#seojun

Han Seojun.

A name that everybody in Saebom High School knew.

His ladykiller reputation obviously gave him certain swagger as he moved. He had more confidence than most teenagers. Seojun walked through the gate with his ‘gang’, listening as Cho-rong described the dream he had the night before.

“So then this witch lady, she told me I only had 3 more days to live and then started dancing to some weird music.”

Seojun shook his head. “Seriously, Cho-rong, it’s nothing to worry about.” His friends looked at him, unconvinced.

“But what if-”

“But what if nothing?” He interrupted. “Aish, you’re too superstitious for your own good. You shouldn't believe things like that,” He continued to walk when suddenly a voice rang out.

“Wait, stop! Don't move!”

All the boys froze, Han Seojun’s foot still in the air as they all turned in the direction of the noise. You stood, messy hair, mismatched socks, and covered in accessories that were not a part of the school uniform.

You were in no way bullied at the school; you had many people who would make conversation with you, but you weren’t exactly known for your popularity. You were known as that one girl who would talk to trees or bring crystals into exams for good luck, but ultimately were seen as unproblematic.

You had the polar opposite reputation from Seojun.

“Don't step on that ladybug,” You pointed at Han Seojun.

In sync, he and his gang all looked downwards. There, underneath the spot his shoe was about to land, was a tiny little ladybug. It was surprising you had been able to see it.

“It’s bad luck to step on one,” You pointed out, and all of Han Seojun's friends gasped.

“Really?” A shorter boy asked, looking at you. You nodded. “My mom always taught me that stepping on a ladybug was 15 years bad luck.”

Han Seojun, who was still frozen with his foot in the air, narrowed his eyes at you. “I’ve never heard of that one. Where’s your mom hear about it?”

You shrugged. “I don't know,” He chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “But I swear it’s true.” Despite having no idea the origin of the myth (which, unbeknownst to you, you're mom had made up on the spot), you full heartedly believed in the tale.

“Seojun, you should just step around it,” Cho-rong whispered cautiously to his friend, looking at the ladybug as if it were a bomb that was about to explode.

“This is what I was talking about. You’re all too suspicious for your own good.” Seojun looked at the ladybug, then to you, then to his friends, then back at the ladybug.

He had made up his mind.

In one swift motion, he brought his foot down, squashing the bug. You all let out a gasp.

“Stop it,” He complained, waving you all off. “Nothing is going to happen,” He began, storming off, grumbling to himself about how he needed to find better company.

You moved next to Cho-rong, as you all watched dramatically as Han Seojun stormed off. Cho-rong turned to you. “Is he going to be ok?”

You looked him up, shaking your head. “Only time will tell” 

---

Sujeon swaggered through the corridor.

He winked at a girl as he passed by. He smiled innocently at a teacher, though it was clear there was a cheeky undertone. He-

He fell flat on his face.

Seojun groaned as he lifted himself from the floor. He looked around, looking to see what exactly had tripped him, but nothing was on the floor. Looking around, he let out a grateful sigh as he realized no one had been around to witness his fall.

Brushing himself off, he got up, heading out to where he and his gang always hung out by the side of the school.

“Hey guys, wh-” Again, Seojun felt his body fall downwards. He let out a hiss of pain as this time he fell on the asphalt instead of just the carpeted hallway.

He quickly got up, brushing himself off and looking to his friends. They all had wide-eyed stares as Cho-rong pointed at him.

“Bad luck,” He let out. “Bad luck. You got the curse."

“No, I didn't,” he scoffed, trying to brush himself off and not look so pathetic. Seeing his friends' shocked faces, he glared again. “I didn't, so stop looking at me like that.”

For once, they didn't listen to him. “We have to find… that freaky chick,” One of the members yelled out, looking concerned.

“We do not need to fine y/n,” Seojun debated, turning around to leave. “I am not-” for the third time in an hour, Seojun tripped.

This time, it was not the floor he was landing on. Instead, it was a teacher. The art teacher.

The art teacher was holding a bucket of paint.

“What have you done?” She scolded, looking down at the boy who was now covered in paint. “You’ve ruined your uniform, and now I have to go get a new bucket,” She shook her head. “I’ll let you go straight home today to get cleaned up, but I will be seeing you at detention tomorrow.”

Seojun watched, his mouth opening and closing as the woman stormed away. He turned back to his group of friends, who shared a similar look. “Ok, maybe I am cursed.”

And that smition was what led you to be hunted down by Seojun and his gang.

“Fix me,” He ordered as soon as he saw you picking flowers on the edge of the field. You raised an eyebrow seeing him. “I don't know how to get paint out of clothes.” You simply spoke, and Cho-rong spoke up. “No, fix his curse.”

You made an ‘ah’ noise. “So the curse had started affecting you.”

They all nodded in sync, even Seojun, who was now ready to get his reputation back.

“What did your mom say to get rid of it?” He asked desperately, and you thought for a moment.

“Well, she said in order to undo the bad luck of, you have to gain as much back. Finding a ladybug is worth 6 months of good luck. You have to find 30 ladybugs to undo 15 years of bad luck.” You smiled. “And I know where all the ladybugs go.”

“Ok, great. We just have to catch some bugs,” Seojun sighed, he and his friends all looking relieved. “How hard could it be?” 

---

School had ended hours ago, yet you, Seojun, and all his friends were still at the park by the school.

“Why is catching them so hard?” Cho-rong complained, as another ladybug flew away from him.

“How many have we got?” Someone called out, and a boy with a piece of paper groned as he looked at his tally. “Still only 20”

“Hey, that’s good. Usually, it takes me a few days to find that many.” You smiled widely. This was the first time you had people to help, which meant it was going a lot faster.

The others didn't share your joyful sentiment, as they all groaned at the thought of having to do this again.

As you went back to trying to find the next ladybug, a figure popped down next to you.

“So is your mom a mathematician or something?” You looked up to see Seojun looking down at you. You tilted your head. “She seems pretty into numbers and the maths of the universe.”

You nodded. “Well, my mother died when I was 6.” A silence fell across the group as they all heard the comment. “But my dad told me she didn't have a job. Maybe she liked math.”

You shrugged, going back to work, while the others glared at Seojun. He sent them a glare back, though as soon as they turned back around, his face shifted to one of guilt.

He leaned in closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

You turned to him, a genuinely confused look on your face, which surprised him, “Why? I think she would have liked you”

He went quiet and, shaking his head, chuckled at the look. He was surprised that seemingly someone he perceived to be a lot cooler than him had an oddly nonchalant attitude.

“You’re cool,” he said, his eyes widening before he could even realize what he said. A slight blush came across his face.

“I’m really not,” you smiled back, oddly happy with that statement. He smiled back, happy you didn't seem to notice his blush. “So do you think maybe-”

“Oh my god,” You suddenly shouted, gaining the attention of everyone.

“What?” Han Seojun asked, instantly ready to fight anything that was threatening you.

“Bring the jar! Bring the jar!” You yelled, and the boy holding the jar instantly ran over to you. Picking up a leaf, everyone finally saw what had caught your attention.

There on the leaf was over 20 ladybugs.

You quickly placed the leaf in the jar, and he closed the lid. You all looked in awe.

“You're gonna have extra good luck now,” Cho-rong celebrated, and all the boys cheered along. A cheer that almost instantly turned into roughhousing. 

You smiled, joining in by jumping up and down, while Seojun maneuvered you and pushed away the boys who got too close. He made sure you still got to celebrate without being knocked over by his idiot friends.

“Alright, stop it,” Seojun called out, getting everyone, even you, to stop. “So what do I do now?” He asked, taking the jar gently.

“You just have to keep them close to you for the next few hours,” You stated, “Hold them when you do things, bring them into every room, and keep them on your bedside table while you sleep.”

He nodded, and the boys cheered, all thanking you for helping their leader.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked, and you thought for a second. “I do usually like the walk home, but I’ve used up a lot of energy today.” You smiled at him, “So I would love to.”

Gently placing the ladbgs in his bag, following your instructions to keep them in a spot they’re still touching his back, he set up the motorbike for you to hop on.

Seojun didn’t know if it was his luck changing, or the fact you were holding onto to him from behind - but he was feeling a fluttery feeling in his gut the whole ride home. 

---

Seojun swaggered through the front gates. He could already feel his good fortune routine; hell, it was even better than before.

Swinging his bag, he barely noticed the swooning girls, instead heading to his usual spot. Reaching the side of the school, he cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of his friends.

“Look, who's back with a new-”

Seojun didn't finish his statement, as suddenly he found himself falling again.

There was a moment of silence as he just lay on the floor.

Then, the group erupted, all quickly rushing over to help the boy up.

“I thought you were fixed,” Cho-rong asked, concerned. “Did you lose the ladybugs?”

“No, I kept them by me all night,” Seojun scoffed.

“He boss?” One of the boys spoke up. “What’s up with your shoe?”

Raising an eyebrow, Seojun reached down, taking off his left shoe. Looking at the bottom, there was a crack in the shoe, creating an imbalance in the surface. It wasn't big enough to feel, but it definitely could cause one to trip… several times.

“That must be why you’ve been tripping,” Cho-rong pointed out, and slowly the other boys' faces turned to rage.

“So the ladybugs were for nothing?”

“We wasted our whole afternoon.”

“That punk messed with us.”

“We should go teach her a lesson.”

Hearing that statement, Seojun’s head whipped towards the person, opening his mouth to scold them.

“Hey, guys.”

It wasn't Seojun who spoke. They all turned to see you smiling over at them, a tupperware in hand.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here,” One of the boys spoke, as the whole gang, minus Seojun, started walking towards you in a threatening way. You tilted your head, confused by the statement.

“What brings you around?” Another boy spoke, cracking his knuckles.

"Well, I wanted to bring you these.” You opened the lid to reveal several cupcakes, each decorated like a ladybug. “I made them last night as a thank you. You're the first people to ever agree to hunt for ladybugs with me.” You smiled up at them, almost hurting their eyes with how bright it was.

In an instant, public opinion of you changed, as the boys awwed, and even choring wiped his teary eyes.

“Of course, we helped.”

“You're so sweet.”

“If anyone ever bullies you, we will kill them.”

They all smiled as they took the cupcakes. “Hold it,” Seojun’s voice rang through, and all the boys paused. His gaze was hard set on you, who innocently smiled.

“Your little ladybug trick didn't work. I still have bad luck,” He spoke as he walked towards you.

“Seojun-” Cho-rong stared, as he and the other boys looked disappointed by the fact that their boss was holding a grudge. Seojun just held out his hand to shut him up as he stopped in front of you.

"Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” You spoke, and he clicked his tongue. “Well… you're just going to help us with another trick. We won't stop until my bad luck is all gone.”

The boys all lit up by the fact that Seojun was choosing to keep you around.

“Did you learn any other good luck rituals from your mother?”

You instantly lit up, handing the tupperware to a happy Cho-rong and taking out a little notebook. “Well, there are lots of other theories she had. Like if you…”

Seojun listened intently as you talked about different causes of bad luck and ways to fix them.

Yeah, maybe a few days ago, he would have called it a stupid superstition, but when you were the one talking about it, it all seemed to make so much sense. 

You lie on your bed, the lamplight sitting solemnly at the centre of your nightstand casts golden rays over your bare shoulders, harmonising with the ones coming from your windows. Summer will soon end, you turn around, now fully facing the sun as to enjoy every last bit of it like it would be the last time you'll see it. It may as well be.

Next year you'll change school, you'll change city, you'll change everything about yourself all hopefully for the best. The last few months were arduous but you sincerely, and desperately, aspire that a radical change of scenery will soon ease the pain. This hurtful feeling that has been continuously eating you alive and tugging at your heart, consuming every last part of your brain, forging it as a dark prison only you could have access to for you own pitiful misery, you'll escape it once and for all.

It's true, since your childhood, others always made sure to make you aware that you were.. Different. For instance, you never really enjoyed following trends such as buying the latest makeup brand dupe or the newest lululemon top. It's not that you didn't like to dress up, not at all, in fact you love it. But the way you are doing it, isn't exactly conventionally appropriate.

While you were surrounded by attractive girls wearing light-coloured clothes and bright makeup, you were the strict polar opposite. Baggy clothing, dark and smudged makeup, purposely messy hair, you weren't exactly a demure beauty icon like modern society would like you to be. And as they like to remind you, you were filthy petrol in a sea of pure refreshing water, always visually polluting your surroundings despite you. You'll forever remain as an outcast.

You never really saw any inconvenience to it until high school. Stares became more apparent and whispers more frequent as you quietly made your way throughout the corridors that soon became way too tight and way too long for your own comfort. Although your school experience wasn't particularly pleasant, it didn't touch you nearly as much since you didn't have to face it upfront. They could talk behind your back but they'll never mock you right in your face. Or so you thought.

Right, no one was invincible. Not even you the cold hearted, cold blooded, insensible, maybe even sociopathic as some liked to call you, school loner from the back of the class. You weren't one looking for dramas, partially because you were invisible, such are the pros all while being cons of having no friends.

Except, maybe, when you have this bad habit of smoking behind the school building. This bloody dependence will really kill you one day but not for the most obvious reason. Near the trash dump was the meeting spot of all smokers. It was a dark place, with a cold, humid atmosphere that assaults you with every drag smokers take in hope to forget that their addiction had made them miserably isolated from the rest of the school.

You often bumped into other nicotine addicts just like you, mostly delinquents. You weren't particularly close with them, not wanting to mingle with offensive brutes like them. Even if sometimes, you were feeling generous enough to exchange a cig, a lighter or some last minutes studies for the upcoming test with them.

The tranquility of your school experience was due solely to the invisibility created by your silence. Yet one day, you were foolish enough to believe that nothing could ever happen to you. The day you defied that idea was the day you began to slowly die. Right, as your bullies liked to remind you, that only your taste for meddling into what doesn't concern you has caused the horrid situation that you found yourself in. Ultimately, you too has become a part of the persecuted outcasts.

You anxiously brush the small round-shaped scar situated on your clavicle, a permanent reminder of how you've suffered by their hands.

Hence your sudden need for a radical change of scenery. Whether it was your school, your behavior, or even your clothing style, you wanted a complete transformation to start anew, and preferably by giving a good first impression. To ensure that, you traded your former black and overall dark clothes for lighter ones. Your smudged makeup became clean, clear and smooth. As for the way you act, you opt in favour of a more cheerful version of yourself, which isn't too far from reality really. It's just that before, you didn't have the heart to act nice to certain people who judge exclusively on looks.

Nothing too crazy, you still wish to remain yourself and not lose who you truly are in the process of fitting in. You're just becoming a better version of yourself, you always repeated this same sentence in your head. As for convincing yourself, it's as if you knew that in reality, the two aren't compatible.

Even if you're having a complete makeover some things are left unchanged. Like your love for music and this feeling which resonates within you whenever your slender fingers scratch your guitar. Or even long night talks shared with your older sister, between a pot of hot boiling ramen and a pack of cigs, she is the one who initiated you to smoking. You try to soothe your nerves by telling yourself that you'll always have those at the end of the day no matter what happens.

You finally stand up from your resting place and grab your cigarettes in resignation, hurriedly heading towards your small garden, it wasn't much but it was enough for your family.

You tried to fix this bad habit of yours during your restyling process, but it soon caught up with you before you knew it, especially around this unsure time period. Tomorrow will be the beginning of the new school year and after drastically changing everything about and around you, you can't help but have worrisome doubts consuming your thoughts. What if nothing changes and you'll forever stay an outcast ? What if they immediately see throughout your facade ? What if.. So many questions that are left to be answered until the big day arrives.

You angrily exhale the grey smoke from your lungs, stressing so much wasn't something you planned. Suddenly, you hear the backdoor opening and in a panic, try your best to hide your dubious belongings. "What ? Don't tell me you're smoking at this hour. Wow, you really aren't scared of anything my dear Y/n." You hear the sly grin behind your sister's tone. "Ah seriously, you startled me.." You abruptly toss back your pack on the outdoor table, exasperated though relieved. "Care to share one ?" She sits on the chair next to yours, already taking one out of the package anyways.

You look away silently as you hear the crisp and all too familiar sound of a lighter flickering. "What's gotten into you ? You seem tense." She starts, worry apparent in your older sister's eyes as she looks at you. "'Don't know.." You answer absently. "Is it because of the new school year ? I told you you were going to be fine countless time, yet you can help but worry right ?" You nod upon her comment. "Y/n, no matter what people think of you, you should live for yourself. And if it doesn't go like you expected, it won't be the death of you, I promise." She smirks, empathising with your concerns. But is it truly not ? If it wasn't, why would you have tried so hard to change every aspect of your life ?

She crushes her cigarette end in the ashtray. "Don't forget to clean everything up afterwards." She reminds you with a last puff of smoke. You turn your head to follow her departure "Mh.".

You went to bed with numerous questions racing in your clouded mind. You tossed and turned, so much that you gave up at last and took a sleeping pill. You can't afford to have a spot appearing from nowhere or an inflamed skin on what could be the biggest day of your life. So, to avoid that, sleep is indispensable.

You ultimately drifted off to sleep, lulled by the hopes and expectations you have for this school year. In fact, the sole idea of living a normal teenage school life was enough to ease the anxiety weighing on your mind, rather naively you might even admit. Soon, you'll live a new life.

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Your shoes clacking against the tiled floor echoed through the empty halls of the huge building, it still amuses you to this day the was the floor never seemed to get dirty, always reflecting as if it was a mirror.

However, even if you could spot everything on the floor you still missed the person you were walking into, your head colliding against his tall back, startling out of your mind.

"Yah!" A man's voice flooded your ears before your eyes looked up to who you have crashed into, locking with brown foxlike eyes. "How do you manage to bump into the only other person in the floor?" He says, looking into you intently.

He was the prettiest man you've ever met, and even that was an understatement. The way his eyes complemented the rest of his face, his dark hair in a mullet giving him a mysterious and cool vibe that was just highlighted by his all-black outfit. It was probably the most memorable thing about that day.

"I'm sorry." You mutter, bowing a bit and smiling apologetically.

"It's okay, just look where you're going." He tells you in something between a reprimand and some advice, between polite and cocky. "You're a producer?" He asks, more for him than for you as he spots your producer badge hanging from your neck.

"Oh, yeah, I started today. I'm L/N Y/N." You smile politely at him, who nodded and gave you a weird smile back.

"Nice to meet you L/N Y/N, name's Han Seojun." He said before he continued walking, a small greeting bow before looking away. "Have a good night."

As the weeks rolled by you learnt from your superior that Han Seojun has a new trainee and was already relatively famous as it was too. Your encounter with the boy becoming more and more frequent the more he started practicing and the more you advanced as a producer. The two of you becoming close work friends rather quickly.

As the months turned into years and the level of comfort grew between the two of you the more your feeling for him surpassed the limit of friends, his laugh enticing a newfound warmth in your chest anytime you heard it, his eyes appearing in your daydreaming more and more often. Everything about him changing in your eyes to something else. Nonetheless, as your feeling for him grew with your friendship so did the secrets you knew from each other.

Even though you like him a lot you knew very well how much he liked Lim Jukyung, and you couldn't get mad at it, she has been in his live for far longer than you and is just and angel to be around; if anything you would've fallen in love with her too if you were Seojun.

"Y/Nie, you have done more than enough with those tracks, go home." Your superior mentioned as he walked in the studio, passing you a bottle of water and sitting by your side.

"Something is missing..." you mutter, your back aching from sitting in the same chair for so many consecutive hours, mouse scrolling through the track in the monitor for the nth time in the past half hour.

"You can review it tomorrow, go and rest." He said once again, pulling you away from the computer, your hands stretching as far as they could to keep on working until you were out of reach. His hand grabbing the mouse and saving the track. "Go." His voice was stern but with a hint of fondness, a soft smile on his face as you oblige.

Grabbing you bag and saying your goodbyes you walked out of the studio, opting for using the stairs as your exercise for the day. Eight flight of stairs you were kind of regretting your choice, but you were no quitter, so you kept going. "God my back's killing me." You whisper for yourself as your rub your neck tiredly, putting your coat on until a sound picked up your attention.

Instantly your mind went back to that one-time Jukyung playfully told you she heard from her sister that there was a ghost around the building, seemingly having been haunted herself a few times. "Aigoo..." You mutter, freezing in place as your ears try to pick up the sound again; a few seconds pass and you hear it again, however it seemed to be a sob.

Concerned and a bit less scared you kept on walking down, careful to not disturb whoever it was that cried silently. A few floors down you were met with the figure of a man, sat down in the stairs as his body shook painfully as he cried, his soft sobs flooding your ears and you wished to all the heavens above you were mistaking the silhouette with someone else.

Please, don't be him.

You took a few steps down, the closer you got the clearer he became before your tired eyes. "Seojun?" You asked in a whisper, close enough to crouch down and place your hand on his shoulder.

It shouldn't hurt so much to see the way he flinched at both your voice and your touch, his hand flying to push yours off as his face refused to turn towards you.

With a sigh you sat down beside him, not a word leaving your mouth as you looked ahead of you, giving him the time to do whatever he wanted with his appearance before you looked at him, letting him know you are not forcing anything out of him but instead offering him your company.

A few seconds passed by, maybe a whole minute before he kept on crying, hand trying so hard to muffle his voice as his tears never stopped flowing down his cheeks. Slowly you turned to look at him, taking the time to take in his appearance before sighing again. It hurt a lot to see him so broken.

"It's okay to cry it out, don't silence yourself." You whispered softly, hand slowly reaching for his and taking it off his mouth, a sob immediately following after. "I can leave if you want me to." You said, giving him a few seconds to react, taking his silence and lack of eye contact as a sign and stood up.

"Wait.... don't go," he said in a choked voice, hand flying to grab your wrist, eyes finally looking up at you between his tears. "Please."

"You don't have to ask me twice." You say, a soft and sad smile on your face as your crouched down in front of him between his knees, hands resting now on top of his cheeks and brushing away his tears. "You wanna talk about it or just exist for a while?"

Your tone was so sweet and full of patience he just felt like crying again, sniffing he kept silent, eyes roaming through your face and not once finding your company insincere. "I let her go." He whispers back, his eyes appearing as an open book for you to read, his mouth pouting and his eyes tearing again. "It hurts."

"I know it hurts, and it hurt to love her too, didn't it?" You ask, brushing a few stray hairs off his face and behind his ears, a mannerism you took upon on as his hair grew between haircuts. "I'm so sorry."

"Why does it hurt so much?" He said while desperately looking into your eyes for an explanation, his own hand clutching his chest as if trying to take his heart out. "Why do I had to love her out of everyone?"

He sounded so broken, so exhausted of his feelings it made you teary too, a burning sensation starting at your throat threatening to choke your upcoming words.

"You don't choose who to love, just how she didn't choose not to love you." You mutter, blinking away the stinging in your eyes. "It's part of life as much as it sucks." You whisper, shuffling in your feet that hurt from crouching for so long. "Love hurts, it's dumb how much loving can hurt when it's such a beautiful feeling, huh?" You can't help but chuckle at your own words, how ironic.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles after a while, his hands brushing off the last of his tears as he has now calmed down a lot more, you still crouching in front of him, never once taking your attention away.

"Don't apologize for being human." With a smile your hands sneak up to grab his and stand up, pulling him with you. "Come on, let's go and get some air. away from this creepy stairway." With one of your hands you clean his face of, not wanting anyone to see he was crying as your other hand never loosens around his.

As you walked down the stairs with him trailing behind you Seojun couldn't help but notice how secure your hand held his and how your presence soothes him, a small grateful smile on his face.

"Thank you, Y/N." He mutters as you drag him along, not once yapping or complaining of this ruining his tough image as he would've done every other day.