#thorrid

the pool party is supposed to be a celebration to mark the end of the festival. although not a university-approved event, the Rec Center is packed with students squeezing the last taste of the festival before going back to their summer session classes.

from students doing cannon balls in the deep end to others spraying each other with water guns, agatha enters as the party is in full swing-- already wearing her swimsuit, her hair in loose braids--with the insistence from the student government members that will also be in attendance. finishing up her vice president duties, she only intend to stay for an hour or so and leave before the party gets shut down but she couldn't escape the scene she saw yesterday.

they were too close. their skin touching too much. their laughter a cacophony to her ears. no matter how many girls she sees draped on his arm, agatha can't ever seem to avoid the way it make her chest ache or make her blood boil, never in between.

jealousy is truly a vice reserved for people like her.

it wasn't her fault her mother raised her to never be satisfied.

in the sea of people between them, her eyes finds him as easily as picking out red from green. she could walk into a vast room, not knowing if he's there and still be able to pick him out of the crowd in a heartbeat.

three years is indeed enough to know someone just by their silhouette, the way their body move as they walk, the soft timbre of their voice.

so of course, agatha spots yikyung from across the center from the moment she walked in. her eyes bore into his, waiting until he catches her gaze. tilting her head ever so slightly, as to not raise any suspicion, she motions for him to follow her. it was hard to find a secluded spot in a center filled with other students coming in and out of the pool to others drinking booze closer to the walls, but the storage area where they store the pool's equipment should be well enough.

sohee was already well aware she’s not made to work conventional jobs, but working the d&d booth for just one day was enough to prove it beyond any doubt. following someone else’s orders, doing the same task over and over, the horrifying concept of a “break” being only ten minutes long, and a food break being just thirty. it’s cruel. inhumane. and even then, she didn’t really do it properly. she got distracted. she wandered. she may or may not have pretended not to hear people calling her name.

after avoiding the booth for basically the entirety of saturday, the rest of the club made sure to keep their eyes glued on her on sunday. a coordinated surveillance effort, practically. incredibly unfair, she exclaims, but she also can’t argue that it’s not deserved. maybe one day she’ll be free of the consequences of her own actions, but until then she just has to suck it up and live with it.

when her food break finally comes around, sohee practically skips away from the booth, making a beeline for the food truck area like she’s just been released from captivity. everything suddenly feels beautiful. the sun is just warm enough that it feels like a hug and not like she’s baking alive, her ankle is magically healed. perfect, beautiful, heaven on earth.

she walks the row of food trucks like she hasn’t already memorized the menu of each one, dramatically weighing her options. she already knows she’s going to be on break until one of her club members physically drags her back, so she might as well make it count.

the first thing to catch her eye is the churro truck she’d been dreaming about since friday, the one that tragically ran out of stock just before she got to the front. heartbreaking. soul-crushing. today, though, they still have some. she checks the window three times just to be sure. she stands in line, practically vibrating with excitement, her head bouncing along with the music playing from the truck’s speakers. nothing could ever ruin this moment. not work. not guilt. not even—

“hey, sorry—would you mind if i took the last one?”

the voice cuts in from behind her. familiar. annoying. she turns around slowly, as if giving the offender one last chance to not be who she suspects it is.

but, of course, it is. of course.

her eyes narrow instantly. her distaste triples. the audacity.

jeongmin can clearly recall the first time a package was mistakenly delivered to him. the calls were the first annoyance of the whole ordeal, a poor employee ringing him to let him know his stuff had arrived, the faked enthusiasm in their voice clearly displaying the working conditions of the staff, just to be met with a crude reply. “i haven’t ordered anything.” followed by the empty dial tone of a hung up call. they persisted the next day, same voice, same fake tone. and jeongmin replied just the same. after three days, the voice turned slightly threatening. 

“if you don’t pick up this parcel by the end of the day we will be forced to get rid of it.”

“ok, then get rid of it.”

finally, he thought. 

it wasn’t over, though. it took less than a week for another call about another package to come in. “i thought you got rid of it.” was the first thing he said as he picked up the phone, no greeting. they explained to him that they did in fact get rid of that package, but that this was another one, and if he could come please pick it up soon, thank you very much. at this point, jeongmin was sure something out there was messing with him. hermes, perhaps? was he acting too out of line at track practice that now he was getting punished by the god of athletes and messengers himself? he couldn’t help but pick it up now, maybe there was something divine in the package, some sort of revelation he desperately sought. 

nah, it was just some shit from depop.

at least he was finally able to figure out the issue, the packages were meant to be delivered to some han yikyung, though his dorm number was written on them. faking a smile, he walked back to the gaeum building mail center and tried to explain the situation, but they wouldn’t take the package back from him because, according to their system, it was delivered to him and he had already received it. they didn’t even bother to offer a solution, and jeongmin couldn’t even feel bad for the poor student that was anxiously waiting for packages that would never show up. 

the packages never stopped showing up, and he started hoarding them like a dragon that slept on a bed of gold coins, amazed by the stubbornness of said han yikyung. like, maybe, perhaps, check you’re writing down the correct address before you check out? it took some investigating— asking seolran— to figure out who the packages belonged to. it made sense, it was someone that lived on the same floor as him, though he never crossed paths with him. not until this moment.

much to the dismay of the rest of the track team, jeongmin likes to start his days fairly early, before the campus gets too crowded and the uv rays get too strong. locking the door behind him as he leaves his dorm, he bumps into a figure he can only describe as zombie-like. brooding, sluggish, incoherent, just the guy he was looking for.

one can say that kangmin was born for this job. literally. he'd been born for this job. growing up he'd spent a lot of his time after school playing with a bunch of friends or here - at the fried chicken store. it honestly isn't that bad of a stint either, he's surrounded by the smell of chicken, it's at a pretty nice location, and he's got a know-in with the owner since he's the son and all - hooray, nepotism! the only downside he can think of is the fact that the pay is absolutely shit (see: he doesn't get paid at all, because he's the son - boo, nepotism).

it's fine though, really, kangmin thinks it's the least he can do for his family. and there's something about working at a family-run business that makes him happy. this time though, he's been tasked with training the new part-timer. the cute, pretty, adorable, part-timer. the one with a face like adonis with the unholy ability to send kangmin's brain crashing like a windows xp.

still as gorgeous as the boy may seem to kangmin, he's well aware of the fact that he needs to maintain some form of professionalism and not stare at him all wide-eyed like he was auditioning for a role on 'i-fell-for-my-coworker's/schoolmate's-face'. no! which quite frankly, isn't as hard as he'd thought it would be, because yikyung is... yikyung isn't the best at the job so far, and they've been raking in customers like there's no tomorrow.

they're standing by the cashier, as kangmin describes the mechanics of it all. "usually we ask for card or cash, that's pretty straightforward. but we've got a combo button here, for easier uh," what's the word, what's the word, "... access." nice. his brain is freezing up. he leans in, body towering over yikyung's slightly as he points at the button, "and you just have to click here." nice nice.

"it's easy to mess up though - trust me. i made a customer pay over a hundred dollars once," a terrible memory, but kangmin digresses, "so if you ever piss a customer off, just you know - be nice? customer service? i guess that's key," good job, he nods his head, very professional. "... you're really pretty though, so i don't think i could get mad at you," ah, nevermind.

12. A(nother) movie that holds a special place in your heart?

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” This was the first movie I saw in the theater with the man that would become The Hub. Also, it marked the first time I watched a movie and was left with intensely tingly feelings about fictional characters (Ron Weasley & Draco Malfoy).

16. A film you love but everyone else hates?