Someone please write fluff fanfic, i can't find fluff everything is smut. I'm not gwenchana.

if i look back, i am lost

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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@jakey1115
Someone please write fluff fanfic, i can't find fluff everything is smut. I'm not gwenchana.

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A CROWN OF SILENCE â LEE HEESEUNG
Synopsis: Forced into an arranged marriage with the cold and distant Crown Prince, you struggle to survive palace life while trapped in a loveless union built on duty instead of choice. But beneath Heeseungâs icy exterior lies something far more complicated than you expectedâand getting too close to him may destroy you.
series warnings: Arranged marriage, emotional angst, emotional neglect, loneliness/isolation, toxic family dynamics, cold/avoidant love interest, unhealthy communication, royal court politics, power imbalance, abandonment issues, jealousy, emotional repression, anxiety, verbal arguments, themes of duty over love, grief, manipulation, social pressure, and slow-burn romance. eventually smut and fluff.
AN: woah⊠its been so long hello all⊠ive been writing this one for quite some time it might be a long one so stay tuned! this is also my first time writing such a long fic so i really hope you guys enjoy it and feel free to dm/cmt with any tips or suggestions for this series! tysm for reading!
enhypen masterlist
Teaser
The Arrangement
Cold Palace Walls
Cracks in the Ice
Rumors & Jealousy
The Argument
Almost
Betrayal
The Distance Between Them
Confessions
The Crown & The Choice
why is it so damn hard to find fluff, cutesy fics nowadays.... everything's smut and explicit im gonna fucking combust
How it feels when your looking for fluff or angst but all you can find is smut
For those who write fluff, your work is valid. This is not to put down smut, but I genuinely get so tired when smut is all I see on my dash and crave more fluff interactions between characters. I know smut is far more popular but please donât let the lack of interaction, or lesser interactions with fluff discourage you from writing whatever you want.
Smut is fun, but so is fluff. There are readers who will appreciate the small moments you craft up. Please continue to create for your own joy đ„č

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BAD REPUTATION PART 2 âȘâȘ â€ïžâŹ sjy
After your best friend is left heartbroken by the infamous campus legend Jake Sim, you make it your mission to teach him a lesson â the one he wonât forget until heâs practically begging for forgiveness. What starts as a simple plan quickly spirals into chaos, pulling you into a web of complications you never saw coming. Lines begin to blur, intentions get messy, and you realize things arenât as black and white as they seemed. After all, a bad reputation is a heavy burden to carry on both ends, isnât it? â CONTINUING FROM THE LAST PART âŠ
content tags: tooth rooting miscommunication, jake pmo, enemies to enemies to lover, y/n cries a lot, angst, mid ass slow burn, college au, emotional turmoil, long ass fic, crack, blonde jake, lots of kisses, campus romance (?), fake relationship. NOT PROOFREAD !!
Divider credit: @uzmacchiato
# 6 amor fati
"oh my...is that a freshman?"
"So cute⊠canât wait to eat him up."
"hey! stop! canât you see the poor boy is scared? awwww, is he going to cry?"
Jake hesitantly fixed his hair again, trying not to give attention to the senior girls laughing across from him, or rather laughing at him. His eyes wandered searching for an escape, but wherever he looked, there were only unfamiliar faces and chaos. That one classmate who brought him here was dragged away by a group of seniors as soon as they stepped here and since then he has tried his best to avoid the unnecessary stares and comments. He pulled his hoodie cap further down, trying to shield his face as an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach.
Fresh air. He needed fresh air right now.
The pool behind the big ass house felt far more welcoming compared to the suffocating atmosphere inside. There was no one outside, thanks to the mid december chill. He adjusted his jeans and plopped down on the ground, not caring about the dirt. A bunch of texts popped up as soon as he unlocked his phone.
Curious messages from his parents, asking for pictures from the welcoming party and a selca to see what he was wearing. Then he saw messages from Riki, complaining about how much he hated Jake for moving so far away for college, followed by a very expected âBring me Hot Wheels.â There were also a bunch of pictures of him making silly poses with Layla.
Jakeâs eyes burned. He missed home so much. This place, the weatherâthe people made him feel out of place.
Suddenly he flinched at the sound of footsteps behind him. When he peeked over his shoulder, he discovered someone crouched down, searching the ground for something. Curious, he got up and walked closer.
âExcuse me?â he asked cautiously and person looked up at him.
âIâm sorry!âI dropped my tissue here, and I canât really find it.â
Your panicked voice only confused Jake further. Why would someone be searching for a tissue outside at this hour, away from the party?
âtissue? but whyâŠ?â he asked, eyes scanning over you, trying to spot a stain, maybe spilled juice or something. But you looked completely spotless.
Your panic only intensified as you mumbled, âNo, no, you donât get itâI need the tissue now.â
He scratched his head. âWe can go inside, and I can help you find a new oneââ
You suddenly clutched both his arms tightly âNo, no, youâre not getting it! I need itânaâaaâACHHOO!â
Clear snot landed on the brand new hoodie his parents had gifted him last Christmas.
Eyes widening in bewilderment âOh no, no, no⊠Iâm so sorry!â you yelped, quickly backing away only for another sneeze to fight its way out.
âGive me your hoodie, Iâll wash itâACHHOOââ
Before similar disaster could happen again, Jake immediately pressed his handkerchief against your nose, blocking the impact.
âACHHOO!â The room filled with whispers of annoyance as you hurriedly adjusted your mask, trying your best to hide your face. Unfortunately these were your classmates and there was no way they couldn't recognise the culprit. âNow miss y/n can you please excuse the class and me from spreading spores at 11 a.m.? I really need to finish this lecture.â Professor Min sounded as insensitive as ever. You tried to choke out a faint apology before lowering your head. What a pathetic state of life.
After enduring a few more insults and causing unintentional disturbances, the class finally ended, releasing a sense of relief wash over you. You walked out, clutching a familiar spongebob themed umbrella in your hand. You needed to return this to Jake, and most importantly, explain everything to him.
So what the deal was off? As promised there were no texts, no calls, nothing from Jake since last night. You should have been out shopping for new clothes, getting a hair spa, maybe even planning a vacation with your girlfriends. Instead, you were stuck in one place, unable to move on from this whole lotta mess situation without talking to him.
So what if he treated you like shit? You had it coming after everything you pulled on him. Bad reputation, my ass. Nothing is real. But your feelings for Jake? Those were very very very much real. And if you had to face them the hard way, then so be it. Taking a deep breath, you entered the campus library, the only place you were sure you would find him. Your confidence wavered the moment when despite of looking around you couldnât find that starking bolnde bed hair. Jake wasn't there.
But when one door closes, another opens right?You turned and started walking toward the basketball court.
Just like you imagined he wasnât there either. But you didnât let that thought discourage you when you noticed his laptop open and his belongings scattered nearby. That meant he was somwhere around here. You carefully stepped over his things and sat down right in front of the laptop screen. He was working on some marine engineering project. Your eyes drifted over the books, then to his handwritten notes. Woah thatâs some ugly ahh handwritingâ
âI didnât think you were this shameless to show up even after all this.â
You jolted on your feet, the umbrella slipping from your grip in the process âEvelynâŠâ Had they made up? Did he tell her about the whole fake relationship? Were they together nowâlike, actually together? The radar system in your brain was severly damaged.
Evelyn looked you up and down like she was window shopping then scoffed âtouching someone elseâs stuff like that, what the fuck is your problem?â You stammered, tongue struggling to form a proper sentence. âIâI just want to talk to Jakeââ
âWell he doesnât want anything to do with you. I hope I made that pretty clear.â Evelyn raised a finger and shoved your shoulder lightly. âNow get the fuck out unless you want him to hate you even more.â
No. Never.
You didnât even realize you were shaking as you turned and rushed out of the court.
There was a lot going on inside Jakeâs mind. Why was he so salty about you hugging Heeseung? Just why? He had never thought about you like that. But the flowers? Oh shut it was just because he felt guilty. And when he treated your wound? Anyone who cares about someone would do that, right?
OhâŠright.
He did care about you. Well again in his defence that just happens automatically when youâre around a particular person for a long time. Yes that was it. This was just another case of attachment to someone who had caused him trouble after trouble over the past months. He never should have paid so much attention to you in the first place.
Jake stared down at his hands as the water kept running over them, the skin on his fingertips turning slightly wrinkly under the pressure.
âDude you need help with that.â
He came back to reality at Soobinâs voice who was staring down at the open zipper of his pants.
âYeah, suck itâ Jake growled, quickly zipping them up.
The moment he entered the court he noticed his worn out old spongebob umbrella lying beside his laptop. His heart nearly leaped out of his rib cage and he bolted toward the exit, whipping his head left and right, just in case he can catch the familiar sight of your single braid, or even the cherry colored top you always wore.
âIâm so pathetic⊠fuck,â you sniffled, rubbing the back of your palm over your eyes again and again, trying to wipe away the tears before they could stain your cheeks. The tofu sandwich you were forcing down your throat, half out of hunger and half out of self pity tasted as shit as your life lately.
âUhh⊠Y/n?â
You took a shaky breath and looked up, only to find Sunghoon crouched in front of you, concern written all over his face. He scratched his head unsure of what to say before slowly sitting down beside you. You scooted a little to make space for him. After a long minute of silence he finally spoke âare you....and Jake⊠fighting?â
You shook your head slowly âwe uhhhâŠheâs mad at me.â
âoh...like mad mad?â
âYeah.â
Silence fell again as Sunghoon absentmindedly fiddled with your Kuromi keychain. âYou knowâŠJake isnât really what everyone makes him out to beâŠâ
You stopped chewing and slowly turned to look at him. He stared ahead eyes distant and searching for the right words âsure he can be an asshole sometimes, making promises and not keeping them. But I donât really blame him. He loves his space.â Sunghoon sighed, letting go of your keychain before turning to face you âBut thatâs the problem. Everyone else loves Jakeâs space tooâ
âI met him here right in this place when he used to eat lunch all alone. Donât worry, he looked less pathetic than you,â
âBack then Jake missed home so much that he would force himself into groups that didnât even want him there. Yeah Jake being a pushover doesnât really sound real does it?â
You stayed quiet while listening.
âBut I guess everything changed when some jerks got jealous because their unloyal girlfriends started finding him cute. And thatâs how the whole âJake is a womanizerâ thing started.â
You pulled your knees closer to your chest, trying to piece everything together.
âAnd Jake never once minded that title. Sure it did some bad thing his image but it also made him popular. People from different departments started approaching him wanting to be friends, and he never said no.â
You nodded slowly unsure of what to say. Your entire life's carefully built rule â stay out of trouble and never get involved with a guy like that â crumbled instantly as you realized you had never really known Jake at all.
So what if you did not know Sim Jake at all? You werenât going to give up. You were going to relearn him and tell him exactly what you needed to in his language.
âAnd as I was saying, Jaââ
âSunghoon,â you cut him off, determination settling in your voice. âI need your help.â Sunghoon stared at you for a moment before breaking into a wide grin âatta girl.â
# 7 gbogh
âThey locked you inside the art department, Sadie was the reason for your injured finger, and now youâre telling me Evelyn kicked you out when you went to talk to Jake?!â
Chaerin tried her best to stay composed while listing the damage done to you though it was very clear she was mentally calculating the damage she was about to do to certain girls from the engineering department. You shook your head âChaerin no⊠listen it was my fault tooââ
Chisa and Jurin immediately grabbed her hands as she hissed, âEither Evelyn is getting killed or Iâm staying celibate my whole life.â
âOh we all know the first one sounds more possibleâAHH, FUCK!â Chisa screamed when Chaerin yanked her freshly silk pressed hair.
You clutched both sides of your head still unsure how Sunghoon was supposed to help you. Speaking of which you hesitantly glanced toward their table, the one you had been avoiding looking at because seeing Jake would completely shatter your composure. Still...one look wouldnât hurt right?
When you took a careful glance you discovered the chair empty where he usually sat. Huh? Was he skipping lunch? Afterwards your eyes met Sunghoonâs. He immediately started making weird gibberish hand signs, signaling you to check your phone. You unlocked the device that had been on silent since morning and saw a bunch of texts from him.
Today after classes youâre going grocery shopping.
??? I donât need groceries though.
Just do what Iâm telling you!! Go to the Family Mart nearest to our college.
Youâre weird.
Evelyn is having Jake for lunch btw.
FUCK YOU.
You shot him one last glare before slamming your phone down. Across the room, Sunghoon giggled, catching Jungwonâs attention â?â Sunghoon just shook his head muttering a quiet, âYouâll see.â
âFamily Mart⊠near college⊠uhhhhâŠ.oh!â
You finally spotted the store Sunghoon was talking about. It wasnât that hard to find as the location was within walking distance from the dorms. The bell chimed as you stepped inside. Since it was a weekday the mart was mildly crowded. Kids ran around with lollipops in their hands, their moms complained about the quality of potatoes, and a group of elderly women bombarded the young cashier with overly personal questions like when they were planning to get married.
Ignoring all of it you made your way to the snack aisle.
Why the hell did Sunghoon send you here? Did you make a mistake asking him for help? I mean he was Jakeâs friend at the end of the dayâŠtrying to calm your overactive mind, you reached for a familiar packet of potato chips.
At the exact same time one of the kids who had been running around earlier grabbed it too. The two of you stared at each other with visible irritation. You forced a sweet smile âuhhh this is very unhealthy. I donât think you should be eating this young maââ
âShut up, hag.â
WHAT? Aw hell no.
You tightened your grip on the packet, the plastic crinkling under your fingers as you tried your best not to lose it. âExcuse me?? Thatâs so rude.â
âAnd youâre too old to fight over chips with a kid.â
Okay, screw this kid and his moâwait, no. Kids like this get their audacity from their dads. Yes, thatâs it. Hope the dad steps on a lego block.
With one final tug you snatched the packet away easily from his comparatively loose grip. He stared at you in disbelief mixed with frustration.
âAww, are you going to cry? Awwâwell thatâs what happens when you challenge grown ups you little shiââ
âHere, take this.â
You nearly jumped out of your skin almost knocking the entire aisle over as the exact reason Park Sunghoon had sent you to this mart appeared out of nowhere like some biblically accurate angel. The kidâs face lit up instantly as he took another packet of the same chips from Jakeâs hand. He stuck his tongue out at you before running off. And just like that fate had you standing there, face to face with Jake.
Jake completely ignored your shocked expression as he began picking out more snacks, leaving you battling your inner demons.
âJake, hi!â you exclaimed, crouching down and grabbing the exact same snack he was picking. His ignorance continued as he stood up, dumped everything into his cart, then walked right past you. You trailed behind him like a lost duck struggling to hold the snack packets in your hands since you didnât even bother to get a cart. âAre you okay? I didnât see you at lunch today! Did you skip it?â you rambled as he placed his groceries at the counter.
Still no answer.
Jake didnât even spare you a glance. God, am I that ugly?
âUhh⊠what are you having for dinner by the way????â
By now the cashier had started giving you weird looks, which you ignored completely cuz this was way more important. Jake picked up his packed groceries and started walking towards the exit. You quickly dumped the chips on the counter and followed him, ignoring the cashier yelling behind you.
Soon enough you found him sitting on a bench near the mart, his groceries resting beside him. You sat down on the other end silently praying he wouldnât get up and leave. And he didnât. Instead, he grabbed a packet of chips and tore it open, crinkling plastic being the only sound cutting through the awkward silence. You fiddled with the hem of your top, unsure how to end this painfully one sided conversation.
âJakeâŠIâm sorry.â
The words finally left your mouth after a long moment. No response as usual came from the other side. But you didnât stop.
âI wasnât really thinking before I spoke that day. I was just frustrated⊠andâand youâre right, it is my fault. Since day one, itâs always been my faultâŠâ
You did prepare a whole apology in your head, but right now with him sitting beside you, only his grocery bag giving you the mercy of not letting him see your ashamed, embarrassed face â it all felt too personal.
âI guess I felt a little entitled when you asked me to be your fake girlfriend because youâre right. No oneâs ever really chosen me for anything. My first boyfriend well he kind of dated me because of peer pressure. Of course never said it out loud but sometimes...you just knowâ
Your voice faltered a bit âBut with you⊠even though it was fake and even though there was nothing between us...I felt chosen. I know that sounds pathetic, and IâI know I shouldnât even be approaching you after what I didââ You felt trickle of warm tears on your cheeks again âbut Iâm sorry. Iâm sorry, Jake, Iââ
Something dropped onto your lap.
You blinked, picking it up. Your blurry gaze slowly became clear. A small bracelet. The ones that came free with a certain brand of potato chips for kids. You had them plenty in your childhood. You turned to Jake and found him casually finishing off the crumbs from the same packet, completely unfazed.
Then he stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans then glanced at you over his shoulder.
âApology not accepted. Do something better.â
Jake waited no second before casually walking out of the area, an all too familiar smile lingering on his face, completely unnoticed by you.
For a moment you just sat there pissed, annoyed and frustrated as hell and definitely ready to strangle him if you ran fast enough, yet a small laugh escaped your lips âahhh⊠heâs such an asshole,â you murmured softly, slipping the bracelet around your wrist.
The idea of chasing a guy was far from the rules of ideal relationship advice 101 you and Chaerin wrote in the back of your history notebook at the age of eleven. Yes it was practically blasphemous, but at this stage of having a hopeless crush on ahem Jake Sim felt far more damaging to your health and mental peace.
Sunghoon groaned as you proudly held up a cute oat milk packet, a small ribbon tied around it along with a chibi version of a grumpy Jake that you had drawn yourself. âCute, right?â
Sunghoon facepalmed. âJake is allergic to oat milk.â
Your smile dropped instantly âwhat? I thought every athlete drinks that???â
Erm apparently everyone did, except Jake. You pouted at your hard work before sadly placing it on top of a vending machine. May some poor soul who craves oatmilk finds it.
âCircles by Post MaloneâŠâ you scanned through the large collection of Post Malone albums at a CD store that you found in google maps after hours of searching. You noticed jake often quietly mumbling lyrics under his breath clearly he was a front row level fan.
âYouâre coming home with me,â you smiled, finally spotting the album you wanted.
âI canât believe Iâm doing this, GodâŠâ Chaerin muttered as she handed you a heart shaped paper cutouts. You carefully pasted them one by one onto the khaki wrapping paper you were using for the album trying to make it look more presentable. âChae, my baby, the love of my life, I hope you get dicked down by Jay again.â Chaerin shot you a deadpan look which immediately shut you up and forced you to focus on your work again.
âWhy are you so lateâand what the fuck is that??! Jake isnât into big-ass books by the way!â Sunghoon whisper yelled the moment you rushed inside the library, already half an hour late from the original meeting time. You panted scooting closer to him âthatâs not a bookâ sunghoon rolled his eyes and pointed toward a section âI just saw him go in there.â You took a deep breath and started walking slowly toward your destiny. But your steps halted the moment you heard a familiar laugh.
No way.
You carefully peeked as your heart dropped. Jake and Evelyn were sitting on the library floor. She was pointing at something in his hands as he tried to shield it. They were sitting way too close for your liking and you couldnât even see Jakeâs face clearly, but the way Evelyn leaned into him, her hands wrapped around his arm....
Your grip on the album tightened, nails pressing through the paper wrapping.
Jake mustâve heard the crinkling sound. But when he looked up, you were already gone.
Sunghoon flinched the moment you threw the album at him. It made a loud noise, sliding towards him in a careless manner âyou forgot to mention heâs having a good time with her.â
âHer? Whoâ?! Eve⊠Evelyn???â he mouthed, as you felt your throat tighten. Sunghoon picked up the album, name slightly visible beneath the torn wrapping. He sighed âY/n⊠Jake already has this album. Itâs literally displayed on his study tableâŠâ
Oh. Another disappointment. You scoffed at your useless tries. You really couldnât do anything right, could you?
âright...well i have a class now. I should go,â you muttered, already turning your back to him.âThe fuck am I supposed to do with this?â Sunghoon called out. You raised your hand without turning back.
âJust throw it out.â
Plan failed.
Chaerin let out a long disappointed sigh as she stared at your message. Poor girl she is never catching a break. She was just about to turn off her phone when another notification popped up from way too familiar name. Her throat went dry as âJay đ©·â appeared at the top of her chat list after months. With shaky fingers she opened it.
Iâm sorry for reaching out like this
but I really need your help right now.
Can you come over?
She chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at the time. 5 p.m. Itâs not like this was her first time visiting his room but the last time she went there they ended upâFUCK NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Chaerin shook her head, trying to push away the memories of what had happened after she ended up there. âItâs okay⊠sometimes history doesnât repeat itselfâŠâ she whispered to herself typing a small âokâ before hitting send.
Jay paced frantically around his room. Fuck. He actually did it. After five nights of contemplating, overthinking and torturing himself with worst possible outcomes he had finally texted Chaerin. âOkay, calm down⊠sheâs just coming to help. Nothing else should happen.â The words of consolation felt too weak already. At some point the doorbell rang, making him jump. He unconsciously fixed his hair before walking to the door.
âHiâŠâ
Chaerin stood there her hair slightly messy but still neatly styled, usual brown leopard print glasses resting on her nose. Jay took a breath and stepped aside silently inviting her in. Chaerinâs eyes immediately landed on the mess on his bed,
hair color packets, brushes, and various hair care products scattered everywhere.
Resting his hands on his hips Jay rehearsed what he had practiced minutes before her arrival âIâm meeting my family this weekend⊠and theyâll kill me if I donât dye my hair back to a normal colour.â He gestured toward his platinum undercut. She paused for a second. GodâŠ.she loved that haircut on himâ
âListen, you donât have to do this if you feel uncomfortable. Actually, IâI texted you impulsively. I just remembered you once saying you did a hairstyling project in eighth grade, and how your dad wanted you to take over the salon, and how your brother sold your favorite shampoo to buy a limited edition of death note setâŠâ
Jay exhaled deeply after rambling, leaving Chaerin completely stunned. When had she told him all that? Sure they were close once, but she didnât remember ever sharing that much.âNo, Iâm completely okay!â she replied quickly offering him a small smile. âso what color are we doing?â
The bathroom soon filled with giggles and soft splashes of water as Chaerin deliberately poked behind Jayâs ear with the brush.âowâthat tickles!â he laughed, trying to cover his ears while she threw her head back, laughing freely. They waited for the color to set before washing it out. As much as Chaerin had expected this meeting to be awkward, surprisingly it wasnât. They fell into their places and It just felt like two old friends catching up after a long time.
While washing her gaze lingered on Jayâs face, his crescent shaped eyes when he smiled, the faint dimples forming at the corners of his lips. Ex Friends. Yeah maybe Thatâs what they were and she had promised herself not to cross that line again.
Chaerin focused on the hand shower letting the warm water rinse away the new brown dye. Her fingers gently worked through his hair, messaging his scalp. Jay relaxed against the bathtub.
âhey JayâŠâ
âhmm?â
âWhen did I tell you about my eighth grade hairstyling gig?â
He let out a soft laugh, turning his head slightly. âFor someone majoring in engineering with math as your main subject, you sure have a bad memoryâŠâ then he turned toward her fully, splashing a bit of water in her direction. She yelped, backing away.
âAt that party sillyâ he continued, smiling unconsciously as he walked down the memory lane âwhen we both got drunk, you told me about your dream of becoming hairstylist for jungkook and kept playing with my hair saying it looked like some ugly kombucha orange color. I was so confusedâlike, what the fuck does that even mean?â
Chaerin laughed along with him as the memory slowly resurfaced. She crouched down closer to his level. Jay looked almost boyish now excited as he elaborated âand then you said you wanted to fix my hair. You basically forced me to show you my entire hair color collectionâand letâs not forget, you called every single one of them ugly.â
She covered her face, laughing.
âAnd then,â he continued, softer now, âyou grabbed my hair and said platinum would look so much better and thenâŠâ
He paused suddenly.
âThen?â chaerin prompted, smiling faintly.
But Jay couldnât continue. His words got stuck somewhere between his throat and his heartbeat which was suddenly too loud in his ears. The bathroom felt too close only two breathes synching together. Chaerin notices the flush slowly growing from his neck to his cheeks and eventually his ears. She frowned slightly âand then? What happened after that Jay?â
Jay looked into her eyes, pretty lashes behind the thick glasses. Suddenly he reached forward, grabbed her arms and pulled her into the tub. She barely had time to gasp.
âThen you grabbed my hair like thisâŠâ he murmured, his fingers gently tugging at her already half undone ponytail. Chaerin's breath hitched.
âAnd then⊠you painted my hair platinum silverâ His voice dropped to a whisper, before she could process anything he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
You stared hard at the application form in front of you.
âA field trip? And that too architecture and engineering departments collaborating?????? This feels like a planned murder,â Chisa huffed as she finished filling in her details. âOh, come on! This is such a sweet moment for Y/n to finally show pda with her boyfriend,â Jurin teased, winking at your direction. You let out a whin âohhhh shut ittttt, he's not even my boyfriendâŠâ
âIâm manifesting for you baby.â jurin blew a kiss.
âI think Iâm gonna dump Evelynâs body here,â Chaerin said casually, pointing at the river on the campsite map attached to the form making both Chisa and Jurin burst out laughing. Your eyes drifted across the room landing on Jake who was busy discussing something with Jay, most probably about the upcoming match with Sunshine City College.
âIâm more worried about insects and mosquitoes, thoughâŠâ Chisa made a disgusted face then pointed at Chaerinâs neck âspeaking of whichâthe fuck kind of evolutionary insect bruised you up this bad?â
âgirl thatâs not an insect, thatâs Jay.â
The three of you froze mid action, slowly turning to stare at Chaerin. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she cleared her throat and took a bite of her hotdog.
âI told yâall,â Chisa threw her hands up dramatically âthis bitch cannot survive celibacy!â
âJakeâs birthday is two weeks away.â
You gaped at Sunghoon then repeated his words in your head. Jakeâs birthday. JAKEâS BIRTHDAY. Your eyes widened with a sudden spark of hope as you sat up straight. Right now you and Sunghoon were sitting in a random cafĂ©, because of course discussing your goal in Jake's proximity would completely ruin the plan.
âAll of usâI mean, you know the boys, weâre planning to surprise him. And we need someone who can make proper home cooked meals. Usually Jay does the cooking but he messes up at least one dish,â Sunghoon said, finishing his coffee before crossing his arms. âBut the problem is, youâll have to stay undercover the whole dayâor even the whole week. We cannot let him know youâre involved. Thatâs what will make it the biggest surprise.â
You nodded eagerly quickly pulling out your phone to note down important points about the plan.
The two of you spent rest of the afternoon discussing details, completely unaware of a certain figure capturing pictures from afar.
Operation Jakeâs Birthday was officially in motion. With the help of Jungwon and Sunoo you gathered information about his favorite foods. Yes, Professor Min still embarrassed you in front of the entire class for falling asleep mid lecture, but what else were you supposed to do? Staying up all night to design his birthday banner and plan decorations took time.
You did your best to not make Jake uncomfortable with your hopeless stares as much as you could. I mean I don't think he's that eager to see me anyways. You concluded your own theory often catching him ignoring you even if both of you were standing at an approachable distance from each other. That shit hurt so bad. But hey pain is a part of growth after all. You cannot just expect Jake to magically fall for you after the level of weird stuffs you pulled at him.
âI feel like a criminal for ditching you,â Chaerin muttered as she finished touching up her makeup. You smiled softly and shook your head âItâs okay, Chae. Youâve done enoughâŠ.go enjoy your date tonight.â She squeezed your hand tightly before pulling you into a light hug.
âText me if something goes wrong, yeah?â
âYeah.â
âBalloons⊠wrappers⊠paper cups and plates⊠what elseâŠâ you muttered while scanning the small shop. You were out buying decorations since Jakeâs birthday was just a few days away now. You hadnât seen him since last wednesday after jungwon told you he basically locked himself up in his room to finish the final parts of his assignment â and while it helped you stay focused, you missed him more than you wanted to ever admit.
Everything on your list was checked. You waited while the cashier prepared your bill, eyes wandering around the shopâŠthen you looked outside, through the see of people at the crossing, high school students returning home together in a flock, the troubled traffic guard, street food shops just setting up their cart taking in glow of last sunrays of the day, and finally stopped at the store across the road.
It looked like some usual high end clothing store. But the red shirt displayed under warm yellow lighting caught your attention instantly. After paying you crossed the street, failing to contain your curiosity.
It looked even better up close. The small logo on the left side practically screamed expensive. You glanced at the price tag naturally and shrieked. 169 bomboclat dollars.
Soon you sank in disappointment. If only it were a little cheaperâŠmaybeâŠYour heart ached at the thought of Jake wearing it. Why is capitalism even a thing?
âFound you again.â
You jumped as a hand landed on your shoulder. Heeseung! He scanned you up and down, lips curling into a small smile when he noticed the decorations peeking out of your bag. âShopping for a friend?â
You shook your head âfor Jake.â His smile faltered for a split second before he followed your gaze toward the shirt âout of your budget?â
âI mean wayyyy out of my budget.â
Before you could react he grabbed your hand and started dragging you inside ignoring your little protests âHeeseung what the fuck?! Are you crazyâwait!â
Within minutes both of you were standing at the counter. Shirt neatly packed in a gift box, with a note that read: From Y/n. You tried your best to snatch heeseung's card away, but he shot you a look that made you step back immediately, a pout forming on your lips. Heeseung stared at you for a moment then sighed, patting your head. âFine. Pay whatever you canâIâll cover the rest.â
The two of you walked out laughing about how annoyed the store staffs looked while you were arguing over the bill.
âDo you think Jake will be mad if he finds out?â Heeseung asked pointing at the note that now read From 'Y/N and Heeseung'. You clicked your tongue âlet him stay mad. I know heâll wear it. You have no idea what a softie he actually is....bro literally buys chips that has little gifts insideâ you laughed raising your wrist to show him the familiar beaded bracelet.
Heeseung smiled warmly his gaze lingering from your wrist to your face. âYeahâŠitâs pretty.â
You went quiet for a moment before speaking again. âThank you HeeseungâŠ.I mean I just donât know how you always show up when I need help the most!â Itâs almost like youâre my guardian angel....what youâre laughing?! Iâm not joking!â He covered his mouth trying not to attract too much attention, then flicked your forehead âsee when your head is empty you say nonsense like this.â
âasshole get away from me!â
# 8 mixed up
âThe field trip is a crucial part of your syllabus as well as this semester âŠâ the dean's voice echoed through the big hall filled with restless engineering and architecture students.
Jake yawned, words blurring into noise. He hadnât been getting proper sleep lately. Assignment had drained him and even after submitting everything he felt uneasy for some reason. Probably the all nighters finally catching up to him. And to make it worse the guys kept gathering in the living room at midnight, whispering about somethingâand kicking him out whenever he tried to join.
It felt like everyone has taken a challenge of ragebaiting him and he indeed was raging inside.
âJake Sim, 4th semester, ID number 100902, engineering department.â
His fatigue disappeared soon, attention snapping back into attention as the dean announced his government name from the dais with a very serious look. What's happening? Whispers filled the hall as others started looking at jake while whispering.
âplease meet me in my office after your classes.â
âSunoo no wait!â you yelled as he nearly poured the wrong batter into the bowl. He gave you a sheepish smile and corrected himself immediately. Behind you a whirlwind of chaos unfolded as Sunghoon and Jay kept bickering about the banner placement. Not far away from them Chaerin helped Jungwon to blow up the balloons and lastly Chisa and Jurin tried their best to help you in the kitchen.
The cake was ready and you were icing it carefully. Your mind raced with unfamiliar emotions. God, i hope he likes it.
You kept double checking everything, asking Sunghoon about other potential allergies, preferences, anything. It was extremely exhausting but warm. Everyone had skipped their classes to help you. You wanted to invite Heeseung too but he had a boxing match today. Soon your eyes flicked to the clock. 5:30 p.m. only half an hour more till Jake comes back. You couldnât wait to see his reaction.
âIâm sorryâŠwhat?â Jakeâs voice came out hollow as his trembling fingers scrolled through a particular segment of the project he submitted three days ago. It stared right back at him through the deanâs laptop screen. Something was horribly wrong.
âJake,â the dean sighed, folding his arms âyou are one of our very talented students and no doubt your academic performance has been excellent since the first semester. But this is unacceptable.â
Jake couldnât speak. The information on the screen wasnât what he remembered writing.
âEven a high school student could tell the amount of ai usage here,â the dean continued. âYouâre aware of Decelis rules right? Unsupervised ai usage for assignments and exams is strictly prohibited. I donât know why youâd risk something like this, especially for such an important project.â
It felt like needles were piercing his skin. This couldnât be real. He hadnât used ai at all, not even once. Everything had been his own research from authentic books and verfied sites which he checked numerous times before putting the statistics in.
âWe are unfortunately bounded by rules and have to deduct a portion of your credits, I hope you think twice before committing such atrocities like this again. Youâre dismissed.â
His head felt too light when he came out of the office. The hallways was suffocating, as expected everyone was staring at his pale face and shaky hands. No stop. Dont look at me. Please go away. He clenched his teeth but before he could proceed any further, a hand grabbed his, pulling him in a nearby empty classroom.
âJake, I know this isnât the right time butâŠI know who messed with your project.â Evelyn's voice felt like some kind of distant noise.
A very weird feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he gathered energy to respond back âwhat?â
âItâs Y/n.â Evelyn stated firmly. The confidence in her voice knocked the remaining air out of his lungs.
âI saw her messing with your stuffs weeks ago when you were doing your assignment in the basketball court.â
His body stiffened realising exact which day Evelyn was talking about. The spongebob umbrella laying beside his laptop. He remembered everything all too well .âI donât know if youâll believe me,â Evelyn continued, her voice dripping with venom, âbut sheâs evil jake...she's not done ruining your life. I think we both know sheâs been behind everything weird that has happened to you this semester.â
The room felt too cold to his liking as Jake tried his best to stand still. The sheer thought of you messing up with his assignments just wasn't making any sense. But whatever information Evelyn provided, pointed at no one but you being the reason for this damage.
âI donât know whatâs going on between you two, but look!â she shoved her phone in front of him âshe is now going for two men at once after she is done with you! And not surprised one of them is your friend!â Blurry but clear enough to see there were pictures taken from a distance of you and Sunghoon laughing together. Jake hurriedly snatched the phone from her hands and swiped â the next one was outside a newly opened Ralph and lauren store. You and Heeseung holding hands as he was pulling you inside the store.
âSee?â Evelyn muttered. âGoing after two guys at once of course with a privileged background. Not surprising at all! typical small town behavior.â Jake couldn't hear the rest. None of Evelynâs words reached him and his cloudy state of mind. His fingers tightened around the phone.
âDid he forget his wayâŠor whatâŠâ Chisa yawned followed by Jurin. Both of them were slumped on the couch. Sunoo had fallen asleep, head resting on Sunghoonâs shoulder as the older guy called Jake for the fifth time â each one going straight to voicemail. Jay and Chaerin exchanged worried looks, and you felt your stomach twisting uncomfortably. It was almost 9 p.m but Jake still wasnât here. Did he somehow find out you were hereâŠ? Is that why he wasnât coming?
The sound of the apartment door unlocking caught everyoneâs attention. Jurin shoved Chisa awake before she could fully pass out and Sunghoon quickly helped you light the candles while a half asleep Sunoo carefully flipped off the switches.
The room was instantly filled with a warm yellow glow from fairy lights and flickering candles. You held the cake, waiting and after what it felt like waiting for an eternity, Jake finally stepped in.
Right then Jay and Jungwon popped the party crackers, colorful confetti bursting into the air with a loud snap.
âHappy birthday Jakeeeee!â everyone shouted in unison, waiting for his reaction.
But nothing came.
âTurn the lights on.â
You turned to Sunghoon, who looked just as confused beside you. Why did Jake sound like that? He hesitated and stepped forward âbro look uppp! See whoâs hereââ
âDonât make me repeat myself, Hoon.â
Sensing things were escalating Jungwon immediately turned the lights on. Your throat went dry when you saw Jakeâs face. He looked empty and dreaded. Did something happen?
âWhere were you on 6th September?â
You flinched. Nearly two months into being a professional troublemaker in jake's life but his voice had never sounded so distant. So cold.
âJake, whatâs going onââ Jay stepped forward but Jake cut him off.
âY/n Iâm asking you. Where the hell were you on 6th September?!â
You flinched at his sudden yell. After quickly doing a mental math, you gathered the courage to answer âIâI attended Professor Minâs class, and then IâŠâ you trailed off. Right, then you were searching for him to return his umbrella.
âI⊠went to the basketball court to return your umbrella, but you werenât there, so Iââ
Jake let out a sharp, mocking laugh. âSo you edited out a whole paragraph of my assignment and replaced it with some ai bullshit!â
Huh?
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â you heard Chaerinâs footsteps approaching as stepped closer. Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. âLet me be honest with you Y/n....I donât know why you came into my life, but I do know youâve brought nothing but problems and misery.â
What's happening?
Sunghoon quickly took the cake from your hands realising you were shaking and set it aside. âJake, you really need to start giving context before I beat the shit out of you,â he snapped, clearly irritated. The ground beneath your feet felt like it was moving slowly. What was he even talking about? Replacing his assignment with ai?
âOh yeah?â Jake scoffed âNow you want to beat me for her? Why though? Because secretly both of you are fucking?â he spit out and instantly Sunghoonâs fist collided with his face. âSunghoon no!â you screamed grabbing him as Jake lunged forward to hit back only to be held back by Jay. Everything in your head blurred together as you dragged Sunghoon afar. Sunoo and Jungwon tried to calm him down as he breathed heavily.
You ignored Chisa who tried to stop you with a worried expression before walking back toward Jake.
You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself for whatever impact was coming.
âJake letâs talk outside.â
âI donât think youâre in any position to command me y/nâ he stayed stubborn. Fine. You let out the breath you had been holding for so long. âI did not edit your assignment. And before you point fingers at me, remember Evelyn was there the whole time. Even before I entered the court.â
He raised his eyebrows, face morphing into something purely influenced by ignorance âyeah that's your defence mechanism??? Putting the blame on Evelyn isn't going to solve the issue you created from your own fucked up feelings against meââ
Fucked up feelings? Against him? putting blame on Evelyn?
âSO WHAT?!â you screamed finally at your breaking point. âYou want to act all righteous and mighty even though you never once saw me editing your assignment with your own eyes?!â
Jake felt a pang in his chest, as every single person in that room witnessed everything you had been holding back spill out.
âIf you donât want to believe me, then donât! But goddammit Jake youâyou are so cruel....both you and evelyn can go to hell for all I care! And fineâIâll never show my face again! I hope you donât either you ungrateful shit! I hope I fall and die in a ditch before expressing my feelings for you!â With trembling hands you tore the bracelet off your wrist, elastic band snapping in the hurried process and you threw it at him, beads scattered instantly across the floor. You could not afford to waste any seconds after that and stormed out of room number 15 of the boysâ dormitory with Chaerin, Chisa, and Jurin rushing after you.
Jake stood there, a pit of silence and emptiness feeling his senses. His eyes fell on the broken bracelet near his feet then slowly he looked around. The entire apartment was decorated exactly how he had always wanted birthdays to look as a child. As for his parents fancy dinners had always mattered more than something like this.
He then looked at Jungwon and Sunoo who seemed just as shaken. âHappy birthday,â Jungwon muttered quietly before slipping out with a clearly displeased Sunoo. Now it was just him, Jay and Sunghoon who looked like he was gonna jump him anytime if he turns around. Jay waited for him to speak but when he said nothing, he stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder
âStop favoring your heart and start using your brain before it's too lateâ
âI hate him, I hate him, I hate him so much oughhhh I feel like mixing rat poison in his food!â you cried out, voice muffled by the pillow pressed tightly against your face. Chaerin tried calming you down in every possible way, but she knew it was useless. After fifteen minutes of yelling and cursing Jake, you finally lifted the pillow and threw it across the room. âChaeâŠâ
She crawled closer at the sound of your hoarse voice. âMm-hmm?â
You swallowed, lowering your gaze as your fingers absentmindedly scratched at the bedsheets. âW-what is the punishment for using ai in assignmentsâŠ? willâwill they fail him?â
Oh, you poor girl. Chaerin shook her head gently as she tried to tie your messy hair into a bun. âIf it were a regular student, maybe. But since itâs the department topperâŠ..I donât think so.â
You didnât know what kind of comfort that brought to your already bruised heart, but you clutched her sleeve anyway.
ââŠAm I a disappointment to feminism?â
Chaerin cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at her. âNo, youâre not, Y/n. You can dislike and like a person at the same time. And NO one in this world has the right to shame you for thatâ You immediately scooted away from her. âI donât like him.â
âNot even a bit?â
âNo. Not at all.â
She laughed softly and lay down, her head resting on your lap. âThen why did you cook his favorite food? go out of your comfort zone to plan his birthday? and write himââ
âThatâs just because⊠I⊠because I, uhâŠâ
you started, ready to argue, but no matter how hard you searched for an answer, your mind came up blank. Chaerin propped herself up on her elbow, looking at you knowingly. âSee?â
âNot my fault! I want to know too why Iâm doing all this even though I hate him⊠so muchâŠâ The anger in your voice slowly faded by the end of your sentence. Chaerin took your hand then placed it over your heart.
âYouâre looking for answers in the wrong place, baby.â
Wrong place huh?
Your heartbeat against your palm felt fast, tired from running, worn out from being wrongly accused. So much for liking a dumbass. Jake didnât trust you. In fact, he never even tried to open the door of his heart to let you in. You were doing everything alone like a complete clown trying to impress someone who didnât even want to be impressed. There had been so many signs. So many chances to give up. To realize that maybe you just didnât belong in a world where Jake would ever look at you the way you looked at him. You couldnât even remember the last time he had truly looked at you.
All you remembered now was that cold, distant expression, pushing you away every darn time you tried to get closer. It was about damn time mission relearning Jake should be aborted.
# 9 intentions
The apartment felt too empty after Sunghoon and Jay finished cleaning everything up. Jake had locked himself in his room after taking a shower. The only sounds he could hear were the faint clatter of utensils from outside, probably Jay putting food away and the ticking of the analog wall clock on his wall. A few minutes ago he had received a text from his computer science major friend felix
Iâm trying to glaze our sports instructor for the CCTV footage.
But heâs acting like a total bitch.
Donât worry bro. Iâll avenge your credit points.
And he knew felix had enough influence to actually get the footage â legally or not.
See? That part wasnât hard. What was hard was taking back everything he had said just a few hours ago. His grip tightened around the small note he had found inside the gift box alongside the bright red Ralph Lauren shirt now resting on his study table. He had already read it five times. Slowly he lifted it up to eye level again.
His eyes burned as the pressure finally gave way. Fresh, warm tears spilled out almost in no time. God, he didnât deserve it. He didnât deserve your attention, your effort, your time. He didnât deserve Sunghoon, the first person he had truly grown close to after joining this shit ass college. He didnât deserve Jay, who always showed up whenever he was in trouble. He didnât even deserve Riki, who had texted him happy birthday with a video of him and Layla wearing birthday caps and yet Jake still hadnât found the time to reply.
Soft knocks interrupted his sniffles as he slowly sat up.
âOpen up.â Sunghoonâs rough voice came from outside. Without saying anything Jake dragged himself to the door and opened it. Sunghoon stood there, eyes just as red rimmed. He probably cried in his room but he would never admit it to jake by the way.
Without a word, Sunghoon pushed past and walked in, then plopped down on the bed. He patted the empty space beside him. Jake followed and sat quietly.
âIâm not paying for your rhinoplasty by the wayâ Sunghoon muttered after a long silence resulting in Jake letting out a weak snicker âyour weak-ass punch did nothing chill.â Sunghoon kicked him lightly in the shin âdonât rile me up fucker.â
Jake sighed while rubbing the back of his neck. âIâm sorry.â
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow âyouâre apologizing to the wrong person.â
Jake swallowed, staring straight ahead. Yeah. He knew that. But he wasnât sure if the person he should apologize to would even want to see him anymore.
ââŠMhm. Pass the apology to her, then.â
Sunghoon shot up, startling him and grabbed his shoulder âJake, my guyâget your shit straight.â
âI am straight.â
âYour brain starts lagging every time you see Y/n.â
Jake pulled himself out of Sunghoonâs grip and groaned âNo it doesnât! Itâs justâthereâs never been any normal start between us at all!ââ
âAnd??â Sunghoon cut him off sharply âthat girl did so much just to give you a normal start. Do you have any idea?!â
Jake fell silent. The words hit like a punch to the gut ââŠyeah. And I hate myself for it.â
âAs you should, asshole.â Sunghoon glared at him, but his expression softened when he noticed that familiar kicked out look on Jakeâs face, the same one he had seen three years ago when Jake used to sit alone on the bleachers during lunch. âWhat are you thinking Jake?â he asked quietly.
Jake avoided his gaze. âI⊠donât know hoon....I donât know what Iâm thinking....what I'm feelingâŠâ
Sunghoon crouched down in front of him âOh, really? You donât?â then without warning, he reached under Jakeâs bed and pulled out something. A Post Malone album. Similar to the one displayed nicely on his desk, but this one was wrapped in khaki paper, decorated with small paper hearts.
ââŠThen what the fuck is this doing here? Cuz last time I took it here I remember keeping it in the waste storage boxes to throw it out later!â
Jake couldnât answer. Sunghoon stood up again then walked to his study table. He yanked open the drawer and pulled out a small piece of paper â a chibi doodle of a grumpy Jake. The fading sticky glue was still noticeable behind it, clear it had been nicely ripped from something. Or better from a certain oatmilk package. "Oh we sure are gonna ignore this one right?"
Then he strode back, grabbed Jakeâs wrist, and pulled up his sleeve. A beaded bracelet, very much identical to the one you had torn and thrown earlier was there around his wrist. âAnd this too?? Did Y/n know these bracelets came in pairs?â
Sunghoon exhaled sharply before continuing, âWhy did you even get mad at the idea that I might be hooking up with her? Or fineâletâs be respectfulâwhat if I was hitting on Y/n?â
Jake pressed his lips together ignoring the feeling he was trying to suppress gnaw at his heart. âI donât really care.â
Sunghoon let out a dry chuckle âOh really? You donât?â
âNo. I donât.â
Silence settled between them again as Jake slowly pulled his hand back from his friend's grip. Sunghoon stood still for a moment before speaking again, quieter this time.
âI think we both know what that means, Jake.â Jake said nothing. His fingers brushed over the bracelet on his wrist as he realized how brutally Sunghoon had stripped his feelings bare.
You adjusted your airpods unconsciously, realizing the amount students were staring at you, turning their heads, whispering, and giggling to their friends werenât just a coincidence. You looked down at your clothes, checking if you had worn it inside out or if your jeans were unzipped. But everything was perfectly fine. After taking your usual seat in the classroom, you noticed even more eyes on you, making it unbearable. Within a minute, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
You removed one airpod and turned around âonly to find Heeseung looking at you with a worried expression. You forced a small smile amd he shifted beside you subtly shielding you from the stares.
âYou okay?â
âmm hmm⊠donât worry,â you sighed and flipped a random notebook to distract yourself. Heeseung took the bundle pages from your hand while shutting it âyou want me to beat those people up?â
You let out a frustrated huff âI meanâI donât even know why theyâre staring at me like thatâŠâ
Heeseung frowned for a moment âyeah, ignore those dumbassesââ
âHi, Y/n!â
Both of you flinched as a group of girls from your class suddenly appeared in front of you âuh⊠hi?â
âDid you really do it??â one of them asked, making you even more confused.
ââŠDo what?â
They started giggling among themselves. Beside you, Heeseung tensed. He grabbed your hand trying get your attention âY/n letâs skip this classââ
âYou knowâŠhommie hopping between Sunghoon and Jake!â
âAnd here I thought Jake was the biggest slutâ
They burst out laughing.
Your blood ran cold and you turned to Heeseung with a horrified expression. He only shook his head and mouthed 'Letâs get OUT.'
You know what they say about bad reputations. They always catch up. And when they do, they strip your sense of 'self' away, your peace along with whatever little strength you have left.
You stared blankly at the college forum. A picture of you and Sunghoon was posted with a bold caption: âNew slut on campus.â
You didnât know what to think or what to say anymore. Everything inside you was building up, pressure rising with every passing second, threatening to explode into something ugly. âThe fuck are you looking at?â Chisa snapped at a group of juniors staring at your table. You clutched your head which was already starting to hurt despite of skipping all lectures since morning.
âShe needs her campus pr privileges revoked. This is literally quiet literally a violation of privacy,â Chaerin snarled, pointing at the small âby Sadieâ under the post.
âLook who shamelessly showed upâŠâ
Your skin prickled as Sadie and Yunjin approached your table, wearing priceless expressions and victory of their final blow.
âYeah Sadie, learned that shit from you. True inspiration,â Jurin shot back instantly, wiping the smirk off Sadieâs face.
âWatch your tone, or the three of you will wake up to the same kind of judgment tomorrow.â She hissed to which Chaerin stood up abruptly, her chair crashing to the floor due to the impact and nearby students fell silent. âuh huh? Is that it???â she mocked and before Yunjin could come up with another attack in Sadie's defense, Chaerin grabbed the container of spaghetti Chisa had been slurping from just minutes agoâ then threw it straight at Sadie.
The whole cafeteria instantly broke out with gasps and whispers. You tried to pull Chaerin back, terrified as Sadie who was now shaking, gooey red spaghetti sauce dripping down her perfectly styled pink blow dried hair, shot the most sinister look at your table. Yunjin lunged at Chaerin to avenge her, but before her hands could even touch the targeted girl, Chisa grabbed a chunk of yunjin's hair and yanked her back âhoe really thinks her authority works here....itâs a democracy bitch!â
Chaos broke out instantly. Some students screamed, others started chanting 'fight fight!', while the rest pulled out their phones to record. You felt your head spinning when you spotted professors and staff rushing in. Itâs a mess. Itâs a whole fucking messâFrom the corner of your eyes you saw Sadie charging straight at you with her claws out, looking no less terrifying than the red demon from insidious.
Suddenly warmth wrapped around your wrist. âWhat the fuââ
Sadieâs mortified face, Chisa dragging Yunjin, the upside down cafeteria including screams of students mixed with professors yelling âEverything blurred within seconds as the hand dragged you far far away. No direction or whatsoever, you were just running. Your heart hammered less from the run, but from the strands of blonde hair peeking out from under his hoodie.
Soon you found yourself inside a cramped space between lockers. Pants and gasps filled the small area as you leaned against the cold metal for support. Jakeâs hand was still interlaced with yours which you slowly pulled away after realisation. Outside, the deanâs voice echoed faintly âSuspend everyone who was in the cafeteria!â
For seven long minutes neither of you spoke, just trying to catch your breath and avoiding each otherâs gaze. But eventually you had no choice. As you looked up, Jakeâs sunken eyes met yours. He swallowed hard to hydrate his dry throat âyou⊠okay?â
You nodded not even having the energy to speak. Silence fell again and you suddenly became aware of how close you were â his uneven breaths brushed against your ear and the height difference made your face was nearly level with his chest, the thin silver chain he always wore dangling in front of you. âI should go,â you whispered, your voice smaller than ever. You tried to move but his hand grabbed your wrist again.
âY/n Iâthat day, I wasââ
âItâs okay Jake,â you replied shortly, shutting him up.
He stared at you for a moment then shook his head âitâs not okay.â
You clenched your jaws. Of course as always he was right. It was infact not okay at ALL. Nothing like this should have ever escalated but guess what? Your staurn being weak was finally catching up to you.
âJake⊠letâs just forget anything ever happened,â you whispered, ignoring the lump in your throat. He stiffened for a moment then scoffed âyou said you wanted to start fresh with me so how can we just forgetâ?â You looked up at him through your wet lashes, âyeah⊠because YOU said you wished we met differently!â
Jake shook his head âbut this is not how Iââ
âThen what the fuck do you want?!â you yelled, hitting his chest. He flinched even though your noticeably small palm made little to no impact then grabbed your wrist âchillâwhy do you have to be so violent all the time?â
âCHILL?!â you screamed again and he immediately covered your mouth, glancing outside to check if anyone heard. Tears welled up in your eyes as his hand slowly dropped.
âJake howâhow can I be calm after everything?â your voice trembled. âThink practically for once. From the beginning it was just me. It was always me chasing you, bothering you, approaching you with half baked assumptions⊠and yeah, maybe I shouldâve seen this comingâŠâ
You inhaled deeply, feeling your lungs running out of air âbut I triedâŠ.IâI tried to mend our relatioâI mean fix whatever 'ship' was between us...and this is what I get for not giving upâ
You hit his chest again, softer this time âJake Iâm tiredâŠâ You looked up searching his face to see if he had anything to say. But nothing came out. Was his heart made of stone? Did he feel nothing at all?
He slowly stepped back, your wrist slipping from his grasp and your back hit the lockers again.
âIâm sorry⊠I justâI wasnât thinking. I shouldnât have accused you without proofâŠâ he whispered.
Proof.
And he still needed physical evidence to believe you would never do that to him. Ha! What a joke you made out of yourself. It was really just you and your feelings against the whole world, and jake belonged to that world. A hollow laugh escaped your lips as you contemplated to meet his eyes for almost twenty minutes âyou donât trust me, do you JakeâŠ?â
He opened his mouth âno no I doâI justââ
âYou donât trust me. My opinions, my feelings and youâre ashamed of meââ
He grabbed your shoulders and shook you slightly, voice turning hoarse. âWatch what youâre saying...I never said Iâm ashamed of you!â
You harshly removed his hands away âThatâs the problem Jake! You never say anything at all! So of course my thoughts will fill the gap with everything I ever speculated from your silence!â
âIf youâre not ashamed of me, then why are we hiding here like criminals?!â
Jake ran a hand through his hair âYouâre getting it wrongâtheyââ
âThey?!â you cut him off shortly âI donât want to hear about them! Say whatâs in your mind. Say it!â
You finished in one sentence and breathed heavily for fresh set of oxygen. He stared at you for few seconds then gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
âY/n⊠I thinkâŠâ
Your heart thumped loudly and you fiddled nervously with your fingers. Is this it??? Was he finally going toâ
âI think Sunghoon likes you and I donât want to get in between you two⊠so I just wanted to clear things that...I donât hold any grudges against you⊠or him.â
Eh?
Ehh???
EHHHH?????
Your face morphed into something very distant and distraught âSunghoon what now?â
Jake nodded âyeah I know it sounds crazy, butâŠ.I think heâs bothered after witnessing us getting stuck again and again in some crazy positionsââ He gulped, glancing up and down âIâI mean in life.â
You took a deep breath. What on Godâs green earth was Jake even saying? Was he using even a single brain cell he used while studying?
âI think⊠I think we need to stay away from each other, as MUCH as we canâ you whispered knowing you werenât crazy for wanting that. Jake only nodded in response âyeah⊠letâs just try not to run into each other without any reason.â
Right. And that was exactly why Jake had very chalantly dragged you here to this vampire coup kinda space. In his defense he just wanted to save you from the mess that was probably still going on inside the cafeteria and to confess Sunghoonâs feelings.
Confess Sunghoonâs feelingsâŠright....not his. Of course no.
He didnât feel anything. Not at all.
âI still canât believe birds are chirping and the sun is shining after that mess we survived yesterday,â Chaerin groaned, burying her face into your shoulder. You ignored her and focused on your books.
âYou still havenât told me where you disappeared, by the way.â
You scrunched your nose, trying to come up with a convincing lie âtold youâI got scared and ran into the bathroom.â
Chaerin stared at you intently before clicking her tongue âI donât knowâŠ..something about your testimony is not fucking convincing me.â
You shrugged âjust stating facts.â
âYeah, right. Also why are you ignoring Jake again?â
âIâm NOT???â Even if you tried, the desperation to suppress your emotions was obvious in your voice âand even if I am, whatâs the problem? I donât think I can sacrifice my major for something as trivial as Jake.â
âFunny how you say that when I can clearly see the tensionââ
âChaerin, stop. Thereâs genuinely nothing between us. Not anymore.â
Your best friend sighed, finally giving up as she lay back on your bed âweâre going shopping this weekend. You coming?â
You shook your head âassignments.â
A common class was arranged for the departments participating in the field trip, and the moment you realized that meant none other than just a bunch of grown engineering and architecture students crammed into one classroom, including the a very specific person you swore you werenât trying to avoid.
You could practically hear the saxophone blaring in your ears.
Since the cafeteria mess happened for the first time in decelis â the principal and deans had let everyone off with just a few guardian calls and warnings. But you knew for Sadie, Evelyn, and the rest of that group, it wasnât over yet. You had also noticed things seemed better between Chaerin and Jay. She now sat with him during the joint classes, and even though it got a little lonely sometimes you werenât about to hold your best friend back for your own comfort. Still, you found yourself missing Chisa and Jurin a little more these days, considering they werenât even from your department to begin with.
Too bad Heeseung wasnât participating either, he was busy with his boxing gigs and practices as usual. That left you with Jungwon and Sunoo, who stuck together, and Sunghoon, who occasionally sat with youâŠ.and sometimes with a certain blonde student who preferred the very last row.
And now, as you stared at Sunghoon doodling absolute nonsense on your notebook, you couldnât help but wonder what had even made Jake think about such bullshit. God, you wanted to ask Sunghoon about it so badly. But then again, getting involved in more mess sounded far worse than just staying confused.
âI hope this trip will be memorable for our two most loved departments,â an unfamiliar professor concluded her speech, probably a new recruit for the trip. You stretched your neck, trying to ease the stiffness.
âYou need help?â Sunghoon asked glancing at your exhausted state after days of barely sleeping. You shook your head, forcing a tight lipped smile ânoâŠ.Iâm okay.â
âDamn, you look rough as hell.â
Jake flinched at the familiar deep voice. Felix gave him a casual salute before slipping into the seat beside him âabout the footage, Iâm still tryingââ
âItâs okay, Felix. IâŠI donât need it anymore,â he sighed, gaze unconsciously fixing on your back, which was unbeknownst to you slightly slouched against Sunghoonâs shoulder. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest. Whatever.
âBut bro, your credit pointsââ Felix pouted. Jake let out a small chuckle âI can still score well in the field trip research and finalsâŠâ making the other guy mumble something along the lines of âI donât know how you people manage this,â before getting completely lost in his own thoughts.
âExcuse me⊠uhm?â
The nineteen year old looked up and instinctively leaned back a little âyesâŠ.can I help you?â
There was no way his eyes were deceiving him at 8 a.m. on a class day. Standing right in front of him was the same girl who had sneezed a few days ago and, very unfortunately left clear snots on his brand new hoodie.âAre you okay now?â he asked, a bit cautiously, glancing at his current shirt as your cheeks turned pink.
âY-yeahâŠâ How embarrassing. You bit your lip and pulled out his belonging you had been meaning to return ever since that day. God, this guy had been hard to find. You were a freshman too but at least you had friends. It seemed like no one in his department even knew him â or maybe they were just discovering him for the first time whenever you asked about him.
âThank you for that day,â you said, avoiding eye contact as you held out the properly washed and dried handkerchief, the letter âJâ neatly stitched in one corner. He took it back and scratching his brown hair awkwardly âyou couldâve just kept itâŠâ
What??? Did he think you couldnât afford a handkerchief or something?...
But you were incapable of carrying oneâ
Shut the fuck up author.
âIâm really sorry for causing you trouble that day,â you added, this time more clearly while bending down to give him a small apologetic bow. âIâm Y/n from the architecture department by the way!â
An unnecessarily cute smile spread across his face, and you could practically feel the nervous giddiness radiating off him.
âNo need to apologize, Y-Y/n⊠Iâm Jaââ
âAll architecture students are requested to assemble in the auditorium⊠I repeat, all architecture studentsâŠâ
You mentally groaned at the sound of your deanâs voice echoing through the corridor ânice meeting you uhh I should go.â You gave him a quick wave before turning away.
Jake raised his hand to wave back, but you were already gone by then.
ââŠBye...y/n.â
# 10 the heart wants what it wants
âNo way whatââ you gasped in horror, staring at the full sleeved outfits you were planning to pack for the trip. They were ruined with very noticeable holes staring back at you from almost every piece. âAre you fucking kidding me???? Even after paying a bloody amount of fees Decelis dorms have rats in the closet?â you cried immediately yanking every piece of clothing out of your wardrobe and throwing them onto your bed.
Except you were a little wrong. There werenât any rats in Decelis. They were in your own house, ehich, unfortunately you had failed to notice while packing your winter clothes.
You glanced at the clock â almost 11:30 p.m. Chaerin was out shopping with the girls and you were pretty sure they had wrapped up by now. Calling them for your emergency would be pointless. You just needed some basic clothes for the three day trip. You hesitated for a moment then dialed Sunghoonâs number. He picked up within a few rings.
âAt your service maâamâ
You could hear a few familiar voices in the background, but you ignored them and spoke frantically. âSunghoon, can you accompany me to the mall???? Thereâs a huge emergency.â
He immediately sensed your panic âwait hold onââ
A few seconds passed before he spoke again. âIs it okay if I bringââ
âYes, itâs okay! You can bring whoever you want!!â you nearly yelled, already slipping into a pair of jeans and a thin top, not even paying attention to whatever Sunghoon said next before hanging up.
And you wished so badly that you could take back your words. The weather was awful and the top you were wearing did absolutely nothing except sit on you like a useless decoration. Your phone was at 12%, and right beside you stood a very unaffected Jake with Sunghoon, of course. Even when you tried not to look, you kept stealing glances at him.
Ughhh what am I supposed to do??? He looks mad fine in that maroon leather jacket, alright?!
You hugged yourself tightly despite having just argued with Sunghoon about how you werenât cold at all. From the corner of your eye, you could see him giving you a pitiful look.
You heard the faint rustle of leather shifting beside you and gulped. No matter what happens...you are not going to accept Jakeâs offer if he tried to give you his jacket. Not at all. Even if you freeze to death right here.
You glanced at him again, only to find him pulling the jacket closer around himself and buttoning it all the way up to his neck.
Your ears burned hot. Whatever asshole.
You quickly marched up to Sunghoon who was walking a little ahead, completely missing the way Jakeâs gloved hands had subtly moved, almost like he had been about to reach out for you. He let out a quiet breath when your presence disappeared from beside him, and slipped his hands back into his pockets.
Looking at the clearly pissed staffs who were definitely not expecting a uni student to go shopping at nearly 11:50 a.m., just ten minutes before closing â you realized you didnât have the luxury to pick and choose. You grabbed whatever full sleeved, warm clothes you could find on the racks and started mentally estimating the total. You looked around trying to find where the other two boys had gone, only to spot them hanging out near a rack of oversized tees.
You sighed. At least things were better between Jake and Sunghoon. Otherwise the guilt of being the reason for their friendship breaking apart wouldâve eaten you alive for the rest of your college life.
âUhâŠ.maâam, I donât think these are your sizeâŠâ
You flinched, not realizing a staff member had been watching you inspect the pile of clothes you had picked. She studied them for a moment, then grabbed a few more items from the rack and handed them to you with a bright smile.âYou can try these in the trial room!â
And thank God you did. Because every single piece you had chosen was completely the wrong size. You almost cried in relief when you tried on the clothes the staff had picked. God bless that sweet girl.
Along with basic tops and tees, she had also included a baby pink dress with frills and tiny pearls. Too girly for your taste but it wouldnât hurt to try right?
You slipped it on and froze. Wow.
Maybe you should start wearing dresses more often. It fit you perfectly. You turned slightly, only to notice the zipper was still open, exposing your bare back. Ugh.
You tried reaching behind, attempting to pull it up yourself, silently praying you wouldnât ruin the dress.
âAck!â you yelped in frustration when the zipper refused to budge.
âexcuse me?â you called out, hoping the staff was nearby âI need a bit of help here!â
No one responded. You waited for another fifteen minutes and were just about to give up with an expression already turning sour, when the trial room door suddenly opened.
You sighed in relief, still craning your neck awkwardly to look at the zipper âuhmâsorry to bother again, I just needâAHHWHATDAFUCK!â
Your sentence ended in a sharp screech when you saw who was standing behind you in the mirror. Jake bit his lower lip, clearly trying to look anywhere but your bare back as he stammered, âT-the staffs are cleaning upâŠand there was no one around, yâyou were callingâuhhhâ
âWell then hurry up idiot now that youâre here!â you panicked, ignoring the sudden heat pooling in your stomach.
He nodded quickly, placing one hand lightly on your shoulder while the other reached for the zipper. Through the refelection you noticed his gaze wavering, shakily tracing the expanse of your back before he startled and looked up. You mentally facepalmed when your eyes met his in the reflection.
âIâm sorry! I didnât mean to lookâthe chain is stuckââ
âAnd who set this system up?! Look at the chain if that helps you!â you snapped again.
He swallowed and looked down again. After a few more minutes of struggling and his rough finger pads occasionally brushing against your back, sending unwanted goosebumps down your spine â Jake finally managed to pull the zipper up. Both of you let out a breath of relief. Then his eyes lifted again, scanning your reflection. You forgot for a moment, that Jake was even inside the trial room.
The dress lookedâŠ.perfect. Yeah. You were definitely keeping this.
You noticed his lips moving behind you and turned slightly âyou saying something?â
He shook his head quickly. âNah⊠itâs nothing.â
After giving yourself one last look and checking for any damage, you pushed Jake out of the room and locked the door behind you.
âFuckfuckfuckfuckâŠâ you whispered, sliding down against the door and covering your face.
âFucking sexy.â
His ass wasnât slick at all. You definitely heard what he whispered and a part of you wanted to hear it again. Too bad he was a fucking pussy. A knock came from outside, Sunghoonâs voice reminding you that the poor staffs probably wanted to go home. You checked your reflection one last time, trying to calm yourself down before facing Jake again and then you stepped out.
The walk back to the dorm wasnât as awkward as you thought it would be except for the fact that your stomach kept rumbling, constantly reminding you that you skipped dinner. You wanted to go back and order something but Sunghoon protested, insisting he knew a nearby ramen place that stayed open until almost 3 a.m. Ignoring your protests he grabbed your arm and dragged you in the direction of the shop, with Jake trailing behind.
And honestly you were so glad you listened to him. The moment warm smell of the spicy soup hit you, your hunger spiked. The shop was small, almost like a pocket version of Decelis cafeteria, barely able to fit ten people at once. And at this hour it was completely empty.
The owner looked more than happy to see customers, probably not expecting to make any money this late.
As you relaxed into the small wooden chair, your eyes drifted toward Jake. He was looking at something on his phone, smiling to himself.
There was something about the way the corner of his lips curled when he smiled. It felt familiar. Maybe because you had noticed it before but never paid much attention to? considering he barely smiled back when you two were busy pissing each other off.
You cleared your throat. I mean he still pisses me off.
Your train of thought didnât get to reach its destination before the owner arrived with three bowls of perfectly cooked katsu ramen. And in no time you dove headfirst into the soupy madness of noodles and vegetables. While eating you noticed Sunghoon quietly picking out spring onions from his bowl and dropping them into yours. You snickered when he met your eyes and soon both of you were giggling.
Across the table Jake tightened his grip on his chopsticks, then picked up a few pieces of chicken katsu and dropped them into your bowl.
Both you and Sunghoon looked up at him, mouths slightly open, waiting for an explanation. He shrugged âI donât like katsuâŠâ
Sunghoon immediately kicked him under the table âdid you hit your head or something??? You literally said you wanted to eat katsu ramen!â
Jake licked his lips, ignoring your questioning look and turned to Sunghoon â well I just decided I donât like katsu anymoreâ
âPlease log out.â
âAhhhh, Iâm so full,â you yawned after devouring an entire bowl including the spring onions from Sunghoon and the katsu pieces from Jake. The chilly weather reminded you that you still had to walk back to the dorm. Thankfully it wasnât that far from the ramen shop.
âSunghoon you just introduced me to a gem. Iâm bringing the girls here next time!â you said doing small excited jumps. Sunghoon chuckled âsure.â
He stared at you for a moment then suddenly stepped closer and grabbed your jaw gently, lowering his voice âthereâs something near your eye.â
You paused confused, as Sunghoonâs broad figure hovered so close, his fingers brushing lightly near your eye. Maybe your mascara had smudged a bit, you werenât really sure. After a few seconds, he pulled back only to trip slightly in the process, making both of you burst into laughter.
Jake bit his tongue trying to stop himself from screaming or doing something he would only regret while watching sunghoon hovering over you, his back facing him. Sunghoon kissing the girl he claimed he might be interested in? Not okay. Sunghoon touching you like that? Definitely not okay.
He canât.
Why?
He just canât.
Why? Because heâs a coward who canât admit his own feelings? Or is it because he was extremely jealous and radiating off black aura realising he never got to kiss you within a normal circumstance.
Jake was acting weird. Like, very weird.
You chewed on a protein bar as you continued packing your clothes. The bus was leaving early at 7 a.m. tomorrow, and since the destination was far you decided not to waste time on your phone tonight and just sleep early. But deciding something and actually putting that into action were two completely different things. You kept tossing and turning, the incidents from the past few days crowding your mind. You and Jake had barely interacted â it felt like time had rewound itself to when you only knew him as someone with a bad reputation, and he probably wasnât even aware of your existence.
You placed your palm over your chest, feeling your heart beat steadily.
Chaerin did say something about listening to your heart a few days ago. You almost forgot about it.
Nope. There was nothing your heart had to say.
You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to sleep. Within ten minutes, your body finally relaxed under the covers.
# 11 moonstruck
âI canât believe theyâre making us travel at 7 in the morning⊠ugh,â Chaerin groaned, her face still puffy and voice laced with sleepiness. You laughed while pinching her cheeks as you tried to help her sit up properly on the bus seat. Outside, the view slowly shifted, from tall skyscrapers to wide stretches of greenery, with the occasional factories passing by. The gentle jerks of the bus made you drowsy, and you rested your head against the window.
After almost an hour and a half of traveling, three buses packed with students from both departments finally reached their destination.
The decade old heritage building, subject of this trip's research stood tall just a few minutes away, within walking distance of the accommodation everyone was staying in. After the professors finished handing out room keys, Chaerin grabbed your hand.
âY/nâŠme and Jayâweâre staying togetherâŠâ
You gave her a sly smile âoh hoâŠ?â
But instead of smiling back she looked worried. You noticed it immediately and patted her back. âItâs okay Chaerin. Iâm not sad about you leaving me aloneâIâll have the room all to myself anyway.â
She tightened her grip on your hand âuhm⊠but his roommateââ
âOh, donât worry they can stay with mâwait, what?â You went quiet. How did you forget about that detail? Panic creeped inside you as you whispered, âWho is his roommate?â
âSunghoon,â Chaerin replied almost instantly. You let out a breath of relief. Okay then, sharing a room with a guy wasnât exactly something you had mentally prepared for, but it was just Sunghoon after allâ
âBut Sunghoon is sharing a room with Sunoo and Jungwon⊠which leaves you with Jake.â
Chaerinâs words cut through your thoughts, and your brain immediately stopped working then did a complete reboot.
Everything felt unreal like some crazy new york bestselling authorâs bullshit until you and Jake were really standing in the doorway of a single room with your respective luggage.
âSee, Iâm not doing that âyou take the bed and Iâll sleep on the couchâ shit,â you rambled, shoving Jake aside as you entered. Partly because you wanted to claim the better side of the bed and partly cause you didnât want him to see your tomato red face. Jake followed silently as you continued, âBathroom usage should be no more than twenty minutesâand that includes showering and shittingâwhat the fuck, hey! thatâs my side!â
You gasped as you saw Jake already dumping his duffel bag and stretching out on the side of the bed you had clearly intended for yourself. He shrugged âfirst come, first serve.â
Insufferable prick.
You tossed your bag onto a nearby beanbag and stormed into the en suite bathroom. Just before shutting the door you peeked your head out and shot him a dead glare âand since Iâm the first one to use the bathroom I wonât be coming out for an hour.â
âWhat the fuckâ?! Thatâs not fair, what?!â He sat up straight for the first time, making direct eye contact.
You stuck your tongue out. âFirst come, first serve right back at you.â
Since it was the very first day there wasnât much scheduled â just self exploration and students hanging out. The actual research would begin the next day. You were in the middle of sorting your outfits when a notification popped up in the group chat.
Professor Han: Mandatory physical activities for students will take place in five minutes. Please wrap up and come outside.
Are you kidding me? It was nearly 3 p.m. Who in their right mind even does physical activities at this ungodly hour? You huffed while slipping into a pair of trousers and a white baby tee. Since Jake was still in the bathroom, you changed in the room and decided to head out before him.
The sun was slowly softening, air turning breezy. You noticed people already forming groups and jogged over where jay sunghoon chaerin was chatting. After catching up and you ranting to Chaerin about Jake stealing your side of the bed, everyone soon found themselves gathered in front of two large cardboard boxes. Professor Han stood at the front with a mic, alongside a few other assistant professors.
âSince this is a conjoined trip, we believe team bonding is very important before anything else.â
A wave of groans and sighs rippled through the crowd, clearly reflecting the ongoing tension between architecture and engineering departments.
Ignoring that, âSo, weâve decided to pair everyone up using a lottery system!â Professor Kim announced. That earned actual curses from the students. âNo bad words!â
âFirst line, please come forward one by one and pick a random slip from either of these boxes. Announce your partnerâs name, and they must stand beside you butââ Professor Han paused for effect making sure he had everyoneâs attention.
ââhereâs a twist.â
The crowd leaned in.
âIf you donât like the partner you get you can exchange them with someone you do like!â
That instantly caused an uproar this time of relief. At least no one would be stuck with someone they didnât want. The lottery began. Some got their friends, some exchanged and some were left awkwardly unmatched. And then finally it was your turn. You walked forward and picked a slip without much thought. The name slipped out of your mouth before your brain could fully process it.
âJake Sim, engineering department.â
You heard few girls snickering behind you.
Without missing a beat you spoke again, âI want to exchange my partner with Park Sunghoon!â
You ignored Sunghoonâs confused expression, doing everything in your power to not look at Jake, who stood somewhere behind him.
âWhat the fuck was that?â Sunghoon whisper yelled. You crossed your arms and ignored the tug in your chest. âJust doing what he wanted.â
âHe wanted that? Whatâwhen?! How?!â Sunghoon looked genuinely lost.
âQuiet! No commotion⊠next one, please come up,â Professor Han continued. One by one, everyone got their partners. And then it was Jakeâs turn. He was wearing a cap so you couldnât clearly see his expression. He picked up a slip, stared at it for a moment then looked up.
âEvelyn Jung, engineering department.â
Your arms dropped to your sides. The composure you had been holding onto shattered instantly. Heâs going to exchange his partner right? Right???
Jake said nothing as Evelyn with her bubbly energy skipped over to him in no time, immediately starting a conversation. And to your absolute demise you saw the corner of Jakeâs lips curling upward.
Fuck him. Fuck both of them. You were so done.
The warm up session began with everyone helping their partners with stretching, sit-ups, and a few breathing exercises.
âSo what the fuck was that?â Sunghoon asked again, pressing your feet down as you did a set of sit ups. âNo idea,â you replied kicking him slightly when you felt his grip weakening. âOuch! Okay, damn!â he winced then glanced toward Jake and Evelyn, who were doing the same exercise not too far away.
âIs Jake going insane after that assignment incident?? The mf said he doesnât like katsu anymore, and now he just accepted Evelyn as his partner?!â Sunghoon sounded like he didnât believe a single word coming out of his own mouth. You exhaled sharply. Enough of Jake, Jake, Jake, and Jake. He could go fuck himself with a dildo named Evelynâ
âaugh!â
Some students paused nearby at the sound of Evelynâs voice. Even though you didnât want to look you still glanced over at the commotion.
âJakeâit hurts!â she winced, pointing at her ankle which looked completely fine. Jake gently rubbed the spot âsorry I mightâve put too much pressure...â She shook her head in denial muttering how weak she felt nowadays then suddenly leaned forward â her lips barely grazed his cheek.
You saw red. You kicked Sunghoon again, freeing your feet, and stood up abruptly.
âWhaâwoman what the fuck happens to you from time to time?!â Sunghoon groaned. You ignored him already walking back toward the accommodation. âTell Professor Han I donât feel well.â
And for a long time you didnât. You stayed curled up covering yourself, biting your lips until they nearly bled as your mind filled with a storm of thoughts. By the time Jake entered the room tired and sweaty you were already fast asleep. He crouched down beside your bed, his thumb gently brushing away the dried tears still clinging to your face âwhy are you always in distress when Iâm not lookingâŠâ
Your lips moved slightly making him pause before leaning in closer to catch your faint whisper.
âJake you piece of shitâŠ.I hope you get chlamydiaâŠâ
Day one of the field trip began with you waking up tucked under the duvet, your voice groggy and your face puffy. You sat up quickly realizing you had slept through the entire night like a baby. Frantically searching for your phone your eyes drifted to the empty space beside you. Seems like someone didnât come back last night. He was probably with Evelyn.
You sighed, already tired of Jake being the first thought after you opened your eyes, and decided to freshen up. It was officially research day.
After joining everyone for breakfast in the buffet area and successfully avoiding Jake, who seemed to be avoiding you too, you chatted with the others as if nothing was wrong.
âYouâre acting weird again,â Sunghoon whispered casually picking spring onions off his plate and dropping them onto yours. You munched on a piece of toasted bread and shot a glare at Jakeâs back, where he stood talking to Jay.
âWell I was born with it. Deal with it cause If youâre going to get romantically involved with a person you should like them as a whole.â
Sunghoon scrunched his face in disgust âwhy the hell would I get involved with you?â
âExactlyâwhy the fuck would you?!â you snapped âSo go ahead and shove that idea into your friendâs thick skull!â and stuffed a piece of bread into Sunghoonâs mouth which hung open in shock.
âLook at these marvelous old money designs! Oh how beautifully they balance with the mechanical structures without hindering the engineering of the base!â The assistant professor walked ahead followed by a group of students including you. Other groups trailed behind different faculty members each being guided through the heritage building. âOhâand did you know these bricks weigh nearly ten kilos? My myâŠ.how did they carve such fine designsâŠâ
Yeah. You couldnât wait to dig up a brick tonight and smash it on your roommateâs head. Suddenly you were shoved aside as a swaying figure of Evelyn appeared in front of you âSorry my leg is injured,â she faked a smile before walking up to the professor and whispering something. After she finished, the professor clapped to get everyoneâs attention.
âOur lovely student, Miss Evelyn has proposed a plan to take some beautiful photos of the building for later research purposes in pairs! So why donât we follow the same pairing process we used yesterday?â
And just like that you wished you could dig up two bricks. Because murdering Jake wouldnât be enough. Evelyn had to go too.
When you were six, there was this strange shaman lady who used to live next door. She would always look at you like something was terribly wrong and tell your mother that your planets were not aligned. While growing up you never really thought of her again until now, at this moment when you just finished drawing out a slip and read the name, the same damn name again, you truly believed your planets were at this point crashing with each other.
âJake Sim, engineering department,â you called out in a robotic voice. Then you looked up at the crowd.
âI would like to exchange my partner. Park Sunghoon come out.â
âOkay what is your deal actually?â Chaerin smacked your hands as you tried to focus your phone camera on a plain white pillar.
âI want to go home,â you replied almost instantly. She nodded âyes, we all do, butââ
âNo, you donât!â You swatted her hand away, clearly irritated. Chaerin followed your clearly distracted and distressed stare, beyond the plain white pillar and spotted Evelyn taking pictures of Jake while he was busy scribbling something in his notebook. She sighed then grabbed your hands again. âY/n why are you pushing him away like this when the universe is literally trying to make it work?â
Your mind was still burning from getting paired with Jake for the second time only to exchange him for Sunghoon â and practically hand him over to Evelyn with pink ribbons yet AGAIN. You snapped âI hope the universe fucking blows up tomorrow.â
Chaerin quickly stepped in front of you blocking your view before you could throw hands at the nearby girls who heard your comment while giving you looks. Then she crossed her arms.
âThe more you push him away the more youâre going to get hurt,â she said firmly. âIf you really want him gone say it to his face. Say you want no trouble and want to graduate without being in his presence. Say youâre done with everythingâRight. To. His. Face.â
You clenched your jaw. Like hell you werenât going to do that. Oh you definietly would. You just needed a little time. Just a little.
As the day ended with a few more lectures, note taking, and you actively avoiding the sight of Jake and Evelyn working together â you found yourself lying on the hotel bed completely exhausted and sweating, even in the chilly November weather. Too tired to even scoot away from Jake who seemed equally worn out. You shifted slightly trying to find a comfortable position under the air conditioner when his hand lightly brushed against yours.
You shot up âhow scandalous!â
Jake rolled his eyes ânever expected you to have such big words in your dictionary.â
âNot my fault youâre uneducated,â you huffed, tossing the pillows and duvet off the bed that were bothering you. Jake turned to the other side facing the window while you also turned the opposite way, staring hard at the beige wall.
He wasn't even gonna bicker with you now? Wow....well good for you. At least that saved you some time and your mental peace. You bit the inside of your cheek trying not to make a sound as a sob threatened to escape your throat.
Want him gone? How could you want him gone when your stupid heart refused to even accept that this was real? Sure you never wanted trouble. But things were far past that now. Why was Jake making you feel so confused? One moment he pulled you close like nothing had ever happened. The next you were left feeling tossed aside. Godâyou had even thrown off the duvet. Now there was nothing to muffle your tears or even cover yourself.
âY/n?â
You heard Jakeâs voice, softer this time. And though you wanted to answer, nothing really came out. See, this was your problem. Of course Jake would keep tossing you around if you couldnât even stand up for yourself.
âAre you asleep?â he asked again.
You opened your mouth to answer but then felt arms encircling your waist and pulling you back, that instantly shut you up. Your back hit with jake's chest, warmth radiating off it. And as you tried your best to not wiggle you felt his breathe on your earlobs. "I'm sorry it's too cold...I'm so sorry...Just let me stay like this for a while..."
His sleepy voice faded into quiet breaths, then soft snores. You let out a careful breath and slowly relaxed into his hold.
Avoiding Jake at this point felt easier than avoiding Professor Minâs eyes. Why the hell was that hag even here? He called the two of you aside during breakfast, eyeing both you and Jake carefully. âIâve noticed some ongoing tension between you twoâŠ.not to mention the rumors about you sharing the same room are circulating among the teachers.â
You waited impatiently as he went on about how he shouldnât catch you doing anything unethical with him blah, blah, blah.
You gulped. Does Jake remember what happened last night?
You glanced at him and found him looking somewhere else completely unfazed. Does he not remember anything at all? The answer had already been clear that morning when you woke up, tucked neatly under the duvet again, while Jakeâs side of the bed was spotless, like no one had ever slept there except you. Why was he doing this?
âY/n, Jake Iâm talking to you.â
You snapped back to reality as Professor Min held out a fishing rod toward you both. âYou two should go fishing. Consider it bonding timeâ
What now??? He canât be serious right????
What shocked you even more was Jake casually taking the fishing rod without any protest, muttering a quiet âthank you.â
He turned and walked away, as you followed behind.
âJake!âwaitâyouâre not actually serious about the fishing thing, right?! We have tons of paperwork!â you called out to him as he walked a few meters ahead. He didnât turn back âThereâs still time to thinkâŠ.and if you donât want to come with me then donât. Iâll just find another partner.â
Another partner??? What??? He couldnât possibly mean EvelynâŠ.right?
You let out a frustrated sigh and stomped past him, your steps heavy against the green field even if they barely made a mark.
Day two of the trip officially ended with a lot of note taking and observation. Fortunately everyone worked individually this time saving you from the emotional turmoil of being paired with Jake again. You scrubbed yourself harshly in the shower, tired, irritated, and somewhere close to feeling like dying. This trip was supposed to be your final push to move on. Seems like you were just stuck in the same place forever. Thatâs it. You slammed the handheld shower back into place and grabbed your towel.
You were going to move on. That was it. No more excuses and accepting anything from Jake.
After skipping dinner for two days straight you couldnât risk it anymore. You needed fill your stomach before something else went wrong again.
âSlow down oh my God,â Chaerin muttered. You ignored her stuffing your mouth with whatever was on your plate. Sunghoon quickly held out a glass of water when you choked but immediately stopped when you shot him a glare.
âAre you trying to kill yourself or the chicken?â he muttered under his breath witnessing you stabbing the piece of meat repeatedly. Jake was nowhere to be seen. Not like you cared. He was a grown adult, it was his responsibility to eat on time. But your heart dropped when you overheard Jay telling Sunghoon that they hadnât seen Jake since the afternoon. You slowed down, chewing more carefully, trying to come up with logical reasons. Heâd come back eventually. He always did.
Beside you Chaerin noticed your uneasiness and nudged your shoulder. âY/n did Jake say anythââ
âDonât involve me with him anymore,â you cut her off coldly, wiping your mouth with a tissue. Yeah you werenât getting tangled in this shit again.
Back in the room you went through your usual skincare routine and flopped onto the bed, wishing yourself a very heartfelt goodnight. But even after tossing and turning across the entire bed sleep refused to come. Your hand instinctively reached for your phone.
11:30 pm.
It was pitch black outside, except for the dim lights near the entrance. Where the fuck was Jake? After five minutes of thinking and another five minutes of cursing yourself, you finally slipped on your hoodie and walked out of the room.
As you stepped out of the accommodation, you dialed his number. As expected it went straight to voicemail. He should honestly throw that phone away if he wasnât even going to use it for its actual purpose. You shivered. The cold felt harsher now that you were out in the open, surrounded by vast, empty fields. From this distance, the site and the accommodation looked like tiny ants. You kept walking. What started as irritation slowly turned into worry. You dialed Jakeâs number again but it was no use. A frustrated groan escaped your lips. When was the last time you saw him? Where could he even beâYou forced yourself to calm down.
Think. And then it hit you. The image of him taking the fishing rod from Professor Min flashed across your mind.
The small lake behind the heritage building! You retraced your steps toward the old building. Your lungs burned craving warmth, as the air grew even colder near the lake. You turned on your phoneâs flashlight.
âJake?â you called, turning your head frantically. âJake?!â eventually yelling louder.
What the fuck. You coughed, your throat dry from running and panting. Then you walked further. Slowly your vision adjusted. An old wooden bridge stretched across the lake. And there a hazy figure sat at the edge, shivering, alone, holding a fishing rod.
Fucking hell.
âJAKE!â you screamed with everything you had. The figure looked up. Soon jake's blurry figure stood up a little wobbly, maybe because he was sitting there for long. He dropped the fishing rod on the bridge and started running towards you. After a while his face became visible and you realised the reason he seemed blurry was not because of the weather but because of your own eyes tearing up. You quickly wiped your tears before he could get any closer.
âWhat are you doing here?â he asked, slightly breathless, clearly not expecting anyone to come looking for him. You clicked your tongue. You wanted to push him straight into the lake. Commit firstndegree murder right there and be done with it. But your trembling hands and racing mind just needed to see him safe.
âItâs almost midnight â you muttered looking down, fidgeting with your fingers. Jake ran a hand through his hair and nodded. âI knowâŠ.go back. Itâs lateââ
âWhat about you?â you cut in. He stepped back slightly. âYou donât have to worry about me.â
Oof. The same fucking conversation. You crossed your arms and finally looked up, your embarrassment, your shame, everything gone. You didnât care if he saw you like this anymore, all ugly, devastated, hurt and confused.
âNothing really matters to you except your own feelings, does it?â
Jake clenched his fists âI didnât mean it like that, I was justââ
âYeah, you were just out here fulfilling your duty as an obedient student right?â you snapped. âLeaving everyone worried sick!â
Your head rang with every word. Jake frowned. âNo oneâs worried Y/n, I texted Professor Min before coming here. I also let Hoon and the others know.â
Oh. So it was just you acting like a fucking madwoman.
âWhat about me then JakeâŠ?â
Your voice cracked and you didnât have the strength to repeat it. Jake opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His mind refused to cooperate.
âEveryone gets an explanation while Iâm left stranded here like alwaysâŠâ you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He reached for your cold hands. âIâm sorry I thought you wouldnâtâŠâ
âWouldnât what?â
He bit his lower lip âwouldnât want to associate with me anymore.â
Yeah right. Thank fucking God he reminded you of that dumb excuse youâd been hiding yourself behind. âYeah??? Would wanting to make a difference?â you snapped. âYou didnât even take me seriously when I wanted you for myself.â
The words slipped out through gritted teeth. Jake bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he needed to let go of whatever he was holding backâbut he just couldnât.
âWhy would you even want meââ
âYeah, rightâI donât anymore idiot!â you cut him off. âGo fuck yourself! I donât care if you freeze to death and fall into the riverâI donât care if I never see you again! I donât!â You shoved his shoulder mid sob.
Something slipped from his clenched fist and fell to the ground.
Under the faint yellow glow of a nearby lamppost you noticed it...a bracelet. Brown beads strung together. You recognized it instantly. The beads were arranged unevenly, clearly fixed after being broken.
Jake bent down to pick it up but you were faster. You grabbed it and noticed the white elastic stringâthe same one you had snapped weeks ago. Another wave of tears blurred your vision.
âWâwhat is thatâŠ?â
Jake reached out to take it back, but you stepped away.
âY/n give it back. The beads are still notââ
âItâs mine,â you said, shaking your head.
âI never said it wasnât yoursâit just needs fixingââ
âDamn it Jake I said itâs mine! Stop bothering me!â You pushed him again, this time hard enough for him to stumble back. Jake inhaled sharply. And then walked toward you in long strides. You tried to move but it was pointless. He grabbed your arms and pulled you toward him. You yelped as jake squished your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him.
âStop acting like a brat,â he hissed, struggling to keep his composure.
Brat? Oh, he wanted to call you a brat right now? Fine. You will show him what a real brat looked like.
You took a sharp breath and threw the bracelet into the lake. A small splash echoed in the silence.
You stood there, breathing heavily, as Jakeâs hands slowly fell away from your face. He stared at the water. You didnât even know why you did that but you were done. Completely done.You turned to walk away but froze mid step when a louder splash cut through the air.
What the fuckâNo. No this canât beâ
âJAKE!â you screamed, running toward the edge of the lake.
You shrieked as icy lake water splashed onto you, the reality crashing in â titanic level of shit was going to unfold if you didnât pull Jake out right now. âMotherfucker I will strangle you if you donât come out this instant!â you yelled. But he disappeared under the water. NoâŠwhat?
âJakeâŠ?â you called again. But no response came. Your heart dropped to your ass. Soon you muttered a quick prayer, rolled up your pants, and stepped into the lake. The freezing water bit into your skin turning it numb almost instantly but you were way past caring about that.
âJake!â you screamed again. Before you could take another step a hand grabbed your leg. You screamed as you slipped into the water.
After what felt like forever, almost twenty minutes of struggling you finally managed to drag Jakeâs coughing body out of the lake.
Your strength gave out immediately. Both of you collapsed onto the grass, soaked and shivering. Jake looked like he was about to pass out.
Panic surged through you as you pulled his upper body onto your lap and began pressing your hands against his chest, trying to help him breathe.
âJâJake can you hear me?? Are you okay?â you whispered, leaning closer to his face. He gave a weak nod. Then slowly lifted his left hand. The bracelet tangled around his fingers.
And through ragged breaths he managed to choke out a faint yes.
You felt an invisible weight lift off your shoulders the moment you heard his voice. Jake tried to sit up, gripping your arms, but you didnât let him. You clutched his soaked shirt and buried your face against his rising chest.
âWhy would you do that?!â
He didnât reply. You bit your lip hard until it almost bled. âYouâre so fucking dumbâŠso so fucking dumbâŠâ
Jakeâs fingers moved gently moving your tangled dripping hair to see your face and he sighed âwhy would you throw it, dumbassâŠ?â
âDoes that thing mean more to you than me?â you snapped looking up at him, eyes red from crying, a tear streaked face, and a very ungraceful runny nose. Jake exhaled slowly.
âI donât knowâŠâ
âThen what the fuck do you knowââ
âI just knew I had to pick it up,â he cut in. âOtherwise Iâd lose it forever⊠and I donât want to lose it.â He looked straight into your eyes. You pressed your lips together holding back another sob then tugged his arm.âLetâs go backâŠâ
He didnât say anything else and he stood up with your help. And the two of you walked back slowly, close enough for your hands to stay intertwined, toward the faint light of the accommodation.
No words were exchanged but somewhere deep inside, your heart knew something still needed to be said.
The last day of the trip started with both you and Jake getting scolded and grounded by almost every professor after someone snitched about seeing you two wandering the halls at midnight looking like swamp zombies.
Thankfully Jake seemed fine after a long sleep. You made a mental note to have a proper conversation with him once you are back in Decelis.
âThank you, everyone, for participating in this field trip. Every student here did an excellent job in their researchâŠincluding the ones indulging in unethical activitiesâŠâ
You rolled your eyes discreetly at Professor Minâs words. He can go to hell for all you care. You just wanted to get back to the dorm
â...And now, for the most anticipated announcement I received from the principal last nightâthe date for this yearâs gala has been finalized. It will take place on the 7th of October that is few weeks from now.â
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles. Wait what? Chaerin grabbed your arms, practically bouncing. âOh my God!!! Y/n!!! Finally the gala week!â
ButâŠyour talk with Jake?
âI wish all students good luck for their semester ending exams next month. Enjoy your gala,â Professor Min concluded. And just like that everyone scattered to pack their bags and rush toward the buses. You glanced at Jake. Sunghoon was already bombarding him with something talking nonstop. Jake looked up, as your eyes met with his. And you immediately looked away. Fuck your heart still wasnât ready to face him. Fine. Youâd talk to him. No matter what, hefore the gala. You had to.
# 12 billet-doux
âYouâre not coming?? Bitch your grandma is coming,â Chaerin scoffed after you gave her the weakest excuse imaginable for skipping the gala next Saturday. She wasnât having it.
âY/n, be fucking for real. How long are you going to lock yourself up and waste your youth?â
No shit your youth was currently busy running after someone who seemed very occupied this week. Jake was elected by his classmates to be the face of the department this gala and that made him almost untouchable (not like he was not anyways). He was constantly surrounded by seniors, being briefed on responsibilities, and all that formal bullshit. And every time you wanted to get up and pull him aside for a little chat you would get bombarded by your classmate who still thought you were two timing with him and sunghoon. Everything was so fucking tiring but you were not giving up until you were seeing the end of it.
âY/nnnnn!â Chaerin whined again.
You sighed âfine. Iâll go...I guess.â
The girl infront of you stopped spinning on your study chair and jumped. âREALLY??? Oh my God! We need to go shopping this is so happening finaââ
You cut her off the moment she said shopping and walked to your wardrobe.
You cut her off hearing the shopping part and walked towards your wardrobe. "I donât think i need to buy anything chae...i already got....this one!" You pulled out the same pink dress with frills and pearls you bought before trip and chaerin's mouth hung opened. "Where and when did you buy this gorgeous dress???"
You blushed a little and scratched your neck "well it's a long story"
Jake had been zoning out a lot these days. Well it wasnât exactly his fault. His head felt light all the time like he was stuck somewhere else but now, at least he knew what he had to do. He stared at the bracelet he had retrieved from the lake that night, the voices of seniors and professors fading into a blur in the background. He needed to return what was yours to begin with.
âYo.âHe looked up to see Sunghoon sliding into the seat beside him.âYouâŠcoming for practice later right?â Sunghoon asked but his eyes quickly fell on the bracelet in Jakeâs hand. A smirk spread across his face. âStill not giving up? I thought you were done with your feelings.â Jake sighed and slipped the bracelet back into his pocket. âYeah Hoon. Iâm done giving two fucks about waiting.â He leaned back slightly, that familiar smugness returning on his face âIâm going after your crush so watch out.â
Sunghoon blinked âExcuse me???? HeyâJake! Where are you goingâJake!â
You sat still as Chaerin applied highlighter to your cheekbones. It was already past 7 p.m., which meant the gala would start any moment. You exhaled slowly. It was tonight or never. You needed to talk to jake no matter who comes in between you won't fucking back up.
âChae, sit down. Let me do yours tooâ you said, giggling as you made her switch places with you in front of the mirror. By the time you and Chaerin joined Chisa, Jurin, and Heeseung, it was almost 8 p.m. The campus looked something straight out of barbie charm school shit, leaving the freshmen and sophomores who hadnât experienced the gala before completely starstruck.
âI canât believe we almost lost this gorgeous ritual because some weirdos gave each other concussions!â Chisa exclaimed, already posing for a selfie as Jurin joined her.
You spotted Sunoo and Jungwon, who immediately dragged you toward the main area. Everywhere you looked it was just gorgeous women with their partners and professors looking dazzling once in a while. Sunoo kept asking you how the field trip joined and as you guys chatted jay ran up to chaerin and kissed her cheeks. Chisa and Jurin elbowed each other silently and you snickered, noticing how red Chaerin had turned. You were so glad she got her happy ending.
A question was stuck inside your throat since evening but you refrained to ask it to others knowing no one couldâve answer that. You knew jake wouldnât be with his friends.He had more important responsibilities as the department representative.
You felt someone poke your shoulder. Turning around you found a very much awestruck Heeseung staring at the food stalls like he had just discovered heaven.
âWe need to try them before they run out,â he said lightly shaking your shoulders. You giggled and followed him. You felt eyes on you when heeseung put his arms around your shoulder. Jobless people probably whispering how greedy you were to go for yet another guy while you were playing jake and sunghoon. But at this moment you were long past the line of giving a fuck. Heeseung and you stopped infront of a cozy stall selling various kinds of tanghulu.
While waiting your phone buzzed suddenly. You turned it on only to find a text from Jake.
Basketball court. Within 5 mins. We need to talk.
Your chest tightened.
âHeeseung I have somewhere to go,â you said quickly shoving the payment into his hand.
âWaitâwhat? At least take a biteââ he held the tanghulu stick up to your lips. You leaned in and took a quick bite, unable to resist his confused expression and the sweet smell from the syrup. Then you ran.
âOuchâsorry!â Someone bumped into Heeseung right after you disappeared from his sight, causing your half eaten tanghulu to fall to the ground.
âOh my God, IâmâIâm so sorry!â the girl panicked. Heeseung shook his head trying to convince that it wasn't even his portion to the poor girl who was panicking at this moment. âno no itâs okayâŠit wasnât even mineââ
But before he could finish speaking the girl asked for an extra tanghulu to the shopkeeper and turned at him âthese new contact lenses Iâm wearing are fucking useless.â
Heeseung blinked unsure how to respond. His eyes drifted across her face and stopped on a fading bruise above her eyebrow. Without thinking, he crouched slightly and touched the spot gently. The girl flinched and stepped back. He immediately pulled his hand away. âShit, Iâm sorry! Did someone hurt you??â
She gave a sheepish smile and shook her head. âNoâŠ.I just do boxing gigs sometimes.â
His eyes widened. âReally? Me too!â
She grabbed the fresh tanghulu and turned back to him, smiling brighter this time.
âOh my, we should totally exchange numbers! Alsoâthis is for you, as an apology for dropping yours.â
She held it out.âoh Iâm Rina by the way! You??â
âCan you ring my phone once? It was just hereâŠâ Jake asked as he pushed through the crowd to Soobin, his hands digging through his pockets again and again. Soobin nodded and pulled out his phone to call jake's number.
Jake exhaled and glanced around. The campus was packed â hallways overflowing, everyone dressed up, almost unrecognizable. It felt suffocating. He just wanted this whole gala to end so he could finally find you and talk. His gaze drifted to a group of girls staring at him with heart eyes. One of them was wearing a baby pink bodycon dress.
His mind wandered. What were you wearing?How did you do your makeup today? Did you use that same glittery glossâŠor something new? Damn itâhe wanted to see you so badly. He came back to reality when Soobin tapped his shoulder âsomeone picked it up and said they found it in the basketball court.â
Shit he mustâve left it there earlier when he went to clear his head.
He really needed to start using his phone more often.
âThanks Soob. Gotta go,â Jake muttered, patting his shoulder before heading towards the court.
Your heels echoed through the decorated hallways, spaces that had looked so plain just days ago, now transformed into something almost unreal. You couldn't help but feel a little anxious, it's been a while since you last saw jake, and everything related to him had turned such a sensitive topic to you. The corridor leading to the basketball court was nearly empty just a few bored guards lingering around. Everyone else was inside main hall, lost in the gala.
As you approached, you noticed the door slightly ajar. Maybe he was already there. You swallowed hard, trying to hydrate your sandpaper equivalent throat and clenched your fist while your steps fastened. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears when you stood in front of the door. The light spilling from inside felt almost like a portal. You closed your eyes.
You had to face him. No running this time. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The court was empty just as you expected. Hoops standing tall, a few basketballs rolling lazily across the floor. Everything was in it's position but something inside you churned uncomfortably.
Infront of you was jake standing still, you recognised his fading blonde and stiff composure. And then your eyes fell Evelyn, the red gown glowed on her tanned skin, her hands were encircled around jake's torso, engulfing him in a hug as she made a direct eyecontact with you. A sickening smile spread on her lips.
Before you could process anything, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips against Jakeâs.
You stumbled back, your heels hitting the floor hard.
âWhat the fuckâ?â Jake shoved her away instantly.
His head turned at you next but you were beyond any headspace to deal with whatever you just witnessed happening in front of your own eyes. You turned back quick and started running.
Ignoring the sound of Jake's footsteps chasing after you.
âEvelyn what are you doing here?â
Jake was both surprised and irritated as he saw her inside the court, his phone in her grip. She adjusted her gown and smiled âoh hi Jake! I was just passing by and heard a phone ringingâŠI recognized your ringtone soâŠâ
Jake didnât waste a second before snatching his phone back. The fact that his unlocked phone had been in her hands irritated him more than he expected. He was ready to leave but Evelyn grabbed his arm.
âJâJake! Can we talk?â
He frowned scanning her expression. âNo. I have to go Iââ
âJake Iâve waited for this moment for so longâŠâ her voice trembled. âI donât care what happened in the pastâI still really like you. No⊠I think I love you.â Her grip tightened around his arm. Jake clenched his jaw clearly irritated âyou canât just 'think' you love someone Evelynâ he said flatly âand I didnât expect you to be this dumbâto not get the hint that I do not feel the same.â
Her lips quivered. âBut⊠I did so much for you!â
âAnd?â Jake replied. âDid I ask you to do any of that shit?â
A flicker of anger crossed her face âreally? You're fucking rejecting me for that rat y/n!?âtheâthe one who made you lose your credit points by replacing the foundation of marin engineering part in your assignment!â
Jakeâs expression changed instantly from confused to something disgusted. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it off his arm harshly.
âIâm sorry? Come again?â he stepped closer. âSay that again.â
Evelyn faltered under his gaze.
âEvelyn Jung,â he continued, voice low, âI think we both know Y/n would never do something like that. And I never told anyone which part of my assignment got replaced.â
A bead of sweat rolled down her neck.âTâthat doesnât prove anything!â she stammered. âWho else would do that to you? Me?! Ha! Thatâs ridiculous!â
Jake scoffed.
âI donât care, Evelyn. But take this as a fair and last warningâdonât ever interfere in my academics or personal life again.â He paused a bit before continuing âand that includes Y/n tooâ
She gasped. Then suddenly hugged him.
âJake, I admit itâI did everything!â she cried. âBut it was out of love! I didnât think it would affect you this muchââJake stiffened, trying to push her away, already annoyed at the thought of her makeup staining his shirt. But then she stopped crying, her gaze shifted past him. Before he could follow her gaze, she rose on her toes.
The sharp scent of some cheap drugstore lipstick hit him as her lips pressed against his.
Jake pushed her away instantly. And then he heard clear sharp sound of heels against the floor. He looked up just in time to see a glimpse of a flowing pink dress disappearing through the door.
He knew that dress very well.
âShit.â
You ran ran and ran, trying to erase everything you had seen in the last fifteen minutes. The bruises on your feet caused by the heels you borrowed from Chisa, dug deeper with every step, but you didnât have the energy to care. Your vision blurred as you rushed past the glowing lights of the gala, past the loud laughing crowd, past the decorated halls and rooms of Decelis. Soon you found yourself in front of the same bleacher where you cried for the first time after jake avoided you like plague.
You collapsed onto the cold seat, hugging yourself tightly against the chilly air. Goosebumps rose on your skin when you slipped the heels off your feet and saw the deep ugly blisters.
Your gaze dropped to your hands. The acrylic nail on your pinky was barely holding on. Your carefully styled hair had turned into something close to a birdâs nest.
Look at you! such a poor state. And here you were thinking youâd finally make a move on Jake.
Ha! Where the hell did you get that kind of audacity from? How could you even think of standing in front of him like this when Evelyn, with her perfect face, perfect bun, perfect red dress on her perfect figure, had been in his arms? âAck! Iâm so patheticâŠâ you sobbed, covering your face and curling into yourself, trying to disappear from this cruel place filled with equally cruel people. Everything hit harder than ever. At the end of the day you were still nobody. Still the unchosen one.
âWahhhâŠm-momâŠâ another wave of sobs broke out of your chest as you looked up at the star claded night sky. Why am I such a crybaby?! You rubbed your eyes harshly, knowing your makeup was long ruined anyway.
âY/n?â
You sprinted up to your feet at the familiar voice.
âIâm sorry Jake! Look awayâI look like a mess!â you cried, backing away as your lips trembled uncontrollably. Jake quickly closed the distance between you.
âGo! Goddammit Jake just go! I donât want you to see me like thisâI donâtffhâ
Your words got muffled as he pulled you into his arms, pressing you firmly against his chest.
âFine,â he whispered softly. âIâll close my eyes. I wonât look at you.â
You let out a frustrated cry, tears spilling all over again, and slowly looked up. He really had his eyes shut tight, as his lips quivered. âBut i won't let you goâ
You stared intensely at his face. It's a shame Jake got tangled up with you, he really was that beautiful how you remembered your classmates describing him since first year. Up close he almost looked unreal. How could he just hold you like this? You were sure your tears bled on his ironed shirt. You were so pissed. âW-why JakeâŠ?â you whispered, forcing yourself to stay steady in his hold. âWhy wonât you just let me goâŠ?â
He shook his head slightly and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
âI canât,â he murmured âand I donât want to let you goâŠâ
"But why?!" You hissed, smacking on his chest lightly as your lips wobbled again "look at me...! I'm the prime example of I became what I once hated...I'm such a mess...and sadie probably got new contents to write about me in the forum..." you let out a sigh then grabbed his jaw making him face you. His eyes were still closed.
âLook at me Jake⊠you might want to reconsider this.â you mumbled as his eyes finally opened. He stared into your tired, red rimmed eyes then looked up at your eyebrows, your sniffling, flushed red nose, your pouty lips, the gloss long gone and your full cheeks. Then slowly one of his hand came up as he wiped a rolling tear gently from your eyes, thumb caressing your cheek.
âYouâre still as beautiful as the night I first saw you⊠behind Jackson hyungâs house.â
Your heart leaped. JacksonâŠ? That senior who had already graduated? Butâbut that was years ago! You didnât even know Jake back then.âŠor did you? He chuckled softly at your stunned expression and planted a loud kiss on your forehead.
âEven that night you looked like a mess, nose all red searching for a damn tissue outside in the cold....you really think I could resent you after you sneezed and your snot fell on my hoodie....I never met a girl so upright disrespectful at the very first meeting....but I guess I felt happy that finally I found someone real among the sea of pretentious people around meâ
Your eyes widened. Oh. OH.
Jake's blonde hair was instantly replaced by a dark brown hair as a very baby faced, thick glasses on nose, awkward looking freshman's face floated in front of you. Everything different except the same darn smile.
That's him! You remembered him! How could you even forget the guy you embarrased yourself in front of, right after attending the first ever college party???
âTâthat was⊠you?â Your voice came out small laced with very much shock, and Jake laughed. For the first time in a while you saw him really laugh. You didn't know what happened but the sorm inside you instantly softened into pitter patter of rain.
âOh my goshâJake! This is so embarrassingââ you whined, bumping your forehead lightly against his chest, arms still trapped at your sides because of how tightly he was holding you. âLeave me alone, Jake! I told you to never show me your face againâyouâre such an asshole.â
Jake squished your cheeks, forcing you to look up despite your attempts to resist. Your breath hitched at the seriousness in his expression.âShut the fuck up and take that back. Right now.â
âI wonât! No matter what happens I wonât!â you protested, shaking your head stubbornly, nearly knocking into his nose. Jake turned you around and pinned you gently against the nearest pillar.
âYou wonât huh?â he raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, he pressed a quick smooch on your lips.âWhaâ?!â you gasped, your legs kicking lightly against his, but that almost did nothing as Jake didnât even budge.
âTake it back.â
You bit your lip and denied profusely again. âNot happening.â
His hand slipped from your jaw to your hair as he gently tugged them. Then he captured your mouth in a slow kiss. You who promised yourself to not give into his dirty as ever tricks felt your knees buckle when his another hand caressed your hips over the thin material of your dress.
âStill noâŠ?â Jake asked softly, his breath uneven as his eyes flickered between your glistening lips and your dazed expression.
âHuh?â you murmured, completely lost and off track. Jake let out a quiet laugh, then pressed his lips on yours again, this time pausing between kisses to whisper against your lips,
âTake it backâŠthat you donât want to see me. Because we know damn well you do.â
And there it was. The hard pill you refused to swallow. You were caught red handed.
âWhat if I said I doâŠâ you whispered glancing down at the frills of your dress before daring to look back up. A soft smile formed on Jakeâs lips.
âthen I'd like to let you know the feeling is mutual.â
You stepped back slightly, overwhelmed. âIâJake right now I'm not really the person you want to associate yourself with...I got this whole image of playing you and Sunghoon and heeseung andâandââ
Jake pulled you back toward him, intertwining your hands.
âDo I look like I give a fuck?â
âBut you did enough to hurt me beforeâŠâ you whispered, your voice breaking again. Jakeâs expression softened instantly. He pulled you into another hugâthis time gentler.
âIâm sorry babyâŠyou shouldâve just left me to drown in that lakeâOuch!â he winced when you elbowed his ribs.
Both of you stayed in that position a while. Then you pulled away. Your eyes fell on his shirt, now stained with tears and snot and your eyes widened âoh my god Iâm so sorry!â you muttered trying to wipe it off. Jake caught your wrists âItâs okay. Letâs get you cleaned up first.â
Walking back to the dorm with Jake beside you felt different.
Your bruised feet still hurt, heels still unforgiving, but it didnât matter as much anymore. A fuzzy warmth spread through your chest as his fingers slipped into yours, intertwining naturally. The night was still young. And so were both of you.
âWanna know how I got my reputation?â
âJake, I will break your face.â
# 13 all that's left behind
Your eyes fluttered open at the familiar sound of your alarm. Yawning, you fumbled around blindly, trying to find your phone and shut it off. But instead, your hand landed on something soft. You yelped while squirming slightly, still half asleep, and failed to notice the arm draped around your waistâ until the warmth of a palm resting against your bare stomach registered. You froze. Slowly, you turned your head and came face to face with Jake.
For a second, you were convinced this was just another one of your ridiculous hallucinations. But when his soft snores grew louder, loud enough to almost make you smack him, you sucked in the scream that threatened to escape.
Jake Sim was cuddling you. Limbs tangled, bodies pressed close. And then everything from last night came rushing back. He walked you back to your dorm. Helped you wash up, ordered food, let chaerin know you were back because you felt sick. And after tucking you in like he always did, you asked him to stay. Barely even conscious, just mumbling in your sleep.
And yet he stayed.
Heat rushed to your face as the realization settled in. This wasnât a dream. This was very, very much real. Carefully, you searched around and finally found your phone. A few messages from Chaerin and the girls lit up your screen, along with a selfie from Heeseung showing off a new friend he had apparently made. But what caught your attention was the flood of notifications from the college forum.
A sense of dread crept into your chest. What now...? You swallowed hard and tapped on it.
What goes down inside the basketball court.
Under the title two videos were attached that looked very much like cctv footages. You clicked on the first one with shaky fingers and gasped as you realized what it was. Evelyn crouched over a laptopâJakeâs laptop to be preciseâtyping something frantically. You skipped to the next video and almost lost it. It was footage from last night, right before you found Evelyn all over Jake. With very clear audio of her and Jake having a fairly civil conversation, until she suddenly decided to act like a freak.
Your heart pounded as you scrolled through the ridiculous amount of comments. People were going batshit crazy under the post.
âI canât believe Iâm witnessing this in real time,â Chaerin almost cried tears of joy as a very defeated and furious looking Evelyn, along with Sadie and her little group of minions, were summoned to the principalâs office, not long after the post becoming viral and everyone began confessing how they had been wronged by them.
The sun was indeed shining, and the birds seemed louder than ever that day.
You had never looked forward to a college day like this before. Life felt a little easier after the college forum was finally shut down and every bad reputation disappeared along with it. Sure, people still talked shit, gossiped, and spread rumors, but it all stayed within their little circles. Not that you cared anymore. Your attention had shifted to something entirely different and that's how to stay composed while Jake behaved like an absolute slut in front of you with is infuriating smirk that never left his face whenever you were around himâugh, he was just as annoying as ever.
But at least he was yours. WellâŠnot in like literal sense, since he hadnât asked you out yet. But he would eventually right?âŠRight??
You cleared your throat softly when he plopped down on an empty chair, right beside you in the library. Even though you and Jake had come to a mutual understanding that whatever was going on between you two was definitely more than just some aftermath of collateral damageâyou still needed time to process everything.
You clicked your tongue when he started kicking your legs lightly under the table, staring at you intently. Was Jake always this clingy? No noâitâs not like you werenât enjoying the attentionâSuddenly he kicked you harder, making you gasp âwhat are you?! A dog???â you hissed, kicking him back with full force. Jake giggled and scooted closer. âYou refusing to look at me is very entertaining, not gonna lie.â
Fucking hell he was still irritating as fuck. You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the paragraph in front of you.
âWhatever, Iâm busy.â
He leaned in, his lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered âRuff, ruff.â
Your cheeks burned bright red. You stood up immediately, gathering your things, trying your best to ignore the stupid smirk you wanted to wipe off his face so badly. The dynamic between you and Jake wasnât something that changed overnight. Or maybe it did just a little. You werenât going to deny that. But it still felt weird. Six months ago, Jake himself felt like a completely different person to you and yet some invisible string kept tugging at your heart.
What was Jake to you, anyway? A lover? Nah that sounded too soon and too clichĂ©. You liked him a lot. But he hadnât really made any move apart from stealing kisses from you every now and then, ignoring your weak protests and pouts.âŠOkay, fine. You were done pretending you didn't liked that at all.
âCâChaerin⊠uhm⊠if I like someone⊠and the feeling is mutual⊠do they automatically become my⊠somethingâŠ?â You stared at her as she flipped through her notes. âNot necessarily,â chaerin replied casually. âPeople date, then they ask each other out, and then if they still like each other, they get into a relationship⊠and then, I guess, they get married.â
So many steps and you were on none of them.
You and Jake werenât dating. Neither of you had asked the other out.
âShould I⊠do itâŠ?â you whispered to yourself, staring at the ceiling only to yelp when Chaerin smacked your head.
âI will bury Jakeâs body five feet underground if you ask him out. Let him do the job.â
You pouted. Jake didnât seem like someone who cared about all that stuff anyway.
âOh, by the way,â Chaerin added, âI heard from Jay that Jakeâs been doing a lot of packing. Are you guys, like, skipping straight to the honeymoon phase or what?â She smirked.
You sat up straight. âA lot of packingâŠ?â He didnât tell you anything about that.
Chaerin noticed your expression, and her smirk slowly faded.
âY/n⊠donât tell me Iâm the first person youâre hearing this from⊠no way.â
As much as you hated to admit itâyou nodded slowly.
âWhy would he be packing near the sem finals unless heâs getting transferredâohâ Chaerin stopped mid sentence, finally noticing the dread on your face. âHe canât possibly be getting transferred right now⊠right?â you asked quietly, not even sure if you were asking her or yourself. Was that why he hadnât asked you out yet? Because he was leaving? Was he really going to go away?
A very much half naked Jake, fresh out of the shower and wearing only sweatpants, eyed you up and down, on his gaming chair before screeching, âWhat are you doing here?!â He hugged himself defensively. You rolled your eyes and threw a pillow at him. âJake Sim, why didnât you tell me you were moving away?â
âMove awaâwhat?âoh.â He paused mid sentence, finally realizing why you were there as you pointed at the big suitcase standing near his desk. He smiled goofily and crossed his arms, his muscles flexing in just the right way, making your throat go dry.
âAww, Y/n, I thought I would surprise youâowh!â he yelped when you threw the Post Malone album from his desk at him this time.
âGo fuck yourself,â you muttered, jumping off the chair, annoyed at how he still managed to look that good while getting on your nerves.
âY/n wait.â Jake closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms. You nearly froze when your hand brushed against his bare chest as out of habit he squished your cheeks and forced you to look up at him. âStop running away dimwit.â You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his heartbeat against yours and whined, âLet me go Jake, since you were planning to ditch me anyway.â He stared at your puckered lips before quickly pressing a smooch to them. You let out a weak scream and started tickling his ribs to break free.
âAhhh! Stopâstop, Y/n fu@@ÂŁ#ÂŁ@ÂŁ!!â Jake dissolved into gibberish, making you laugh as the two of you tumbled onto his bed.
âIâm not leaving you baby,â he breathed out between laughs, making you fluster all over again.âThen why did you pack that big suitcase?â you pouted. He pinched your nose lightly. âIâm visiting my family in Brisbane for a weekâŠâHe sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. âLaylaâs sick, and Mom, Dad, and Riki missed meâŠso I figured Iâd visit them before finals week starts.â
Oh. So that was it. You groaned inwardly, completely embarrassed for overthinking everything. Covering your face, you hid under Jakeâs duvet, making him chuckle.
âDonât talk to me. Iâm embarrassed!â
The day Jake left for Brisbane, you couldnât see him off at the airport because of stupid Professor Min who held everyone back for extra classes. You spent the entire lecture silently praying for that manâs downfall so intensely that Heeseung had to double check you werenât literally emitting smoke from your ears.
âFinally the last week as a sophomore student,â Chisa huffed slamming her fist onto the bundle of notes in front of her. You and Chaerin were slumped against each other, laughing as Jurin tried to mimic Evelynâs expression from the time she was dragged into the principalâs office. Honestly, you werenât even sure what happened to Evelyn and Sadie after that. Not that you cared. Someone from your class did mention that they got suspended, but that was about it.
Right now though, you were waiting for some kind of update from Jake. The last text you received from him was hours ago, right after he landed at Brisbane Airport. He was probably tired, busy with his family. UghâŠit felt so wrong to feel this way. But damn it you missed him more than you thought you would.
âHoly fuck!âevery one of these is limited edition!â
Jake laughed at Rikiâs reaction as the younger boy stared at the set of Hot Wheels he had brought from korea with stars in his. In his arms, Layla, the cream border collie, clung to him, refusing to detach herself from the moment he stepped into his parentsâ house. Now, sitting inside Rikiâs room, Jake was being bombarded with questions about his second year shenanigans, and he couldnât help but laugh as he told him everything that had happened.
Riki whined and smacked Jakeâs arm. âThen why didnât you bring your girlfriend with you?â
Jake wiggled his eyebrows. âGirlfriend? Y/n isnât my girlfriend thoughâŠâ
Then he paused. Right. Y/n wasnât his girlfriendâŠso what the hell was she to him?
Riki looked completely bewildered at his brother's response and shook his head. âGet out. I canât believe youâre my brother.â
You swore you were going absolutely insane. The thought of being nothing to Jake irritated you more the longer you dwelled on it. He texted you occasionally, sending pictures of his neighborhood, Layla, his high schooler brother Riki, and sometimes half baked thirst trap coded selfies that made you question your sanity. He wanted you dead. That had to be the only explanation.
Fine. You were done pondering. If Jake wasnât going to ask you out, you were going to do it yourselfâno matter how much Chaerin cursed you or preached about how guys were supposed to make the first move. You were done pretending you didnât want Jake Sim all to yourself.
Jake pondered, laying on his bed in his childhood room, staring at the ceiling. The bed felt a bit cramped now as it's been years since he grew out of his teenage body. The Spider Man posters around his room along with his medals and trophies that were displayed on the wall from his school days made him feel oddly nostalgic â but right now, he couldnât care less.
Why hadnât he asked you out yet? He was so fucking stupid. God knew what you were thinking right now. All week, heâd kept himself busy spending time with his family, sending you occasional updates. You sent him pictures back too, Sunghoon and Jay bickering as always, brunch outings with the girls, even a sticker of Professor Min with horns drawn on his head that made him laugh.
God, he couldnât wait to go back and hold you again.
âYouâre acting weird,â Riki whispered, catching Jake mid thought as he imagined your face. Jake laughed. âHow?â
Riki made a face and shrugged âI donât knowâŠI have this classmate named Rei who does this exact thing when I look at herâI mean, sheâs cuter than you, but still, hyungâŠ.stop.â
Jake was finally coming back today, and you made sure no lecture and no professor min could stop you from picking him up at the airport. You and Sunghoon arrived right on time, and as your stupid heart did its usual stupid thing at the thought of seeing Jake again after so long, you couldnât help but bounce a little when you spotted him walking toward you with his suitcase and that big smile. But then you noticed his hair and paused.
His blonde was gone, replaced by a soft shade of brown that made him look exactly like the same guy youâd bumped into years ago and gifted your snot to on your very first meetingâ
Author can we stop bringing that up?
He ran straight to Sunghoon and pulled him into a warm hug. âAhem.â Sunghoon cleared his throat and stepped aside, sensing the very obvious tension between you and Jake as your eyes met with his. It took only a second before Jake lunged toward you with his arms wide open, and you squealed, jumping straight into them.
Sunghoon chuckled to himself recalling how you were ranting in the cab just few minutes ago about the concept of pda being so cringe.
After helping Jake unpack his luggage in his room, Sunghoon headed out to grab ramen from the same place the three of you had eaten at a month ago. Before leaving, he made sure to ask Jake if he was still in his 'I donât like katsu' phase. Thankfully, this time Jake had no excuse to keep up the act.
The moment Sunghoon disappeared from your sight, you turned to Jake. He had an equally endearing expression playing on his face as both of you were soon on his bed, kissing each other and giggling. Jake's hands lovingly caressed your back as he pulled away between your very needy kisses.
"Y/n, I need to tell you something right now."
You whined, too dazed in euphoria to even comprehend Jake's words, and leaned in to chase his lips again, but Jake grabbed your jaw firmly, keeping you in place.
"Y/n Y/l/n."
You paused after hearing your government name from his mouth for the first time and noticed how serious he looked. Your stomach flipped as you looked into his eyes. Jake took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
"I'm ready to share all the manga links I have from illegal websites with you..."
You chuckled. "Uh huh? That was it?â"
He pressed his index finger to your lips, shutting you up oh so gently. "I am also ready to give you the drive link of all the pirated movies I have downloaded..." You nodded with a smile, staring at a very flustered and adorable Jake, taking in the sight because you knew he was serious with everything he said when he had that look on his face.
"I am uhh...right now I donât have anything else to offer, but in the future I will for sure. For the time being, I just wanted to ask..."
"Uh huh?"
"Shut up, you make me nervous," he whined, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as your body shook with laughter. He looked up again, his serious face softly morphing into something genuine. "Y/n, will...will you uhh...can we visit my parents the next timeâno, that's not what I meant to say!â"
Jake started groaning again, but this time you cupped his cheeks and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Yes, I would...but before that, would you go out with me, Jake?"
Jake shrieked. "That was my line! Oh my god, that's it. I'm ending it all! Fuckkkkk."
You cackled at his reaction as he kicked his legs. A very visible pout formed on his lips making you almost melt into a puddle.
"Whyâwhy would youâ"Jake genuinely felt like jumping out the window. Fuck his stupid body and mind for becoming absolutely uncooperative when it came to you. He bit the inside of his cheek and pulled you impossibly closer. "If I say no, then what?"
You raised your eyebrows. "Say it, I dare you."
That stupid smug look was back on Jake's lips as he wiggled his shoulders. "No Y/n, I will absolutely not go out with yâ"
You climbed on top of Jake without any warning and kissed him hard. His words died in his mouth the moment your tongue licked his lower lip, eliciting a low grunt. Holy shit. Even after fighting for dominance, Jake couldnât keep up. His hands helplessly grabbed your hips, trying to ground you from doing anything that would make Jake the junior awakeâthough he wasn't sure if that wasn't already happening from the way you were almost devouring him.
"Fuck..." you almost moaned, pulling back and discovering Jake's stunned expression, lost in an entirely different dimension from the wild ride he had just hopped on. "Still no?" You mumbled against his lips, too shy to look into his eyes, and Jake let out a laugh mixed with a whine. "Allat for just saying no...I wonder what will happen if I say yes..."
He sat up a little, lips planting small kisses along your jaw, and panted, "I don't have any health insurance done here Y/n."
You giggled, smacking his chest, and chased his lips again.
Suddenly the door flew open as a very petrified looking Sunghoon screamed making you and Jake almost fall off the bed.
"You horny fuckers couldn't even wait! UGHHHH MY POOR EYES!"
Long story short, Jake did end up saying yes to you â because what else could he have done? You had become more than just a habit in his life, and he was very much against the idea of letting you slip away now.
Finals came and went like a whirlwind of chaos, but this time, unlike before, you had Jake beside you while studying. He helped you with your subjects as much as he could, and you realized his knowledge went far beyond just textbooks. It was a shame that the curtain of ignorance, built in the name of his bad reputation had kept you from seeing how ridiculous that whole concept truly was.
Decelis forum was back up again, but this time with certain limitations and consequences. And no, Sadie wasnât part of the pr team anymoreâin fact, she wasnât in any clubs at all. There was a new girl named Rina. Heeseung had introduced you to the sweet junior just a few days ago.
At the end of the day, you couldnât really care less about people spreading rumors about you, or Jake, or anyone in your group. Not when you had Jake beside you. And that mattered far more than holding onto any stupid reputation.
THE END. ©sunishake
tags: @juwonsicle @fentyluxury @sa1ky @jakey1115 @imsojuliaaaaaa @seungminslover33 @prkhoonlvr @choke-on-flowerz @citymare @heeseungrizz @simpikeu @enhajungwonheart @swaggniks @naraemin @xeiramz @iadoremiles @redrosesarerosie @ot7archives @chanchamm @zenhypen @simj4k3 @notforallbs @veemegatron @savahnaaa @sunghoon-my-dear @haloomicheese @not--christ
Good fic = good life
Thank you author, this fic is really made my day. Definitely will reread it.
all that glitters â part one.
pairing: park jongseong x f reader
genre: academic rivals to lovers, rich jay au, university au, angst, slow burn
part one word count: 19.6k
warnings: angst, depictions of terminal illness, scenes that occur in hospitals, use of the american (usa) health system (aka receiving medical care is expensive), swearing, slowwwww burn
playlist: this is me trying / cardigan / mirrorball- taylor swift / yellow - coldplay / BIRDS OF A FEATHER - billie eilish / safety net - ariana grande / garden (say it like dat) - sza
note: Well it looks like two part fics are just my thing now so I hope thatâs alright with youuuuu. This one is a rollercoaster of angst but also hopemaxxing and optimismmaxxing and yes, eventually lovemaxxing so I hope you enjoy!! Do note the tags for triggers, but donât let the angst scare you Iâm too much of a baby to write anything with a sad ending. Also, younger uni track star Jungwon is still in the works and in the drafts I just needed a quick change of pace after writing so much for him lately. And finally, FIRST STLLMNSTR JAY FIC!!!! EVERYBODY CHEEREDDDDDD
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
Park Jongseong is everything you hate. Spoiled, entitled, and the heir to a top conglomerate in the business world youâve been fighting tooth and nail to break into. You canât even begin to count how many sleepless nights, skipped meals, and personal desires youâve sacrificed just for a seat at the table he was born sitting at.
But when a piece of news in your third year of university pulls your world out from under your feet, everything starts to change. Including your feelings towards the one person you thought youâd always loathe.
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
The back of Park Jongseongâs head is almost as annoying as the rest of him.Â
Haloed in a well-kept array of perfectly styled dark hair, it currently blocks your view of the last slide in todayâs lecture. Eyes tracing the perfectly mussed strands, you canât help but roll your eyes.Â
Itâs an illusion of a carefree nature you know Park Jonseong certainly does not possess. Every strand of hair, down to the very last follicle is exactly where he wants it to be, no matter how hard he tries to pretend like it was nothing but a few strokes of his fingers and the grace of the light afternoon breeze.Â
You scoff. As if that control freak would leave anything up to the whims of nature. Youâve seen his planner, even if only in passing. And by accident, of course.Â
Filled to the brim with reminders and deadlines and memos, all etched in his infuriatingly neat handwriting, you doubt heâs ever left anything up to chance.
Youâd admire the incessant diligence if it came from anyone else. Or at least, youâd respect it. But with Jongseong, or Jay as he insists on being called, you can only resent it.Â
Every minute he dedicates to his own meticulousness is only another hour you have to spend studying. Writing. Editing. Practicing. Perfecting your own work and hoping the final result looks half as effortless as his.Â
Effortless. That word tastes more bitter on your tongue than it has any right to. But itâs hard not to resent someone that was handed everything on a silver platter and loves to dangle it just out of your reach.Â
Park Jongseong. Heâs the only son and surefire heir to the conglomerate his father has been grooming him to run since he could check boxes on a spreadsheet. Part of you wonders if his enrollment in university is just for show. Surely thereâs nothing he could learn from a bachelorâs in business that he didnât learn on his fatherâs lap at the age of ten. That only makes you even angier.Â
Mentally, you begin to sift through the dayâs to-do list.Â
Finish econ homework. Assign roles for your insurance law midterm project. Email your marketing professor for a finalized version of the midterm schedule. Send it to your manager at the cafe so he doesnât schedule any overlapping shifts. Call your mom. Text Sunoo back. Make sure this monthâs stipend didnât get blocked during transfer again. Ask Kaia if she got an update from the landlord about next yearâs rent increase.Â
The longer the list extends, the more the words start to swim in your mind. The sound of your professorâs voice begins to lose its sharpness. It fades to a lulling wave before it disappears entirely, replaced by a sudden ringing in your ears.Â
Your vision starts to swim, too. Blinking, you try to clear the black spots that suddenly halo Jayâs head. Quickly, the effort begins to strain. Screwing your eyes shut, you lower your head, hoping it will ease the sudden nausea beginning to rise from the pit of your stomach.Â
Your skin feels hot. Too hot. Sweat beads at your temple as you fight the urge to be sick.Â
Not on the laptop, you pray. Even through the haze in your mind, youâre well aware of just how many notes and assignments you would lose if your laptop died. Never mind the fact that you wouldnât be able to afford a replacement for at least five months, and even that leaves no room for error in your finances or emergency spending.Â
Palm supporting the weight of your clammy forehead, the ringing in your ears sharpens to something piercing. You can feel your consciousness slipping, thoughts fading as soon as they come.Â
The urge to be sick is still there, but itâs distant now, fading into some corner of your mind that you canât quite access.Â
Iâm not going to puke, you realize. But I am about to pass out.
Forcing breath in through your nose, you feel your heartbeat pounding in your throat. It echoes between your ears as you do your best to hold onto your last threads of coherence.Â
You think you hear your name, maybe, somewhere in the distance. Grinding your teeth, you do your best to focus on it. Reach out like itâs a lifeline pulling you through the waves.Â
You hear it again, louder this time. Youâre closer. The nausea has faded now, more of a mild discomfort than an imminent threat. The vertigo that sent your mind swooping is calming to a gentle rock.Â
Hesitantly, you try opening your eyes, just barely. The bottom of your keyboard looks back at you, blurry through your eyelashes.Â
Again, you hear the sound of your name. Only this time, itâs clear enough to realize that itâs not a figment of your imagination.Â
Too quickly, you lift your head, opening your eyes fully. Doing your best not to wince at the sudden movement, you suppress the sudden chill that traces your spine in a shiver.Â
Sat halfway up the bowl of the lecture hall, you meet your professorâs eyes. Your face, previously clammy, suddenly feels impossibly warm as you realize nearly everyone in the lecture hall has their eyes locked on you too.Â
Their expressions are a mix of concern and confusion. You canât decide which one is worse.Â
Pointedly, you avoid the weight of the stare coming from directly in front of you. The last thing you want to know is how Park Jongseong is looking at you right now. Because he is.Â
You can feel it, the heaviness of his lingering gaze. What expression does he have? Is he confused like the rest of them? Or maybe his eyes are full of nothing but contempt, a sick sense of vindication at your humiliation.Â
You did just barely edge him out of the top score on last weekâs econ quiz, after all. Maybe heâs been praying for a moment like this. Karmic justice for taking what he must be sure is rightfully his.Â
Or, worst of all, his eyes could be shrouded in sympathy. Worry. A reminder that no matter how many sleepless nights you spend studying and extra shifts you pick up just to afford the used versions of the pristine, brand new textbooks he arranges on his bookshelf, you will always be nothing to him.Â
Not a threat, even if your GPA rivals his. Not competition, even though the two of you are always fighting for the last word in class discussions.Â
Youâre just another student. A girl whose place in the lecture hall behind him is funded by scholarships heâs never had to think twice about. A business major who studies the field and knows that ultimately, connections are the only thing that make your name worth anything in this cutthroat industry.Â
It doesnât matter how many networking functions you attend, how many professors you build relationships with, and how much of your own blood, sweat, and tears you pour into this.Â
The blazer you found on clearance with loose threads and a stubborn wrinkle that your old iron can never seem to entirely erase will never turn heads the way his limited edition, perfectly pressed designer brand suits do.Â
The name your parents gave you, will love and consideration and pride, will never hold the same weight, the same value, as Park Jongseong.Â
âIââ you try, but your voice comes out dry, scratched raw. Forcing down a reluctant swallow and hoping your humiliation goes down with it, you try again. âIâm sorry, I didnât hear the question. Could you repeat it?â
Your professor hesitates for a moment, frowning. Eventually, she says, âThatâs alright. Weâre just about out of time actually.âÂ
You glance at the clock. Class isnât scheduled to finish for another eight minutes. And Professor Jung never ends early. Ever.Â
Addressing the entire hall now, she adds, âDonât forget that this semester, weâll be doing an exam and a project for your midterm. Again, my recommendation is that you find someone to partner with for the project. Itâs extensive, and I designed it intending for the work to be split between two people. I wonât stop you if you choose to work alone, but the deadline will come sooner than you think. Finalize your plans and topic now, and send me an email or come see me at office hours if you have any questions. Iâll see you all next time.âÂ
With her reminders, students begin to shift, gathering their things as a few glance around in disbelief at the early dismissal. Thankfully, the gesture has eased most of the attention off of you.Â
But before you can slide your laptop into your bag, her voice cuts through the hall once again. âAnd, ____?â Startled by the sound of your name, you look up to find her eyes already on you. Her expression is unreadable. âStay after class for just a minute.â
Shit.    Â
Nodding, you bend to grab your bag. As soon as you stand from your chair, you feel it again. That same pair of eyes.Â
This time, he catches you off guard. You donât have enough of a warning to avoid the gaze you suddenly meet.Â
Over his shoulder, Jay isnât looking at you with disgust or contempt or even vindication. Heâs just⊠looking. The same way youâve seen him fine comb a spreadsheet or double check a report when the numbers donât quite add up.Â
Like heâs searching for something. Trying to figure something out.Â
Your eyes widen slightly before you turn your head, breaking eye contact.Â
When Park Jongseong looks at you, the only thing you want to see is the mild annoyance he has whenever you beat him to a correct answer. The strained frustration whenever you edge him out of setting the exam curve.Â
Not his scrutiny, his searching assessment like youâre someone worth a second glance. No matter how much you resent him for largely treating you like a pesky fly, itâs what youâve come to recognize as the status quo. Itâs comfortable. Safe.Â
Him giving you any sort of actual attention is very much not.Â
Pulling your bag over your shoulder with a bit more force than necessary, youâre pleasantly surprised to find your legs quite stable beneath you, even if that shaky, jello-like feeling lingers slightly.Â
Approaching Professor Jungâs podium with trepidation, you do your best not to fidget. She busies herself shutting down the projector and gathering her notes as the rest of the students file out of the hall. Â
After a handful of moments, she closes her laptop and looks up at you. Her eyes shift over your shoulder, somewhere near the door.Â
âIs there something you need, Jay?â she asks.Â
Immediately, a surge of unease pulls at your stomach. The last thing you need is for him to bear witness to this conversation.Â
âIâŠâ you hear behind you, hesitant in a way he almost never is. âNo, Iâm sorry. Iâll ask you next time, Professor.â
You watch as she nods towards him. âYou can always send an email, too, if itâs urgent.â
âRight.â His voice is smooth. Sliding around your shoulders and settling in the air. âThank you, Professor.â
She nods again, a final dismissal. âTake care, Jay.â
You canât bring yourself to look. Instead, you wait for the soft thud of the door closing behind him.Â
Your professor waits, too. She parts her lips to speak, but the words are spilling from you before she can.Â
âIâm so sorry, Professor,â you plead. Participation isnât weighted particularly heavily, according to the syllabus she handed out at the beginning of the semester, but you need all the points you can get. âI promise it wonât happen again. And I really was paying attention, I just had this weird headache all of a sudden, andââ
âWoah,â she reaches out a hand. âSlow down.â Confusion creases her brow at your reaction. âI didnât ask you to stay to chastise you.â
âOh,â you breathe. Relief is short lived as confusion begins to take its place. âIâm sorry, Iââ
âDonât apologize.â She shakes her head. âIâm sorry that I gave that impression.â She sighs. Silence stretches for a moment before she continues, âLook, ___, youâre one of my top performing students. Maybe the top performing student.â
For a second, you almost wish Jay had stuck around, just to hear that.Â
âIâm not concerned about your academic abilities or your focus in class,â she continues. âI am, however, starting to become a bit concerned about you.âÂ
âMe?â you echo.Â
Nearly halfway through the semester, Professor Jung has solidified herself as one of your favorites. Sheâs in her mid-forties, demanding but receptive, and an absolute genius in the accounting world.Â
Sheâs pushed you to see numbers, data, in a new way. To stop looking at them as some cold, detached thing and start looking for the implications. To consider how salaries and bonuses and business expenses affect not only a companyâs bottom line, but also the employees that make it possible.Â
Numbers, she always says, are a reflection. They tell you about customer satisfaction, employee well-being. Factors that matter if you care about longevity. Continued success. Ethics and morality. Conversations that are all too often missing or pushed to the side in this industry.Â
Youâve been hoping that come finals, sheâll be willing to write you a recommendation letter. Maybe even ask you to TA for one of her lower level classes if your schedule allows.Â
In short, you value her opinion. Not just as someone with significant authority over your GPA, but as someone with experience who seems to share your values. In the business world, itâs as rare as striking gold.Â
Now, she stands across from you with concern etched across her features. âYouâve been quieter in class,â she says. âAnd today isnât the first time Iâve seen you like that.â She nods towards your earlier seat. âHand on your head like youâre in pain.â
âOh,â you exhale, not sure what to do with her worry. You never imagined she, or anyone for that matter, would notice. You shake your head, prepared to brush her off, âIâm fineââ
She wonât let it go so easily. âAre you sleeping?â
âWhat?â you flounder for a moment. âI mean, itâs almost midterms, so Iâve been doing some extra studying, butââ
âSo you havenât,â she concludes, disapproval in her eyes.Â
âI have,â you insist. âJust less.â The concern in her gaze doesnât ease. âA little less,â you amend.Â
âAre you eating?â
âYes,â you nod. Extra hours in the library and the pressure of a potential rent increase might mean your meals are a bit less regular these days, but she doesnât need to know that. âI even get free things from the case at the cafe during shifts, soââ
âYouâre working?â Another flicker of concern crosses her face.Â
Shit.Â
âOh, IâŠâ you trail off, unsure what to do with the sudden interrogation. âI mean, yeah. But only part time.â
âYouâre taking nearly double the recommended course load and youâre working. No wonder youâre nearly fainting in the lecture hall.â
Swallowing your pride, you admit, âIâm trying to graduate early. My scholarship depends on my class rank, and Iââ you bite at the inside of your bottom lip. Your throat suddenly feels full, words getting stuck on the way out. âI canâtââ
âI know what itâs like,â she says, voice gentle. âBelieve me, I do.â She pauses for a moment, weighing her words. âYouâre brilliant, truly. One of the most impressive students Iâve had in my classroom in a long time. And you have grit, talent, perseverance. A commendable work ethic. You have what it takes to make it in this industry. But you need to take care of yourself, too.â
Itâs humiliating, the way a tear catches in the corner of your eye. It spills, despite your stubbornness. You feel small, helpless as it tracks a hot, wet streak down the curve of your cheek.Â
Professor Jungâs voice softens even further. âIs there someone nearby that can help? A family member? A friend?â
Youâre biting the inside of your lip so hard youâre worried you might draw blood. Another tear escapes as you shake your head in a miniscule movement.Â
Friends have long since fallen off your list of priorities. The few relationships you formed during freshman year have long since fizzled after you left one too many texts without a response and canceled on one too many plans. Kaia is the closest thing you have now, but your schedules are nearly opposite each other and as a nursing student, sheâs nearly as busy as you. Even after two years of living together, you still call her your roommate. Not your friend.Â
Your family is far away. Back in your hometown, the distance between them and the city your university campus sits on feels like an uncrossable ravine. Besides, they have their own worries to take care of. Namely, the restaurant thatâs been in your family for generations. An enterprise that has cost your family more than itâs earned them for the last decade.Â
Your father, mother, and younger brother all work multiple jobs to make ends meet. It would be nothing short of selfish to ask them for help now.Â
âOkay,â your professor nods. The sympathy in her eyes is almost unbearable. âThen Iâm going to request that you go visit the university clinic. Iâll call now and make you an appointment for this afternoon.â
âNo,â you shake your head. âI mean, really, Iâm fineââ
Professor Jung is firm. âTheir services are free for students. Itâs a university resource. Your tuition funds it.â
âI work this afternoon,â you protest.
âWhat time?â
âThree thirty.â
Sheâs already pulling out her phone. âIâll see whatâs available before then.âÂ
âReally,â you try to stop her, âIâm fine. Iâll eat a good meal tonight and make sure I go to bed earlyââ
âFrequent headaches and dizziness can be a cause for concern.â
âIâm sure if I just rest, thenââ
âBut you wonât rest.â Her gaze is heavy, something almost protective in it. âI know how it is. You tell yourself you just need to push through until midterms. But then there are events and presentations and research conferences. And then there are finals and youâre doing the same thing over again. It doesnât end with graduation. This line of work rewards people who never sleep, who never rest, who never take a breath. Your competition is always trying to get one step ahead of you, to edge you out. You wear yourself to the bone until you make enough money to pay someone else to do it for you.â
Your breath catches in your throat. You feel that familiar sting at the edge of your eyes again. The urge to cry, but this time for an entirely different reason.Â
âI believe in you,â she says. âI know you have big dreams, and I believe in those, too. So take an hour out of your afternoon and go visit the university clinic. Do it once and the next time youâre feeling unwell, it will be a little easier. Find ways to take care of you, too.â
The hesitation must still be apparent on your face, because she adds, âIâm more than happy to resort to threats if I must. Iâll make the midterm project a mandatory partner assignment.â
Your gaze wavers. âYou wouldnât.â
She just nods. âAnd Iâll assign partners. Why not pair up the two best students in class? Iâm sure if the two of you put your heads together, you could come up with something truly commendable.â
The two top students. That would mean you andâÂ
No.Â
âThis doesnât feel aligned to the Business School code of ethics,â you point out.
âThen go to the clinic,â she instructs, a note of finality in her voice. âAnd youâll never have to find out just how terribly malleable that handbook is.â
You clench your jaw for a moment, looking for a loophole, a way out. And then, finallyâ
âFine,â you acquiesce.Â
âGood,â she nods. âI know the director at the university health center. I messaged him before the end of class. Go now. Theyâre waiting for you. Theyâll see you right when you arrive.â
âYou alreadyâŠâ your jaw drops slightly. âBut what if Iââ
âJust go,â she urges, nodding towards the door. âThe sooner you go, the sooner you can get back to running yourself into the ground studying.â
Thereâs more you want to say, to argue, but sheâs right. The quicker they diagnose you with stress induced headaches and fatigue and recommend resting more, the sooner you can get back to doing the opposite.Â
Nodding, you make your way towards the door. Fingers around the handle, her earlier words echo through your mind.Â
I believe in you. Itâs been a long time since anyone told you that.
Turning back, you meet her gaze one more time, trying to swallow the emotions that threaten to rise. âThank you.â
Professor Jung nods once, an expression you canât quite read in her eyes. âIâll see you next week, ___.â Â
Halfway between the lecture hall and the health center, your phone dings with an incoming notification.  Â
You smile as the image spreads across your screen. Sunoo poses next to one of the cutest dogs youâve ever seen, both of them tilting their heads at the exact same angle.Â
A surge of fondness is quickly followed by a pang of loneliness. Youâd give anything to see your little brother in person right now. To see that smile in person and wrap him in the biggest hug as he laughs in your ear.Â
Looking at the picture a moment longer, you send a quick response before tucking your phone back into your pocket.Â
Sunoo. Your brother is only one year your junior, but the protectiveness you feel towards him makes the gap feel bigger.Â
He hates it, the way you coddle him. But after a life-threatening tumor nearly took his life when the two of you were in elementary school, youâve felt more like a guardian than an older sister.Â
Itâs hard to remember how things were when you were just a kid. Your memories are hazy around the edges, and the passage of time has only dulled them further.Â
There was never a time when your family was wealthy, but things were different back then. Your mother smiled more. Her back didnât ache yet. She came home from long days of taking telephone orders and covering waitress shifts at your familyâs restaurant with a smile on her face and enough energy to chase you and Sunoo around the neighborhood playground for hours.Â
Your father came home later, usually. After all the cleaning was done and the restaurant was prepped for the next day. After the books were balanced and the cash register was double checked. But he laughed when he saw the two of you. Entertained your requests for endless rounds of hide-and-seek no matter how exhausted he was.Â
Sunoo was always a sweet kid. The kind of shy that people gravitated towards. He was gentle, thoughtful, good. His teachers sang his praises and his friendsâ parents were always happy to have him over.Â
You were a bit rougher around the edges. Not mean or misbehaved, but something in you was always trying to run, to take, to push, even when everyone around you was resting. You had a fierce competitive streak and a hard time losing at anything, especially at school.Â
You wanted to be the best at math, at science, at language arts. You wanted to run faster than all of the boys who treated the playground like their domain and draw better than all of the girls who spent every second of free time at the arts and crafts table.Â
You wanted to do everything. Be everything. An astronaut. A scientist. A famous singer. A doctor. A lawyer. The president. Your dreams, your hopes, your goals for the future were always shifting, never standing still.Â
And then, on a rather ordinary Thursday afternoon when you were in the fifth grade, your world fell apart.Â
You rode the bus home alone that day. Sunoo hadnât gone to school. Complaining of a stomachache and his head hurting in the morning, your mother took a day away from the restaurant to stay home with him.Â
When you finally arrived at your stop, the elderly woman who lived next door was waiting for you there. You still remember it now, the awful, aching look of sympathy in her eyes as she greeted you. Called you sweetheart and told you that your family wasnât home right now. That they had asked her to bring you to them.Â
You remember the confusion, the anxiety as she pulled her small car into the hospital parking lot. The terrible ache in your heart, the panic in your chest as you met the tearful, desperate gazes of your parents. The crushing weight of their arms around you as they pulled you into a crushing embrace.Â
The utter agony of looking at your baby brother unconscious on a hospital bed, skin pale. So pale. Too pale.Â
A tumor, the doctor called it. You were too young to know what he meant, but you understood the weight of it. The implications. The sickening feeling in your gut as you heard him tell your parents to prepare for the worst. That he likely had no more than three months left to live.Â
The clang of your motherâs knees hitting the hospital floor still rings in your ears sometimes. The desperate, hushed tones of your fatherâs whispers as he pleaded with the doctor, begging him to save his sonâs life.Â
The next year was the worst of your life.Â
Week after week, treatment after treatment, doctor after doctor, and your brother only got worse. Sicker, paler, weaker.Â
It was a rare gene mutation that caused the tumor, the doctor explained to your family one afternoon. His voice was strange as he tried to juggle the appropriate amounts of professional detachment and sympathy all at once. And it was likely the same mutation making it so resistant to treatment.
The hospital was doing everything in their power, but they thought his chances might be better if he went to a larger hospital, one with more resources, with dedicated departments and doctors who specialized in this kind of treatment.Â
Sunoo was moved to a different hospital less than a week later. Your parents took turns staying with him while the other kept the restaurant running. It killed them not to be at his side, you know, but the longer treatment took, the more bills began to stack up.Â
There was a silver lining within it all, though. The three month estimate that the doctors gave came and went. And still, Sunoo was alive. Even if only barely.
Your community was supportive beyond words. Donation drives were set up, meal trains funded by strangers youâd never seen before. Your family's restaurant had more visitors than it had seen in decades. But even with their generosity, it wasnât enough.Â
When the revenue ran dry, keeping Sunoo alive was funded by your parentâs meager savings. And when that evaporated, they turned to loans.Â
You watched as they worked themselves to the bone. Trying to keep their sick son alive and their only source of income afloat.Â
Your parents wanted your life to remain as normal as possible. You still went to school, still lived at home, still rode the same bus.Â
The same elderly woman who brought you to the hospital that day was the one who made your meals most nights. Who made sure you were taken care of and got to bed at a reasonable time. She even came to your parent-teacher conference. Knitted you a new sweater and a pair of mittens when autumn turned to winter.Â
But no matter how much normalcy they wished for, your life was a shadow of its former self. School was different. Teachers treated you like broken glass. The high expectations they once had were whittled away into nothing in the name of sympathy.Â
The friends in your class did their best to be kind, and the easygoing friendships youâd built before were lost somewhere in the rubble of their pity.
You had never felt more alone in your life.Â
You only got to visit your brother on the weekends. You remember the way you would sit at his bedside for hours, telling him stories, tidbits from school, random thoughts no one else had the time or ability to listen to. He was unconscious for most of it, but you told him everything anyway.Â
And when the weight of your grief was too heavy, when your throat was aching and sore from all the talking, youâd fall asleep like that, curled awkwardly over the edge of the hospital bed, his limp hand gripped tight between your fingers.
In the midst of it all, somewhere in the tangle of agony and grief and loneliness, you lost your dreams.Â
You didnât care about being the fastest runner on the playground anymore. You spent most recesses in the school counselorâs office now, anyway. Whenever you tried to draw, your hands werenât sure what to do. It was as if theyâd lost their spark, their creativity.Â
It didnât matter if someone else was better than you at times tables or if another classmateâs essay won first place.
You didnât want to be an astronaut anymore. Space suddenly felt so far away and so terribly cold. You didnât want to be a singer or a lawyer or a scientist, and youâd had enough of doctors to last a lifetime.Â
The only thing you wanted was for your brother to get better. For him to come home so the two of you could ride the bus together again. For your mom to smile like she used to. For your dad to take the two of you berry picking on a sunny day again.
When spring finally bloomed, so did the first glimmers of hope. Sunoo was responding to his latest treatment. Much better and quicker than before.Â
He was actually awake now when you would visit him. He laughed at your stories, even if it did usually end in a coughing fit that made your mother sick with worry. He would respond to you, ask you to tell him more.Â
One weekend, just as the daffodils around your school began to grow, he was even sitting upright when you walked into his hospital room. The next time, you brought him one, and he smiled when the nurse helped find a vase to keep it in the windowsill.Â
Slowly but surely, color started to return to his cheeks. Life started to take root in his body again.Â
The day after you finished the fifth grade, he stood up from his hospital bed, with his hand on the table for support. You hugged him so tight that your parents nearly had to pry you off of him when his heart monitor started to jump.
At the agonizing pace of a snail, things got better. Day by day, he got stronger. Healthier. Until eventually, finally, he was given a clean bill of health.Â
It wasnât the same as before. A year in the hospital had taken its toll. Your brother was still fragile, still needed the extra support that everyone around him was more than ready to bend over backwards to give. Â
By the time summer came, Sunoo was back home. His weekly hospital visits became monthly, then quarterly, and eventually biannual. When autumn arrived, he was back in school.Â
Even after a year in hell, life started to become normal again. But some things had changed fundamentally.Â
Your family, once financially sound, had begun to struggle immensely with money. Irregular operations at the restaurant made profits plummet to nearly irreparable levels. Beyond that, every penny your parents had saved was gone.Â
The hospital bills had submerged them in immense debt. Put simply, your family had no money anymore and nothing but a now failing restaurant to try and dig yourselves out of a hole that felt more like an abyss.Â
And you, once fueled by visions of grandeur, dreams that stretched beyond your wildest imagination, lost every desire to become something amazing. It just simply didnât matter to you anymore. The only thing you wanted to be was Sunooâs older sister. Someone that could help him and take care of him and stay by his side no matter what.Â
You still had drive, still had this fire deep that burned deep within you, but now it was fueled by something else.Â
At eleven, it meant helping Sunoo with homework and threatening the boys that teased him on the playground until they cried.Â
At sixteen, it meant canceling last minute on your date to the junior prom to take Sunoo to the movie heâd been wanting to see in theaters.Â
And when Sunoo, much to your parentâs dismay, decided that he wanted to take over the family business and inherit the restaurant they had never quite managed to make profitable again, you decided to shoulder that burden, too.   Â
Your brother loved to cook, loved to use food as a means of connecting with other people. He treated food like a remedy, like a gift. He used a warm meal to comfort people in despair and baked cookies whenever he wanted to show his appreciation. For him, he could think of no better way to spend his days than making, preparing, and serving food to all kinds of people.Â
You had no talent in the kitchen, but it didnât matter. Sunoo was the chef, not you. In your senior year of high school, you realized that what your familyâs restaurant, what Sunoo, needed was someone who could handle the business side of things. Someone who could look at impossible numbers and make them work in their favor. Someone who could breathe life into a failing business and turn it into the bustling diner of your brotherâs dreams.Â
You needed a business degree. And not just a degree, but an education. One from a top university where your professors could give you the tools you needed to make Sunooâs dreams a reality. Of course, that was never going to come without a hefty price tag.Â
So you made a plan. You were smart. Academically gifted. You already had impressive college entrance exam scores on your side, but you needed more. While your classmates enjoyed their last months of time together, you worked. Day in, day out applying for scholarships, internships, fellowships. Writing essays, email professors, scouring the internet for every bit of information you could find on business schools.Â
You could count on one hand the average number of hours you slept each night senior year. But in the end, it was worth it. You graduated high school with an offer into the most prestigious business school on this side of the country and the scholarship to fully fund it as long as you maintained a high enough GPA and class ranking.Â
On top of that, you were even granted a modest living stipend. One to help cover the rent, textbooks, and grocery expenses you could never bring yourself to ask your parents to help cover.Â
It wasnât much, but it was enough. It was enough.Â
It didnât matter that your dreams fell by the wayside all those years ago. It didnât matter that before all of this, you had no interest in business.Â
Your brother, your miracle of a brother, had been given a second chance at life. And now, you had the opportunity to help him achieve his only dream.Â
Walking across your university campus now, you almost decide to just ditch the health center. You have work to do. You donât have time to waste sitting in a doctorâs office.
Besides, the selfie Sunoo sent with the dog, no matter how adorable, is only a reminder of what you set out to do. The longer you take to graduate, the longer Sunoo has to keep the restaurant afloat through a combination of long hours at odd part-time jobs.Â
Right now, his current gig is as an assistant at the local veterinarianâs office. Your brother loves animals, but it kills you knowing how much heâd rather spend that time cooking. Restoring your familyâs restaurant to its former glory. Surpassing it.Â
It would be such a relief to tell him he doesnât have to pick up extra shifts anymore, to tell your mom that she doesnât need to keep the job she hates at the grocery store anymore. To tell your dad he doesnât need to keep taking all of the contract construction work that takes such a hard toll on his body.Â
Your family, all three of them, have been through so much. Itâs the least you can do to ease some of their strain. To lessen some of their burden.Â
But then you hear Professor Jungâs words again.Â
Find ways to take care of you, too.
Should you? Part of you is still resistant. But regardless, you realize, youâre no use to your brotherâs dream if you run yourself entirely into the ground.Â
Besides, maybe the clinic will give you something a bit more effective than Tylenol for your headaches and you can actually get a bit more studying done before your vision starts to swim.Â
So, even with feet that want to drag, you force yourself all the way to the university health center.Â
You donât make a habit of spending time in hospitals, but much to your relief, this is one of the more pleasant waiting areas youâve been in. The ceilings are high, and the windows are large. Afternoon sunlight warms the space where a dozen odd people wait for their names to be called.Â
It has a relaxed feel to it. There are patterns on the chair cushions. Conversations in the corner. It doesnât have that awful, lifeless, sterile feel youâve been trying to avoid since you were ten.Â
When you give your name to the receptionist, she immediately ushers you towards the small hallway of exam rooms. Glancing towards the half full waiting area, a flicker of surprise crosses your features. Professor Jung must have really pulled some strings for you.Â
You follow her to room number six, offering a tight smile when she says the nurse will be with you shortly.Â
Glancing around the small examination room, it looks how youâd expect. Thereâs a layer of paper beneath the table you sit on, and it crinkles loudly every time you shift your weight. Thereâs a computer in the corner, two low stools, and a handful of medical tools whose name you know about half of.Â
A handful of posters cover the walls. Reminders about good handwashing hygiene, dates for the latest flu shot, a list of symptoms for upper respiratory infections. Thereâs nothing unusual, but you canât quite get your body to relax fully.Â
Before long, you hear a quiet knock on the other side of the door. The nurse that enters introduces herself before settling onto one of the stools in front of you.Â
Glancing down at her clipboard briefly, she looks up to you with a perfunctory kindness in her eyes. âWhat brings you in today?â she asks.Â
âMy professor suggested I come, actually.â
âMm,â she hums. âAnything in particular bothering you?â
You take a deep breath in. Part of you is still itching to just brush her off, but you came all the way here. Might as well be honest.Â
âIâve been having headaches,â you admit. âThey donât usually last long, but theyâre⊠intense. Sometimes they make me dizzy, too. Or nauseous. I havenât vomited or passed out, but Iâve come close a couple of times.â
The nurse nods, reaching for the stethoscope. âHow frequent are these headaches?â
âIt depends,â you nod. âUsually no more than once every couple of days, but itâs been happening more often for the past few weeks.â
Pressing the stethoscope against your sternum, she instructs you to take a deep breath in. Exhale.Â
She jots something down on her clipboard. âWhen you have these headaches, what do you usually do to treat them?â
âTake a Tylenol,â you explain. âMaybe lay down for a while if itâs really bad.â Most of the time, you just grit your teeth through it, but that doesnât seem like the right answer. Â
âWould you describe the pain as manageable?â she asks, picking up another tool. This one, she presses gently into your ear.Â
âUsually, yeah.â You think back to your lecture today, the spinning in your head. âSometimes itâs really intense, but it passes pretty quickly.â
She takes a step back from you, recording another note on her clipboard. âDo you have any other symptoms, anything strange that youâve noticed since the headaches started?â
âNot really,â you shake your head.Â
âAre you sure?â she presses. âNo night sweats? Fever chills? A clammy forehead?â
âIâm sorry,â you interrupt, shaking your head. âItâs really just the headaches that are bothering me. I actually have to get to work soon. Is there anyââ
âI donât think thatâs a good idea,â the nurse frowns. âYouâre running a bit of a fever, and your heartbeat is slightly irregular. Iâd like to check a few more things. Draw some blood and do a chest x-ray, at least.âÂ
âIs that really necessary?â You donât mean to be so curt, but the sudden shift in tone has panic starting to claw at your throat. âMidterms are soon, so Iâve been a bit more stressed than usual. Iâm sure itâs just thatââ
âRegardless,â she interrupts, not unkindly, âitâs best to be sure.â
So you acquiesce. Push up your sleeve with no resistance so she can draw a vial of blood. Donât mention your upcoming shift as she guides you to the x-ray imaging room.Â
The more rooms she leads you to, the more tests they run, the more a sense of unease begins to build in your stomach.Â
Not because youâre worried youâll be late for work. Not because youâre thinking of your to-do list or an upcoming midterm.Â
Because for the first time, youâre beginning to wonder if your headaches arenât quite as benign as youâve dismissed them to be. Thatâs the thing about spending so much time focused on everyone but yourself. You never stop to consider that something could actually be happening to you.Â
Youâre sure itâs just paranoia. Lingering trauma from all your previous time spent in hospital rooms at your brotherâs bedside, but whatever it is, you canât seem to shake it.Â
After another handful of minutes, she gives you the final update. There were no abnormalities detected in any of the x-rays. The blood tests will take a bit longer to process, but theyâll call you within three days.Â
Until then, youâre to take it easy and come back immediately if you notice worsening headaches or any other symptoms.Â
With a nod, you gather your bag again. Walking past the receptionist, you offer her a tight smile. Glancing at your phone, you check the time. You still have a little over an hour before your shift.Â
You should probably eat something, take a quick break before youâre on your feet for the rest of the afternoon, but that lingering feeling of dread in your gut makes both options seem unfavorable.Â
Instead, you force your feet to come to a standstill. Not caring that youâre still in the middle of campus, surrounded by other students passing you by, you screw your eyes shut.Â
You take a deep inhale. Hold it. Count to five. Exhale.Â
Youâre fine. Youâre just fine. You have to be.Â
If you play your cards right, youâll graduate in two semesters. Sunoo will finally have the restaurant of his dreams. Your parents can enjoy a true retirement.Â
Youâre better than this. Stronger than this. A couple of fucking headaches are not going to ruin everything youâve worked for.
Youâve survived worse, and youâll survive this too. No matter how many sleepless nights and skipped meals and bottles of Tylenol it takes. Youâve worked too hard to watch it all go down the drain now.Â
Again, you tell yourself, youâre fine.Â
Even in the privacy of your own mind, you canât quite tell if itâs a lie or not. But at the end of the day, you suppose it doesnât really matter.Â
Youâre so close. Fine or not, you know what you need to do. Â
âŠ..
Three days later, youâre pouring over your insurance law notes in a library study room when the vibration of your ringtone breaks the silence.Â
Checking the caller ID, you hesitate for only a moment before answering.Â
Inconclusive, the nurse from the university health center tells you, and you hate that answer more than you expect to. Youâve spent the last three days more anxious than you care to admit, and this only adds fuel to the fire.Â
According to the nurse, there are some abnormalities in your blood test. Namely in your blood count. Proper diagnosis is outside the scope of the university health center, but theyâve written you a referral to the nearest hospital proper for further testing.Â
Itâs called Saint Maryâs. Itâs pretty close. Should only take you about thirty minutes on the bus.
Mentally, you scramble. Youâre not sure what tests theyâll need to run or how much theyâll cost, but youâre sure the answer isnât free. Your finances are already tight, and part of you wants to just ignore the nurseâs advice and hope that whateverâs causing irregular numbers will resolve itself.Â
But the sheer anxiety of it all is killing you. Maybe the hospital can get you set up with some sort of payment plan. If your rent increase isnât too high, then you can mitigate this with some extra shifts at the cafe.Â
Itâll be fine. Your headaches havenât been nearly as debilitating for the last three days. Visiting the hospital will give you the peace of mind you need to push through these last few semesters.Â
So you make time in your schedule the next day. Erase a study session from your planner and replace it with the hospitalâs name.Â
Pull out the exact change for the bus fare and sink down into a window seat, pulling your headphones over your ears as you watch the city begin to pass you by.Â
It strikes you then, just how little of your surroundings youâve explored these past two years youâve been in university. You can hardly remember the last time you stepped foot off campus for something other than a visit back home.Â
It feels strange, seeing so many buildings and parks and places so close to you and realizing just how unfamiliar they all are.Â
The hospital is only a handful of stops away. You exit the bus just as quickly as you got on, and then you take a deep, steadying breath.Â
The process is nearly identical to your university health center. They ask for your name and identification, but this time, they direct you back to the waiting room. Itâs the bad kind, this time. The type of sterile, lifeless room that makes you want to run back out the front door the way you came.Â
Thankfully, youâre not left to wait long.Â
This nurse is kind, too. She asks for your name and gives you hers. The testing they conduct is more extensive now. Youâre shuffled from one machine to another, listening as they explain the purpose for each one without really processing anything they tell you.Â
And then, when itâs done, they send you to a private room. Inform you with a tight smile that the doctor will be with you shortly.Â
You sit alone for long minutes, waiting. You tap your fingers against the top of your thigh, a steady rhythm that grounds you to reality and allows you to escape it in short bursts.Â
The doctor enters quietly, introduces himself. You donât remember his name. You hardly remember yours.Â
Itâs difficult to focus on anything he says. The ringing in your ears is back, now. Even stronger than before.Â
You only gather bits and pieces of what he tells you. But itâs enough.Â
Three months. The universe must have a strange, sick sense of humor. Must love the vertigo induced by the worst sort of deja vu. Must revel in the irony of doling out death sentences.Â
Three months.Â
Sat in an uncomfortable chair in the dead center of a sterile, lifeless office, the doctor pushes his glasses a little further up his nose. Then, he repeats himself with just as little fanfare.Â
You have three months to live.Â
Itâs only an estimate of course, but heâs seen this kind of tumor before. A rare genetic mutation.
Genetic. Of course.
You should have been tested, ten years ago. But money was so tight, and everyoneâs attention was on Sunoo, and it just never happened. You slipped through the cracks, along with the identical malignant gene mutation you share with your younger brother.
Yours is small still, just behind your heart. Thatâs why the x-ray didnât pick it up. But the MRI today did. Itâs why your blood count is all over the place, why your heartbeat is arrhythmic.
Itâs why youâve been having headaches, why youâve come dangerously close to fainting multiple times in the past few weeks.Â
Three months. It may just be an estimate, but no matter how you look at it, itâs not a lot of time. Itâs no time at all.Â
Grief, pure, raw, aching, hits you with the force of a tsunami wave.Â
The realization strikes you, in the middle of the doctorâs office, that you arenât going to do it. Any of it. You arenât going to graduate. You arenât going to see your parents retire. You arenât going to give Sunoo the restaurant of his dreams.Â
No, instead, you are going to die.Â
You can already feel it. Sunoo was the exception to the rule, the anomaly. He may have survived this once, but he was always meant for better things. He had the care he needed, got the treatments that brought him back to life even if they bled your family dry.Â
Your parents, even if they wanted to, couldnât do that again. They barely scraped by the first time. And even if they could, you wouldnât let them. The guilt of it all would be too unbearable. Maybe even a fate worse than this. Your own savings are laughable. Not anywhere near the amount needed for something of this magnitude.Â
When the doctor asks if thereâs anyone he can call for you, you shake your head. You wonât burden your family with this. Not yet. Not for as long as you can. The weight of their worry would only make it worse.Â
He looks at you with pity, then. With sorrow. You hate them both. He writes you a prescription for a pharmacyâs worth of medication, tells you that these will ease the worst of your symptoms but that you shouldnât expect to be fully functional for more than a month or so with medicine alone.Â
He gives you the list of treatment plans and watches as you half heartedly pretend to look them over. The bold faced font seems to mock you. The pictures of smiling families and spring air that youâll likely never see again.
All of the treatments have fancy names, medical terminology you donât understand. Glancing over the list, the only thing you see is dollar signs. Money you donât have.Â
When you ask for time before making a decision, the doctor advises against it. Reminds you that time is of the essence, that youâre lucky they caught the tumor now before it progressed further.Â
That waiting longer is nothing but a death sentence.Â
You thank him and tell him youâll be in touch shortly. You canât tell if he knows youâre lying through your teeth.Â
The bus ride back to campus passes nearly the same as the journey here did. Again, you sit by the window, pulling your headphones over your ears. The buildings you pass blur into an undistinguishable mix of colors and shapes you realize youâll never get the chance to parse between, to sort through.Â
The ride to the hospital felt like an opportunity, a reminder that there was so much of the world left for you to see. The journey back feels like a prison sentence. The taunting fear that outside the tiny bubble youâve built for yourself, the rest of the world will remain a mystery to you forever.Â
When you reach the stop for your university, you stand, thanking the bus driver as you exit.Â
He looks almost surprised at your gratitude, pleasantly shocked someone remembered him at all.Â
And then you walk, not in the direction of your apartment, but instead towards the cluster of buildings that make up the School of Business. Itâs evening now, and students are far and few between.Â
Thereâs an unseasonal chill to the air, and you pull your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. You walk until you reach the edge of the campus, the place where a singular, half hidden bench sits just out of view. Sinking down onto it, you let it absorb the weight of your body. Pray that it will hold steady as you unleash the weight of your grief.Â
For a moment, you just sit. Your emotions feel out of reach, untouchable in some part of you thatâs been locked away for too long you canât remember how to get there again.Â
But eventually, you find them. It starts slowly, a detached feeling of loss, of mourning, before the floodgates open. Before long, youâre sobbing. Alone on the bench, tears stream down your face with little restraint as choked sobs catch in your chest, your throat. Youâre nearly screaming at the sky, your entire body shaking with the force of it all.Â
Above it, a question circles your mind.Â
Why?
Why this? Why me? Why now?
You cry for so long you think you must surely be out of tears. There canât be anything left in your body besides this horrible disease, this awful fate your own failing nervous system has sealed in stone.Â
And then your sobs start to change. Until itâs not tears youâre choking on anymore, but laughter. Terrible, gut-wrenching, bone-cracking laughter at the sheer irony of it all.Â
Youâre not sure how long you sit there, caught somewhere in the crossfire of all your mixed emotions. But eventually, your sobs subside entirely.Â
As the night begins to close around you, youâre left with nothing but the weight of reality, the gravity of truth. The disorientation of your world thatâs been flipped on top of its head within the span of hours.Â
Every impossible deadline, every bit of effort youâve put into achieving all of your goals these past few years â it suddenly all feels so fucking useless.Â
Every sacrifice youâve made, every self-serving desire youâve pushed to the side, buried beneath your commitment to your family, they all start to bubble to the surface one by one. Until you're left with something that tastes all too much like regret.Â
Youâve never thought about it twice, your decision to pursue business for your brother. Ever since Sunooâs miraculous recovery, his goals and yours have felt inseparable, like one, united thing.Â
But now, alone on a campus bench with a knife hanging over your head, you think, for the first time in a long time, of that little girl who dreamed of being an astronaut. A singer. A scientist.Â
You wonder what sheâd say to you now. If sheâd admire your determination, your grit. Or if sheâd take one look at your business degree and simply think, how boring.Â
You suppose it doesnât really matter now. Sheâs not here anymore. But you are. Even if only for three more months.Â
You imagine telling her the truth, that shadowy version of you that the past has long since claimed.Â
You part your lips. They feel dry against your breath, dehydrated from your sorrow. âI only have three months to live,â you whisper to the wind.Â
Youâre not sure how sheâll react. Sheâs only ten, after all. Death still feels like some abstract concept, youâre sure, not a finite reality. Time still feels malleable. Birthdays still feel far aways. Nights still feel endless. Dreams still feel worth chasing.Â
Three months? She whispers back to you, tilting her head in thought.Â
You nod.Â
Okay, she whispers again. Then live for three months.Â
Itâs not that easy, you want to explain. I have plans, hopes, goals. Things I still need to finish.Â
But maybe you underestimated her. She had her life taken from her too, after all. Maybe she understands your grief more than anyone else ever could.Â
And no matter what you tell her, her answer remains the same.Â
Live, she insists. For three months.Â
So instead of crying or laughing or cursing the universe any longer, you reach into your bag, fingers closing around the spine of your favorite notebook. Pulling a pen out, you open to the next clean page. And then you start to write.Â
âŠ..
The back of Park Jongseongâs head is even more annoying than usual today. Has his hair always been this shiny? Even the fluorescent lights that wash everything else out only seem to make it richer, more luscious looking.Â
Youâre so wrapped up in debating how much pride you would lose by asking him what shampoo he uses that you almost miss the tail end of his argument.Â
âLaying off unnecessary staff is the only way to remedy the situation,â he states. Plainly, firmly, as if his opinion is law. As if thereâs no room for argument. âOf course the accounting error would have ideally been caught much earlier in the process, but if the company is already in secondary audits, itâs practically a losing battle. Itâs best to just cut the losses and preserve what they can.âÂ
âAn interesting perspective as always, Mr. Park,â Professor Jung nods from her place at the podium. Glancing around the lecture hall she asks, âDid anyone have a different interpretation? An alternative recommendation for how the company should proceed?â
Nearly every pair of eyes in the lecture hall turns to you. Even Professor Jung glances up at your seat, although sheâd never admit if you called her out on it.Â
But your hands remain planted firmly on your lap. Instead, you play dumb. Pretend that itâs strange of them all to assume youâd have something to say. Act as if you havenât spent every single other class this semester countering every single one of his points. Today, you remain silent as you too glance around the hall curiously, as if expecting someone else to counter Jayâs idiotic analysis.Â
Perhaps idiotic is too harsh. A better word might be obvious. Thatâs Jayâs problem, you think. Heâs always had everything he needs. Heâs never had to get creative, to think outside the box. He looks at a poorly balanced accounting book and thinks, âHow would Dad handle this?â instead of âWhat would be the best solution for this unique situation?â
Even Jay himself, who sits nearly directly in front of you, tries to shift in his seat subtly enough to take a glance back at you. You donât think youâre imagining the frown on his face when he finds you sitting silently, a mask of indifference on your face as you pretend to type another row of notes on your laptop.Â
âOkay,â Professor Jung continues from the front after the silence extends a moment longer. âIf no one else has anything to add, then weâll look at our next case.â She changes the slide, showing a new set of sample data from year end accounting books. âBusiness A had a profit margin of roughly 6.2% in the third quarter of the previous fiscal yearâŠâÂ
Her words trail off as you glance down at your nails. Theyâre pink. A pretty shade that you selected with spring flowers in mind, even though itâs just the beginning of fall. Call it nostalgia or stupidity, but spring has always been your favorite season. Youâll take it in any form you can. Besides, the shade is gorgeous against your skin. The tip of your ring finger even has a tiny cherry blossom painted on it.Â
You smile, thinking of the nearly two hours you spent yesterday afternoon at the nail salon getting them done. Youâd never been before, but the process was just as fun as you imagined. The nail artist was sweet, too. She graduated from your university just a few years ago with a history degree. Changed her mind a few months after earning her diploma, and after some time in cosmetology school, here she was. Running her own nail salon.
Changing her mind and seeing where life takes her. Not worrying about wasted time in the pursuit of a happy ending. Itâs not jealousy, exactly, but something unpleasant pulls at your heart when you think about it.  Â
You get why she likes her job so much. You feel pretty, feminine. Love the way it feels when your nails tap against the screen of your phone as you type a message. Or click against your keyboard as you type your class notes.Â
They werenât cheap, though. Despite that, youâd only smiled and nodded when she suggested coming back in three weeks for a fill. Youâd have to scratch out another study session to make time, just like you did for this appointment. Old habits may die hard, but no matter how hard you search, you canât quite seem to find a part of you that cares.Â
Youâve always wanted to get your nails done. Always wanted to be one of those girls that walks around with glowing skin and nice hair and new clothes and pretty nails that you fund with disposable income. It doesnât matter if itâs frivolous or ridiculous or hopelessly girly.
Youâve spent years with jagged cuticles and short, plain, nails because it was practical. Because it saved you money and time and effort that you could spend studying or networking or planning for the future.Â
When you finished at the nail salon, you imagined showing your ten-year-old self how they turned out.Â
Very pretty, your past shadowy self told you, and the smile that spread across her face made it worth it all over again.Â
Even now, Professor Jungâs voice fades to a pleasant blur in the background. Youâre going through the motions more than anything. Pretending to write notes even as you alternate between tabs. One for your lecture and one for flight tickets to the nearest beach town that nearly every student at your university has been to at least once for a drunken spring break vacation.Â
Youâve never dreamed of going, have never even been to the beach, but you think it might be nice. You can already imagine the feeling of sand between your toes. Of warm ocean water lapping against your skin. The sound of waves lulling against the shore.Â
A pleasant seaside breeze rustling through your hair.Â
The sound of Professor Jung wrapping up the lecture for the morning drags you back to reality. Thereâs no sunlight in the lecture hall, and thereâs certainly no sea breeze.
There is, however, a reminder.
âDonât forget about the Goldfellowâs annual charity gala this weekend. As upper division students, youâre all welcome to attend. Itâs an excellent opportunity to network and share space with some of the top executives in our local community. If you do decide to attend, remember that it is a formal event and proper attire is expected.â At that, class is dismissed.
The Goldfellow charity event. Although a better label might be âa gathering of every silver spoon raised twenty-something within a fifty mile radius.â You have serious doubts about how much charity is actually being done.
Then again, perhaps you shouldnât judge. Youâve never attended the event yourself, after all. Usually you would jump at any kind of networking opportunity, but this one is different. Exclusive.Â
The stipulation of proper attire has always made it dangle just outside your reach. Until now, it hasnât bothered you much. Youâre sure that most people are there for the ridiculous venue and open bar. And you use that to convince yourself that no real networking is done.Â
Standing from your seat, you pull your bag over your shoulder. Glancing up, you find that Park Jongseong has yet to leave his seat, too. He is standing, though. And, even more alarming, heâs looking right at you.Â
More specifically, his gaze is fixated directly on your hands, your fresh manicure, as if itâs a puzzle heâs trying to solve.Â
Then, he looks up at you. âYouâre quiet today.â
His tone is infuriatingly neutral. You can't tell if heâs mocking you or deliberately trying to incite your rage, but with Jay, youâve made a habit of assuming the worst.
âPerhaps you should take notes,â you suggest, voice even.
Jay shakes his head. âIf I have something to say, Iâll say it.â
âWell, do you?â you ask. âHave something to say, I mean. Or are you just determined to waste a few more minutes of my time?â
His mouth opens, closes again. This time, his already sharp jawline clenches into something lethal. As if heâs biting back words. Ironic, given what he just said.Â
âI suppose I donât,â he finally tells you.Â
âGreat,â you intone flatly. âWell, then.â And then you're pushing past him, all the way down the stairs to the door of the lecture hall. Youâre not sure if he watches or follows or stays right where he is. You donât look back, not even once.Â
A handful of minutes later, youâre in the library. For nearly the first time since you began your degree program, however, itâs not class notes you pour over. Â
Instead, you pull your notebook out from your bag. Your personal notebook. The same one from that night, alone on the bench, screaming at the stars and asking for advice from hallucinations of your younger self.Â
Its pages are mostly blank. You donât use it for much. Grocery lists, mostly. Occasional reminders that arenât related to school. Over the past two and a half years, youâve only managed to fill about twenty pages.
Turning to the last one, you half expect to not find what youâre looking for. Parts of that day still feel like figments of your imagination.Â
But there it is. Looking back at you in your own neat handwriting.
Bucket List, it reads across the upper margin.Â
You nearly snort. You suppose there was no need to get creative, but you really were putting things in blunt terms.
Kicking the bucket. Youâre not sure where the idiom comes from, but you guess it doesnât really matter. There are other things to focus on now. Namely, the neat, bullet point list beneath it.
Get my nails done professionally, the first line reads. You smile, glancing back down at your hands. With a satisfying stroke of ink, you write a checkmark through the hand drawn box next to it.
Done, you think.
Lip caught between your teeth, you scan over the rest of the list.
Get my hair cut and colored professionally
Buy a really expensive dressÂ
Go on a beach vacation
Ride in a convertibleÂ
Kiss a stranger
And then at the bottom, the item you scratched out almost the second after you wrote it.Â
See the Northern Lights
You remember the documentary you watched in elementary school, how magical the sky looked, all lit up in colors, glowing shades of green and blue. But it just isnât realistic. Auroras havenât been sighted in your city in, well, forever. And itâs not like you have the ability to fly to an Arctic country on a whim.Â
So your list is complete with just six items, one already checked off.Â
Itâs a mismatched list. A short jumble of whatever random desires struck you in the moment. You can already think of things to add, to amend.Â
But part of you hesitates. These were the first things you thought of that night. Your most selfish, vanity driven, purely inconsequential desires that you wanted to do just because.Â
It feels wrong to edit them now. So you donât. Instead, you push your planner to the side, ignoring your perfectly curated study schedule.
It doesnât matter now. It doesnât matter if youâre the top scorer on the midterm or if youâre just painfully average. Youâre not even sure you'll get the chance to take it.Â
So instead, you open your laptop and search for hair salons in the area. You donât filter them with the lowest priced options first. You just look. See which ones have a nice interior and friendly looking stylists.Â
Before you can talk yourself out of it, youâre pressing on the âconfirm bookingâ button, despite the fact that the listed prices are nearly a quarter of your monthly rent.Â
It doesnât matter. Youâve never gotten your hair done. Youâve never even let yourself think about getting your hair done.Â
But alone on the bench with the weight of your imminent mortality heavy on your shoulders, it was one of the things you wanted to try.Â
Like your nails, itâs frivolous. Unnecessary. And thatâs what makes it perfect. Itâs something entirely for you. For no reason other than the fact that you simply want to.Â
Glancing at the next list item, your mind starts to turn. A new hair style and an expensive dress deserve to be seen, after all.Â
The Goldfellow charity gala is hardly your ideal party, but youâre not sure how many formal events youâll be invited to in the next three months. This might be your only chance.Â
Sifting through your emails, you find the invitation Professor Jung forwarded to all her students. And then, before you can overthink it, you RSVP yes.Â
And then you start looking up department stores in your area.
âŠ..
The dress you wear looks just as good when you put it on Saturday night as it did in the fitting room two days ago.Â
It fits you like a glove, flattering your body in a way you didnât even know was possible based on your experience with the clearance rack. And itâs satin. Has a beautiful, subtle shine and glimmers gorgeously under the soft chandelier lights.Â
Walking into the charity gala, the man at the front smiled as he offered to take your coat for you. Didnât look at you with pity or confusion or poorly hidden disgust.Â
He just smiled. Like you belong here.Â
For once, you actually feel like you do. At most networking events, especially the ones hosted by the upper echelon, you feel a bit like a toddler in her motherâs closet. Playing dress up with the big kids in a way thatâs painfully obvious.Â
But not tonight. Tonight, you feel pretty. Worth the second glances people are giving you. You understand it, why people with the resources go through so much trouble. Their attention feels good. You like the way people look at you like they want to know more.Â
Settling further into the tastefully decorated convention room, you can picture it all, a life you could have had if youâd been born with money and ambition for this particular field.Â
Youâd be a charmer, you decide. The kind of girl that needs nothing more than a good dress and thirty seconds to have investors begging at her feet. A true conglomerate sweetheart that understands how the best of deals are made with champagne and well-timed fleeting glances.Â
Kind of like the girl your eyes land on now. On the opposite side of the room, her long, dark hair shines under the low chandelier light. Sheâs gorgeous, and itâs not just because of the deep, red dress that favors her.
Even from a distance, even at a glance, you can tell she comes from money. She carries herself with that kind of grace, that self-assurance that wealthy people always have. Like the room belongs to her.
Whoever sheâs talking to seems to agree. Itâs a man, you can tell. He has his back to you, but you can imagine his expression easily enough. His eagerness. The way he hangs off her every word, hoping sheâll deem him worthy of her time a little longer.Â
You watch for another moment, until he turns. Itâs his side profile you see now, and itâs unmistakable. Jay.Â
Of course. You want to roll your eyes.Â
The two of them are perfect together. A match made in heaven, or maybe a CEOâs board room.Â
Either way, it has you adjusting your dress, a bit uncomfortably. All of a sudden, it starts to feel like an illusion again.
One hair cut, one expensive dress. Youâre still playing dress up. You just did a better job this time. The truth is that you can wear whatever you want. It will never be enough to make you belong here. Not really. Not in the way they do.Â
The next time a waiter passes with a tray of champagne flutes, you donât hesitate to reach out and grab one.Â
Taking a long, slow sip, you allow yourself one final look at Jay. At the girl heâs with. He laughs at something she says, and she puts her hand on his arm.Â
You pretend like there isnât something unpleasant starting to swim in your gut.Â
And then you make yourself busy. It is a networking event, after all.Â
The first person you find is another girl from your class. She hardly recognizes you, and you canât quite decide if you like that or not. The champagne is starting to form a pleasant, light sort of haze in your mind, and you feel like you canât be bothered by anything.Â
You speak for a minute before moving on. Before long, you start to lose track of all your conversation partners. Another boy from your class. A recent graduate. A startup leader whoâs always looking for interns to join his team.
One conversation bleeds into the next, and your glasses of champagne do the same.
The lights start to feel warmer, or maybe that's just the proximity of bodies. Either way, your cheeks are flushed when the waiter passes again.Â
Reaching out, you replace your empty glass with a full one. But you never get the chance to bring it to your lips.Â
A hand suddenly encircles your wrist, plucking the champagne flute from between your fingers.Â
âHeyââ you begin to protest, but a glance upwards stops you dead in your tracks. The hand around your wrist, the champagne thief, is none other than Park Jongseong. Â
Heâs looking at you with something furious in his gaze. âWhat is wrong with you?âÂ
For a moment, youâre too stunned to respond. And thenâ âWhatâs wrong with you?â you return. âI was drinking that.âÂ
You try to reach around him for your stolen champagne, but heâs faster. He steps to the side, effectively blocking your path. You hate to admit it, but he looks good.Â
Of course he does. This is his domain, after all. It comes naturally to him, youâre sure, the styled hair, the spotless suit thatâs been tailored to perfection.Â
Across from you, heâs looking too. You watch as he swallows, throat bobbing with the action.Â
Just like in the lecture hall, his gaze makes you fidget, brings back your previous uncertainty tenfold.Â
Youâre hoping heâll get lost, but Jay does the opposite.
âI donât know what sorrows youâre trying to drown,â he intones flatly, âbut a charity event hardly seems the place to do it, donât you think?â
âIâm not drowning anything,â you argue. Itâs a lie, but he doesnât need to know that. âItâs only my second glass.â Another lie.Â
His lips pull into a thin line. âItâs at least your third.âÂ
God damnit.Â
You roll your eyes. âWhat are you, my father? Iâm not even drunk.â
âAnd itâs probably best we keep it that way.â
âThere is no we.â Your eyes narrow. âI can handle myself and my alcohol. So give me back my champagne and go back to flirting with whatever oil tycoonâs daughter you were talking to earlier before she thinks I stole you from her.â
A flicker of surprise crosses his features, and you curse your misstep. It appears he wasnât the only one keeping tabs tonight.Â
âI wasnât flirtingââ
âI donât care what you were doing. Champagne.â You nod towards it pointedly. âNow.â
Jay makes no move towards the glass. Instead, he just looks at you for a moment. Assessing. âYouâre acting strange these days,â he finally says. He scans you again, all the way down to where your hemline brushes against your heels. âAnd you look different. Your hairâŠâ
You roll your eyes again. âYes, well youâll be delighted to know that even scholarship students have the privilege of getting a haircut sometimes.â
âWhat?â he blinks. âI didnât even know you wereââ he shakes his head. âNever mind. Itâs not just that. The color is different.â
Your hair, the hair you were so terribly fond of less than five minutes ago, you suddenly want to rip out of your scalp. âTry not to faint from the shock,â you say, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, âbut we do occasionally splurge on a box of hair dye, too.â
âIn class, too,â he presses, ignoring your sarcasm. âYouâre quiet. I mean, the other day in Professor Jungâs, you didnât even counter my suggestion for mass layoffs from that sample data set.â
He really has some nerve. Some sheer fucking audacity. âBelieve it or not, my sole purpose in life is not to correct every one of your idiotic takes in class. I think Iâd run out of oxygen if I had to do that.â
âYou had no problem doing it before,â he points out.
âAnd now Iâm not. Shouldnât you be relieved?â Champagne momentarily forgotten, you take a step forward, praying your argument will be final enough to get him to leave. âI mean, the way I see it, you should be thanking me. Everyone else is way too scared to go against you because of your family name. Now that even Iâm silent, the entire lecture hall is officially your echo chamber to conquer.â
âI donât want an echo chamber,â he shakes his head. âYouâve always had good, I mean, interesting ideas,â he amends. âYou made me have to think harder, approach problems in a new way. Itâs made me a lot better at analysis.âÂ
You thought you had all but run out of rage, but that comment incites a new flame you hadnât realized was still there.Â
âWell Iâm terribly sorry that I canât be your stepping stone to becoming a better analyst anymore,â you say, eyes narrow as your tone goes dangerously low. âI suppose youâll just have to do it on your own now.â
âWait,â he protests as he realizes how you interpreted his words. âThatâs not what I meantââ
But youâre over it. Over this conversation. Over this event. And most certainly over him.Â
âTo be completely honest, Jay, Iâm not really interested in hearing about what you meant. In fact, the only thing I really want is to have my champagne and some peace and quiet again. So, Iâm just gonna just take my glass back, and you can shove whatever you meant by that right up yourââ
He steps to the side again, this time just as your fingers are closing around the stem of your glass. Knocking into your wrist, he sends the contents of your glass flying, spilling down the front of his ridiculously expensive suit.Â
Itâs his fault, technically, but even with your renowned flippance on finances, you donât want to be responsible for footing that dry cleaning bill.Â
âShit,â you breathe. He just stands there for a moment, shellshocked. Useless, you think.Â
âHere,â you open your purse, pulling out the wad of napkins you keep stashed in case of accidents just like this. He takes them from you wordlessly as you search for more. Youâre sure you have another handful somewhere in your bag. âItâs a light liquid, so it should be okay. Just dab at it gently, and thenââ
You look back up, the words dying on your lips.Â
Because Jay is not dabbing gently at the stain on his suit jacket. In fact, he doesnât seem concerned with the spill at all. Instead, heâs intently examining one of the napkins you gave him, eyes narrowed in concentration.Â
Confusion flickers across your features. Did you accidentally give him a napkin that was already stained with something? Is there a weird brand name written on it?Â
âWhat?â you ask. âWhy arenât youââ you look at the paper in his hands again. With a sinking feeling in your gut, you realize that along with the napkins, you handed him something else. Something you never intended for anyone else to see.Â
Panicking, you reach for it. Jay is quicker. Holding it above his head, he keeps it firmly out of your reach. Even in your heels, your fingers canât quite close around it.Â
â___,â he says your name. His voice is entirely too close to your ear. Stopping your struggle for a moment, you look at him. Involuntary, you let out a small gasp at the sudden proximity. As if youâve been burned, you take a half step back.Â
Looking at you with his hand still stretched above his head, he asks in a low tone, âWhy do you have such a weird bucket list? And why do you carry it around in your purse?â
âItâs not a bucket listââ
âIt literally says âBucket Listâ at the top.â
God damnit. Why did you write that?  Â
âItâs nothing. Just give it back to meââ
He continues to dangle the paper just out of reach. âDoes someone have a hit out on you or something? Do you terrorize students in all your classes and now one of them is finally taking revenge?â Thereâs a playfulness in his tone, but you donât miss the concern hiding there, too. Even if he tries to disguise it.Â
âYou know,â he presses on, ââSheâs smarter than me and I hate her for itâ isnât a legally mitigating circumstance for murder. You can tell the authorities if someoneâs acting like it is.â
âNo oneâs trying to kill me.â In your panic, you almost miss his mangled attempt at a compliment.Â
âThen why are you acting like youâre going to die?â He says it so bluntly, so plainly, that you swear you nearly feel the world slip from underneath your feet.Â
He doesn't mean it. Thereâs no way he actually means it, but it sobers you in a startling way. The thought that Jay, someone youâve only come to know through contempt and competition, can read you like an open book.Â
âIâm notââ Your words suddenly feel like chalk in your throat. Youâre no stranger to lying, but you canât seem to bring yourself to say it. Not with the weight of his gaze, with the weight of your diagnosis, pressing against you from all angles.Â
You feel it again, that sickening and all too familiar sensation. It starts as a sharp, localized pain, just above your left eyebrow. You wince. Your breath is suddenly a difficult thing to catch.Â
In front of you, Jayâs posture eases slightly. Youâd be able to grab your list again now, surely. If only you could get your limbs to cooperate.Â
Pain spreads quickly, first through your head. The ringing in your ears is back, too. That high pitched sound you canât seem to shake as your vision starts to swim. You feel unsteady on your feet as nausea begins to roll in your stomach.Â
Beneath you, your legs feel useless. Made of jelly, feeble, about to buckle under your weight. You sway slightly, hand coming to your forehead as you try to think through the pain, through the haze.Â
You canât collapse. Not now. You have to stay standing. You have to be okay.Â
âWoah,â Jay says. Itâs lost somewhere amongst the high pitched frequency in your ears. Your pathetic bucket list lies discarded on the table behind him as he reaches forward, as if to steady you. His hands never find you, though. They just linger awkwardly in the space between your bodies, still half outstretched. âYou okay?â
You try to answer, try to brush him off and grit through your teeth that youâre fine, but it feels different from before. The nausea, the worst of the dizziness should be passing by now. Your consciousness should be coming back to you, not fading into darkness the more you try to cling to it.Â
âHey,â you think he says. Gently, so gently, and you can barely hear him, can barely distinguish words from one another. âHey, why donât you sit down. Iâll get you some water or something, andââ
You donât hear the end of his suggestion. With one final breath, your last tie to consciousness is severed. You feel your body teetering, before you start to slump forward. You think you feel it then, the warmth of his hands on your skin. The weight of your body against the soft fabric of his suit instead of the unforgiving surface of the hardwood floor beneath you.Â
Your head rests against his chest. Even as your consciousness fades, you can feel his heartbeat, the way it pounds beneath your cheek. You think you hear him call out, loud at first and then louder. Thereâs desperation in his voice as he begs, pleads for help.Â
With warm hands against your skin, and your pulse ringing loudly in your ears, the world around you fades entirely until thereâs nothing but darkness.Â
âŠ..
Squinting, the only thing you can make out is light. Itâs bright, too bright. The sudden influx of light only makes the dull ache against your temples more pronounced. Blinking slowly, you try to ease away some of your confusion.Â
Youâre not in your bedroom, that much you know for sure. Eyes opening fully, your surroundings begin to take shape. The ceiling above you is tiled, lined with fluorescents. Turning your head to the side, you see two chairs. A bedside table. A vitals monitor.Â
Youâre in a hospital.Â
Trying not to panic, you push at the bed beneath you, moving your body into an upright position. The monitor next to you doesnât seem to appreciate your effort. The second you sit up, it starts beeping incessantly, flashing a warning sign youâre not sure how to interpret.
A handful of seconds later, the door bursts open, a nurse flying in.Â
âYouâre awake,â she assesses. âGood.â Hands pressing against your shoulders gently, she urges you back to a laying position. âYou shouldnât try to sit up for at least a few minutes. Your body is still a little out of sorts right now.â
A little out of sorts. Thatâs a mild way of putting it, you suppose.Â
âIâŠâ you trail off, still a bit dazed. âWhich hospital am I in?â
The nurse frowns at you, sympathy in her eyes. âYouâre in Saint Maryâs, sweetheart. My name is Hana. Iâve been overseeing your care since your boyfriend brought you in yesterday evening.â
âMy⊠boyfriend?â you echo.
âMhm,â Hana nods. He should be back any minute. Iâll let him know youâre awake. He stayed here all night, you know. You found a good one,â she winks. Scanning the vitals machine, she adds, âYou seem to be pretty stable now, but you took quite a fall last night. Youâre lucky he was there to catch you. The doctor will want to speak to you again and get a final prognosis, but I think you should be free to go before the end of the day unless we find anything new.â
âOkay,â you nod, still a bit stuck on the word boyfriend. âThank youâŠâ you trail off, not able to remember the name she gave you.Â
âHana,â she finishes helpfully.Â
You nod again. âThank you, Hana.â
Just as she turns to leave, the door to your room opens again. This time, itâs Jay that comes tumbling in. Like Hana, he seems to have been in quite a hurry, if the shallowness of his breath is anything to go by.Â
His eyes lock on you. You have the sudden urge to fidget under his stare.Â
âThey told me you woke up,â he states. In the middle of your hospital room, he looks more unsure of himself than youâve ever seen him. His hands, usually folded neatly or busy with work, hang awkwardly at his sides.Â
His hair is mussed. It still looks good, of course, but itâs messier than youâve ever seen it.
Heâs still wearing his suit from last night, from the gala. Itâs not so pristine now. Heâs removed the jacket, for starters. And the champagne stain still spreads across the front of his white shirt, more obvious now that itâs dried.Â
His collar is askew, the top button undone by what appears to have been frantic hands. Â
You wish you were here under different circumstances, so you could truly revel in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Park Jongseong looking disheveled.Â
âSheâs awake,â Hana confirms. âVitals look good for now.â Looking at you again, she points to the red button on the table beside you. âPress that if you need anything.â Glancing between you and Jay, she ends with, âIâll give the two of you some privacy.â She winks at you again, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to correct her assumptions.Â
But then sheâs gone. Itâs just you and Jay.Â
âYou told them youâre my boyfriend?â You arch an eyebrow. Â
Jay shakes his head. âI didnât tell them anything.â
âBut you let them assume.âÂ
âIt was either that or they called your family.â At the mention of them, something cold and sharp pierces through your gut.Â
Still, you bluff, âWhat makes you think I donât want them to call my family?â
âDo you?â He calls it. âI can go tell Hana right now.â His gaze narrows, once again assessing you like youâre a particularly stubborn spreadsheet. âBut I donât think you want me to do that. In fact, I donât think youâve even told your family youâre sick at all.â
You freeze. âWhy would you assume that?â
âAm I wrong?â he challenges.Â
Your silence is confirmation enough.Â
âI knew it.â He laughs in disbelief, looking at the ceiling for a moment before he returns his gaze to you. âThatâs so like you. You know, I get not telling your family when you have the flu or some weird infection you picked up from a party you shouldnât have gone to, but Jesus Christ, ____. Cancer?â
Your body goes cold at the word. He knows. Jay knows.Â
His anger is confusing. And, you think, entirely unfair. âYeah, well, itâs not like I exactly chose to have it.âÂ
âNo, but you did choose to drink. You know, the doctor told me he specifically warned you about the side effects of alcohol with your medication.â
âThat has to be a HIPAA violation. I should sue for dubious ethicsââ
âThen I hope every doctor you come across has âdubious ethicsâ so they can get someone else to help keep you alive,â he exasperates, volume rising, âsince you donât seem very interested in doing it yourself.â
The silence that follows is deafening. You must have misheard him. Thereâs no way he actually has enough audacity to say that to you. But this is Park Jongseong youâre talking about.Â
Of course he does. Of course he fucking does.Â
Your voice is low when you enunciate with an unnatural level of precision, âExcuse me? What did you just say to me?â
Jay has a mind of his own. âI mean, seriously, what the hell were you thinkingââ
This time, you wonât let him finish. âI donât know who the fuck you think you are, but you donât know the first thing about me or my family or my situation. I know youâre used to walking into a room and having your opinion matter more than everyone elseâs, but you donât get to do that here.â Your chest is heaving now. Youâre half afraid your vitals monitor is going to start beeping at you again. But youâre angry. âThis is my life. My burden to bear. Thank you for helping me get to the hospital safely. Truly. But that doesnât give you the right to dish out your opinion unsolicited.âÂ
Across from you, Jay takes a deep inhale. Releases it.Â
His eyes scan your face. He sees the anger there. The resentment. He drags a palm across his forehead, and on his next exhale, he says, much more quietly, âIâm sorry.â You can hardly believe your ears.Â
âWhat?â You have to make sure. Surely you heard him wrong.Â
But he says it again, more audible this time.Â
âIâm sorry,â he repeats. âYouâre right. Iâm just⊠confused, ____.â Heâs looking at you again, in that way that you hate. Like heâs trying to see all the way down to your bones. âI canât figure this out at all. I mean, the ___ I know fought tooth and nail for every class assignment, no matter how small. You practically ran yourself into the ground every exam season since freshman year. Iâve never met anyone who works as hard, who tries as hard, as you at anything. And that was for test grades. And now⊠this is⊠this is your life. And I may not know everything about you or the situation, but from where Iâm standing, it looks like youâve just accepted it. Iâve never seen you go down for anything without a fight, and now Iâm supposed to believe that youâre just gonna let death take you?â He shakes his head. âItâs just not you.â
âItâs different.â You shake your head. You donât expect him to understand. The last thing you want to discuss with a conglomerate heir is family finances. So youâll tell him in vague terms. âAssignment grades, test scores, those are things I can control. The outcome is directly related to my effort. This is⊠different. Thereâs something broken in my body. It doesnât play by the rules, and it doesnât care about the effort I put in. No matter what I do, itâs just broken.â
âBut the doctor mentioned treatment plans. He said there were options to considerââ
âNot for me,â you shake your head. âThose options arenât things I can do.â
âBut why?â he presses. âThis is your life. Even if thereâs only a small chance, isnât anything worth trying?â
âI donât know,â you admit. Itâs more honest than you planned to be. But his searching gaze, his rising desperation, have you feeling vulnerable. âI donât know if itâs the right choice. If Iâll regret it. But itâs still my choice, and this is what Iâm choosing now.â
âSo what?â he pleads for a bit of understanding. âYou just stick it out for a couple of years and then say goodbye to everything?â
âThree months,â you correct.Â
âWhat?â
âThe doctor estimated I have about three months left. I suppose itâs a little less now,â you amend. âItâs already been nearly a week.â
âThree mââ His voice breaks on the last syllable, eyes wide where they meet yours. Something releases in his body. The breath that was holding him upright. He deflates. âThatâs notâ You wonât even graduate. Youâll hardly finish the semester.â
âI know,â you nod. Youâve had time, albeit not much, to process some of your grief, your shock. Watching it play out across Jayâs features in real time is jarring, to say the least. âThatâs why I made that stupid list I accidentally handed you at the gala. I know itâs not exactly a good bucket list, but theyâre things that I want to do. Things that will make the next three months feel meaningful.âÂ
He just stares at you for a moment. âI⊠youâre so calm.â
âBelieve me,â you smile ruefully, âIâve had my fair share of tears and screaming and throwing things. But none of it changes anything.â You look away from him now, eyes on the window. âI donât want to spend the next three months angry. Not at myself or anyone else or the universe.â
You feel his eyes against the side of your face. He wonât say anything in response. Wonât give any sort of acknowledgement or approval to your acceptance.Â
Instead, he tells you, âYou have to stay away from alcohol.â
At that, you roll your eyes. âCut me some slack. You tell a girl sheâs got three months to live and you donât even let her drown her sorrows in a glass of champagne?â Itâs meant to be a joke. Or at least a bit lighthearted. Something to diffuse to stifling tension.Â
Jay doesnât seem to appreciate the punchline.Â
âDo you know how fucking terrified I was when you collapsed like that?â His voice is low, urgent. Your gaze meets his again, and thereâs something desperate in his eyes. âIâm serious, ___. No alcohol.â
The gravity of his tone hits somewhere deep within you. Even if itâs only fleeting, even if it wasnât intentional, itâs nice to think for a moment that someone else shares this burden with you. That thereâs another soul in this world that understands whatâs happening, that cares about the choices you make and their effect on you.Â
âOkay,â you breathe, voice small. âNo alcohol.â
âGood,â Jay nods. His relief doesnât feel fabricated, not when you watch some of the tension ease out of his shoulders. âOkay,â he nods. âHana mentioned that the doctor will want to talk to you again. He should be stopping by soon. Iâll wait for you, and then I can drive you back to campus.â
âYou donât have to do that.â You shake your head. âI can just take the busââ
âDonât be ridiculous,â he cuts you off. âIâm already here.â
âOkay,â you nod. You could argue further, but you have the feeling it would be useless. Suddenly, youâre the one feeling unsure of yourself. âThank you,â you tell him, more a force of habit than anything.Â
Silence stretches between you, both of you avoiding direct eye contact.Â
As you look around the room, a question strikes you. âI know that this is Saint Maryâs but which ward am I in? It looks different from before.â
âAh,â Jay nods. âThatâs because youâre not in a ward.â Confusion flickers across your features. Heâs quick to explain, âThis is a private room.â
âA privââ You nearly choke on your words. You donât even want to imagine the hospital bill youâre currently racking up. âI didnât request that.â
âI know,â he says, either oblivious to your panic or ignoring it. âI did.âÂ
âYouâŠâ You try not to let anger be your primary emotion, but itâs difficult in the moment. âJay, I canât afford a private room.â
At that, he only looks surprised. âWhat are you talking about?â He balks. âYou donât have to⊠I wasnât going to ask you to pay.â
âOf course Iâm paying,â you argue. âYou think Iâm going to let you cover my hospital bills?âÂ
âYouâre not paying me back,â he shakes his head.Â
âDonât do that,â you warn as soon as you see something dangerous start to enter his gaze. âI might be sick and I might not have money, but you donât get to pity me.â
At that, he looks genuinely surprised. Heâs quiet for a moment. And then, soft but firmer than you expect, he says, âI donât pity you. I donât, canât even begin to understand you, but I donât pity you. Not today, not ever. My family donates regularly to this hospital,â he explains. âThey offered to put you here as soon as I said my name. Thereâs nothing to pay back.â
âOh,â you say. Your voice comes out smaller than you mean for it to. And then, just because it feels due, âThank you.â
Jay looks at you for a moment, expression unreadable. âYou can thank me by actually listening to what the doctor says this time. And then by following his advice.â
âI will,â you nod.
âSeriously. Medication side effects are no joke. You have toââ
âI will,â you repeat, firmer this time.Â
âOkay,â Jay accepts. âGood.â
As if on cue, you hear a quiet shuffling outside your door. Muffled voices exchanging words, feet turning towards the entrance. The doctor must be here.Â
Jay hears it too. He looks at you one last time and instructs, âBehave. And listen.â
Something about the way he says it has your spine feeling rigid. âI already told you I willââÂ
The knock interrupts your protests as the doctor enters the room. Itâs the same middle-aged man you saw the last time you visited Saint Maryâs. The one who gave you your diagnosis. The one who told you you have three months left to live.Â
You donât remember his name now. DoctorâŠ
Your eyes land on his name tag. Thatâs right. Doctor Kim.
He looks at you now with an expression thatâs hard to decipher. Not pity. Not sympathy. Now that he knows you have someone willing to come to the hospital for you.Â
You wonder if heâs curious about it now, the reason you told him you had no one to call before.Â
Itâs impossible to tell. Doctor Kimâs expression is unreadable. Heâs a malignant tumor specialist, after all. Heâs used to giving out terrible news, to putting even the worst of circumstances in plain terms.Â
Jay greets him before excusing himself. He reminds you heâll be waiting, when youâre done. And then, he's gone.Â
At first, Doctor Kim rechecks your vitals, jots down a couple of notes. And then he says, âI canât lie, Miss ____. I was hoping the next time I saw you, weâd be discussing treatment plans.â
âAh,â you intone. You try to keep your voice light, but you canât quite look at him when you say, âIâm sorry to disappoint.âÂ
âChampagne, was it?â He pulls a stool up next to your beside and sits. Thereâs no judgement in his voice, not even the frustration that Jay had. Heâs just confirming the facts, but that somehow feels even worse. Like youâve disappointed him.Â
âOnly a few glasses.âÂ
âA sip of alcohol is enough to trigger serious side effects with the medication youâre on. Youâre lucky all you did was lose consciousness. Youâre very lucky someone was there to catch you. If you had fallen, weâd be having a very different conversation right now. If you were able to talk at all, that is.â
The gravity of his words hit you with full force.
âWhat?â The syllable is small, breathy.
Doctor Kim sighs. âPerhaps the gravity of the situation was not fully conveyed at our previous meeting. Iâll be more clear now. Miss, ____, your body isnât able to heal itself right now. Your blood cells, even the healthy ones, are deteriorating rapidly. If you fall, if something breaks, if you cut your finger and it becomes infected, the three month estimate I gave you becomes much shorter.â
Thereâs no ringing in your ears, but his words feel muffled, like youâre listening underwater.Â
He continues, âThatâs why my primary treatment plan includes a specialized, targeted version of chemotherapy that canââ
You shake your head. âIâm not interested.â
âYouâre not interested in what, exactly?â he asks. âLiving?â
Youâre quiet for a moment. Canât quite meet his gaze. âAm I free to go?â
âYouâre stable for now, but Iâd like to keep you one more night ifââ
âIs that a yes?â
He sighs. âIf you insist on going, then I wonât force you to stay.â
âThank you, doctor. Iâll be more careful.âÂ
He has more to say, youâre sure of it, but the room remains silent as he helps detach the monitors from your body.Â
And then thatâs the end of it.Â
The drive back to campus is quiet, mostly. Jay has some old classic rock album on shuffle, but he keeps the volume low. Lets you look out the window and doesnât say much. Doesnât expect you to either.Â
The truth sits heavy between the two of you now.Â
It interrupts your plans, shatters the mirage youâd constructed.Â
For the last week, youâve imagined your death and the moments leading up to it as a solitary endeavor. You know youâll have to tell your family eventually. But you have to time it right. If thereâs any hope, theyâll insist on treatment. Even though it would mean losing the threadbare pieces of their lives that theyâve managed to scrape back together.Â
You told Professor Jung that your health checkup went well, told Kaia that the two hundred dollar rent increase coming next year was something you still needed time to think about.Â
Youâre prolonging it. Delaying it. Death is your dirty little secret. Well, was.Â
The evidence of that currently has his eyes trained on the road ahead, knuckles slightly pale against the steering wheel.Â
And that presents a problem.Â
As you approach the outskirts of campus, you break the silence. âPlease donât tell anyone,â you request.Â
Jay sighs. Resigned, like he expected this. âDoes anyone know?â
âNo,â you shake your head.Â
âYour family?â
He already guessed in the hospital, but you confirm it again now. âIâll tell them when the timeâs right.â
âWhen itâs too late, you mean.â Heâs stealing glances at you now. You school your features into something neutral as he does it again. Reads you like a damn open book. Predicts even the darkest of your plans with ease.Â
âItâs complicated,â you argue. Youâre not sure why you feel the need to justify your choices to him.Â
âHow so?â he presses.
You deflect. âItâs a long story.â
Jay wonât give it up. âI have time.â
Youâre quick, too. âYeah, well I donât.â
He doesnât get it at first. âWhat? What urgent plans could you possibly have on a Sunday afternoon?â
Youâre silent for a moment, just giving him a look while you wait for the ill timed joke to sink in.Â
âOh,â he finally says, slow on the uptake. And then heâs glaring. âThatâs not funny.â
âI think it is.â You shrug.Â
âDo you really? Or is it just easier?â
That catches you off guard. âWhat?â
âIt is easier,â he repeats, âto treat it all as some big joke? Something meaningless? To pretend like your life doesnât matter to you, like none of this scares you?
Youâre quiet for a moment. Silent, while the wake of his words settles around you. It extends a bit too long, and despite all the boundaries heâs already broken today, he worries heâs overstepped.Â
âSorry,â he apologizes. âIââ
âOf course Iâm scared,â you whisper. In the passenger seat of his car, the admission feels like defeat. You feel like youâre on that bench again, by the business buildings. Only this time, you arenât alone. âJay, Iâve never been more fucking terrified in my life. Death is so⊠unknown. Iâm scared it will hurt. Iâm scared that it wonât, that Iâll feel nothing at all. Iâm scared that three months will be over before I have the chance to do anything that matters, and Iâm fucking scared that I wonât even actually get all the time the doctor estimated. When I close my eyes and try to sleep, I see my parents. My little brother. I imagine them seeing me like that â pale and stiff and wrong â and they just keepââ Your voice breaks. âTheyâre always crying. And then itâs not just fear anymore. Itâs guilt too. I made them feel that way. I couldnât just stay alive for them. It was my fault, and deep down, maybe they resent me for it, too.â
âThen whyââ He whispers, voice cracking too like heâs the one whoâs suffering. âWhy wonât you get help? Why wonât you tell them?â
âBecause believe it or not,â you whisper back, âI think it would be worse if I did. I watched them lose everything, give everything up once. I canât ask them to do it again for me. The guilt would eat me alive. I canât be that selfish.â
âAnd this isnât selfish? Making their choice for them?â
You shake your head. âItâs my turn to make a sacrifice.â
âAre you insane?â Heâs louder now, as if sense can be forced into your head with volume. âLove isnât some transaction you pass back and forth. Youâre lying to yourself,â he accuses. âYouâre not telling them because you already know what they would do. Theyâd do anything for you. It doesnât matter if theyâve been through hell before. Theyâd choose to do it again. Always. So put your guilt aside for a second and let people that love you take care of you when you need it.â
Heâs dangerously close to striking a vein you donât want him to find. His arguments are making too much sense, eroding the decisions you thought were set in stone. You need him to stop. âYou donât get itââ
âBecause you wonât tell me anything!â His palms splay against the steering wheel now, open in frustration.
âI donât have to!â Youâre loud now too. âI barely know you. Itâs not like you would even begin to understand, anyway. You were born with the world at your fingertips, but in case you need a reality check, thatâs not what life is like for the rest of usââ
Jay switches into the left lane so suddenly it cuts through your words. Thrown by the force, you grip the armrest for support. âWhat are you doing? Youâre about to miss the turnââ
âI hope,â his voice is low now. Steady, controlled but just barely. âThat Iâm misunderstanding you.â
He waits until the light is green, then he spins the car through a U-turn.Â
âJay, what are you doing? I need to go back to campusââ
Heâs done hearing your excuses. âAre you telling me this is about fucking money?â
In the passenger seat, your blood runs cold. Shit. Shit. You said too much.Â
âI didnât say that.â
âNo, but you said I wouldnât understand. Because of my family. Their resources. Their money.â
âI did not say that,â you argue, but itâs futile. Weak to even your ears.
âYou implied it.â
âSo what,â you scoff. âIâm done talking about it. Like I said, you wouldn't get it. And why did you turn around? Where are you even going?â
âIâm taking you back to the hospital.â His tone leaves no room for discussion.Â
âWhat?â For the second time, your blood runs cold. âWhy?â
âWhy do you think?â He says it like itâs obvious. Like nothing youâve said in the past few hours has gotten through to him. âSo you can tell the doctor you changed your mind and start treatment.â
Youâre panicking now, pulling at your seatbelt. âI didnât change my mind,â you protest. âIâm not starting treatmentââ
âAnd Iâm not gonna drive you back to campus and act like everythingâs okay. Iâm not gonna sit here and watch you die.â
His words hang in the air, the implication obvious. He has the money, after all. Probably wonât even notice itâs missing. You hate the way it makes you feel small, like you owe him something. Like heâs doing this out of some misplaced sense of obligation.
Your voice is barely audible. âYou told me you didnât pity me.â
âI donât,â he reaffirms. âThis isnât pity.â
Your words bite, even more than you mean for them to. âWell, Iâm not a fucking charity case either.â
âThen itâs not charity.â He shakes his head. âItâs a deal.â
âA deal?â you echo. âWhat deal could you possibly make with meââ
âLet me finish first in our class,â Jay says, and it catches you entirely off guard. âIn all of our remaining courses and overall class rank,â he clarifies. âLet me take first.â
You scoff. âYou donât need me to do anything for that.â
âI do,â he insists. âYou and I have been neck and neck since our first year. Competing against you, thereâs no guarantee.â
âThatâs hardly an equal trade,â you point out. âI canât even imagine how much moneyââ
âIt is for me.â His jaw tightens. âIf I donât rank first, my father wonât officially initiate me as a shareholder. I wonât have any position or power in the company. And heâs not fond of second chances. I wonât have an opportunity to remedy my mistake later.â
At that, you turn to face him fully, surprise coloring your features. His eyes are still on the road, but youâre sure he can feel that way you scan his side profile, the tense set of his jaw and shoulders.Â
You canât get a read on him, on what heâs thinking. Does it humiliate him to ask? Is he even telling the truth? You canât imagine someone in your family ever treating you so coldly, but the sudden tension doesnât seem fabricated.Â
You know youâd be stupid not to agree. You donât need to rank first to keep your scholarship, and that accolade wonât mean much past graduation. You glance at him again. Well, at least not for you.Â
And regardless of the consequences, youâd get a fighting chance. Something akin to hope blooms in your chest. You havenât let yourself feel it, not since that first night. Itâs almost addictive now, like water in a desert. You stop yourself just before you start scooping mouthfuls with your bare palms.Â
âI canâtââ
âPlease,â he whispers. Itâs not an argument now. Not a debate. Heâs begging you.Â
And thatâs what does it. Unties the last knot of your resistance. Â
Youâre quiet for a moment longer, and thenâ
âOkay,â you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. Jay keeps his gaze forward, but you watch a flicker of relief ghost across his features.Â
âI have two conditions,â he tells you.Â
Itâs so like him, you think. To get his way and then ask for more.Â
âYouâre really gonna push it? I could change my mind, you know.â But you wonât. Not when youâve already tasted water from the oasis. Not when hope is already curling deep within you. Not when you could live.Â
Jay calls your bluff, too. âFirst, you tell your family.â
âButââ
âIt doesnât have to be right now,â he adds. âBut within three days.â
You want to argue, to protest. But theyâll want to come see me. Theyâll have to take time off work, away from the restaurant. And the transportation costs will be too high.Â
Jay beats you to it. âIâll cover any related costs that you let me. Iâll help you hide it, too. Pretend itâs part of a donation program or a special fund for university students.âÂ
Itâs generous. Itâs so terribly considerate that it makes your head spin. You canât linger on it too long without feeling uncomfortable.Â
Instead, you say, âFine. Whatâs the other condition?â
âYour bucket list.â Jay nods to your purse that rests on your lap. You realize he must have returned it while you were unconscious, the list you accidentally gave him last night. âYou still spend the next three months checking everything off.â
âWhat?â you frown. You werenât expecting that. âWhy?â
âTreatment is hope,â he explains. âNot a guarantee. You took the time to write it, so you should see it through.â
Part of you hesitates. If youâre really going to do this, if youâre really going to live, then youâll need every last penny youâve saved. Sunoo will need it. Your parents will need it.Â
But you suppose you can take a sleeper train to the beach to avoid hotel costs and find some old convertible with a cheap rental fee to drive around for an hour. And kissing a stranger doesnât exactly cost anything.Â
Suddenly, the thought of Jay reading that particular list item has heat rising in your cheeks. Itâs probably too much to pray heâs forgotten about it.Â
But youâve left enough of your pride in his car and at his feet.Â
For a moment, you imagine what this feels like for him. What it would be like to give out such an impossible amount of money so easily. To have a father that gives ultimatums that could change the trajectory of his entire future in an instant.Â
And then you think of you. Of the simple truth youâve been dodging and denying and ducking from since reality slapped you across the face a week ago.Â
You donât want to die.Â
You think of that little girl. The one who wanted to be an astronaut, a lawyer, a singer. She wouldnât want you to die, either.Â
And like Jay said, this isnât a guarantee. But it is hope.Â
For you. For Sunoo. For your parents. For her. Maybe, you think, even for Park Jongseong, who's been slowly edging further and further past the speed limit for the last five minutes.Â
âOkay,â you tell him, looking out at the buildings you pass. You still donât know most of them, but thereâs another word there now, and it makes all the difference.Â
Yet.Â
You donât know most of them yet.Â
So you seal your fate with one last word. âDeal.â
â.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ëâ.Ë⥠àŁȘ Ë
TO BE CONTINUED...
God, you're so annoying - Yang Jungwon
"Just take it, will you?"
ââââàšà§ââââ
Genre --> academic rivals, high school, childhood friends
Summary --> -Jungwon has been the perfect student, son, and class president since the start of middle school. His vice president, y/n, had always lost by one vote. Now that high school has started for the two of them, Jungwon begins to realise his determined vice president has fallen behind, losing her spark day by day. He doesn't even realise it, until he finds himself missing her ever-annoying presence. -
ââââàšà§ââââ
Whenever y/n saw Yang Jungwon pass by in the hallways, she couldn't hide her frustration. It was in his perfect posture, smug face, and broad shoulders that did it. Not once did Jungwon seem intimidated by her. His position had remained the same for all the fourteen years she had known him, the only president her class had ever known.
And, her?
Always second to Jungwon.
She was nothing but Jungwon's vice president. When, Jungwon was sick, she was the replacement. When Jungwon had important taekwondo tournaments, she was the replacement.
And after over a decade of trying, she couldn't take it any longer.
The summer before high school began, y/n had a plan in mind. A "social experiment" - thatâs what she told herself. Although she knew deep down it was just her pathetic self burning out.Â
It would start off with coming to school late (which, she never had in all her years of school), then missing assignments (that she had to train herself not to reach for and complete), and then refusing to study.Â
Bringing her to the horrid situation she was placed in now. Y/n sat in awe at the modest little numbers â89%â on the most recent math test. An A-. How sweet, she thought.Â
Instead of crying over a careless mistake that had her one mark off from a hundred, whilst Jungwon stood unfazed, handing his perfect paper properly back to the teacher, she smiled.
She could feel the strain in her cheeks as she kept the smile up. Just one more week. After this semester, Iâll be better than ever. This is just a test. Itâs a calculated experiment, I swear.Â
She stood up calmly and walked towards the teacherâs desk. Preparing herself for whatever disappointed comment she would receive for her newest grade.
Jungwon stood behind her - waiting to hand back his paper as well.Â
"Mr. Perfect probably got a hundred again" - she muttered to herself.Â
 He stood confidently tall, paying zero attention to the fuming girl in-front of him.Â
âY/n this is the first time in a while! Even the class average was a 90. This is not the grades a vice president should be achieving. Have you not been sleeping well? I can see your eyebagsâŠâÂ
âI have missâŠâÂ
She knew Mrs Park was old, but she may have well screamed it in the morning announcements. The same broadcasting club that Jungwon had been the captain of. How irritating.
She winced in embarrassment, and walked back towards her seat. Just as she rolled out her chair, a gentle tug on her blazer sleeve stopped her. Turning around she faced,Â
Yang Jungwon.
Looking down on me again - arenât you?
âWhat happened?â His eyes narrowed in genuine curiosity.
âNothing, I guess I just didnât tryâ y/n snapped back at the boy.
âYou? Not trying? Thatâs a firstâ he scoffed turning his head away, before leaving the class with his friends.
And, he didnât say another word.Â
Y/n clenched her fists like a child having a tantrum.
Why does he always have to have the last word? And, why is it so hot in here? Did Mrs Park lose the ac remote again??Â
âY/n come on, you can blush over your boyfriend later.â Ella screamed from outside a window.
Taking off her jacket, y/n rushed out the door in a hurry. Speaking to herself like an idiot.
Hah. Yang jungwon? Never in a billion years would that guy be my boyfriend. Heâs so proud and smart and-
Her thoughts were cut off by the overwhelming noise of the cafeteria.Â
Why else?
Certainly not because of the awkward eye contact she had made with him, whilst he sat with his friends.Â
The day had gone by quicker than expected in y/n's mind. When you spend all your time resisting the urge to raise your hand it tends to go by even faster.
Guess I don't need to go to table tennis club today. Great. I don't have to witness Jungown win every match for the whole hour either.
She took out her phone with a sigh. Only to see,
"Sweety, can you take the bus today? The car's broken again." : from Dad <3
Oh. It's starting to rain though. And its cold. Where the hell did I leave my blazer now??
Y/n ran back and forth between the hallways, in search of her jacket. Only when she noticed how dark the sky had gotten, she realised there would be nothing worth waiting for at the bus stop.
And, she was right.
She sat in despair.
No jacket? No car? No phone battery. What am I gonna do with my life. Hopless, she hung her head low.
"Nice to see you too." Jungwon cocked his head to the side. A knowing grin plastered on his face,
"Late again, are you y/n?"
"Shut up." Y/n turned away, scrunching up her face in annoyance.
He sat down calmly next to her, watching the raindrops slowly increase. "I would, but you'd be bored then. and your dumbass is just gonna keep whining like usual, and wait for your imaginary bus."
Y/n couldn't really collect her thoughts. She envied how carefree his life was. Naturally gifted. How nice would that be? Must be nice to have a jacket in this weather as well. I bet he he has his driver to come pick him up too. Spoiled.
She turned her head to look at him.
"Where's your chauffer?"
Jungwon laughed, shaking his head, he handed her his bus ticket.
"Oh." Y/n's ears flushed with embarassment.
Thought I knew him at least a little bit...
Even in the now downpour, an old lady emerged from beside the dimly lit bus stop, pushing a trolley of mangoes. For it was Spring.
Without even thinking, Y/n ran quickly towards the lady in the pouring rain.
"Auntie! Aunte!! Please wait."
The lady swiveled her head towards the young school girl, her eyes lighting up.
"One mango please!" Y/n took a quick glance at Jungwon, who had ironically taken "a quick glance" at her too, before changing her request. "Actually, two will do. Thank you!"
She waved the lady goodbye, letting her keep the change, before running back towards the bench. Only to see Jungwon finding the roof of the bus stop incredibly fascinating.
"Nice weather up there?"
She was met with no words. Instead, a blazer was sternly shoved in her face.
Jungwon cleared his throat. "Please take it."
"Why?"
"God, you're so annoying. Just take it, will you? I'm being serious."
Not until then, did Y/n decided to look down at her bright pink bra on full display, underneath her drenched (practically transparant) white blouse.
"Uh-", she reached for the blazer without any further questions.
They sat in silence for the next five minutes, giving Y/n just the right amount of time to reflect on the incident that had just occured.
Monotonously, she handed Jungwon a mango.
"Here. If u wanna eat it now, I have an extra spoon in my lunchbox,"
Jungwon had taken it, but couldn't utter the words "Thank you." To him, he felt it was unnecessary with Y/n to do so.
Y/n didn't expect one either. She sat back in her seat, took out her spoon and began eating the mango herself, comfortable in the warmth of his large blazer.
"I'm good. I'll save it for later."
Still digging into the fresh yellow flesh with her spoon she mumbled, "I actually hate mangoes."
"Who?" Jungwoon sneered
"What?"
"Asked." He stared at her shoes, trying to hold his laughter like a fool. Only Y/n could mess up Jungwonâs poised composure.
"Wow. Mr. Perfect has jokes now huh?" she mocked, rolling her eyes.
"But why eat it then?" he observed her childish behaviour.
"Can't avoid the things you don't like all the time. Can you? Plus, I just felt bad."
"Is that why you aren't avoiding me?" he asked innocently.
"You really are a pain in the ass, Yang Jungwon." she sighed.
"I missed you, you know?" he whispered, as though he were talking to himself.
Y/n stopped having a go at the mango - just to process his words.
"What was that?"
He coughed, flustered. "What I meant was, I missed having competition. Class is so boring without someone worth competing with. So, what happened?"
"I already told you. Nothing." she avoided Jungwon's persistant eyes. Hiding her reddening face.
"Then stop ignoring me, stupid. Come back." Jungwon took out his phone, calling a taxi driver he had trusted. "There, she's here now."
"Who?" Y/n raised her eyebrows, concerned.
"Your taxi driver. She's a woman. You'll be safe. I know her," Jungwon casually said.
"Good to have female connections. Right Jungwon?" She found it hard to ignore the bubbling jealously rising in her heart.
Get a hold of yourself Y/n. Why do you even care? He literally just called a taxi for you.
"She's my cousin, relax. You're cute when you're jealous." He laughed, pointing towards the small white Honda. âAnd she's here now. Say hi to her for me."
"I hate you." Unsure of what to say, Y/n grabbed her things before getting in the car.
"Love you too," Jungwon replied softly, gazing at her blazer, which he had forgotten to return folded neatly in his bag.
we genuinely need to boycott belift. We need to stop streaming on all platforms to make sure their sales and profit drop as much as possible. if we truly want belift to be affected by us, protests arenât gonna be enough. letâs completely boycott belift.
#bringheeseungback
#enhypenis7
I will forever be in denial

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had to come out of hiding because heeseung left enhypen⊠more like he was kicked out of the group. that being the first thing i saw before going to school ruined my day. i thought everything was just a joke until i searched up enhypen during class and saw â6-membered groupâ and âformer member: lee heeseungâ i started crying uncontrollably and have been since.
enhypen is 7 and will always be 7. heeseung didnât deserve to be kicked out just for wanting to pursue solo activities. in his letter he said something about following what the company wanted, meaning this was not his decision. hybe has so many groups with members who have gone a pursued their solo careers without leaving the group, so why is it different when it comes to heeseung and enhypen?? i donât know how the boys feel about this but i know theyâre not feeling happy.
belift this is not want anyone wants, making heeseung leave the group to go solo isnât going to benefit anybody. BRING BACK HEESEUNG, ENHYPEN IS FOREVER 7.
sign this petition:
Allow Heeseung to Pursue Solo Activities Without Leaving ENHYPEN
TO ALL ENGENES!
please do not scroll, this is a very important message that ALL ENGENES must do if we want heeseung back.
as most of you might know, heeseung has "decided" to leave the group to focus on his solo career. BUT, this is not true.
heeseung DID NOT decide to leave the group, he was forced to. he was apparently seen crying and "crashing out" in a hybe hallway which CLEARLY shows it was not his decision. to add on, just a few days ago he was speaking about the world tour coming up, and participating in activities and events LIKE NORMAL. it was be so weird just for him to leave like that.
ENGENE, we are a team. we can bring heeseung back. for example, MARK FROM NCT. he left the group exactly like this but came back due to the FANS PROTESTS. WE CAN DO THIS FOR HEESEUNG ASWELL! PLEASE DO THIS SO OUR HEE CAN COME BACK.
THIS IS NOT FAIR! OTHER ARTISTS LIKE: YEJI FROM ITZY, TWICE MEMBERS, TXT MEMBERS, BTS MEMBERS AND MANY MORE ARTISTS ARE ALLOWED TO PURSUE THEIR SOLO CAREER WHILE BEING IN A GROUP. BUT NOT HEESEUNG??
we all call for heeseung's return while ALLOWING HIM THE FREEDOM TO PURSUE HIS SOLO CAREER.
ENHYPEN WILL ALWAYS BE SEVEN!
SEVEN OR NOTHING!
please reblog to spread awareness!!
by @jjwoned đ€
random tags to BOOST @wonsoire @ikeu05 @chrrific @nmurark05 @kittyhoon @miauumin @atashiboba @ningningiloveumarryme @jaysguitarstring @ki2rins @soona-huh @par4disee @mqytcha @jazz7gnab @gyuuchuuu @saturn-files @koiiq @teddybeartaetae @firstdivisiongirl @yufawnz @ohjjongstby @jcngwonz @wonirio @rikisloverrr @stars4kooo @iiunique @tokyomxnstr @zoe1love
hi my loves,
i know iâve been gone for a while, and iâm really sorry about that. the past few months have honestly been a lot for me. health issues came first, and on top of that university has been absolutely beating my ass in the most unforgiving way possible.
but right now, i genuinely cannot stay quiet.
iâve seen everything thatâs been happening regarding heeseung, and whether this decision came directly from belift or whether heeseung himself had a hand in it, the reasoning simply does not connect or make sense with everything we have seen these past few weeks.
heeseung has been visibly happy during recent promotions. he has been excited, talking about wanting to spend more time with engenes, looking forward to what comes next. nothing about his recent appearances suggested someone preparing to step away from the group or the stage he worked so hard to stand on.
i have been an engene since their i-land days. i remember voting with every email account i owned just to support heeseung because even back then his passion was undeniable. the way he spoke about becoming an idol, the way he carried himself through the show, and the love he clearly had for performing made me want to see him succeed. watching him debut and grow alongside the members of enhypen was something i will always cherish.
and as a heeseung stan, i have watched him grow into someone incredibly talented and deeply passionate about what he does. over the years weâve seen how hard he works, how much he pours into his performances, his music, and the people around him. seeing that kind of dedication is something you donât just walk away from as a fan. i will not give up on heeseung, and i will never even consider losing him without a fight.
heeseung is not just âa member.â he is the oldest. he is the one the others lean on when things get heavy. he is someone jungwon has openly gone to for guidance and comfort. he is the voice that carries so many of their songs and the one that stabilizes the group when things become overwhelming. enhypen shines because all seven of them shine together.
i will never forget that moment in i-land when the seven of them were in the kitchen together before the final lineup was even announced. at the time it felt like coincidence, but looking back it truly felt like fate. those seven standing there together before anyone even knew what the final group would be moments like that are why so many of us believe so strongly in this group as seven.
which is exactly why this sudden situation feels confusing and concerning. heeseung has had no scandals, no controversies, nothing that would logically lead to such an abrupt decision. and with an upcoming performance in australia this week, the timing only raises more questions. something about the situation simply does not feel right, and as someone who has supported him and this group for years, i cannot pretend otherwise.
i want to be clear about something though: this is not about spreading hate, panic, or attacking anyone. i am saying this because i care deeply about heeseung, about enhypen, and about the community that has supported them since the beginning.
as writers, fans, and supporters, we also carry responsibility in how we speak about situations like this. but caring about professionalism does not mean staying silent when something feels wrong.
heeseung has been someone iâve looked up to for years. his dedication, humility, and love for music have inspired countless people, including me. and i know i am not the only engene who feels this way. we are not ready to give him up, and honestly, i donât think we ever will be.
because enhypen has always been seven.
and enhypen will never truly feel complete without lee heeseung.
Heeseung baby its not april first, its daylight savings u silly gooseeđđđđđ
DARE me not ââââ âč sjy
"I dare you to kiss me and keep it in your pants...hah! Get off me loserâ"
vol 9 . â Y/n swears no one compares to Park Sunghoon. The campus heartthrob, department topper, and possibly her guardian angel. Her world spins on his orbit. Jake swears he canât stand Y/n. Sheâs awkward, invisible, always leaving curly hair in his textbooks. He'd rather share a class with Tora, his flawless senior crush. Amongst the push and pull of unsaid words and obviously said insults they find their life getting tangled in bizarre way.
đ§§ àŁȘÖž đ§”Ęà»Öčà»ÖșÖœ rom-com, angst, coming of age, enemies to lovers, college chaos, one-sided crushes, accidental friendship
note: I LOVE JAKE SM MWAH MWAH MWAHHGHCB
Y/n didnât ask to fall in love with Park Sunghoon.
He just⊠kind of glowed. Even under those hideous fluorescent hallway lights, he looked like he walked out of a K-drama with pink aura, flower petals falling on him and was about to change someone's life with a smirk and a backhug. It was criminal, honestly.
She always walked three steps behind him on campus â not literally, but emotionally. Her eyes trailed him like a soft background music she couldnât turn off. Hands busy to press down the disobedient folds of her unironed clothes, running fingers through her unruly coiled brown hair, trying to pull them to a more simpler straight form, biting her chapped lips and hoping if he ever turns around he would look at her big brown eyes and not the pre pubescent acne scars all over her cheeks.
He laughs and she looks up. He fixes his sleeves and she adjusts her breath. He sneezes once in the cafeteria and she, a devout atheist, thanks God.
Every day, Sunghoon nodded at her when she passed him by the vending machine. She lived for those nods.
âCan you stop staring at him like youâre writing Wattpad chapters in your head?â a voice muttered from her left. She didnât even flinch it was always him. Jake Sim. The resident campus know it all, emotional cactus, and king of side eyes.
He was currently glaring at her like heâd just set his thesis on fire. Meh whatever.
âI wasnât staring,â she whispered, straightening in her seat. âI was looking through him. Big difference.â
Jake scoffed. âYou were drooling.â
She clutched your notebook, cheeks warm. âThatâs just how I breathe.â
He muttered something under his breath, something with the words âhopelessâ and âloserâ in it. Jake sat diagonally behind her in class, but he made his presence very known. Every time she tripped on a chair or dropped her pen, she could feel his judgy laser beam eyes burning through her skull.
She was pretty sure he hated her. He was the only person who borrowed books from the library before they were assigned. He always had a pen in his hand, three tucked behind his ear, and he once asked the professor to recheck a paper because he got a 97.
Jake Sim was not normal.
But even he wasn't immune.
Because every time Tora walked into the lecture hall, second year, ethereal, angel of a kind. Jake turned into static.
She noticed it the first time Tora waved at someone across the room. Jake, who had been scribbling equations like his life depended on it, dropped his pen and didnât even pick it up for a full five seconds.
Then, he turned crimson.
Y/n was stunned. Jake Sim, the emotionally unavailable nerd with the personality of a sock... blushed...?!
One day she couldn't keep quiet anymore and asked, âDo you like her or are you just clinically allergic to good looking people?â
Jake gave her a 'are you serious?' Look at her while adjusting his glasses. âIâd rather dissect my own brain with a spoon than explain anything to you.â
Classic.
Still, he had this very specific habit of fixing his hair every time Tora entered the room, so like⊠okay, sir. Youâre not subtle either.
The first time Jake noticed y/n, she was untangling her headphones like it was a life or death situation. It was during one of those 9 AM lectures, where half of the class still smelled like sleep and the other half faked alertness with caffeine and borrowed notes. Jake, of course, sat at his usual spot, second row from the front, near the window, precisely five feet away from the only functioning plug point in the room. He had his laptop open, his glasses fogged from the humidity outside, and a new pimple forming under his jaw. Life was great.
And then there was her.
In the back row, left side. Hair like curly alphabet noodles spilling out of a careless ponytail, wearing a too big hoodie with a fraying cuff she kept picking at. Her face was mostly hidden behind books and the hood she tried to disappear into. Most people wouldnât notice her.
He did.
Not because he wanted to. He just kept finding her hair.
There was a strand on his desk last week. Another stuck in the Velcro of his pencil pouch. One had somehow landed on his mechanical keyboard. He had theories. Maybe she shed like a cat. Maybe the wind liked her hair more than it liked gravity. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was playing a cosmic joke on him.
He noticed, to her , Park Sunghoon was a walking sonnet. A poem in a pressed white shirt and neat handwriting.
She was, quite tragically in a coma.
Jake saw all this. The stolen glances. The quick head turns. The pathetic heart eyes she made at Sunghoon when she thought no one was watching. He wasnât judging her. Okay â maybe a little. She just seemed so... awkward. Always tripping on her own shoes or spilling tea on her sleeves. And then sitting in silence like a background character who wasnât sure if she had lines.
Jake didnât dislike her. But he didnât particularly like her either.
His attention was currently reserved for one person and one person only, Tora Choi.
Tora, the senior with the swanlike grace and poetic presence. She was always seen in floral tops, nude lipstick and blush blindness suited her. She read in the cafeteria. Voluntarily. She walked like the hallway belonged to her. Her voice had that musical lull of someone who probably spoke French at some point in her life.
Jake, who could barely remember to apply sunscreen, was hopelessly smitten. And every time Tora passed by their class, Jake transformed into a crash dummy blinking too much, straightening his hoodie, then immediately regretting straightening his hoodie. He was a wreck. A nerdy, overthinking, emotionally constipated wreck. One time, Tora had smiled in his direction. Jake had to go drink two bottles of cold water and recalibrate his breathing patterns.
So no, Jake did not have time for some hoodie-wearing backbencher who got nervous around her own shadow. And yet, there she was again, trying to open her juice box without spilling it across her notebook. He rolled his eyes so hard, he almost pulled a muscle.
Jake turned his gaze downward. He needed to stop doing this. Acting like a fool every time Tora acknowledged his existence. Theyâd known each other for years. She lived two houses down. They shared the same school bus in middle school. She once gave him cookies after a bad test. And yet, here he was, fully prepared to faint like a 19th century heroine at the sound of her voice.
âAlright,â Professor Lim said, finally entering the room with his usual stack of unreasonably annotated papers. âLetâs begin.â
Class moved slowly. Something about Plato and false narratives and truth within fiction. Y/N scribbled furiously, her wrist moving like a motor. Jake side eyed her again. It was like watching someone take notes for the entire student body. And it was annoying how she didnât even blink when the professor cold called her.
âY/n,â the senior professor drawled, pushing his glasses up. âYou look like youâre writing a thesis on this. Tell me, what did Plato mean by the allegory of the cave?â
She froze. The room did not.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then stuttered out, âUm, itâsâitâs about like, uh, shadows? And reality not being real?â
Someone snorted in the back. Jake didnât even need to turn to know it was probably the Huening twins. They always laughed the loudest at things that werenât funny. Professor Lim smiled. Not kindly.
âHow poetic. Truly. Shadows and reality andâwhat, dreams? Fascinating. For someone who apparently studies fourteen hours a day, I was expecting an actual answer.â
That got a laugh. A ripple across the classroom.
Jake winced.
Y/n ducked her head. Her curls framed her face, hiding the worst of the blow, but her ears were red. Crimson, actually. âSit down,â the professor said, dismissively. âSunghoon?â
Park Sunghoon stood up and delivered an articulate, practically textbook-perfect explanation. Of course he did. People clapped, even though no one was supposed to clap in this class. She did not lift her head.
Jake looked away, annoyed.
People like her were always weird about things. Cry in the bathroom, write poems in margins. Talk to pigeons. I bet anything she would write some cringe journal entry about this later with lines like âI bloomed like a wound in a world that hated weeds.â
God.
The period ended, and everyone began to shuffle out. Jake packed his things slowly, even as the class emptied. A part of him expected her to run, awkward girls always ran. But she didnât. Y/n stayed glued to the chair, head ducked, fingers twitching at the hem of her sleeves. He watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked like a kicked dog.
A pathetic part of him wanted to feel something. Empathy maybe. Guilt. Even annoyance. But the only thing he felt was second hand embarrassment.
It made him want to walk faster just in case someone thought he might talk to her.
So he left.
Y/n looked at her shoes.
She always did. The world was easier to handle when it was reduced to soles and laces. Faces were harder. They held too many judgments, too many half-hidden sneers and raised brows. She didnât stop walking until she reached the back staircase, the one nobody used much. It always smelled faintly of wet cement and the occasional cigarette. Here, she let her body fold against the wall, backpack slipping off her shoulder. It wasnât the first time something like this had happened.
It wouldnât be the last.
But that didnât make it hurt less.
Y/n didnât move from the back staircase for a while. The quiet was comfortable here, the hum of distant footsteps, the faint scent of damp concrete, the occasional echo from the hallway above. She could almost convince herself the rest of the world didnât exist.
Almost.
When she finally pushed herself up and started toward the courtyard, voices drifted to her before she saw anyone. Laughter, high and light, like sunlight through a glass of water. She turned the corner and there they were. Tora stood in the middle of a loose circle of classmates, her shoulders slightly hunched in that modest way that somehow made her seem even softer. The light caught on her hair, turning it into strands of gold, and her lips shone with a faint, warm pink gloss. The color looked effortless, as if it had been made for her, the way flowers are made for spring.
Tora laughed at something one of the boys said, tilting her head, her voice carrying like a breeze.
She slowed her steps without meaning to. For a few moments, the noise around her faded, and she let herself slip into the kind of daydream she usually kept for late at night. If she had Toraâs gloss...that exact shade of dreamy pink would it make any difference? Would people look at her differently? Would they stop seeing her as the awkward, clumsy thing that tripped over her own sentences? She pressed her lips together lightly, then touched them with the tips of her fingers, as if testing the thought.
It was silly. Lip gloss couldnât change bone structure or erase the history of every humiliation sheâd collected. But stillâŠ
The sound of Toraâs laugh broke her trance, and she turned quickly, heading in the opposite direction before anyone could notice her lingering.
Exams crept closer like a slow moving storm, and with them came the strange transformation of the library. It became the campusâ unofficial capital. Every table claimed, books, matcha drinks , colorful highlighters scattered, every chair dragged into formation, the air heavy with the scent of paper and stress. Jake spent most of his days here now, his textbooks spread out like battle plans. He wasnât the kind of student to normally invite company, but exam season brought a shift. People came to him for notes, for summaries, for diagrams, for the condensed wisdom of someone who actually paid attention in lectures. It stroked something in him, that small spark of pride. He liked the way they leaned over his notes, the way they asked questions in hushed voices, the way they looked at him like he was the difference between passing and failing.
He didnât like, however, that Y/n was here too.
Every day, without fail, she sat at the table directly across from him.
It wasnât like she was copying him or trying to talk. She never even looked up. But the fact that she stayed there, head bent over her books like she had any hope of understanding them, grated at him in some small, inexplicable way.
Jake figured that if anyone in this building needed notes, it would be her. She seemed like the type of student whoâd take one look at an exam paper and forget everything sheâd studied. And yet, she never asked. Not once.
It was almost offensive.
Did she think she didnât need his help? Or was she just too awkward to ask? Either way, it didnât make her look smarter. In Jakeâs mind, it made her even more clueless than heâd thought.
By late afternoon, the library began to empty. People packed up their things in waves, leaving behind a faint, dusty silence. By five oâclock, only a handful of students remained. Jake was deep in his notes when he realized it had gotten too quiet. He glanced up and immediately paused. Y/n had slumped forward, her cheek resting against the crook of her arm, the edges of her notebook pressed beneath her. Her mouth hung slightly open, a tiny smudge of drool glistening in the corner.
Jakeâs lips twitched before he could stop himself. A quiet snicker slipped out.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her. In sleep, the tension she carried like armor had fallen away. The curls that had been tied back this morning were now coming undone, framing her face in messy spirals. The late afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden light across her skin. It softened her, made her glow in a way he hadnât noticed before. His eyes lingered on her cheeks, rounder than heâd realized, dusted faintly pink. For some absurd reason, he felt the urge to pinch them. He stopped fidgeting is pencil and caught off guard by the thought.
Before he could decide whether to act on it, she stirred. Maybe it was the weight of his stare or the faint scrape of his chair, but her eyelids fluttered open.
Her eyes met his.
Jake froze.
Up close, they werenât the dull brown heâd lazily assumed from across the table. They were deep, warm, flecked with something lighter a kind of amber that caught the sunlight like liquid. For a split second, the air between them shifted, like someone had pulled a string taut.
Her expression flickered from confusion to alarm. She sat up abruptly, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeve. âIâsorry,â she said, voice low, as if sheâd done something wrong by existing in his line of sight.
Before Jake could think of anything to say, she was already stuffing her notes into her bag. Her movements were quick, jerky, like she couldnât get away fast enough.
He watched her walk out, the library door swinging shut behind her.
For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the spot sheâd left empty. Then he realized his heartbeat was the only thing he could hear now.
Y/n rarely went to the mall.
The polished floors, air-conditioned coolness, and distant hum of chatter felt oddly comforting. But malls were for people who knew what they were doing, who walked with purpose, who knew which store sold the best lip gloss or where to find the perfect shade of blush. And she was definitely not one of those people. Still, here she was, standing in front of the largest display of lip products sheâd ever seen in her life. Rows upon rows of tubes glistened under the warm studio lights pinks, reds, browns, corals, sheens, mattes, shimmers. Each one looked like it had been made for someone else, someone who knew how to choose.
Her fingers hovered over a pale peach shade before she quickly withdrew them. She didnât even know what âundertonesâ meant. It wasnât like she hated makeup, or was too lazy to try, she justâŠ. never had anyone to guide her. Tutorials online always felt like they were in another language.
She was so caught up in the silent war between her curiosity and insecurity that she didnât notice the tall figure walking toward her until she bumped into him.
âOhâ sorryââ she mumbled, stepping back.
âY/n?â
Her head snapped up. Park Sunghoon stood there, holding a small gift bag. His sharp features softened into a polite smile, and just like that, her brain promptly stopped working. âSâSunghoon⊠hi,â she stammered, her voice a pitch too high.
Before she could recover, another voice cut in. âOh, itâs you.â
Jang Wonyoung appeared from behind him, glossy hair cascading over her shoulders like sheâd stepped straight out of a commercial. She wasnât smiling exactly, her lips were curved, but it was the kind of sweetness that stung.
âWhatâs a nerd like you doing here?â Wonyoungâs tone was light, teasing, but the edge was sharp enough to draw blood. âFinally thinking about a glow-up?â
Y/n felt her face burn. She gave a small, awkward laugh, trying to shrink into herself. But then⊠an idea.
Maybe this was her chance âUm⊠actually, I was looking for a lip gloss,â she admitted, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. âDo you think⊠you could help me pick one?â
Wonyoung blinked, clearly not expecting her to ask. Her gaze slid briefly to Sunghoon, who was distracted, scanning a rack of accessories nearby. With a faint shrug, she pointed lazily toward a tube on the far end of the shelf , a bright, almost blinding shade of fuchsia.
âThis one,â she said absently, already turning away.
Y/n didnât know much about makeup, but she knew that shade probably wasnât for her. Still, the idea that Wonyoung, tall, radiant, effortlessly beautiful Wonyoung had chosen it made her chest swell with something close to pride. âIâll take it,â she murmured, clutching the tube like it was a secret key to some prettier, better version of herself.
Sunghoon turned back then, a small box now in his hand. âBirthday gift for my sister,â he explained casually to Y/n, his voice warm. It made her throat tighten.
âthatâs so nice,â she replied, and she meant it. But Wonyoung was already stepping forward, looping her arm through his. âWe should get going,â she announced, her tone lighter now. âDonât want to be late.â
Late for what? Y/n wondered. A date? The thought made her stomach twist, even though she knew Sunghoon was probably just being polite. Before she could say anything else, Wonyoung gave her one last honeyed smile the kind that didnât reach her eyes and steered Sunghoon away.
She stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space theyâd left behind. Then, with the kind of fragile happiness that blooms from the smallest scraps, she walked to the counter and bought the gloss Wonyoung had chosen.
She imagined herself wearing it tomorrow, maybe catching Sunghoonâs attention in the hallway. Maybe heâd notice. Maybe heâd smile. Clutching the tiny shopping bag like it held something far more precious than a tube of lip gloss, she made her way home, her heart just a little lighter than when sheâd left.
Jake lay sprawled across his bed, one arm flung over his eyes, the other holding his phone loosely. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the AC, but his mind wouldnât shut up.
It was her again. Stupid curls, boring acne scared chubby cheeks. Dumb Y/n.
Those big brown eyes of hers, wide, unguarded, that seemed to hold onto everything and nothing at once had been stuck in his head ever since that afternoon in the library. And it wasnât the first time she was terrorising his consciousness.
He remembered the first time heâd noticed her, though he would never admit it to anyone. It was months ago, when heâd opened his physics textbook and found a few stray strands of curly hair tangled between the pages. She had been sitting at the desk before him that day, and somehow, that tiny trace of her had followed him home. Heâd tossed the hair away, but the image stuck.
Then there were the stupid games his classmates played. Heeseung and Jay once teased each other over a lost bet, saying the punishment would be kissing Y/n. The way they laughed, loud, careless had made something in Jake twist uncomfortably, though heâd masked it with a smirk. He never knew why he was always there when she was getting clowned on. Always in the background, watching like a default backgroundcharacter. Like the universe was making sure he saw it every time.
Y/n was⊠ridiculous. Clumsy, socially awkward, stuck in her head more than the real world. Stupid. Dumb. Weird. He told himself that a lot, like a shield. Because why would she have a crush on someone like Park Sunghoon?
Jake knew for a fact Sunghoon didnât care about her. The guy barely looked at her in the hallways. And yet, every time Jake caught Y/n gazing at Sunghoon with that soft, almost stupid smile that said she was somewhere far away in her head, something hot and ugly flared in his chest. It made him want to shake her and yell, No one cares. He doesnât care. Stop looking at him like that.
But that would mean admitting he cared.
And somewhere, deep under all the annoyance, he understood her. Because Jake was a nobody too. He only admitted it when he was alone, but it was the truth. He wasnât the guy girls like Tora noticed. She was too far out of his reach, and he knew it. Thatâs why heâd always turn around before entering the same room as her, easier to avoid the humiliation than face it.
So maybe thatâs why Y/n bothered him so much. There was something reckless in the way she still dared to dream about someone like Sunghoon. Something he couldnât do. And every time he saw her try even silently, even just with her eyes â it reminded him of how much of a coward he was.
His fragile ego hated that. So he did what he was best at, he cursed her in his head, turned her into a joke. It made him feel like he was the one in control.
Except now, lying in the dim glow of his bedroom, he wasnât so sure he had control over anything.
Because why the hell was he thinking about her again? Why was it her face replaying in his mind and not Toraâs?
A thought crept in, uninvited, unsteady. Do I⊠like her?
Jake sat up abruptly, as if that would make the thought fall out of his head. He grabbed the AC remote and dropped the temperature from twenty four to sixteen, the cold air hitting him sharp and fast. Still, his skin felt warm. Too warm. He reached for his phone, fingers tapping before he could think about it
' can you like 2 girls at once '
The search results were instant, a flood of half baked answers and random forum threads. Some were serious long paragraphs about âemotional compatibilityâ and âdifferentiating infatuation from genuine affection.â Others were⊠not.
One comment caught his eye
' kiss one of them and find out lol, good luck bro '
He scoffed under his breath but for some reason, the words didnât leave his head. Instead, his mind supplied an image he hadnât asked for: leaning in toward Y/n, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, close enough toâ
Jake froze.
It was like his brain had defaulted to her, skipping past Tora entirely. The image was so clear, so vivid, that his chest tightened and heat crept up the back of his neck.
What the hell?
His body felt suddenly restless, energy sparking through his limbs. He shoved his face into his pillow and let out a muffled, frustrated groan. The cold air from the AC blasted over him, but it didnât matter. His skin still burned. He pulled the pillow away, staring up at the ceiling like it might give him an answer.
âWhat the fuck am I doing?â
The next morning, Y/n walked into campus with a thin layer of glossy pink shimmering on her lips. At least, it was supposed to be pink on her, it looked a little off. Too pale, almost like sheâd just eaten something greasy and forgot to wipe her mouth. A couple of girls near the gates noticed instantly. They leaned toward each other, trying to stifle their laughter, their voices pitched low but not low enough.
âIs she serious?â
âItâs⊠not her shade.â
âPoor thing.â
They werenât being cruel exactly, if anything, their tone carried a hint of pity but Y/n still felt the sting. She walked past them with her usual downward gaze, eyes fixed on the ground, hands gripping the strap of her bag.
Still, she kept the gloss on.
She even timed her route to pass the bench where Sunghoon usually sat before first lecture. Sure enough, there he was, leaning back casually, scrolling through his phone. Her heart rate picked up, her fingers twitching at her sides. She tilted her chin just enough for the light to catch on her lips, waiting for him to glance up.
He didnât.
Not even a flicker of his gaze in her direction.
Her chest tightened. She kept walking.
It wasnât until she reached the corridor that someone elseâs attention caught her off guard.
Jake.
He was leaning against the wall near the library entrance, arms crossed, his gaze flicking toward her as she passed. For a moment, she thought sheâd imagined it but no, he was looking right at her mouth. Her lips to be exact...
That looks so ugly, Jake grimaced, the words sharp in his head.
But even as he told himself that, his eyes lingered longer than they should. He didnât know why. Something about it â about her looked different. Wrong shade or not, it was still a change. And not in a bad way.
By the time Y/n sat down in the library later that day, sheâd mostly forgotten about him noticing. It was the same as every other afternoon she took the seat across from Jake, opened her books, and they didnât speak. They never spoke. Until he cleared his throat.
She looked up, startled, her brows knitting slightly. âThat shade looks hideous on you,â Jake said flatly, not bothering to soften the words.
There was no flicker of offense in her face. No glare, no muttered insult in return. Instead, Y/nâs eyes softened into something almost apologetic, big, round, and too trusting. Without saying a word, she dug into her bag, pulled out a tissue, and began wiping the gloss off.
Jake blinked in disbelief.
âYouâre just⊠gonna take it off?â he asked, almost incredulous. She gave a small sheepish shrug. âI knew it didnât look good. I just⊠wanted Sunghoon to notice.â
Her voice was quiet, matter of fact. Not even embarrassed, just⊠honest. Jake leaned back in his chair, staring at her for a moment. Was she actually this dense? Or just that straightforward? Either way, it made his chest feel weird. He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. âI know someone who can help you. With makeup, I mean.â
Y/nâs head lifted instantly. âReally?â
The change in her was almost blinding, her whole expression lit up, like someone had just turned on a light inside her. Jake felt something in his chest jolt. His palms were suddenly warm.
âYeah,â he muttered, forcing his gaze back to his notebook. âMy high school friend, Sunoo. Heâs doing a makeup course now.â
He scribbled a number on a sticky note and slid it across the table. She took it delicately, as if it were something valuable. âThank you,â she said, her voice so genuinely grateful it made his ears burn. âYouâre⊠so kind and helpful.â Before he could respond, she reached into her bag again and placed something small on his desk, a strawberry lollipop, still wrapped in shiny pink plastic.
âFor you,â she said simply, before saving Sunooâs number in her phone.
Jake stared at the candy for a second too long. It wasnât anything special. But the fact that it came from her the fact that sheâd felt the need to give him something in return made warmth creep up his neck. The rest of the study session passed without another word between them, but when Jake left the library, the lollipop was in his pocket. He didnât even like strawberry flavor, but he couldnât bring himself to throw it away.
Walking home, he realized he was smiling. It curled slowly at the corners of his mouth and stayed there, refusing to fade.
She had called him kind. She had thanked him.
And for some stupid reason, that meant more to him than it should have.
It was a breezy Saturday afternoon when Y/n finally met Sunoo in person. Theyâd exchanged a few texts since Jake gave her his number, but now, standing in the bustling makeup aisle of sephora, she realized how different he was from anyone sheâd ever met. Sunoo radiated energy that could light up a dead room in seconds. His hands moved almost as fast as his mouth, pointing at palettes, testing swatches on the back of his hand, tapping his chin dramatically when something didnât meet his standards.
Y/n, in contrast, followed him quietly, clutching a small basket. Every now and then, heâd glance over and beam at her as if theyâd known each other for years.
âYou,â Sunoo said, holding up a lip tint like it was a rare jewel, âneed this. Perfect undertone, wonât wash you out, andââ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ââitâll make you look expensive.â
She blinked. âExpensive?â
âLike you drink overpriced coffee and ghost people after two dates,â he teased.
Y/n stifled a laugh. âI⊠donât think I could pull that off.â
âYes, you can. Leave it to me.â
Over the next hour, Sunoo guided her through every essential, the right foundation shade, a soft blush that wouldnât make her look sunburnt, mascara that lengthened but didnât clump, and, most importantly, glosses that didnât resemble cooking oil. He didnât oversell. He didnât overwhelm. It was just the right products, the right shades, in the right amounts.
When they finally stepped out of the store, Y/nâs bag was neatly packed with her small but perfect starter kit.
âIâll make a demo video for you,â Sunoo said as they strolled down the sidewalk. âMy classes are insane right now no break except weekends but Iâll send it online. And if youâre lost or stuck, video call me anytime. Even if Iâm in the middle of dinner.â Her chest warmed. âThank you⊠seriously, thank you so much.â
âDonât thank me yet,â he said with a playful smirk. âWait until people start staring at you in the cafeteria.â
They ducked into a cozy cafĂ© afterward, settling into a booth by the window. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and espresso, and Sunoo wasted no time launching into his stories. He told her about college, the good professors, the terrible ones, the one classmate who ate pickles during lectures. Then he spiraled into his high school years, his brief but dramatic dating history, and somewhere between a rant about cafeteria food and a tangent about a professorâs bad haircut, a familiar name slipped into the conversation.
Jake.
Y/n perked up instantly. âYou know Jake from high school?â âKnow him? We were in the same class for three years,â Sunoo said, stirring his iced latte lazily. âJake was always⊠well, Jake. Smart, yes. But unnecessarily cold and introverted. Like he thought speaking to people would take years off his life.â
She tried to picture him that way. Cold, yes. Introverted, yes. But smart? Somehow, that made sense.
âDonât tell him I said that,â Sunoo grinned wickedly.
Y/n giggled, and Sunoo, seeing her reaction, leaned back in his seat like heâd accomplished something. âBut to be fair, heâs always been the kind of person who helps quietly. Never flashy, never asking for anything in return.â
She tilted her head, curious.
âThere was this time in high school,â Sunoo went on, his tone softening, âwhen I used to get bullied by some senior boys. You know, for being âtoo feminineâ for a guy. Jake⊠he didnât say much, but he always showed up. Sat next to me, walked me to class, made sure they backed off. Heâs probably the reason I didnât lose my mind that year.â The words sat heavy in Y/nâs mind. Her fingers curled around her cup as she remembered the library, Jake sliding Sunooâs number toward her.
Jake was⊠actually cute. Not in the obvious, polished way Sunghoon was of course...
Sunoo, however, wasnât done. âHas Jake ever said anything that hurt your feelings?â he asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.
Her lips twitched into a pout before she could stop herself. âHe⊠probably hates me. The way he looks at me sometimesââ She scrunched her nose, mimicking his signature disgusted expression. âItâs like Iâm a bug on his desk.â Sunoo threw his head back and laughed. âOh no, thatâs not hate.â
âItâs not?â
âThatâs his coping mechanism.â
She blinked. ââŠCoping for what?â
âFor existing near people without combusting, obviously,â Sunoo smirked.
Y/n tilted her head, unconvinced. Sunoo leaned forward across the table, his eyes glinting like he was about to share a state secret. âNext time he says or does something annoyingâŠâ He paused for dramatic effect.
ââŠlook him dead in the eye and say...........â
Her eyes went wide before a burst of laughter escaped her, so sudden she had to cover her mouth. Sunoo grinned triumphantly. âOh, I like that laugh. Keep it. Use it on him, too â itâll drive him insane.â
She wiped at the corner of her eyes, still chuckling. âYouâre evil.â
âIâm effective,â he corrected with a wink.
The next week, Y/n followed Sunooâs advice down to the smallest detail.
No glitter, no mismatched tones, just a light sweep of blush, a touch of mascara, and soft nude pink gloss that caught light in a way that looked effortless. It was the first time in a long while she walked into the building without feeling the need to check her reflection twice. Most people didnât seem to notice. Her classmates breezed past her as usual, heads down, mid conversation about weekend plans or exam dates.
But Jake noticed.
He noticed from the second she stepped into the lecture hall. His eyes followed the curve of her cheek when she turned her head, the subtle shine on her lips, the faint curl in her hair.
And he hated himself for noticing.
Because then he noticed something else, the way her eyes, big and almost shy, sought out one person in particular.
Sunghoon.
Jake had seen that look before. Soft. Hopeful. Like she was waiting for something she never got. And when Sunghoon didnât even bother to look her way, Jakeâs jaw clenched so hard it ached. By the time the class ended, his frustration had reached a low, simmering boil. He wasnât even sure if it was aimed at her for looking at Sunghoon like that⊠or at Sunghoon for not looking back. He left the lecture hall without waiting for anyone, cutting through the east wing toward his next class, Modern Literature. The one he shared with Tora.
His mind was a mess.
He didnât know what he felt anymore.
Maybe this was it. Maybe he needed to talk to Tora, clear the air, tell her exactly how he felt so he could stop spiraling like this. Stop whatever this was with Y/n. When he pushed open the classroom door, it looked empty at first. He stepped inside, adjusting the strap of his bag and froze.
Tora wasnât alone.
She was against the far wall, kissing a guy Jake vaguely recognized from class...Jay? His arm was braced above her head, her hand resting lightly on his chest like theyâd done this before. The sound in Jakeâs head went sharp and white, like static. He didnât move. Didnât say anything. Just stood there long enough for his stomach to twist into something unrecognizable before turning on his heel. His breath was uneven as he slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door as quietly as if heâd never been there. He didnât want them to know. Didnât want her to know.
He walked without thinking until his feet carried him to the one place on campus where no one usually went the back staircase.
Except someone was already there.
Y/n stood leaning against the far wall, her bag still slung over her shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the strap. Her posture was awkward, like she hadnât decided whether she wanted to leave or stay. Jake stopped halfway down the steps. ââŠSeriously?â
She looked up.
âThis is my spot,â he said flatly, moving down the last few steps. âIâve been coming here for years.â
She huffed. âYour spot? Pretty sure the building belongs to the university, not Jake Sim.â
âWell, youâre in it,â he shot back.
She crossed her arms. âSo what, I should just leave because you said so?â
âYeah. Exactly that.â
They stared at each other, the silence thickening in the narrow stairwell. He could see it now, her eyes slightly puffy like sheâd been holding back something all day, the way her mouth pressed into a thin line. âWhat happened to you?â he asked, before he could stop himself.
Her gaze flickered away. âNothing.â
It wasnât nothing. Not with the way her voice dipped at the end.
Truth was, she tried her best to get Sunghoonâs attention today, same as always. But instead of meeting her halfway, he hadnât spared her a glance. And to make things worse, Wonyoung had said something cutting loud enough for a few people to hear, sharp enough to make them laugh. Sunghoon had been there. He had laughed too. Not cruelly, maybe, but enough to sting.
She came here to shake it off. To hide where no one could see her face and apparently, Jake didnât count as âno one.â
âLook,â she muttered, âIâm not moving. Youâre not moving. Letâs just⊠not talk.â
Fine.
Jake didnât feel like talking either.
They both sank into their usual defensive positions. Her leaning against the wall, him dropping onto the last step, elbows braced on his knees. For a while, it stayed quiet. Just the distant echo of voices from the hall, the hum of pipes in the wall.
But Jakeâs gaze wandered despite himself.
He noticed the way her curls framed her face today, soft and light. The faint sheen on her nose when the sunlight caught it. The way her lashes, longer than heâd realized, brushed her cheek when she blinked. And her lips â
He looked away fast, swallowing. It hit him all at once, the hollow in his chest wasnât from Tora kissing someone else. That hadnât hurt the way heâd expected it to. What hurt was this. Sitting here, looking at Y/n, and feeling something twist tight in his gut without knowing what the hell to call it. And maybe thatâs why the words slipped out, sharper than he meant.
âStop creeping out Sunghoon like you want to kiss him every time he looks at you. Maybe thatâs when heâll finally notice you.â
Her head snapped toward him. âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me.â
She let out a long, slow sigh that carried exhaustion more than anger. âItâs none of your business who I kiss or not.â He leaned back, crossing his arms. âWho would kiss you anyway?â
The jab landed and she turned at him properly âI dare you to kiss me,â she said, voice steady. âAnd keep it in your pants⊠hah! Get off, loserâ tone carrying out exactly how Sunoo taught her.
Jake was star struck.
Her tone wasnât flirty. It wasnât shy. It was daring that prickled under his skin, made his pulse trip. His eyes flicked to her lips again, unbidden. She was still looking at him like she knew exactly what sheâd just done â and maybe she did. Neither of them moved closer, but the air felt heavier now, charged.
His throat was dry, and his chest felt too tight, and for once, he didnât have a quick retort. Somewhere above them, footsteps echoed in the stairwell. The spell broke.
She looked away first, brushing a curl behind her ear like nothing had happened. âThought so.â Jake forced a scoff, though it came out weaker than he wanted. âYou wish.â But when he left the staircase a few minutes later, his ears were burning. And for the first time, he wasnât sure who had actually won.
Over the next two weeks, it became a pattern. He bumped into her in any way possible. It was almost like someone set a love trap for them in every corner of the university.
Vending machine. Library staircase. The cramped little photocopying room. Heâd turn a corner and sheâd be there, half-flinching like sheâd been caught somewhere she wasnât supposed to be. It was never intentional.
At first, Jake chalked it up to campus being small.
Then⊠he started wondering if it was something else. By the time exams were over, Jake had a strange, simmering awareness of her. He told himself it was just because she was everywhere, like an inconvenient shadow. But there were moments, fleeting, uninvited where he caught himself watching the way she brushed curls out of her face, or how she always chewed her lip before answering a professorâs question.
He liked it.
He liked the feeling of noticing her, the way it made something unfamiliar twist inside him. It was addictive almost.
Yeonjunâs parties were legendary. Not as wild in the way movies liked to exaggerate though there was always a flood of alcohol and at least one person crying in the bathroom and everyone wanted to be there. He was rich, charming, and the type of host who remembered your drink preference even if youâd only mentioned it once in passing.
So when his âEnd of Semester Blowoutâ invite dropped into the group chats, the campus might as well have been issued a mandatory attendance order. Jake didnât care much for big gatherings, but Heeseung convinced him.
âYou need to loosen up,â he said. âBesides, everyoneâs gonna be there. You donât want people thinking youâre hiding.â That last part was bait, and Jake knew it but he went anyway. The house was glowing when they arrived. Lights looped across the fence and up the porch railing, music thumped low from somewhere inside, and the smell of something sugary and alcoholic hit Jake as soon as they stepped through the door.
There were clusters of people on couches, leaning against kitchen counters, spilling onto the backyard deck.
Laughter and music blended into a dizzying haze.
Jake spotted her almost immediately.
Y/n was standing near the living roomâs edge, a drink in hand, talking to a girl from their department.
She looked⊠different.
Her usual boring hoodie was replaced with something softer, still pastel, but the fabric caught the light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. Glossed lips, loose curls falling over her shoulder and yet, she still stood with her weight shifted back, as though ready to retreat at the first sign of trouble. He told himself he was just observing.
Noticing, because noticing was unavoidable in a place this crowded.
And yet, every time he moved through the room, his gaze found her again.
The spin the bottle game started in the den. It was Nicholasâs idea, which meant it was guaranteed to be just cruel enough to keep people entertained. Jake didnât sit down to play. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the circle form on the rug. Bottles were always dangerous things in rooms full of bored college students.
It started harmlessly.
Two people kissed, everyone whooped, someone took a shot.
Then the bottle spun and landed on Y/n and Sunghoon. Her name rippled through the group like a lit fuse.
Someone giggled.
âLucky draw, Sunghoon!â another voice teased.
Jakeâs eyes narrowed. Sunghoonâs brows shot up. âWhat?â âSheâs a virgin, right?â someone else chimed in. âCareful, man.â
The laughter that followed was sharp edged, the kind that made Jakeâs stomach knot. Y/nâs cheeks were already pink, but she smiled, that tiny, brittle smile she wore when she wanted to pretend words didnât sting.
Sunghoon didnât lean in.
He shook his head, still smiling like it was a joke, and said, âNah. Iâll pass.â
The room erupted laughter, mock groans, a couple of âOooooh, burn!âs.
Jake didnât join in. Neither did Y/n. Her smile didnât reach her eyes. It shouldâve ended there.
But Nicholas, grinning like a cat whoâd cornered something small and trembling, said, âHey, Iâve got an idea. Why donât she kiss Jake? Both losers. Perfect match, right?â The laughter this time was louder. A chorus of ooohs and do it, do it! filled the room.
Jakeâs jaw tightened. It wasnât just the whole setting.It was the way they said it, the glee in watching someone flinch.
Y/n didnât even try to laugh it off this time. Her throat bobbed, and her eyes darted to the floor.Then she stood too quickly and slipped through the crowd.
Jake pushed off the wall before heâd even decided what he was doing.The air outside was cooler, but she wasnât slowing down. He followed the sound of her footsteps down the street until she stopped under a flickering streetlamp.
âY/n,â he called.
She didnât turn.
Only when he caught up and gently grabbed her wrist did she look at him. Her head jerked back toward him, eyes wide, but not startled.
More⊠tired.
Tiredness from carrying the weight of other peopleâs words for too long.
âY/nââ
âLet go.â
Her voice wasnât sharp, just flat.
Jake didnât.
Instead, he stepped around her so she had to stop. The streetlamp above them flickered once, buzzing faintly, casting light and shadow across her face in unsteady intervals. He didnât have a speech prepared. Didnât know why his chest felt too tight, or why the thought of her walking away made him feel like he was missing something crucial.
âIâm⊠sorry,â he said, and the words felt strange in his mouth. Her brows pulled together, just slightly, before she forced a small, practiced smile.
âWhy are you saying sorry?â
He opened his mouth and closed it again. Because what was he supposed to say?
Sorry that people are assholes? Sorry I didnât stop them sooner? Sorry I didnât punch Nicholas in the throat? Sorry that I⊠noticed you tonight more than Iâve noticed anyone else?
Instead, he just stood there. And in the space between them, he noticed the tremor in her hand where his fingers still rested. She was shaking, he felt it when he shifted his grip, thumb brushing her knuckles.
âHey,â he said quietly, tugging her closer. Not enough to close all the distance, but enough that she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
Her eyes were glassy in the half-light.
And for a moment, he thought she was going to laugh on herself, that deflective humor she always used when things got too real.
Instead, she whispered, âDo you think Iâm⊠that ugly?â It hit him like a sucker punch.
He blinked, certain heâd misheard. But she was still looking at him, searching his face like she expected him to confirm it âlisten Iââ
âI know I look ugly, okay?â she cut in, voice starting to wobble.
âI know Iâm a loser, and no amount of makeup can fix me, but....I wanna be loved too.â
She didnât say it with drama.
She breathed out the word that had been stuck in her throat as a lump for so long, her voice worn thin at the edges. And Jake who had always had something to say, some sharp remark or savage comment couldnât find anything. Nothing that wouldnât sound pathetic or wrong.
âY/n, stop⊠please.â His voice cracked halfway through, and he hated that she mightâve heard it.
She took a shaky step back, pulling against his grip, but he didnât let go. âGo away, Jake. You were right, I was infact creeping him out...for someone who knows how to embarrass myself in every moment I donât deserve Sunghoon, I don't deserve you. Iâm not stupid â I know you donât like me, so you donât have to pity meââ
Her words died when he closed the space between them in one step. He pulled her in gently, movements slow, deliberate, that gave her every chance to push him away. One hand slid to her hip, fingers curling loosely against the fabric there. The other still held her wrist, and now, with careful pressure, he guided it upward until her palm rested flat against his chest. She felt it immediately
the heat under his shirt, the quick, uneven rhythm of his heartbeat.
Her breathing stuttered.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she couldâve pulled away. But her fingers stayed splayed against him, feeling the thud of his pulse. Jakeâs eyes were locked on hers. Not scanning, not drifting, just there, unwavering, like he had finally decided to stop looking anywhere else. When he leaned in, it wasnât to kiss her.
Not yet.
He pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt the faint brush of his breath against her lips. His voice was low, almost a restraint whisper.
âDonât dare me to kiss you so hard â he murmured, âthat you fall on your knees right here.â
What the fuck.
Her mind was a blur, throat painfully dry, chest tight, and pulse pounded so loudly in ears it nearly drowned out the silence around them. The street was still, the flickering lamplight catching on the faint glimmer of her teary eyes. She absolutely swore that throwing herself into Jakeâs arms and kissing him until the world stopped spinning was the only solution that made sense right now. The air between them was loaded, fragile. No words, just the sound of their breathing, soft, uneven, a little hesitant. Somewhere between that and the erratic rhythm of their hearts, something unspoken was pulling them closer.
Jake could feel it too. The weight of her hand still pressed against his chest, the warmth of her body just inches from his. His brain was screaming at him to move, to say something, to do anything, but his mouth was frozen. The only thought looping through his head was ' Iâm done for. '
But he didnât regret a single word he had said. Not one. If anything, he wished heâd said more. Her shoulders, which had been trembling moments before, softened under his hold. The tension slowly bled out of her body, and before Jake could register what was happening, she tilted her chin up ever so slightly.
Her lips brushed his in a fleeting, tentative touch, a peck. It lasted less than a second.
But to Jake, it might as well have been an eternity. His stomach twisted, a strange cocktail of adrenaline and warmth shooting through him so violently he swore he heard fireworks in the distance. His knees felt weak, almost gelatinous, and his chest⊠God, his chest was a mess of chaotic thumping that felt both unbearable and addicting. She pulled back instantly, her face flaming red. âIâsorry, Jake, Iââ She stammered over the words, her voice shaking. âYouâreâI couldnât stop myselfââ
Her eyes darted downward, avoiding his entirely as she stared at the tips of her shoes, biting her lip like she was about to spiral into a full blown panic. The night air nipped at her cheeks, but she was too flustered to notice.
thump
Her head shot up.
Jake was no longer standing in front of her instead he was on the ground, sprawled out on the cold pavement, the faintest dazed look on his face as if the kiss had knocked the last coherent thought straight out of his skull. âJake?!â Her voice pitched higher, panic flooding her veins. She dropped to her knees beside him, gripping his shoulder.
He blinked once. Twice. Then a slow, lazy smile tugged at his lips. âfucking finally,â he mumbled, almost dreamily, before letting his head fall back again.
Y/nâs jaw dropped, her heart doing flips she didnât know were possible.
Her nemesis, apparently, had just passed out from a kiss.
âOh my GOD. OH. MY. GOD. Did you kill him? â
The moment she answered, her eardrums were assaulted by Sunooâs high pitched voice and she held the phone an inch away from her ear.
"About that....well..." she blushed, a small giggle escaping her lips.
âYou KISSED him and the man collapsed like a Victorian widow! This is literally better than any drama Iâve watched!â Y/n groaned, dragging her hand down her face. âIt wasnâtâstop making it sound likeâughâit was just a peck!â
âThatâs the point!â Sunoo howled through the line. âA peck did that to him! Whatâs he gonna do when youââ He cut himself off, letting out a scandalized gasp. âNo, actually, donât tell me. Iâm pure.â She rolled her eyes but couldnât help the laugh that slipped out. âYouâre the farthest thing from pure.â
âTrue,â Sunoo admitted without shame. âBut please, you have to tell me if he passes out again. Iâll start bringing smelling salts to campus.â She hung up before he could escalate further, tossing her phone onto the bed while letting out a scream mixed somewhere between highschool girls finally kissing their crashes and a breakdown.
Somehow, despite the chaos of that night, she and Jake slipped back into their usual dynamic.
If you could call it âusualâ anymore. The insults were still there. He still called her a loser every other day, and she still found new, creative ways to tell him he looked like a dog when he stared at her pretending to look at the white board. But there was something different in the way their banter lingered now like their words were a thin veil over something neither of them wanted to name just yet. Sometimes sheâd catch him staring at her from across the cafeteria. Not the hostile, âIâm trying to figure out if I hate youâ staring from before, this was softer, distracted, like heâd forgotten anyone else existed.
And sometimes, when they were alone between classes, their arguments didnât end with just throwing insults. They ended with him backing her into the wall, his mouth on hers, five whole minutes of kissing like the world was going to end before the next lecture.
âYouâre still annoying,â Jake mumbled between kisses, his hand sliding to the back of her neck.
âYouâre still a loser,â she shot back, breathless, not moving away.
âYeah?â he smirked, brushing his lips against hers again. âGuess weâre perfect for each other then.â
It was ridiculous. It was stupid. And yet⊠they didnât hate it.
Sunghoon and Tora were⊠well, they were still there, somewhere on campus. But to Y/N and Jake, they had become distant memories. They were still losers, by most social standards. Jake still made enemies with professors for making them check his answer sheets 5 times. Y/n still found new ways to trip over her own shoelaces in public. But being losers together somehow made college feel less like a battlefield.
Sometimes they wondered when exactly things had shifted between them. Was it that night on the street? The moment his forehead pressed to hers? Or maybe even before that when they were still pretending to dont know each other but kept finding themselves in the same places anyway. None of them didnât seem too interested in figuring it out either. He just kept showing up sometimes with coffee, sometimes with sarcastic remarks, sometimes with both.
One morning, as they walked to class together, she bumped his shoulder.
âYou know, if anyone saw us, they might think we actually like each other.â
He smirked. âLetâs not ruin my reputation like that.â
She snorted. âYour reputationâs already trash.â
âYeah,â he said, glancing at her with that infuriating softness in his eyes. âBut itâs our trash.â
And for the first time since sheâd set foot on campus, Y/N realized she wasnât counting the days until the semester ended.
College was still exhausting. People still made snide comments sometimes. But now, she had someone to sit with during boring lectures, someone to sneak off with for five stolen minutes, someone to laugh with when they both inevitably embarrassed themselves in front of the entire class.
They werenât perfect. Far from it. But they were in this together.
Two losers, making it work.
THE END
©sunishake

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