Mumu🐼🌸☁️

You choked on your drink, laughing. “What?!”

“No, seriously,” Han jumped in. “She’s so boring. And I mean boring. She speaks like she’s in a TED Talk about air.”

“She said bananas were ‘too sugary’ the other day,” Seungmin muttered. “Bananas. The most innocent fruit.”

You couldn’t help it — you burst out laughing. It felt good. It felt like old times. Like before everything broke.

“She’s just… not you,” Han said softly, almost like he regretted saying it out loud.

You froze.

“I mean,” he added quickly, “not that we’re comparing or anything, but like—”

“No,” you interrupted, still smiling faintly. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“Do you miss him?” Seungmin asked, softer now.

You thought for a second.

Do I?

“…Not him,” you said. “Just the way he made me feel. Back then. When it was real.”

There was silence in the car, and for a moment, it felt like grief had settled between all of you — but it wasn’t heavy. It was soft now. Manageable.

From the backseat, Hyunjin finally spoke, eyes still on his phone.

“Word is… he misses you.”

You turned around slowly.

“…What?”

Hyunjin shrugged. “He’s been asking about you lately. Like, through people. Quietly. Like a coward.”

Han blinked. “Wait, what? You didn’t tell us that!”

“Because it’s stupid,” Hyunjin replied. “He had her. He chose her. End of story.”

You turned back to the wheel.

You didn’t know how to feel.

But the world decided for you.

Your phone buzzed in the cupholder.

You glanced down.

One name.

One message.

Bang Chan.

“Hey… can we talk?”

—

You were doing dishes when your phone vibrated against the kitchen counter.

Nothing special. Just another night.

Just another calm, boring, blessed night.

But your heart stopped the second you saw the name.

Chan.

The name still sat in your phone.

Not “Bang Chan.” Not “Chris.”

Just Chan — like a scar you didn’t cover up but never really looked at.

It had been years.

Actual years.

Since you had last heard his voice, seen his face, or felt the damage of being invisible to the one who once called you his entire world.

And now?

Now he wanted to talk?

You didn’t open the message right away.

You made yourself finish rinsing the plate in your hands.

But you were trembling so hard you nearly dropped it.

---

Bang Chan [12:04 AM]

Hey… can we talk?

That alone could’ve been enough to break something in you.

But you didn’t respond.

So he kept writing.

---

Bang Chan [12:07 AM]

I know I’m the last person you want to hear from.

I just… I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.

I don’t know if you ever think about me too.

Bang Chan [12:09 AM]

I know what I did was unforgivable.

I chose wrong. I was weak. I thought it would hurt less if I left first.

But God, it hasn’t stopped hurting since.

You blinked slowly.

Each message cut into you.

Not because they were true.

But because they weren’t.

He still made himself the victim.

Still painted the breakup like it had just “happened” — like he didn’t choose her, like he didn’t leave you gasping for air while they celebrated in public.

The silence between you had lasted years.

And now he wanted you to open your chest again? For what?

For another slow death?

---

Bang Chan [12:14 AM]

She’s… different.

I thought I wanted quiet. Simplicity. No drama.

But she’s not like you. She doesn’t light up a room.

She doesn’t make me laugh.

She doesn’t challenge me. Not like you did.

The audacity.

You actually laughed.

It was dry and bitter and loud enough to scare your cat off the couch.

He wanted fire again now that he’d lived in cold.

Too bad. You had burned for him before — burned and melted and became ash.

Now there was nothing left for him to warm his hands on.

---

Bang Chan [12:18 AM]

Sometimes I sit in the studio and just stare at the wall.

I can’t write like I used to.

I keep trying to make songs that sound like you.

Like your laugh. Your anger. Your softness.

But all I hear is static.

I miss you.

---

You looked at the blinking cursor in the message box.

You could say a thousand things.

You could scream. You could cry. You could ask why — even though you knew the answer already.

But the person who wanted to beg him to come back… she didn’t live here anymore.

You were someone else now. Someone stronger.

Someone quieter.

But God, it still hurt.

---

Then one more message came. The last one. The one that felt like a final straw tossed gently on an already burning pile.

Bang Chan [12:23 AM]

Can I see you?

Just once.

I just… I need to see your eyes again.

Please.

You stared at the words for a long time.

The kitchen light hummed softly above you. The world was still.

And inside your chest, a war.

You didn’t answer.

You just locked the phone.

Then picked up the towel and went back to drying the dishes.

Because just like that…

you were the one who left him waiting.

---

He looked small on your couch.

You hadn’t seen him in over a year — not really.

And yet, he sat in your living room like a ghost from another life.

You crossed your arms and stood, refusing to sit. Your heart was pounding, but not from love.

From anger.

“I almost didn’t let you in,” you began.

Your voice was low. Controlled. Too controlled.

Chan didn’t speak. Just nodded.

You scoffed. “Right. No defense this time?”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he said softly. “I just wanted to talk.”

“No,” you snapped. “You came here to feel better about what you did.”

He winced. “That’s not—”

“You left me when I needed you the most, Chan. When I was in pieces. When my whole world had just... collapsed.”

Silence.

“You remember, don’t you?” your voice cracked. “When we lost the baby.”

His eyes closed. His jaw clenched. But still, he said nothing.

“I was bleeding. I was in pain. I was grieving. And you—”

You swallowed hard.

“You started pulling away. Day by day. Until one day, you didn’t come back.”

---

He looked up, guilt carved deep into every feature.

“I didn’t know how to—”

“Don’t!” you snapped. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know how to be there. You knew how to be there for her. You knew how to smile for the cameras with her. How to make her feel like she mattered.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“You and I were together for years, Chan. five years. You knew I wanted a future with you. Marriage. Kids. A life.”

He looked away.

“And you knew it still, even after I lost our baby.”

Your throat tightened, but the rage was stronger than the tears.

“And then you go and play happy family with a woman you’ve known for eight months? You give her the public posts. The couple bracelets. The photoshoots. Everything I begged you for.”

You laughed, bitter and shaking.

“She was never hidden. Not for a second. Because she looks the part, right? Pale skin. Thin face. Pretty little Korean girl the company could market.”

“Don’t do that,” he whispered. “It wasn’t about that.”

“Then what the fuck was it about, Chan?!” you shouted.

His shoulders jumped — but he didn’t speak.

---

“I gave you everything. My body. My loyalty. My silence. My child.”

Your voice cracked. “And you gave me nothing but shadows.”

He finally looked up — and there were tears in his eyes. But they didn’t move you.

“Why couldn’t you love me in the light?” you whispered. “Why did I have to be your secret while she got to be your trophy?”

“I was scared,” he said finally. “Of what people would say. Of how the company would react. Of losing everything.”

“And you did,” you said. “You lost me.”

---

You sat across from him, staring at the broken man in front of you.

“I used to dream of marrying you,” you said quietly. “Of seeing you hold our child one day. I stayed even after the loss, because I thought we’d heal together.”

He was crying now, silent and ashamed.

“But you didn’t want to heal,” you said. “You wanted to pretend it never happened. You wanted someone easy. Clean. Convenient.”

His voice shook. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did hurt me. And now you’re here in my home, what—looking for forgiveness? Redemption? Closure?”

He shook his head, broken. “I just… I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. And that I never stopped loving you.”

---

That silenced the room.

For a second, it felt like the past tried to crawl back in.

But then you stood.

“Love without action is worthless,” you said. “You had me. And you let me suffer alone. You let me bleed alone. You let me cry for a future you destroyed.”

He stood too — slower, like the weight of everything had finally sunk in.

“I was weak,” he said. “And selfish.”

You nodded. “Yes, you were.”

---

He stepped toward you. Carefully. As if you might shatter.

“I think about you every day.”

“That’s not my problem anymore.”

He stopped.

“I wanted to come back sooner, but I didn’t know if you’d even speak to me.”

“And yet, here we are,” you said coldly. “But it changes nothing.”

“Can I—” he hesitated. “Can I see you again? Just to talk?”

You stared at him. Long and hard.

“I don’t know, Chan,” you said. “Because every time I see you, I remember how you chose her when I was bleeding.”

---

And with that… you opened the door.

He stood there, unmoving. Then he nodded. Slowly.

“I deserved that,” he said.

“Yes,” you whispered. “You did.”

He stepped out, and for once — he didn’t look back.

You closed the door.

This time, you were the one leaving him outside.

It hit him in the smallest moments.

The way she smiled at the camera without even looking at him.

The way she flinched when he touched her waist in public.

The way conversations with her died after two or three sentences.

Chan blinked at the woman sitting across from him at dinner. Beautiful. Polished. Sweet.

But the silence between them was suffocating.

She wasn’t you.

She never was.

---

He remembered the way you used to sit sideways on chairs, always barefoot, always warm.

The way you’d steal food off his plate like it was your right.

The way you’d talk about names for future babies like you’d already seen them in your dreams.

You were messy. Soft. Chaotic.

And so full of life.

You were real.

And she?

She was curated. Fragile. Pretty like an accessory.

He looked at her now and felt…

Nothing.

---

When they went home, she kissed him like she was checking a box.

No hunger. No spark. No love.

He tried — God, he tried — to respond.

But when he closed his eyes, it was your body he remembered.

The curve of your hips.

The way you’d sigh his name when he made love to you slow.

The way you always looked at him like he was your entire world — even when he didn’t deserve it.

---

He turned away from his current girlfriend that night, unable to sleep.

He had traded depth for simplicity.

A universe for a quiet surface.

And now, he was drowning.

---

In the shower, he found your old shampoo bottle.

He had brought it here months ago, trying to "move on."

But the scent… God, the scent was still you.

And it broke him.

---

He sat on the bathroom floor, water still dripping from his hair, head in his hands.

“I had her,” he whispered to himself. “I had the one.”

---

He remembered every moment he snuck out while you slept.

How he’d drive to meet the other woman, chasing something new — something exciting.

But now, all he could remember was the sight of your sleeping face.

The curve of your back. The way you clutched a pillow like it was him.

He left you in that bed — for what?

An orgasm?

A thrill?

You would’ve given him both — and love.

He had you, his home. And he ran.

---

He touched the old scar on his arm.

You’d cleaned that wound after a rough night on tour.

You didn’t sleep. You just held him, whispering that he didn’t have to carry it all alone.

Now?

Now he carried everything alone.

---

The next morning, his girlfriend tried to joke about something online. He forced a smile.

But all he could hear was your laughter — loud, reckless, always from your belly.

She looked confused.

“You okay?” she asked.

He stared at her. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But he wasn’t tired.

He was hollow.

---

He scrolled through his old phone.

Found pictures of you in hoodies. Messy buns. Your goofy grins. Your middle finger aimed at the lens.

You were alive.

Real.

Warm.

And he had thrown you away like you were replaceable.

But you weren’t.

---

You were the mother of the children he never had.

The future he never fought for.

The home he abandoned while it was still burning.

And now?

Now all he had was this lifeless relationship with a woman who would never ask about his scars.

Never scream with him in the car to his demo tracks.

Never lay her head on his chest and whisper about forever.

---

Because she wasn't you.

And she never would be.

He stood in front of her door like a ghost.

Eyes swollen. Breath shallow.

It had taken him weeks to ask for this meeting — and hours just to knock.

When she opened the door, he almost didn’t recognize her.

Not because she looked different.

But because she looked... whole.

---

“Hi,” he croaked. “Can I… Can I talk to you?”

She hesitated, arms crossed. But eventually stepped aside.

He walked into the same apartment where he used to live.

Where their love used to breathe.

Now, it smelled like candles he didn’t recognize.

It looked like a home he didn’t belong to.

---

She sat across from him. Calm. Still.

But her eyes were sharp — not angry, just guarded.

He was the one shaking.

---

“I miss you,” he said.

Nothing.

“I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Still nothing.

“I left the love of my life for something that didn’t mean a thing.”

Her lips parted — not to speak, but to sigh. Exhausted.

“You already told me that," she whispered. “In that long message you sent. In the flowers. The voice note.”

“I know, but—” he leaned forward, voice breaking, “I need to say it to your face.”

---

He fell to his knees in front of her.

“I was scared,” he said, tears streaming now. “Scared of how much I loved you. Scared of losing fans. Scared of the life you dreamed of — marriage, babies — and I was too much of a coward to say I wanted it too.”

She stared down at him. Silent.

“I thought I could replace you,” he choked. “I thought someone more ‘acceptable’ would make my life easier. But nothing’s easy without you.”

He grabbed her hands.

“I’ll never find another you. I don’t even want to. Just... please. Please let me try again. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you my name. A family. Everything. Just come back to me.”

---

She slowly pulled her hands from his.

Then stood.

And when she spoke, her voice was soft — but it cut like a blade.

---

“You’re not wrong,” she said. “You really did lose me.”

His breath hitched.

“I loved you more than anything, Chan. I waited for years. Hoped you’d fight for me. Hoped you'd stand beside me. You left me during the worst moment of my life — when I was grieving our baby.”

His eyes filled again. “I know. I know—”

“I don’t think you do.” Her voice wavered now, but only slightly. “Because if you did, you’d understand why I can forgive you… but I’ll never belong to you again.”

---

His whole body froze.

“I forgive you,” she repeated, clearly. “I forgive you for being scared. For choosing her. For not protecting us when I needed you most.”

She took a step back.

“But that’s all you get. My forgiveness. Not my love. Not my future.”

---

He fell apart on her floor.

Cried like he never had — not even when he lost her the first time.

Because now he understood: she wasn't coming back.

And this time, he wasn’t losing a girlfriend.

He was losing his forever.

---

She watched him crumble.

And for a moment… she cried too.

But she turned around, wiped her cheeks, and walked toward the door.

Right before she opened it, she looked over her shoulder one last time.

---

“You wanted forgiveness,” she said gently. “You got it.”

She blinked, eyes glossy.

“But if you wanted me… you should’ve fought for me before I stopped waiting.”

---

And then she was gone.

Leaving him behind.

Like he once left her.

It had been months.

He hadn’t seen her since that day in her apartment — the day she told him she forgave him but wouldn’t come back.

He thought about her every day.

Sometimes he’d dream of her voice. Her laugh. The way she used to fold his clothes even though he told her not to.

He’d wake up reaching for a pillow, hoping it smelled like her.

But it never did.

She was gone.

And he thought the worst part was knowing she wouldn’t come back.

He was wrong.

The worst part was seeing her again.

---

It happened at a small event.

A birthday party for one of their mutual friends. He almost didn’t go — but something in him said maybe, just maybe, she’d be there.

She was.

Wearing a soft pink dress.

With her hair down.

Smiling so wide, it made his chest physically ache.

But she wasn’t alone.

He stood frozen as he saw her — hand in hand — with someone else.

Someone new.

---

The guy was tall. Not flashy. Just… calm.

He had one hand around her waist and the other gently guiding her through the crowd.

She looked safe with him.

Happy.

Not the forced kind of happy he’d seen on her face during the last few months they were together — not the smile that said “please love me even though I’m invisible.”

This smile was genuine. Effortless.

Like she had finally exhaled.

---

He turned away before she could see him.

But even from across the room, he could still hear her laugh.

It used to be his favorite sound.

Now it made his heart sink.

He grabbed a drink he wouldn’t finish and stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air like it could freeze the pain inside him.

---

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

She had moved on.

She had found someone who wasn’t ashamed to love her in the open.

Someone who held her close, not in secret.

Someone who didn’t choose fear over her.

And Chan?

He was still living in that apartment alone.

Still waking up to silence.

Still wondering what would’ve happened if he had chosen her sooner.

---

He smiled bitterly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Good,” he whispered to no one. “She looks happy.”

He wiped his eyes before they fell.

“She deserves it.”

And this time, he didn’t mean I want her back.

He meant: I’m glad she’s free.

---

---

The weeks passed like an old romantic movie:

He’d film you while you slept.

You ran your fingers through his hair until time didn’t matter.

The two of you learned how to exist in the same silence.

And for a while, it really felt like the world was yours.

You went on a short trip to a quiet town where no one knew your names.

You shared a small room, a narrow bed, and whispered promises in the dark.

“We’re gonna last, right?”

You asked after a nightmare.

He kissed your forehead.

“We’re gonna grow old together.”

And you believed him.

How could you not?

Chan said things like he was painting them with his voice.

And you loved like you were finally learning to do it right.

---

He introduced you as “my person.”

And that’s exactly how you felt.

Chosen. Safe.

Loved, finally.

You had silly nicknames, shared favorite songs, and your own little space in his closet.

Even his mom liked you.

She texted you just to ask if you’d eaten well.

It was so easy to love him.

So easy to picture a future.

So easy to smile just because he was there.

---

You didn’t know — and maybe he didn’t either —

that your love had an expiration date.

That somewhere in the distance,

another woman was already being written into his story.

Even though the pen still felt like it was in your hand.

But that…

was later.

Right now?

You were his.

And he…

felt entirely yours.

You started noticing the little things first.

He still kissed you in the morning — but not as long.

He still texted you goodnight — but sometimes just with an emoji.

He still came over — but his bag always looked half-packed, like he was ready to leave again.

At first, you didn’t think much of it.

Maybe he was tired. Maybe the studio hours were getting longer. Maybe he was just going through something and didn’t know how to talk about it yet.

You were understanding.

You always were.

You made his favorite dinner one night — spicy tteokbokki and cold soda — the one you always made when he was stressed.

He smiled, kissed your cheek, and said:

“You didn’t have to do all this…”

But his eyes didn’t light up the way they used to.

He ate slowly. Quietly. Barely touched his drink.

And later, when you curled into his chest on the couch, he stayed stiff for just a second too long before relaxing.

You pretended not to notice.

You told yourself it was nothing.

But deep down, something inside you began to ache.

---

He started working late more often.

Sometimes he didn’t even say goodnight.

And when he did, it was rushed — like a chore, not a feeling.

“I’m just tired, babe.”

“I’ve just got a lot on my plate.”

“Don’t worry so much, okay?”

You nodded every time.

Because that’s what love does. It waits.

It trusts.

It forgives, even before the apology comes.

But you still found yourself staring at the ceiling after midnight, wondering if he was sleeping somewhere else.

Or with someone else.

---

You used to be able to feel him even when he wasn’t touching you.

Now, he could be lying right next to you… and still feel miles away.

He stopped bringing you coffee in the morning.

Stopped sending pictures of his lunch or little selfies from the studio.

The playlists he used to make you every month just… stopped.

When you asked if something was wrong, he smiled and said:

“You’re overthinking again, love. Everything’s fine.”

But everything was not fine.

You could feel it in the way he held his phone tighter.

In the way he turned the screen away when you passed behind him.

In the way he suddenly started going out more, but didn’t invite you along.

---

One night, you sat at the edge of the bed, clutching the hem of your shirt, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Chan… do you still love me?”

He looked up from his phone.

Blinking. Confused. Or pretending to be.

“Of course I do.”

But it came out too fast.

Too smooth.

Like a rehearsed line he’d said too many times to mean anymore.

He leaned over, kissed your forehead — not your lips — and turned off the light.

And you laid there, eyes wide open in the dark, feeling like a guest in your own love story.

---

You told yourself that all couples go through phases.

That maybe things would go back to normal soon.

That he just needed time. Space. Understanding.

But a part of you — the part that knew him best — had already started grieving.

Grieving a love that hadn’t ended yet.

But was clearly… ending.

---

You didn’t mean to see it.

You weren’t the kind of person who checked phones or looked over shoulders. You believed in privacy — in trust.

But when his phone buzzed across the table that night, and the name flashed briefly on the screen…

you froze.

Sooyeon.

With a heart.

Just a name.

Just a notification.

Just one second.

But everything inside you went still

“Who’s Sooyeon?”

You tried to sound casual.

Calm. Like the name didn’t taste bitter in your mouth.

He blinked, shrugged.

“Just someone from work.”

And that was it.

No explanation. No details.

Just enough to make you feel ridiculous for even asking.

You didn’t press further.

You never did.

Because you were afraid of the answers.

---

The days after that felt like walking barefoot through glass.

You started noticing the cologne — one you didn’t buy.

A faint scent of floral perfume clinging to his clothes — one that didn’t belong to you.

Lip balm marks on his coffee lid in a shade you didn’t own.

He’d come home with new playlists. Songs you’d never heard.

He hummed them under his breath. One had the word “her” in the chorus.

You wanted to ask,

but every time the question reached your throat,

it got stuck behind your ribs.

Because the truth wasn’t hiding anymore.

It was dancing in plain sight —

and you were pretending to be blind.

---

You googled her name one night.

Just to see.

Just to make it real.

And there she was.

Pretty. Soft-spoken. Smiling in every photo like the world belonged to her.

She had a voice like velvet and posts about self-love.

The kind of girl that writes captions like “I don’t chase, I attract.”

You stared at her for too long.

And then at yourself.

Barefaced.

Exhausted.

Trying so hard to hold together something that was already slipping through your fingers.

You started sleeping in separate directions.

Not officially. Just… gradually.

Your backs faced each other more often.

He rolled away instead of closer.

You tried kissing him one night, hoping he’d pull you in like he used to.

But he kissed back like it was a favor.

Like he was somewhere else.

---

“Chan, are you seeing someone else?”

It came out on a Tuesday. Quiet. Shaking.

He didn’t answer right away.

Just ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Like the question itself was exhausting.

“Why would you even ask that?”

He said it like you were the problem.

Like you were ruining everything by naming what was already real.

You didn’t cry.

Not then.

You just nodded and said,

“Sorry.”

And that word — sorry — sat between you like a ghost.

---

That night, he left early.

Said he had a meeting.

Said he wouldn’t be late.

You didn’t ask where.

You didn’t check the time.

You just laid in bed,

curled around a memory that didn’t fit anymore,

and whispered the name you weren’t supposed to know.

Sooyeon.

---

He didn’t come home that night.

He didn’t call.

Didn’t text.

Didn’t even pretend.

You laid in bed with your phone clutched to your chest, staring at the screen until it went dark.

And then you stared at the dark.

For hours.

When the key finally turned in the lock at 4:16 a.m., you didn’t move.

You heard him kick off his shoes.

Heard the soft sound of him placing his phone face-down on the counter.

He walked past the bedroom like a stranger passing through a hotel room.

And when the bed dipped beneath his weight, he didn’t say a word.

Neither did you.

You just closed your eyes and listened to the space between your bodies —

a space that used to be full of warmth,

now echoing with goodbye.

---

In the morning, he left without kissing you.

No “Have a good day.”

No “I love you.”

Just the sound of the door shutting like punctuation.

And silence.

You sat in the kitchen for hours.

Cold coffee.

Hot tears.

The ache in your chest louder than the clock ticking.

That evening, when he came back,

you didn’t wait for him to lie again.

You stood in front of the door, blocking his way.

Eyes swollen.

Voice steady.

“Just tell me.”

He looked tired.

Not sad.

Not guilty.

Just… tired.

"Tell you what?”

His voice was soft. Distant.

“That you love her?”

You whispered.

“That you don’t love me anymore?”

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t say her name.

Didn’t say yours either.

Just looked at the floor.

And then at you.

And in that moment,

you saw everything fall apart.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

His voice cracked, barely.

“But it did.”

You swallowed the scream inside you.

“Was I not enough?”

“No, you were— you are,” he said quickly.

“You just... stopped being it for me.”

And with that, something inside you collapsed.

Not just your heart.

But your sense of self.

Your safety.

Your home.

Because Chan wasn’t just your boyfriend.

He was your everything.

Your best friend.

Your morning smile.

Your comfort on bad days.

And now…

he belonged to someone else.

---

“Why didn’t you just leave sooner?”

Your voice shook.

“Before you turned me into an option?”

He didn’t answer.

Because the answer didn’t matter anymore.

The damage was done.

---

That night, you packed a bag.

Not because he asked you to.

But because you couldn’t stay where love had already died.

As you closed the suitcase, he stood by the door — still not stopping you.

Still not fighting.

Just watching.

Like someone watching a fire burn out.

You paused once.

Hand on the doorknob.

“I hope she makes you happy.”

You whispered.

“But I hope, one day, you remember the way I loved you…

and it hurts.”

Then you left.

And he didn’t follow.

---

You didn’t mean to see it.

You weren’t following him anymore.

You had muted the tags, archived the photos, deleted the playlist.

You were trying.

But the internet doesn’t care about healing.

The internet shows you exactly what you don’t ask for.

It was just a clip.

Twelve seconds.

A grainy video of him walking hand-in-hand with her.

Her.

The name you stopped saying out loud.

He was smiling.

He pulled her close when a fan got too near.

He laughed. He waved. He looked proud.

And she?

She looked untouched by doubt.

Untouched by the version of him that left you behind.

---

It took you a moment to breathe again.

Because he had never held your hand in public like that.

Not once.

Because you spent years being “private” —

always in the background, always hidden, always waiting for the day he’d stop calling you his “close friend” in interviews.

You used to tell yourself it was about his career.

About timing.

About pressure.

But now you saw it for what it was:

He just didn’t want the world to know about you.

Not like he wanted them to know about her.

---

You watched another video the next day.

He was at a fanmeet. Someone asked about his “girlfriend.”

And he smiled.

“She’s amazing. She makes me really happy.”

He said it.

Out loud.

In front of cameras.

With no fear, no shame, no hesitation.

And you?

You stared at the screen, numb,

remembering how he once told you:

“Let’s keep us just between us, okay? It’s safer.”

Safer for who?

---

You started remembering things that didn’t feel warm anymore.

How you used to cook for him while he scrolled through his phone.

How you’d stay up late waiting, and he’d say “Don’t be dramatic.”

How you gave him every soft part of yourself…

and he never said thank you.

And now, he was giving it all to her.

The affection.

The time.

The visibility.

She got the version of him you begged for.

She got the love you built —

without the pain you bled for it.

---

One night, you saw a post of them together.

Smiling. Laughing.

Wearing matching shirts — something he once said he’d “never do.”

The caption read:

“My best friend and my home. ❤️”

And you cried.

For the first time in weeks.

You cried so hard your chest ached,

because you realized something no one prepares you for:

He didn’t just stop loving you.

He started loving someone else better.

---

You used to think the hardest part would be losing him.

But it wasn’t.

It was seeing that he had it in him all along —

the sweetness, the pride, the loyalty —

he just chose not to give it to you.

Even in the end…

he never gave you everything.

---

So you stopped wondering if he missed you.

Stopped hoping he regretted it.

Because some endings don’t come with closure.

Some just…

leave you bleeding quietly

while someone else gets the happy you prayed for.

---

She has him now.

But not because you weren’t enough.

Only because he finally decided to be everything…

for someone who wasn’t you.

And that —

You’ve spent the last three days avoiding Hyunjin. It’s been hard, seeing him in class and doing everything to avoid contact. Leaving before he has the chance to get out of his seat. Arriving to class just in time so that he can’t catch you before the lecture starts. You don’t think you’ve ever speed walked this much in your life either. 

You should have just blamed the damn alcohol.

For some reason, though, you didn’t. Instead you forgot all about the easy out you had and immediately jumped to the awkward I really don’t want to talk about what I did so I’m going to treat you like the plague method. And you know Hyunjin has noticed—there’s no way he hadn’t with how he kept trying to disrupt your schedule and catch you off guard, and you managed to dodge it every time with incredible luck. Where was this last semester when he was making every day hell for you?

You’re pretty sure you’re in the clear, touching up your mascara while you chat with Felix by the fountain in the courtyard. No Hyunjin in sight. “I don’t know. I mean, Jisung is really nice, he’s cute too. I don’t think he’ll be a bad date at all.”

Felix nods at your words, taking them in with an open mind as he gulps down his yogurt. “I don’t think he would be either… what I would really be worrying about, is if you’re going to be a bad date.”

You blink away the bit of product that made it’s way into your eye at the surprise statement your best friend just made. “Why would I be a bad date?”

Felix finishes his last bit of his yogurt, lightly patting his chest to help him get the rather large bite get down his throat. “Well I mean, you’re like, not into him like that.” 

“What do you mean? I’m like,” you stutter in hesitation. Maybe you didn’t have the fattest crush on Jisung, but the guy did make you feel things sometimes. “I’m like, super into him. He’s the only guy I’ve been into for a while, actually.”

“Yeah, o-kay,” Felix scoffs, pushing himself off the fountain to make his way towards a recycling bin. “Because you just stare at Hyunjin with longing eyes platonically.”

“I do not stare at him longingly!” You squeak, fighting any sort of blush. Why the hell would he say that—let alone out in the open like this?

He smirks at you as he tosses his yogurt cup into the nearest bin like a basketball, looking like he’d gained something from your statement. “But you do stare at him. Maybe its not really a longing thing, but you look at him like you want to eat him. Or even, like you want him to eat you.”

“Felix don’t say that, that sounds so wrong.” You shake your head at him, ignoring the heat rising in your face. “Plus, that’s not true. You have to quit this, I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. I’m going on a date—”

“You’re going on a date?”

Speak of…

“Oh, hey Hyunjin,” Felix waves, like he wasn’t just saying incredibly dangerous things about your relationship with the guy. 

“Hey Felix. [Y/N], you have a date?”

“I uh,” you  st art, not ready to finish the sentence. Instead, you hold your phone toward your face like a mirror again, pretending to still be fixing your makeup. “I have to go! See you later!”

“Wait—” Hyunjin tries, but your speeding away, still pretending to be applying mascara. You see Felix put a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder through your screen.

“Who is she going out with?” You can hear Hyunjin ask, his voice confused and even a bit upset. Maybe because you’ve been avoiding him. That has to be it.

Felix mumbles out an answer, but you’re too far to hear it now. Did he tell him? Does it even matter? Why can’t Hyunjin know about your date with Jisung? Why don’t you want to tell him?

——

The café is mostly empty, save for the low murmur of laptop clicks and coffee machines hissing steam behind the counter. You’re sat across from Jisung, a warm cup of chai in your hands—you’re trying to cut back on caffeine—your knees are brushing under the table. Its nice, the atmosphere, with him. He’s mid-sentence, laughing nervously in a way that makes you wish your stomach would flip for him.

Not even the way it does for…

You just want it to flutter, really.

“You know, you look really pretty today,” he barely gets out.

You smile, holding your drink closer to your frame as you try to ground yourself. No matter how much of a good, relaxing time you should be having, you feel like something’s wrong. Like you’re doing something wrong. The worst part is, you feel like you know why. “Thank you Jisung. You looked good too!”

And you mean it too. You don’t often see Jisung wearing anything other than a sweater that swallows him whole, so a t shirt that actually fits his frame properly and the jewelry thats not covered by a hood or sleeves is pretty refreshing. He blushes at your words, his hand rubbing his neck as he tries to fight the nerves threatening to take over. “Thanks, I wasn’t sure if I looked silly, to be honest.”

You stifle a laugh, bringing your coffee to your lips. It burns your mouth a bit, but any sensation is a distraction from the turmoil in your stomach. “No, it looks good. I didn’t know you owned anything in your size.”

Jisung can’t help but ease up a bit at that, rolling his eyes at your words. It’s not the way Hyunjin does it but… what are you talking about?

”Yeah yeah, you got me.”

Things loosen up a bit after that, the fog in your mind clearing up a little, and Jisung’s attitude shifting to a more comfortable one that makes you almost forget why you’d been biting the inside of your cheek the past quarter hour. 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. 

The little cafe’s door chime rings as he walks in, your head turning instinctively to look at the sound. He seems like he hadn’t meant to see you two there, but the pause in his step when he spots you says otherwise. His brows twitches just slightly before smoothing into something unreadable.

Hyunjin.

Too strong, too tall, too handsome Hyunjin who just can’t let you focus on your date with Jisung is at the cafe. 

You watch as he orders his drink quickly. Too quickly, like he has something to get to. And then, instead of waiting off to the side, he made his way over to your table. Did Felix tell him you were going to be here? Oh you’re going to kill him—

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” he said casually, eyes flicking between you two, lips pursed in a way that lets you know he isn’t pleased, but you can’t help but think he looks childish while doing it. 

You straighten in your seat, standing your ground. Too much about his approach feels like a challenge. “It’s a café, not a secret club.”

Hyunjin lets out a dry laugh. “Right. Just… didn’t realize this was a thing now.” His dramatic hands gesturing to you and Jisung in a ridiculous way. You can’t believe he’s really doing this right now.

Jisung shifts awkwardly, his hands dropping off th edge of the table into his lap. Poor guy. “We just… thought we’d hang out. It’s not—” he started, then stopped himself. “Well, I mean, it is but we didn’t hide it from you on purpose or anything. I-I mean we don’t really talk and it's our first one s-so…”

Hyunjin looks at him then—really looks—and something unreadable passes through his eyes. Then they jump to you. “Maybe.”

”Hyunjin, do you have to do this right now?” You all but groan. Can’t he just let you have this? Whatever it is?

“I didn’t mean to crash your party,” he says, almost mockingly. “I just didn’t know… that you were into Jisung. He’s not really what I’d expect from you.”

The silence after that hung heavy, awkward, and unmistakably angry.

Your face scrunches, eyebrows tensed and eyes squinting from his sheer audacity. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hyunjin opens his mouth, then closes it again, as if your tone had snapped him back into his right mind. God, what is he doing? He’s not supposed to be like this anymore. “No—no, I didn’t mean it like that. He’s great, you’re great, man—” he falters, then tries again. “It’s just… kind of sudden is what I meant.”

You stare him down, telepathically threatening him to ‘cut it out’, but he continues in an attempt to sound a little nicer. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I just—” He turns to you, expression softer now, more confused than anything. “I guess I didn’t know things had changed this much.”

“Can you just go?” You force out in the nicest tone you can manage. He looks full of regret, and maybe even fear for the consequences that follow regardless of his next move.

The barista calls out Hyunjin’s name. His face remains that of confusion as he goes to retrieve his drink, before he stops at your table one more time. 

“Sorry… see you around,” he mutters, hopefully full of guilt and embarrassment for the behavior he’d just displayed.

As he walks away, Jisung finally glanced up.

“You know, you have this look when you see him, no matter how you’re feeling.” he tries quietly. You can tell he doesn’t want to mess this up. “Like you're want something from him, for him to say or do something.”

“What are you talking about?” You question, still a little upset that Hyunjin had to come and ruin the mood.

“… When I asked you to go out with me, that night, I thought you would say no,” he lets out a laugh, staring at your hands, his eyes dimming. “Even that night, I knew I couldn’t compete with what you two had—-have… I just couldn’t not give it a shot.”

“Jisung…” You frown, starting to see where this is going. You can like Jisung, you aren’t into Hyunjin, you swear internally. Too bad you can’t seem to convince yourself either.

“I really like you, [Y/N],” his doe eyes staring into yours with more confidence than you’ve ever seen in them. “Which is why I think this is our last date. It’ll only hurt worse in the long run, and I can’t keep you from wanting him, even if I really want to.”

“I…” you what?

He smiles again, biting his lip nervously just a little bit, but it's just enough to pull at your heart strings. “It’s okay… I just want to finish my last date with you with my arm around you, is that okay?”

Goodness, he’s corny, but it's part of his charm.  You can’t help but give in, which is how the two of you wind up by the Han river, where you could swear everything between you and Hyunjin really changed. Except today, you don’t wish the guy you’re with would just kiss you. 

“So should I pick a fight with him or something now, for stealing my date?” Jisung jokes, backing away from you a bit, his grip loosening around your shoulders.

You shake your head, a little embarrassed by the implications, but can you really fight them anymore? “Yeah, give him a good liver punch for emotional damages to us both.” You crack a smile. 

It’s odd for you to think, that if you had met Jisung before Hyunjin’s return, you would have probably liked him more. That this woudn’t be your last date. Everything about him reminds you of what had you fawning over Hyunjin when you were younger. Now… something about it just doesn’t make your heart race or cheeks flush. 

Maybe Hyunjin was right. You have changed. 

You see a flash of him in your mind, spiky grown out buzz and punk rock clothes hanging off his frame with that damn all too confident smile.

Maybe your taste has too, unfortunately.

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“What did you say?” You say with an awkward laugh, smiling as if you couldn’t hear him over the music. After all, that must have been what happened, right? There was no way you heard Jisung correctly.

A little less confident this time, he repeats himself. “Would you uh, go out with me? Like on a date?”

“I uh,” you pause. A date… with Jisung? 

You’re about to say no, but honestly, why should you? Jisung is a nice guy. He’s sweet, gentle, you’d be damned to say he wasn’t cute too. The two of you get along really well, and you’re both single, so you can’t really see a reason as to why you shouldn’t give him a chance.

Out of the corner of your eye, newly highlighted blond streaks catch your eye. Hyunjin’s dancing figure, bright eyes focused at you as he throws a wink your way. Feeling the way your chest tightens, you focus your gaze back to Jisung. 

“I would—I would like to go out with you, Jisung.” Your smile is soft, genuine because you’re sure you’d enjoy your time, but you can’t help but struggle not to stare back at the form on the dancefloor.

He flushes red, eyes wide, jaw basically hanging off his face. “R-really? Cus I totally thought you were gonna say no and I would have totally understood—”

Hesitantly, you place a hand over his, trying to provide some comfort. You’re not too sure of how well its working, though, since you can feel your bones shaking and your skin sweating in nervousness. Did you really just agree to go on a date with your friend? “N-no! I want to go out with you, I mean, you’re really great. Sorry if I sounded weird about it.”

“I just don’t want to make things awkward or lose you as a friend,” he frowns slightly, probably in anxiety. You feel his hand grip his glass a bit tighter. “You mean a lot to me, [Y/N].”

For some reason, even if you say the same thing, it makes your stomach turn in the worst way. Maybe its because of how sincere and innocent his eyes seem to shine, or because your own can’t manage the same look. When he grins at you, so grateful and full of affection, you feel as though you’ve made such a grave mistake.

——

Eventually, Hyunjin manages to haul you and Jisung to the dancefloor, and you’re pleasantly surprised that Hyunjin seems to be genuinely enjoying Jisung’s company. Maybe its because they both seem to be natural born dancers, or because they’re both a bit tipsy, but it makes you forget about Jisung’s and your date that you’d agreed to earlier. 

The only thing really looming over you is how Hyunjin’s hands seem to ghost over you here and there, like he wants to dance with you more personally, but he’s afraid to push the boundary. Thank God, because honestly you’re not even sure what you would do about that.

Jisung isn’t too observant of it, luckily, but he in his own way attempts to pull you in. Taking your hand gently, hyping up your dances. Its the most confident you’ve ever seen him, and you’re proud but in turmoil at the same time. You thank the alcohol in your system for keeping you generally upbeat the whole time—other than when you had to pee twice in five minutes. 

After a few solid hours of dancing, talking, and sobering up, you all finally decide to call it quits. Hyunjin looks a little beat, but even like that he’s gorgeous. Hair messy from running his hands through it again and again, clothes slightly disheveled, a delicate drop in his eyelids that make him look like he was in love with whatever he was looking at. Yeah, its not fair to the rest of you how he manages to glow even in such a state. Jisung is in a similar boat, his normally messy hair a bit frizzier, eyes squinting beause honestly he’s still a little drunk, and his sweater that normally engulfs his entire being is actually in his arm rather than on his shoulders. It’s nice to see him so free. 

Jisung gets dropped off first, giving you a silly smile that shouldn’t remind you of the Hyunjin you’d once loved, but it does. “See you soon, yeah?” You nod, giving him a loose hug and readjusting in your seat. 

And then there were two. 

Hyunjin, though no longer under the influence of alcohol, is high on happiness. He had even given Jisung a little nod that he paired with a wave, his lips upturned as he watches him retreat. Who would’ve thought all they needed was to drink and dance together?

Hyunjin pulls away slowly, glancing at you in the rearview mirror a few times. The silence that follows isn’t too different than what it had sounded like when Jisung was in the car, but it is noticeably quieter. You weren’t cracking jokes the way he had been, and Hyunjin seemed to be thinking of something to say to fix that. 

“So, did you like it?” Hyunjin asks, turned slightly towards you, but keeping his eyes on the road. 

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you, “Yeah, it was neat.”

“Neat?” He asks, eyebrows raised at your word choice. “That’s all? Damn, I thought I had done a good job.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, I mean, you did. I thought it was really cool, sorry.”

He eyes you through the rearview mirror again, not quite sure if he wants to press asking about your awkward aura. He decides not to, though. Instead, he gives a proud look, “I told you I have taste still.”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave him off with a small laugh. 

Hyunjin had been nothing other than wonderful all night, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to have more of a conversation with him alone. Something in you is afraid of enjoying his presence any more than you already have been. 

Your mind flashes to his fingers grazing your back briefly on the dancefloor, how intently he had looked at you over and over. How you’d been fighting a blush all night because of him. How it had taken everything in you to not turn around, grab his face, and—

You gulp, squeezing your eyes shut tightly to clear your mind. Instead, you try to focus on the dim street lights leading towards your dorms. Hyunjin seems to notice the silence, since he turns on the radio to some quiet RnB station. You feel bad, making things awkward when he hasn’t really done anything to deserve it. 

So you decide to do something about it. “Hey Hyunjin?” You start, trying to seem confident. He hums and glances to his side to see you for a second, before bringing his eyes back to the road. You take a small breath, and continue. “I really had fun tonight. Thanks for inviting us.”

He smiles, really bright this time, like he’s truly proud of himself. And it makes your heart betray your head and flutter. Did he have to be so charming? “I’m glad, I really wanted you to enjoy everything.”

The car slowly pulls to a stop, and you find yourself hesitating to get out of the car. Even if the seats aren’t the most comfortable, and the upholstery is getting a little sweaty, you don’t want to get out yet. You want to talk more, maybe laugh more. And it’s eating you up inside how you sort of prefer that Jisung isn’t here anymore. 

Hyunjin turns to you, like he’s feeling the same way. His eyebrows are scrunched up and he almost looks too good to look away from. Your stomach warms. This is not good for you. You see him open his mouth to speak, and you snap out of it. 

“So I should uh…” You trail off, pulling your sweater higher up on your shoulder, but not really reaching for the seatbelt buckle. 

Hyunjin shuts his mouth, nodding. He wants to say something. Say it, say it. But he mutes himself, barely able to pull his eyes away from yours. The air is so thick, it feels suffocating, but not in a bad way. Just, a lot of everything. It makes the hair on your arms stick up, and the air in your lungs still, its almost too much. 

“I um…” he tries, gulping down his fear, but it isn’t enough. He wants to, you want him to(o), but he can’t. He shouldn’t, really. You have a date coming up, for goodness sake. “I’ll walk you in. Text me when you’re inside and the door’s locked, though. Okay?”

You nod, the both of you getting out the car, and walking a little too close, and a little too stiffly, to the dormitory doors. You two stop at the steps, staring at each other in silence, not sure what to do. 

Maybe the alcohol isn’t all out of your system.

At least, that would explain why you reach out and place an all too soft hand on his cheek and pecking it. You barely even notice your actions until you’ve rushed inside the building and shoved yourself into the elevator.  Oh God, you press your back against the backwall, Why did he have to make everything so difficult for you?

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It had been about two weeks since the whole thing in the shed. You’d made it back down the mountain a few days after getting locked in, and you hadn’t seen Hyunjin since.

Christmas came and went without much fuss between any of you. You’d all done your usual early gift exchange—low-key, a movie night the day before—so everyone could spend the actual holiday with their families.

The week after that, you were off campus, back at your family’s place with Felix since his flight back from Australia landed before the semester started up again. You hadn’t really texted Hyunjin during that time. Part of you was too unsure to reach out—and, thankfully, he hadn’t either.

Now, on the first day back in classes, you've barely had time to think about the guy. Gathering syllabuses, supplies, and finding your new classrooms had taken up your entire day. Not to mention, your energy as well. 

“I forgot how heavy sketchbooks are…” you mumble to yourself, sighing as you sag into your desk. One of the only classes that hadn’t changed with the semester—Illustration—you hum at the feeling of your familiar desk.  

Unfortunately, this class is also the only one to have an assignment due tomorrow. Concept sketches. Your professor thought it would be beneficial for you all to do concept sketches of where you want to be by the end of this semester—perhaps that meant being more social, or more conservative, or just the same—it just had to be realistically obtainable. 

You let out a deep sigh as you will yourself to start taking out some supplies from your bag. Sketchpads, pencil cases, eraser sets. You’re digging in your backpack for your laptop—conceptualizing your work in collages was one of your favorite things to do—when a voice interrupts your quiet ambiance. 

“Someone’s getting an early start on the homework,” Hyunjin’s voice breaks through the silence, his tone so chipper you can almost hear the grin on his face. 

You give him a quick glance before you return to tugging your laptop out of your bag. He drags his feet closer to your desk, his bag hanging from his hand, swinging as he makes his way closer to you. He leans against your desk, making the wood creak ever so slightly under his weight. 

You hear the grazing of fingers against paper and look up to see what Hyunjin could be doing, only to see him tracing along one of your sketchbook pages. “What’re you—” your words catch in your throat as you shove his hand away from the book and slam it closed, fighting off the blush threatening to fill your cheeks, “That’s old.”

Hyunjin’s smile doesn’t waiver, instead it grows as he trains his gaze on you. “Right… either way, thanks for making me look so handsome.” You shake your head, a small chuckle leaving from your lips at his words. Hyunjin stands there for another awkward second, before shoving his hands into his pockets and letting out a nervous breath. “So… there’s this like, underground concert this weekend…”

“You? Underground?” You laugh a bit, eyebrows raised in confusion at him, despite your joking tone. You knew Hyunjin always had an affinity for underappreciated art, but with his more updated taste, you weren’t sure that part of him had survived. 

“Yes, underground,” he glares at you, his smile still present on his lips. “would you go with me?”

You lick your lips, thinking it over. You had agreed to give Hyunjin some sort of chance, and be more civil with him… but you didn’t want to seem too forgiving too quickly. “I don’t know…”

He almost seems to scramble to convince you, his eyes pleading as he looks for the right words. “Okay, I get it if you don’t want to, but if you do go and you don’t like it, I’ll take you to do whatever you want. Whether you want food, or to go home, whatever it is. Just give it a chance, please?”

Hope rises in his chest at your consideration. 

“I’ll go,” you pause for a minute, giving him an analytical look. He only seems to look any sort of worried when your expression morphs into a more mischievous one. “but only if Jisung can come too.”

He seems to stiffen up a bit at that, his jaw dropping for only a second before he picks it back up and you can see it clenching from inside his mouth. The two of you have a silent moment that almost seems like a battle of sorts, but it only lasts a few seconds until he gives in, slouching in defeat. “Okay.”

“Well don’t sound too thrilled now,” you tease, seeing the visible disappointment on his face that he does his best to cover up. 

Even if you hadn’t seen Hyunjin much since that night, he had still put some effort into reconciliation. You hadn’t texted Hyunjin much since then, sure, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been texting you. Asking about your day, doing his best to drag you to a few parties, even sending you posts on social media. You just hadn’t been very reciprocal with your responses. You ignored as many posts as possible, dodged every gathering he had invited you to, and gave him curt answers to his questions. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him—you did to a degree, at least—but you didn’t really know how anymore. This level of friendship wasn’t something you could just fall back into, and you didn’t feel like trying too hard to find your way back to it. Hounestly, you’re surprised to say yes even today. Maybe it was the fact that you could already see the future stress you’d be feeling once this week ended, or maybe it was because he looked even more incredible after you hadn’t seen him in over a week, but whatever it was, you hope you don’t regret your decision.

——

You were right. 

The week had absolutely drained you, and while you aren’t a party person, some good music and alcohol could really lift your spirits right now. 

You and Jisung discuss your classes together this semester, mainly the odds that you two would wind up in the same Lit class considering Jisung’s interpretations of classic novels and poetry were nowhere near yours in terms of anything, oblivious to the unamused and possibly regretful frown on Hyunjin’s lips. Sure, you were sitting next to him and Jisung was in the backseat, but the way you were practically playing twister to speak to Jisung made him wish he had just called the whole thing off. 

Luckily for him, he makes it out of his car before Jisung has the chance to unbuckle his seatbelt, jogging around the side and opening your door in a manner that makes you give him a look. “I guess chivalry isn’t completely dead,” you don’t fail to see his playful eye roll. Before you know it, he grabs your hand in his, and is tugging you inside the bar, ignoring jisungs quiet pleas to wait for him—at least, until you give him a warning glare. 

The room is bright and dark all at the same time. There’s hardly any regular lighting, most of it coming from glow sticks, cheap lasers, or strobing lights that you weren’t really sure where they came from. Yet somehow, the actual bar area itself was dim, and you found yourself drifting to it to sit at one of the cocktail tables before you knew it. 

“Oh, don’t be boring,” Hyunjin sighs when he sees how you’ve settled yourself. He had left for one minute to get you some drinks, and next thing he knows you’ve already set up camp away from the dance floor. “I brought you to dance!”

You wave him off, gesturing to Jisung to pull up another barstool. “I’ll join you later… maybe. I need a minute to adjust first.”

Hyunjin doesn’t give Jisung a moment to talk, shaking his head at you before dancing his way into the crowd. As it turns out, the edm vibe wasn’t meant to last the entire night, and after a few more tracks the dj introduced a band you’ve never heard of and the bright LEDs dimmed to match the warm lighting of the bar. Hyunjin seemed ready, already having worked up a sweat from all the jumping and head banging he had done the last ten minutes. 

Without the strobes flashing your vision silly, you could finally take in the bar for what it’s worth. With the incandescent lighting and soft rock cover band in the background, you could see much more why he was attracted to this place—and why he thought you would like it as well. 

The accent wall opposite to the bar was covered top to bottom in records and CDs, from classic rock, to indie, to even jazz and classical music. Not to mention the art. The walls themselves were decorated, one large wall being covered in a gorgeous mural combing early pop art, to renaissance styles, and even anime and ancient cave or Mesopotamian art, the whole thing was incredible. Then the accent wall in the hall leading to the bathroom—though you could only see a few feet of it, it seemed to be covered in graffiti by artists and others who just wanted to leave a mark that they were there, 

“This place is really cool, huh?” Jisung asks as if reading your mind, his own eyes glued to the guitars hung up behind a glass pane on one wall. 

You nod, barely managing to bring your gaze back to face him. How on Earth did Hyunjin find this place? “It’s insane, how much art is in one little bar. I mean,” you pause to emphasize your words, “even this table is painted to look like Blowin’ in the Wind, that’s incredible.”

Jisung eyes widen at that, the music major in him almost spitting out his drink at your observation. What could you expect from someone who has probably taken more music appreciation classes than you could possibly imagine? 

The last song fades out as the band announces a quick intermission to fix a technical difficulty, the small crowd letting out a collective sound of disappointment before fizzling to the bar area as they wait for them to regroup. Hyunjin included as he reappears in front of your table, a sweaty grin on his face that looked even more beautiful in the warm glow of the halogen bulbs. Why did he have to be so fucking handsome?

“You guys enjoying it here? We can leave if you want,” he offers, staring at your barely touched drinks and how it seems you haven’t moved a muscle the entire time he’d been out on the dance floor. 

“What? This place is great!” Jisung protests, though he knows Hyunjin is mainly asking you. Either way, you share his sentiments. 

“I’m just not in the dancing mood, but this place is gorgeous. How did you find it?” You tell him, eyes gleaming in wonder as you try to focus on anything but his muscles shimmering under the golden lighting. Look at the paintings, look at the paintings…

It wasn’t that hard to do since there was so much beauty in the bar, but still.

Hyunjin cracks a smile. “Actually, Yeonjun and I work here during the week. I just haven’t been rescheduled yet since we were on break and some other students needed the shifts, but I’ll be back next week.” 

Your eyes snap back to his. “You… work here…?” You say slowly, as if you e never heard anything more unbelievable in your life. “You’re lying.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Why would I lie about where I work? Just because you think I’m some poser popular guy doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to actually have taste, y’know. It’s actually part of the reason I brought you—well you guys here. I get an employee discount on all the drinks.”

“Ah, and here I thought you just wanted to share something nice with us,” you taunt, leaning back towards Jisung. 

“Kind of hard to share it when you won’t leave the bar,” he says a bit low, like he doesn’t care too much if you do or don’t hear him. “I’m gonna get back out there if you feel like joining me any time soon.” 

“Go have your fun, we’re good here for now,” you flick your wrist at him dismissively, urging him back to the dancefloor. Jisung gives him a small wave and you see Hyunjin wave back. Improvement? 

Jisung waits for Hyunjin to be out of earshot, biting his lip nervously as he builds up the courage to ask his question. “So like… I don’t know if this is too much to ask or something—you can tell me if it is—but is there something going on with you two…?”

You almost jump in surprise from the question. What? “How did you get that idea?” Was it obvious you were checking him out? 

He shrugs, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “I mean, I just wasn’t sure. The way he looks at you… and how you put up with his attitude… I was thinking maybe it was something more than friends or…” He trails off at the sight of you downing your drink. “Woah I didn’t mean to stress you out or anything!”

You gulp down the last bit, holding your hand out in front of him. How could he think that? Taking a deep breath, you look at him. “We’re barely friends again Jisung. It’s nothing like what you were thinking.”

Jisung almost looks like he doesn’t completely believe your words, but seems to resign on any arguments he may have had. “Then, in that case…”

Your heart stills at his words.

“... would you maybe, go out with me?”

★𓂃please consider reblogging and/or commenting, your support means a lot to me <3

The door still doesn’t budge.

Not after Hyunjin tries again — shoulder first this time, bracing himself against the warped wood with a quiet grunt of effort. Not after you wedge the crowbar into the seam and strain until your arms shake.

Nothing.

You step back, chest tight, staring at the door like it might change its mind if you look at it long enough.

Hyunjin exhales and drags a hand through his hair. “Okay. So. That’s… not ideal.”

You don’t answer.

He waits a beat, then tries the latch again anyway, slower this time, like patience might do what force couldn’t. When it fails again, he leans his forehead briefly against the door before pushing off and turning back toward the room.

“We’ll give it some time,” he says. “Storm’ll die down. Someone’ll notice.”

You cross your arms, nod once. Still don’t speak.

The shed settles into an uneasy quiet — rain tapping against the roof, wind dragging along the walls. The lantern sways faintly overhead, shadows stretching and shrinking with each movement.

Hyunjin busies himself. Not pacing exactly — just doing. Rearranging a box. Checking a shelf. Moving things that don’t need moving.

It grates on you more than the silence ever could.

“Can you quit that?” You mumble, a bit peeved with the constant noise. You just wanted to fall asleep and wake up when someone found you. 

“What? I’m bored,” he shrugs, organizing a pile of matchboxes like a Jenga tower.

You don’t respond other than pushing out an exasperated breath. You adjust the jacket Hyunjin had suggested you grab earlier on the floor—your temporary bed—and shut your eyes forcibly, trying to will yourself to sleep

Minutes pass.

Hyunjin shrugs out of his jacket and folds it loosely in his hands. He thinks for a second, before sliding down the wall nearest to you, his arms outstretched onto his knees that are folded to his chest. “Someone’s cold,” he says, a little playfully. Like this was some funny mild inconvenience that you would look back on and laugh at in the near and distant future.

You shoot him a look. “You’re not funny.”

“Debatable,” he replies. “I think I’m hilarious.”

“That’s the problem.” You let out, your tone inconceivably disappointed with his perception of reality. 

He laughs under his breath, unfazed. “Relax. Someone’ll notice we’re gone. Worst case, we get an exciting story out of this.”

You scoff. “You’re acting like this is a joke.”

“I’m acting like panicking won’t help,” he says, still easygoing. “Big difference.”

“You always do this,” you mutter, wrapping the jacket tighter around yourself. Of course you would get stuck with Hyunjin of all people. Hyunjin who didn’t get upset at uncontrollable matters because he’s above everything. Hyunjin who wasn’t cold and had his big, muscly arms out to piss you off. Hyunjin who—

“Do what?” He leans back against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Survive mild inconvenience?”

“No,” you roll your eyes, dissatisfied with how he plays right into your mental image of him. Completely uunbothered in such a dire situation. Despicable. “You joke. You poke. And then when I get pissed off, you act surprised.”

He raises his brows, ever so slightly entertained with your pessimistic attitude. “I haven’t poked since I told you I would drop it,” he says.

“Oh, you haven’t?” you shoot back, irritated. “’Cus I’m pretty sure you’re doing it right now.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, just a bit amused. “If this is poking,” he says, “you might be a little sensitive.”

That’s it.

“God, you’re insufferable,” you snap. He couldn’t just pretend to be conscious of his words for one night?

“Ouch,” he says, hand over his heart in a truly melodramatic fashion, “And here I was thinking we were bonding over shared trauma.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” you accuse, not bothering to hide your sneer in the slightest. Even if he wasn’t deserving of your wrath today (which he is), you needed to let it out somehow. Almost a week of being stuck dealing with his mental olympics and incoherent signals has had you bottling up a storm for days.

He shrugs, unaware of just how far your irritation goes. “I am taking it seriously. I just don’t see the point in making it miserable.”

“It’s already miserable, I’m stuck here with you,” you say. You almost want to laugh with Hyunjin at your words because of how childish they seem, but you can’t help it. Hyunjin was the last person you were trying to be stuck in a confined space with for an unpredictable amount of time at the moment.

“Oh come on, you can’t still be trying to act like you hate me. We’re completely alone, you can drop the act,” he jokes a little, but you don’t seem to be laughing. Instead, you turn to him in your jacket-cocoon, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

“Act?” you ask. Perhaps he had gained the smallest inkling of your kindness within the time you’ve been around him since the rally, but you were not feigning the aversion you felt simmering in your stomach for the guy. “Listen, Hwang, I don’t hate you… but we aren’t best friends anymore. Stop pretending like we are,” you say, not trying to hide the displeasure in your tone.

“Why?” he asks. It must be nice to be so oblivious.

You sit up straighter, your head tilted toward him in confusion. “What? What do you mean why? Why what?” you ask.

“Why aren’t we best friends anymore?” he asks like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, what could he say to explain why you would be? Had you been misreading signals all along, not realizing his blatant avoidance when he’d first returned and his constant pestering that followed soon after were actually forms of affection?

You don’t care to be so eloquent in your answer. “…Because you’re an ass and I can’t stand you most of the time?”

“Oh, how dare I do something other than bow at your feet eighty percent of the time like Jisung and Felix,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender and rolling his eyes. He lets out a sigh as if he’s the one the universe is punishing.

“See? You’re an ass,” you spit, almost pleased with how he seemed to prove you right with one short sentence. 

Hyunjin doesn’t stop there this time. Instead, he seems to almost boil over. “You know?” he begins, his tone a bit downcast compared to moments ago, “I thought we were moving past this part of our relationship. It seemed like maybe you were starting to open up and realize that people can change and still be your friend, but clearly I was wrong.”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You blink in confusion, your eyebrows scrunched in annoyance.

“You only ever see your side to things,” he scoffs. How dare he? “I realized I was an ass after the first month, and I tried to ease us back into something more playful because I missed you, but all you seem to care about is making me feel like shit for fucking up a little.”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally my fault for not forgiving your apology… oh wait, I never fucking got one,” you grimace, tone doused in venom. This guy truly cannot be real. 

“I didn’t realize I needed to send a formal letter and wait for your signature for you to get over it already,” he tosses back, as if he can’t believe the way you’re acting. 

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” you snap, head whipping to him so you can focus your glare at him better.

“Yeah,” he shoots back, as if he was holding that one in for the right moment, “and you’re a coward.”

“A coward? The fuck?” you flare up at that, teeth gritted in displeasure and shock. 

“You’re too scared to just relax and admit that I don’t suck the way you want me to,” he presses into the matter further, standing (or well, sitting) strong with his point. “I’m not some villain or monster or something. I’m sorry I’m not some pushover wannabe anymore, but I’m not all bad either. Like now, I was trying to be friendly, not step on your toes or anything. And what? You chew me out anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want a medal for being tolerable for ten fucking minutes?” you scoff, marveled at how he can be so expectant after doing so little. Does going abroad really turn people so entitled?

“See?” he throws his hand up, as if to enhance his words. “I can’t do the right thing in your eyes. I’m quiet? You’re mad. I’m playful? You’re mad. Oh, and God forbid I speak my mind, that one always seems to get you going.”

“Because you act like this!” you fume, shoulders gesturing towards him in place of your hands that are tucked into your sides for warmth. “God don’t you see it? You’re so fucking arrogant and out of touch it’s insane to think that I used to be so close to someone like you. How were we ever friends?”

“You know, you like to say I’m a jerk, but you’ve hurt my feelings a lot too. I’m tired of pretending you haven’t. I might not be perfect, but neither are you. I’m not dealing with this anymore just ‘cus I…” he takes a breath, shaking his head. “I’m not dealing with this.”

With an anger-sarcasm cross, you laugh dryly. “Oh, so now we can finally shut up? Thank goodness.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, he just shoots you a look that feels like looking into a mirror. It’s filled with hurt, disappointment, and aversion—the same way you’d been looking at him since he had returned… and suddenly you understood why, even if only a little bit. It made you want to say something else, but the bigger part of yourself didn’t want to relent. So you don’t, opting to pull your eyes away from him and sinking back into your jacket-blanket. 

His words replay in your head. 

‘you’ve hurt my feelings a lot too’

You didn’t know if this was a new angle to attempt to piss you off further or what, but you just can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it's because it was completely absurd for him to say…

Or maybe it was because he sounded like he meant it.

——

Despite all your efforts, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off Hyunjin. Maybe it's because you’re so pissed with him that you want to burn holes into the sides of his head with your eyes, but more likely it's because his words had caught you off guard. You knew you had been standoffish after he got back, more irritable and always trying to keep him at a distance but…

Had you really hurt his feelings?

It just didn’t seem fathomable—the guy who had left as a teddy bear returning as a buzzed piercing mannequin who couldn’t seem to care less about yours—or anyone who matter’s—opinion, was hurt by your attitude towards him? 

But he had given somewhat of a good point. 

Hyunjin hadn’t remained the same since he returned. Sure—he pushed your buttons, couldn’t help but act macho a few times a day, and kept experimenting with his style (among other things)—but he had also started to be a bit more open and kind at times. You can’t act like the moments where your old best friend peaked through didn’t happen. 

But there were also those moments that reminded you all too well that he was in fact not the same guy he used to be. Like all the times he’d mocked Jisung—your old friend would have never done that. 

You can’t help but think back to some other things he’d said either…

What did he mean when he’d said that the two of you had never just been friends? Well—you knew what he meant—but why did he have to bring it up? It seemed like there was something more he wanted to say with that statement regarding your current relationship. 

You think back to how he’d said how ‘nobody’s that nice’ when referring to Jisung, but himself too. Was he trying to imply that Jisung liked you? Indirectly confess that he had once too? It was like everything he said only confused you more. 

His actions didn’t work much differently, either.

Like how he looked at you when he helped catch you on the hike up the mountain. For the quickest second, it was like you two were freshman again at the homecoming festival, fireworks in the sky and in your eyes as your gazes drifted to each other’s. 

You’re still deep in thought when you hear the wind thump against the walls of the shed. It breaks you out of your thoughts just enough for you to notice Hyunjin’s head falling off the shelf he was carefully balancing it on in his sleep. He had fallen asleep shortly after he had decided not to talk to you anymore, or at least it seemed like it. Perhaps he was just laying against the wall with his eyes closed—there’s no way anyone manages to keep such a perfect expression in their sleep. 

His head slides off again, and he huffs, before turning a bit more to one side of his body and trying to balance himself that way instead. When you notice him shuffling in discomfort, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Was he really not going to just ask for something to rest his head on out of pettiness?

You just can’t understand the guy.

When you watch him attempt to tuck his hands between the hard, splintered wood and his head, you finally give in. “Hey.”

You see him stiffen slightly, but he doesn’t move to acknowledge you or say anything. Oh so we’re ignoring each other now? Real nice Hwang. 

Sighing, you get up, jacket wrapped tightly around your figure as you waddle over to him. “Hey, Hwang.” When he doesn’t answer again, you lean down and turn him to face you by his shoulder. With that, his eyes open smoothly, and you know for sure he was awake the first time you’d called him. What an ass…

Silently, he gives you a look that reads ‘what do you want’ and you suddenly feel a bit less inclined to help him. The only thing that keeps you committed to being generously kind to the guy is the fact that you already got up and walked over to him so you might as well finish what you started. “Do you want something for your head?”

He stares at you for a few moments longer, and you’re about to give up when he finally mutters out a reluctant, “Yeah.”

Yeah I know you do. 

Trying not to seem smug, you just nod, and reach for the top shelf where you’d seen the packaged fire blankets that looked like they’d made decent pillows for the time being. You drop it into his lap. “Don’t open that. The blankets have fiberglass.”

He doesn’t say anything, just tucks the blanket behind his head and crosses his arms around himself. You take a breath. Somehow this was almost as bad as him messing with you. No, it was as bad. It was as bad because it… it makes you feel bad. You don’t like the way his silence and his last words might have some weight to them—at least it feels like it might. You still don’t want to give in to his antics, but maybe Hyunjin isn’t all wrong.

You were not enjoying being the bigger person.

Sliding down next to him, you don’t ignore his eye that slips open to glance at you in confusion. You just give him a little shrug. “It’s cold, we’ll be warmer next to each other.” You can’t deny the disappointment in your chest when he just closes his eye once more. “So now I’m getting the silent treatment?”

You hear Hyunjin sigh deeply, but he doesn’t give you any more response other than that. He couldn’t just throw you a bone once and just let up? It really dampens your mood, and you feel just about all the determination leave your body as you lean away from Hyunjin. “Fine, whatever. If this is what you wanna do then fine.”

You aren’t really trying to bait him, but it seems you’ve succeeded in doing so, since Hyunjin can’t help but speak up finally. “First you want me to shut up, now you want me to talk. I just can’t get anything right with you, can I?”

“You can get something right and just be honest with me. Stop acting like you’re someone you’re not—like a jerk and a—”

You don’t get to finish the sentence. Hyunjin doesn’t let you since he’s heard you say it too many times within the last semester. And he’s absolutely sick of it. “And there you go again. Why can’t you accept that I am being honest? This is me—I am who I am, and you can’t keep holding me to an image that has been drawn on and graffitied and collaged over and over and over. You know, the old you would have heard me out at least once, given my new attitude a real chance, and maybe tried to understand more than just your own perspective—”

This time you interject, sick of his rant of excuses and blame. “Okay then! Make me understand! Make me understand how this ‘new you’ came to be!” 

Hyunjin stutters at that. His face darkens—not in a sinister way, but a pained one. A small part of you says to take back your statement, but the larger one wants to pry a little more. Hyunjin hadn’t talked much about his trip since he got back. Just that it was eye opening and he’d recommend it to anyone. Clearly he had learned to make friends, since he had a new group to hang out with when he returned, but had it all really been so wonderful? Why did all his stories start a few months into the year, but never when he got there?

“I don’t think you’ll understand,” he says lower, like he feels stupid saying it, and suddenly he looks a lot smaller. A lot more frail like the boy you’d once known to lean his head on your shoulder and ramble about all his woes, then switch places and listen wistfully as you did the same. 

Why oh why did he have to once be someone you cared for so deeply? 

“Try me. Since we’re being so open, you might as well let me know why I’ve been dealing with my friend from hell for the last few months.” You push forward, and though your words kind of bite, the tone you use is more akin to one of genuine concern. He seems to notice, since he scoots to sit up a little higher, his knees curling up a bit but not quite to his chest.

Hyunjin gulps, licking his lips nervously like he’s not sure if he wants to go through with this. His eyes dart to you twice, and his voice crawls out of his throat like it doesn’t really want to be heard. “When I got there… it wasn’t… It wasn't great. I thought, since I’d be at school like everyone else there it would be easy and nobody would care about who I was or what I was doing like it had always been but…”

Hyunjin recalled his first week abroad. Walking through the halls, scouting out his classrooms for when the semester would begin, not a care in the world. He’d been so wrong. “I got there and it was like I was a field rat, surrounded by owls at night. People were hunting me…” he bit his lip, shrinking into himself a bit more. “They waited until I was alone, and then they’d show me how alone I really was. I didn’t have anybody there who knew me, or cared to know me, to help me out. All I had was myself, a stupid cardigan, and a black eye.”

Your heart sinks at his words. If they were so bad to him, why did he stay?

“But I couldn’t come back, not broken like that. I had chosen to leave, even though everyone told me not to and they had all warned me about everything. I didn’t want to feel like more of a doormat than I already did…” he takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want anyone to see me like that… I didn’t want you to see me like that… so I fixed myself. I started working out, fighting back, standing up for myself. And for the first time in my life I felt strong, I felt brave, and I felt free.”

Out of everything he could have said, you never thought that this is what had taken your childhood friend and first love away from you and brought him back a rebellious and semi-performative nonconformist. You couldn’t imagine Hyunjin getting his ass whooped—but then again, there had always been someone there for him. Whether it was Felix or Chan or Changbin, even yourself, someone always had his back. Out overseas, he had to hold his own, and you couldn’t imagine how hard that could’ve been for him. 

But what you understood less was how he’d… grown from that. What you were sure was some silly reinvention was turning to actually be a form of protecting himself. More than that, he seemed to like the way he’d changed. 

“I know when I got back I was, well  I was rough to deal with. I got so used to keeping people off my back I didn’t realize I could stop until it was too late and I had to start trying to get you to hop on the Hyunjin train.”

“Yeah well, I kind of left the station when every time I tried to get your attention it felt like a pity party or humiliation ritual.” You murmured, still trying to process everything he’d just dropped on you. 

“I’m really sorry about that. I just—I was scared I’d crumble, and I didn’t realize it was safe for me to do that until a little while ago. But,” he takes a moment, “that doesn’t mean all of me is an act. I’m not a jerk, like I keep trying to tell you. But I’m not that bend-over-backwards boy I was either. I like that I’m not scared to express myself or that I don’t care if people like me.”

You let out a quick chuckle, as if to say I’ll say. 

“But I do care that you like me.” 

You stiffen up slightly, as if he was a large animal that would only see you if you moved. You were glad to know what the reasoning was for his one-eighty, but you weren’t ready to just move on from your… conflicted feelings for him. Hyunjin made—makes—you uneasy. He’s predictable and unpredictable at the same time, and you don’t know how to deal with it in a way that won’t drive you crazy in all the wrong ways. 

“Hyunjin…”

“Been a minute since you’ve said my name, it was starting to actually hurt my feelings a bit, y’know?” He murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile in his voice, and at least you accomplished your original goal of this conversation.

“Even if that’s all true—”

“It is.” he reassures.

“Okay, but even then, I can’t just void everything you’ve done since you got back. It’s not just about what you did or acted like—I feel like I haven’t understood half of what you said the past five months.” You say it all too quickly, barely managing not to jumble all your words together with the sheer speed you get it out. 

Hyunjin turns to you, his expression tender and like he wants to give you all the answers in the world. What you don’t know is that he does. “What do you want to understand? Ask me and I’ll tell you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you choke out, caught a bit off guard by his directness. He has to know what you mean, and know that they aren’t things you can just say. 

He nods, eyes trained on you. “I am. Ask away, I’ll answer.”

You swallow thickly, taking a deep breath. What’s the harm? “Well, for starters, you keep saying I’ve changed. I really don’t see where you’re coming from with that,” you bite your tongue on the harshness that was threatening to sneak out of your lips. He said he would be honest, this might as well be what you find out first, right?

Hyunjin chuckles lightly. “Here I thought you would start off… Nevermind. When I say you’ve changed,” he pauses, like he’s looking for the right words to say what he means, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re not as easy going as you were, and you take more caution with people—or maybe that’s just me—and sometimes you sound kind of harsh, but none of that is really a bad thing. You’re just different, but everyone is. People aren’t stationary, they change and I think that’s a really great thing about us. The only issue there really is…”

Hyunjin flicks his eyes down, like he’s a little scared of your reaction, before he pushes through anyway. “You don’t seem to want to acknowledge it, and that’s a scary thing. If you can’t accept that we’re all a little different, that we’ve all grown and will continue to, then we’ll never be able to measure up to the people we are in your head.”

You understand a bit why he wasn’t sure about saying that last bit, but you also kind of see where he was coming from. You can’t say you’ve been the most fond of Hyunjin’s new attitude but it would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy some of his more recent behaviors. You didn’t hate the banter the way you wanted to. Or the hair dye and piercings. Or the unapologetic attitude he sported now. You were just having a hard time accepting that it was Hyunjin. Had he been a new addition to your life—like Yeji or Yeonjun—you might have been able to adjust better and see him for more of who he was than the persona he had morphed into in your mind. 

“Did that clear things up for you?” He checks, his head tilted towards you, his eyes searching yours like he truly wants to know. 

You give a hesitant nod, folding your lips inward as you consider your next question. “Why do you dislike Jisung so much?”

It was really weighing heavy on your mind considering that the Hyunjin you had known would have adored Jisung. The two of them were similar in many ways: talented, theatrical, and playful. Yet for some reason, he could not stand the sight of the guy. 

Hyunjin sighs, like he’s disappointed, but at himself if anything. His eyes can’t manage to meet yours, staying drawn to his knees in front of him. “He’s too soft, too awkward… he’s too open…” You see a bit of sadness well up in his eyes, his fingers picking at each other while he builds up the confidence to continue. “He’s a complete pushover and nobody’s ever going to take him seriously that way.”

“What are you talking about?” You wonder aloud in puzzlement, feeling a bit of offense on Jisung’s behalf. “I take him seriously.”

“Do you, [Y/N], do you really?” He looks at you earnestly, like he needs to know. “If Jisung were to ask you out, would you take him seriously? Would you see him as a man and say yes?”

“I—” You sputter, heat rising to your face, “I don’t know what that has to do with why you don’t like him.”

Hyunjin nods, his eyes closing as if he expected you to react that way. “You wouldn’t. Nobody will as long as he stays that way.”

“Not that I agree with you, but why does that make you hate him?” You frown, still not seeing the point.

“I just… I can’t stand seeing him walk around like that, like he can stay that way forever. His naivety just—it rubs me the wrong way.” His shoulders slouched around him like a cage. “Is that all?”

“Why can’t he just be nice?” You add, your frown deepening. “You keep talking about him like everything he is—like he’s only negative qualities. Even when he’s nice—you can’t just leave it at that. For some reason, nobody can be that nice. Why is that Hyunjin?”

“It’s not that he isn’t nice… he is. But there’s more to it [Y/N],” his mouth curls with displeasure. “The way he’s nice to you… it’s not because you’re his friend. I can see it with how he looks at you. Jisung has feelings for you.”

“He doesn’t,” you refute.

“He does.”

“What do you know?” you draw out that last bit, rolling your eyes as you ignore the way his are burning a hole into your head. 

“Are we going to stay on this or do you have anything else for me to clear up?” He sounds like all he wants to do is move on from the topic of Jisung, and you oblige.

“Before the bus got us… what did you mean,” you pause, that same flush from earlier rising to your cheeks, “y’know, when you said we’ve never really just been friends. What was that about?”

Now it's Hyunjin’s turn to blush. 

He looks away almost immediately, jaw tightening like he’s weighing whether this is worth it. For a second you think he’s going to dodge the question entirely. Then he exhales. “It means I liked you.” 

Just like that. 

You blink. “Liked me how?” 

His eyes flick back to yours, quick and unsure. “Not platonically.” The word hangs there, awkward and heavy. 

You let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “That’s—” You stop yourself. “That’s not fair.” 

“How?” he sounds almost shocked at your words. 

“You can’t just drop that like it explains everything,” you say with wide eyes that dart around the room, like you can’t quite choose where it would be best to look until you ffinaally settle on him.“We were kids. Everyone’s intense about everything. Everyone thinks any feeling is aa crush.”

“I know the difference between a crush and whatever that was,” he says, a little firmer now in his words. “I knew it then. I just didn’t say anything.” 

“And why’s that?” You egg him on for more, unable to stop yourself before it's too late. Well, might as well know now. 

“I…” he chokes on air, like he can’t get what he wants to say out of his throat. “I didn’t think you’d go out with me like that.”

You’re quiet for a beat too long.

Hyunjin notices, and whatever he was about to say stalls out.

“I mean—” he corrects himself quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't know. I just… thought maybe. Sometimes… you might’ve liked me too but I couldn’t be sure unless one of us said something.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, bringing your own knees to mirror his pose. “That’s different.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It is.”

He glances at you again, reluctant almost. “There were moments where it felt like… you cared more than you were letting on. And then there were moments where I was sure I was imagining it.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your jacket.

“So I told myself it was nothing,” he continues. “Or that it didn’t matter. Or that I was reading into things because I wanted it to be true.”

You swallow. “And now?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Now I just know it wasn’t nothing. That’s all.”

The quiet that follows isn’t sharp like before. It’s fragile. Careful.

You shift where you’re sitting, your shoulder brushing his for half a second before you pull back again. “You’re making this weird.”

He lets out a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“You could stop,” you point out. You almost pull a laugh from him with the expression you deliver the offer with.

“I could,” he agrees, “I just don’t really want to pretend anymore.”

Your chest tightens at that.

“But,” he adds quickly, like he’s backtracking before you can retreat, “I’m not asking you to explain yourself. Or tell me anything you don’t want to.”

You keep your eyes on the floor. “Good, because I wasn’t planning to.”

Hyunjin nods pliantly. 

Another pause of awkward silence follows after.

His voice comes out quieter this time. “I just wanted you to know… whatever you think you hid back then? It mattered to me. Even if I never understood it.”

You hum tentatively, still not sure about how to feel about all this. You choose to try and loosen up the tension instead. “I just have one more thing to ask.”

“The floor is yours.”

“If they save us before we freeze to death,” you chuckle out awkwardly, “could you just… Could you give Jisung a chance? I think you two could be good friends if you allowed it.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, a small smile dancing at his lips. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give Jisung a chance… if you agree to give me one.”

You stare at him like he’s grown three heads, and he quickly clarifies. 

“I want a real chance for you to get to know me now. I’m sorry I’m not the same guy that you knew before, but I promise,” he pauses, mustering the best soft smirk he can, “I’m not so bad now either.”

You stare at him for a long second. 

Then you sigh, rubbing your face with both hands like you’re tired of arguing with the universe. “…Fine,” you say. “I’ll give you a chance.” 

Hyunjin stills. Not dramatically. Not obviously. Just enough that you notice. “Direct agreement,” he says carefully. “No loopholes?” 

“Nope,” you confirm. “We’ll stop this weird tension between us.” 

A beat. 

Then his shoulders drop, and his lips spread into a grin. “Thank you.” 

The moment hangs there—fragile, unfinished—before the shed shudders violently. You jolt as a gust of wind slams into the wall, rain suddenly hammering the roof hard enough that it drowns out everything else. The lantern you had lit while Hyunjin was feigning a nap swings wide, throwing shadows that stretch and snap across the walls. 

“That’s—” you start. 

“Worse,” Hyunjin finishes. 

Thunder cracks overhead, close enough that you feel it in your chest. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself, teeth clicking before you can stop them. 

Hyunjin notices immediately. “Hey,” he says attentively, already shifting. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you insist without missing a beat. 

“You don’t really look like it,” he counters. 

Another boom of thunder. This one rattles the shelves… And your resolve.

You hesitate—pride warring with common sense—before scooting closer. Not all the way. Just enough that your shoulders touch. “Don’t fuck up our truce by saying anything snarky. I’m just cold.”

Hyunjin adjusts without comment, fighting a smile as he angles his body so his back blocks some of the draft. He shrugs his jacket off of one arm and overlaps it with your own, trying to create a pocket of heat. 

The wind howls again, loud and angry, and instinct takes over. Your hand grips the front of your jacket. The shed creaks ominously. 

“This thing isn’t going to collapse, right?” he panics a bit aloud, face cringing with a twinge of worry,

You don’t really offer much reassurance, still feeling a bit half-empty on the whole situation. “Probably not.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, maybe don’t focus on that word.” You give him a sheepish look as you remember who you’re dealing with. Drama queen… well, sometimes. 

Another crack of thunder, directly overhead this time. You flinch hard, forehead knocking lightly into his chin. His hand comes up without hesitation, palm settling against your back. 

“You’re okay,” he says quietly. Oh so now he’s calm again. What an enigma.

Minutes pass like that—storm raging, lantern swaying, your breathing slowly syncing with his. Then— 

Muffled voices?

“…Hello?” Someone calls. 

Hyunjin straightens immediately. 

“Hey! We’re in here!” You yell back, pulling out of his grip a bit.

The door rattles as something heavy strikes it. Wood splinters. The door bursts inward, rain and cold air rushing in. 

“Jesus, are you two okay?” Chan lets out a breath of relief at the sight of your faces.

Flashlights sweep the shed. You’re half-curled into Hyunjin’s side, his arm still around you. His jacket is wrapped around both of you as best as it could manage. It’s not exactly compromising, but it’s incredulously close for the two of you. 

Hyunjin doesn’t let go right away. 

You, however, only hesitate for a second.

Jisung stands just behind Chan, soaked through. His light lands on the two of you. His expression is one you haven’t quite seen before. Something in his eyes seems a bit familiar, yet all too foreign at the same time. 

“Hey,” Jisung begins with that gentle tone that makes Hyunjin want to roll his eyes (he refrains, barely), “You okay?” 

You nod, unable to muster up just how happy you are to see him and Chan. “Yeah. We’re fine.” 

Hyunjin clears his throat, finally getting to his feet himself, not quite meeting anyone but Chan’s eyes. He shoots him a look that says he isn’t in the mood to talk about it just yet, Chan understands immediately.

“Good,” Jisung hums contently, offering you a small smile. “I was worried.” 

As you’re ushered out into the rain, Hyunjin falls into step beside you, close but not touching. Jisung’s arm steadies you on the trek to the cabin, 

yet something about it just doesn’t feel as secure as Hyunjin’s palm had.

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You mutter obscenities to yourself as you trudge down the path, your anger hot enough for you to ignore the stinging winter air splashing against your skin. Hyunjin’s not far behind, hands in his pockets as he strides as if he was raised on the damn mountain. 

“You can slow down, the shed isn’t going anywhere,” Hyunjin’s sickeningly laid back voice rings through your ears, interrupting the generational curses you’ve been placing on Felix since you left the cabins. 

You pause, throwing him an irritated look, before returning to your previous pace down the mountain.

Yet, as always, Hyunjin can’t leave you be. 

“So, you and J-J-Jisung have fun yesterday?” 

You roll your eyes. Don’t engage. Don’t engage. 

You should know by now, that ignoring never works with Hyunjin. “What? Too shy to kiss and tell?”

“Why are you the way that you are?” You finally let out, malice dripping from your voice. 

Hyunjin seems to perk up at your reaction, probably pleased that you responded at all. “Incredible in every way? I’m just that guy, honestly.”

You scoff at him, trying to return your focus to finding this last stupid shed. The mountain had one of the most steady weather patterns ever. The sheds had basically never been used. You don’t see any reason that this is so important, honestly. 

Hyunjin refuses to let go of the topic, though. “So something did happen between you two yesterday, huh? I told you, nobody’s as nice as he is unless—”

“Unless what, Hyunjin? Because nothing happened yesterday, yet you’re still talking shit.” You hiss at him, stopping in your tracks to give him a piece of your mind. “Which is pretty rich coming from you, since you used to be ‘that nice’ before you started this whole ‘I don’t care’ charade.”

You hate the way he looks a little amused by your slight outburst. However, what you don’t expect are his next words. 

Taking another step towards you, he leans down. “Yeah, and like I said. Nobody’s that nice just for the fuck of it…” He does something you don’t expect next, hesitating to stride past you, and instead letting out a sigh of resignation. “But okay, I’ll drop it.”

You stand stunned as he moves past you, his shoulders a bit less straight and his head a little lower than a few moments ago. 

—

“Where the hell is it?” you sneer, shivering as the cold wind bites at your skin.

Hyunjin pauses beside you, scanning the overgrown trees. “Did they not trim anything this year? Everything’s a mess. I can barely tell where we’re going.”

You consider snapping back—something sharp about his piercings or his attitude—but swallow it. You don’t see the shed either. “The other cabins were kind of like this too. Guess whoever was here last didn’t bother with chores.”

He hums in acknowledgment and pushes forward through the foliage.

It takes another ten minutes of ducking branches and swatting at gnats before the shed finally comes into view. It looks worse than you remember—grass climbing up the sides, paint peeling, the whole thing slumped like it’s tired of existing.

You unlock the padlock and tug the handle.

Nothing.

You try again, harder. The rusted metal burns against your palms and you hiss, shaking your hands out. Behind you, Hyunjin lets out a soft laugh.

“Scoot it,” he says, nudging past you. One pull, then another—then the door swings open abruptly. He stumbles back a step, catching himself just in time.

You bite back a smile. He shoots you a look, half-annoyed, half-amused.

Inside, the shed smells like dust and damp wood. Cobwebs stretch across the ceiling beams.

“Pull out the list,” you say, already stepping inside.

He grimaces but follows, unfolding the paper. “What is this handwriting supposed to be…?”

“There’s only twenty food packets,” you mutter, scanning the shelves. “Mark it for restocking.”

The two of you fall into a rhythm. Hyunjin reads items off the list, crossing things out as you locate them. The only sounds are paper rustling, shelves creaking, and the wind pushing faintly at the walls.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

Hyunjin steps closer at some point—close enough that you feel the shift in air behind you. “There should be a box with fifteen face masks.”

You flinch, hand flying to your chest. “Don’t do that.”

“Didn’t mean to,” he says, though there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he looks away.

You don’t comment. You just keep searching.

Minutes pass. The light through the doorway dulls, slowly enough that you almost miss it.

“Hey,” Hyunjin says, voice lower now. “Did it just get darker?”

You straighten, glancing toward the door. The thin strip of daylight has faded, clouds smothering the sky. “Probably just clouds.”

But the air feels heavier. Colder.

A sudden gust rattles the shed, knocking something loose from the roof. You both jump.

“Ridiculously calm mountain,” Hyunjin mutters.

“It’s just wind,” you insist, though your stomach tightens.

Another gust hits harder. The door slams against the wall once—twice.

Hyunjin doesn’t joke this time. He reaches for a jacket on the shelf. “We should go. Now.”

“We’re almost done,” you argue, pointing to the list. “Three things.”

Before he can respond, the wind roars again.

The door slams shut.

For a second, neither of you move.

Then you both rush forward.

You tug at the handle—nothing. Hyunjin backs up and slams his shoulder into it, grunting as he bounces back.

The shed groans around you as the storm howls outside.

You try everything—pulling, ramming, prying—but the door doesn’t give.

Eventually, you both stop, breathless.

The silence that follows is different now. Thick. Pressurized.

Hyunjin leans against the wall, chest rising and falling. You stay near the door, fingers still wrapped around the handle as if sheer will might make it move.

After a long moment, he speaks—not teasing, not smug. Just… careful.

“We’re stuck.”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

Another gust slams into the shed, making the walls creak. Instinctively, you step back—and end up closer to him than you mean to. Close enough that you’re painfully aware of his presence. His warmth. The way his attention flickers toward you, then away again.

Neither of you says anything.

The silence stretches. Like something’s building beneath the surface. Something neither of you are ready to touch yet.

And unfortunately, judging by the storm outside…

You’re going to have plenty of time.

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Despite your attempts to not engage with the mullet-haired bane of your existence, he just can’t seem to leave you alone.

He somehow always managed to be lingering around, whether you were doing a chore, or eating, or a group activity. Hyunjin was always there to suck away your joy, poking and prodding at your resolve until you snap or surrender in the name of pacifism. 

You don’t know why you thought group activities would be any different. However, You refuse to allow Hyunjin to control your life, which is how you find yourself in the group for the three-legged race that Yeji had proposed. 

“I call Yeonjun!” Changbin grins. 

Everybody else starts to partner up. A few people try Hyunjin at once, fighting to ask him before anyone else. “Do you want to team up?” Their voices overlapping to be hardly intelligible. 

Much to their displeasure, he gives you a smirk that makes your skin flush in irritation—or something else—as he teases. “Sorry, I’ve already got a partner. Right, [Y/N]?”

You scoff, hooking arms with Jisung. “Fat chance, Hwang.” Sick of his insistence. 

He raises his eyebrow almost teasingly as his gaze meets where you and Jisung meet. You tell yourself the goosebumps on your arms are just from the cold, and not from the way they trail back up to your face, something indecipherable within them. “And here I thought you were going to give the poor guy a break from you.”

“You’re so thoughtful, but I’ve already trapped Jisung.” You push back, your tone sickenly sweet as you tighten your arm that’s looped with Jisung’s. The boy to your side stifles a laugh, giving you both an uneasy look, despite being a bit amused. 

Hyunjin seems to give up a bit at that, finding Yeji to force her to be his partner. She declines, hugging another girl tightly. “But I’m your cousin.”

“Don’t care, find someone else!” She laughs, the girl beside her giggling a bit too as Yeji shoos him away.

“Ooh, turned down twice,” maybe you couldn’t help yourself sometimes either. “That’s gotta sting.”

“Oh please, you didn’t even give Jisang a choice.”

“Shut up, Hwang, you know his name is Jisung.” You glare at him, defending your new friend’s honor.  

He shrugs, waving you off nonchalantly as he walks of to find another partner. You have to fight the urge not to grin at finally having the last word in one of your wit battles. 

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, giving you his nervous smile as he rubs his neck with his free hand. “Thanks for that… I um, wasn’t sure if I’d be able to correct him again.”

Your heart warms at his awkward charm, your head tilting as you give him a gentle nudge back. “Don’t worry about him,” you playfully side-eye in Hyunjin’s direction, before bringing your gaze back to Jisung, “now, let’s kick his ass in this race, yeah?”

Loosening up a bit at your words, his grin stretches. 

——

“Felix you cheating bastard!” You growl at your friend, dragging Jisung by the leg—still tied to him—as you trudge toward the blond.

Felix doesn’t hesitate to push Chan to start moving, shoving the man in the opposite direction of you as he trips over their tied legs in hopes of escaping your wrath. Chan laughs, “Oh come on, its not that serious [Y/N].”

“I don’t want to hear anything from you!” Placing a hand to cover Chan’s face from your line of vision, you continue your struggle towards Felix.

“I didn’t even cheat!”

“Yes you did!” You and a few others yell at him, Yeonjun with his arms crossed in front of him, and Changbin shaking his head disappointedly at the freckled boy. Yeji and her partner—Ryunjin, you think her name is—sport similar reactions. Even Hyunjin Hyunjin seems surprised, though rather amused in comparison to the rest of you.

Finally falling over himself and Chan, Felix tries so scurry away from you while crawling, his face paling when he feels you grab the back of his sweater and tug it towards you. 

Soon enough, you’re pulling him by his belt loops in his pants, Chan and Jisung trying to pull you off your friend as soon as they untie all of your legs from each other. When they finally get you to release, you push him forward instead, his hands planting into the muddy ground in front of him as he catches himself. 

“You brute,” he whines, staring at his muddied palms. 

You stick your tongue out at him, glaring. Jisung stares at you, still shocked at your raw strength which you had just unleashed on Felix, and unintentionally himself. Howeve, his wide eyes are paired with a closed mouth smile and an almost impressed smile tugging at his lips. 

It doesn’t seem to leave his features as you begin making your way to the cabin to prepare for supper, giving him a questioning look after a few minutes of silent glances. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

It’s almost as if he hadn’t noticed until that moment that he had been gawking at you, his face flushing brightly as soon as you point it out. “Huh? L-like what?”

You shake your head at him. “Mmm, so that’s what we’re doing. In that case, nothing.” 

Jisung’s eyes scrunch closed at that, embarrassed by his reaction. “Sorry… I just, you’re, uh, like, really brave and free… I uh, wish I could be like that.”

You cock a brow at that. “Why can’t you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know… I guess, um, I just don’t have it in me. You know? Like, I can’t just react and then feel like I did the right thing. I have to uh, I have to think about it first, or I’ll regret it later when I-I can’t stop thinking about it or like, if I think about it first I might think too long and then it’ll be weird by the time I figure it out… Or—”

You can’t hold back your giggling at his rambling, making him slow to a stop bashfully. Putting a hand over your mouth to stifle the laughter, you hold a finger up with your unoccupied hand to singal for him to give you a moment. “I’m sorry it’s just, it’s so adorable how you just get in your head so much.”

He seems to get redder at that somehow, unable to meet your eyes, despite the way the corners of his mouth twitch up. “You uh, you think so…?”

You nod. “Yeah, I mean, I say a lot in my head but,” you pause for a moment, tilting your head at him a bit, “the way you do it is different than that. It’s sweet, like you really can’t help it but you also want to make sure you’re doing things right.”

He gives a slow bob of his head, taking in your words. “I guess that uh, makes sense… At least it doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not a bad thing at all!” You honestly wish someone else would go back to considering his actions more before actually committing to them…

Soon enough, you reach the cabin, the others not too far behind. As you make your way to the kitchen, much less irritated to help out now rather than at the crack of dawn, you can’t ignore the way your stomach flips whenever you catch Jisung watching you like you were the last star in the sky.

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“[Y/N]!” You kick your sheets off like they’re on fire, sitting up in your bed at the sound of your name being screeched. 

You place a startled hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing as you search for the source of your fear. And sure enough, there he is. Snatching your pillow from behind you, you smack your roommate, face red in anger. “Felix what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Felix winces at the impact of your pillow, holding his nose with one hand and blocking your blows with the other. “Fuck, ow! I called you like eight times before you finally woke up!” He finally ceases your abuse, his hand catching your pillow mid-swing.

You fight to tug it out of his grip “And I say again, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you waking me up at the ass crack of dawn?”

Pulling your pillow out of your grasp, he huffs, backing away cautiously. “Yeah so, the thing is, I sort of signed us up as part of the breakfast crew? So we have to go make breakfast? In five minutes ago?”

You all but lunge at him, tackling him onto his bed and holding a pillow over his face in your fit of rage.

Felix gives you fearful side eyes from where he stands cracking eggs into a bowl. He never turns his back to you as he moves, keeping you in his sights even as he goes into the fridge to grab butter. You don’t blame him, not with how you want to leap at him again, still fuming about having to be up before just about everyone else. What the fuck was Felix thinking?

Yeji bounces happily on your other side, seemingly made to be awake before every other living creature as she navigates through the kitchen swiftly. Somehow, she’s already managed to make enough pancakes and waffles to feed you three within the past ten minutes. How on Earth was she already so awake and lively?

You grumble to yourself in a lack-of-sleep-induced fury, shredding up your potatoes less than gracefully. You’re just lucky there are blade-proof gloves at your disposal, with how many times you have allowed your knuckles to graze the metal. The slices sizzle when they hit the oiled pan in front of you, and you try to focus on the smell of hashbrowns wafting in the air, rather than murdering your freckled friend. 

A shuffling pair of feet catches your attention a few minutes later, a familiar voice breaking through the silent morning air with a shiver. “[Y/N]? What are you doing out here already?”

“Good morning to you too, Jisung,” Felix says with a dramatic inflection that would have made you laugh if you weren’t still trying not to attack the guy. 

“Sorry man, uh, morning everyone,” Jisung breathes out, and you take note how he doesn’t seem tired at all. In fact, he seems like he’s been up for a while, since his hair is tamed and he seems to be wearing a fresh pair of sweats clean t-shirt. “Why are you guys in the kitchen already?”

“This one,” you growl, jabbing your thumb in Felix’s direction, “decided to sign us up for the breakfast crew.”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be so grumpy about it!”

“Felix shut up right now before I jump on you again,” you hiss out, holding the large wooden spoon in your hand up at him as a warning. Reluctantly, he backs off, glaring at you in a way that elicits a laugh out of Jisung. 

“Wow, so you’re not a morning person, huh?” Jisung smiles, approaching the counter carefully, his eyes trained on your weapon of choice. 

“No, I am not,” you huff, lowering the spoon so that you can continue to stir the frying potatoes around in the skillet. “I take it you are, though? I mean, you look like you’re ready to go live life already.”

“Ha, yeah, I guess. I woke up about an hour ago, to be honest. Normally I uh, just hang out in my dorm until its time to do something, but I heard some commotion down here and uh, I wanted to see what was going on.” He scratches his neck, a little flustered by being called out. 

You nod at him, a little disgusted that anyone would willingly wake up before eight in the morning. Masochists, you think.

Looking around awkwardly, Jisung leans a bit closer to you, a sheepish look on his face. “Um, do you want some help? I could uh, take over for a bit so you can rest your eyes a little longer.”

You visibly perk up at that, your still drooping eyes practically pleading to him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he gives you a reassuring bob of his head, and you can’t hand him the utensil fast enough. You can almost hear Felix roll his eyes behind you as you scurry out of the kitchen, making your way to one of the indoor picnic tables to lay on one of the benches. No time is wasted before you’re laying across the seats, head resting against your hand as you get into position. 

Your peace is short lived, or at least it feels that way, since you had fallen asleep before you even realized and now it had been fifteen minutes. It’s only when you hear a certain voice that you begin to wake up. 

“Wow, sleeping in the job and making somebody else do it? That’s messed up, [Y/N].” Hyunjin whispers into your ear, a smirk already plastered on his still sleepy face as he leans down beside you. 

“God, you’re like this when you wake up too?” You mumble, sounding pained at the being woken up, and already having to deal with Hyunjin. 

“Just for you.” Leaning his head against his hand, he yawns softly. “Looks like someone’s working hard to impress you.”

You hum, questioning him to elaborate further when his pointed hand appears next to you, aimed directly at Jisung. “Some people are just nice, Hwang.”

“Not that nice.” He mumbles, clicking his tongue. “

You glare at him through squinted eyes, huffing at him as you turn away. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll go away. 

He does not go away. No, instead, Hyunjin is there when Jisung, Yeji, and Felix serve you breakfast. By the time you’ve finished your meal, you’re two seconds away from throwing your syrup coated plate at his irritatingly perfect morning face. 

And he’s unfortunately there when its time to gather wood, Chan pleading for you, Hyunjin, and Changbin to take over the chore while the others set up other necessities in the cabins. The only positive thing hHyunjin manages to contribute is wearing a wife beater to chop logs, allowing for a wonderful view of his muscles. You sigh. If only he would just keep that pretty mouth of his shut instead of making it his personal mission to test you as much as possible. 

You pick up a decent sized stack from the pile of freshly cut wood, struggling a bit to keep it steady as you try to carry it to the wheelbarrows. It’s heavier than you had anticipated, but you would rather bite off your big toes than ask Hyunjin for help. Why the hell did Changbin have to choose to used the restroom after the three of you had made it to the wood gathering site?

“You look ridiculous carrying all that wood.” Hyunjin half laughs and half scoffs at you, taking a few pieces out of your arms and placing them on top of his, effortlessly placing them into the carts as if they weighed nothing to him. 

You glare at him, turning your pile to be out of his reach as you pick up your pace. “I’m surprised you’re here, pretty boy. Didn’t think you’d want to get splinters all over your clothes.”

“So you admit I’m pretty?” 

You try not to agree out loud, but internally, you can’t help but enjoy watching his biceps flex every time he picks up the hatchet. Or think about how irritating it is that he seems to rip the logs apart with ease, his muscles beginning to bead with sweat. You have to pry your eyes away forcefully when Changbin jogs back to the site. 

Hyunjin doesn’t slow at his return, through. Instead, he seems to work a bit harder if anything, making sure to pick the largest logs possible to split. You almost swear he glances at you a few times, as if to make sure you see his incredible display of strength, but will the thoughts out of your head. You were not going to become one of those delusional people on campus who worshipped the ground Hyunjin walked on just because he was some model-faced jerk.

“Damn, Hyunjin. Did the wood personally offend you?” Changbin laughs, raising a brow at Hyunjin’s rapidly growing pile of half and quarter logs.

You roll your eyes. “Oh please, he’s just afraid you’ll cut more wood than him and everyone will know those muscles are just for show.”

Hyunjin seems to darken at that, smirking evilly. “At least I actually did my job on my own. Not make some kicked puppy do it for me.”

Changbin lets out an awkward laugh, looking as if he wished he’d never said anything in the first place. You barely manage to bite your tongue, opting for some form of peace by choosing to let him have the last word. He seems to take your silence as a signal of victory, chuckling to himself insufferably. You almost take the bait and start up again just to wipe the look of his face.

Hwang Hyunjin was going to be the death of you. 

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The bus ride to the mountain goes exactly how you feared it would. Hyunjin spends the entire two hours stretching his legs out just far enough to press against the back of your seat, each push deliberate and smug. Every time you turn around to glare, he offers the same infuriating grin and an insincere, “Oh—sorry,” like he’s doing you a favor by pretending to care.

If he’s not invading your space, he’s tapping your shoulder to ask useless questions. “Did you bring gloves?” or “Got extra snacks?” or even, “Hey, do you think my jacket’s warm enough?” Always no more than five minutes apart, and always with that glint in his eye that tells you he’s enjoying how close you are to snapping.

You hate how easily he still gets to you. 

And worse—you hate the few times you catch yourself laughing despite it. You keep telling yourself it’s not because it’s funny. It’s just… ridiculous. The whole thing. Him. You. The way he treats it all like a game you never agreed to play.

By the time the bus stops at the base of the mountain, your patience is hanging by a thread.

Hiking up the trail is no better. You’re busy trying not to slip on loose dirt or get bitten by one of the last bugs of the season, but Hyunjin looks like he’s on a runway instead of a mountainside—steady, unbothered, annoyingly perfect. His steps are long and confident, his expression almost bored.

You nearly trip when he glances back just to wink.

What is wrong with him?

Han trudges beside you, muttering about how much he hates outdoor activities. You’re grateful for the distraction—at least he’s normal. Every time you ask if he’s okay, he flashes a strained smile and insists he’s fine, which is more than you can say for your own mood.

The incline steepens, and you focus on keeping your footing, determined not to break your leg before day one even starts. You’re doing fine—until the faint pop of a container lid makes you turn. Felix has opened the brownies he baked last night, and your brain reacts before your body does.

“Hey, are those—”

Your foot slides out from under you before you finish the question. The ground gives way, and you’re instantly weightless, your boots skidding against the dirt. Panic hits hard and fast—your stomach lurches, hands clawing for anything to grab—until two pairs of hands catch you at once.

The shock hits first. Then the sound of your heartbeat.

Hyunjin’s arm wraps around your ribs, tight enough to make you freeze, his other hand hovering like he’s ready to grab you again if you slip. Jisung’s beside you, his hands gripping your shoulders with wide, terrified eyes.

It’s a mess of limbs and adrenaline. For a second, no one breathes.

“Y-you good?” Jisung asks first, his voice trembling. His hands linger even as he pulls back, still not convinced you’re steady.

You nod quickly, brushing off the dirt on your knees. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Hyunjin doesn’t move. His eyes drag over you, scanning for injuries, jaw tight. It’s disarming—until he opens his mouth.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he says, that familiar tone back in full force, casual and patronizing, as if he didn’t just grab you like his life depended on it.

You scoff, brushing past him. “Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Anytime,” he fires back, smirk in place again.

You don’t even look at him this time. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not when you make it this easy,” he says, voice light but eyes sharp.

You clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another reaction. It’s like every word out of his mouth is custom-built to irritate you, and the worst part is—he knows it.

Jisung gives a nervous laugh, trying to cut the tension. “I, uh… I think we’re good now. You sure you can keep going?”

“I’m sure,” you say, maybe too quickly.

Hyunjin hums behind you, the sound low and amused. “Try not to fall for me again, yeah?”

You spin around just long enough to glare at him. “You’re so annoying.”

He grins, walking backward up the trail like he’s never been more proud of himself. “And yet, you’re still talking to me.”

You turn away before he can see your face—because if he did, he’d know that beneath all your anger, your pulse is still racing.

And that might be the most annoying part of it all.

Oh how you wanted to send him tumbling down the path. 

—- 

You sigh as you search for Jisung in the small crowd surrounding the bonfire. There were only about twenty people on the trip, how did you manage to lose him? Your stomach twists in remorse for dragging him onto this trip, and then out to this bonfire, only to lose him within fifteen minutes. 

You only pull your gaze off of the partying figures before you when you hear a rustling beside you on your wooden seat, groaning lowly when you see the cause. 

With a smug chuckle, Hyunjin leans towards you, eyes glimmering in mischief. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What do you want, Hwang?” You draw out, allowing your chin to drop roughly into your palm as you stare out into the crowd once more, this time with the intent of avoiding looking at Hyunjin’s annoyingly perfect arms that are flushed from being exposed to the cold evening. 

“Rude much?” He coughs out, feigning shock at your reaction. “Where’s little man?”

“Little man? Seriously?” You have to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, fearing that if you did the action again within the next week, that they would really get stuck behind your head the way your mother had always warned. “Jisung’s not even that short.”

“Pfft, compared to Changbin, maybe.” He laughs at his own words, before moving to a different topic. “How’s everything been?”

You give him an offput look, eyebrow raised with caution. “Same old, school, school, work, and more school.”

“Yeah?” He shakes his head at you, entertained by your plain answer. When he refocuses on you, he tilts his head and leans in a bit closer, eyes squinted curiously. “You know, out of everyone, you’re just about the only person in our friend group who hasn’t asked me what my trip was like.”

“Oh really?” You pause, but not long enough for him to answer. “Maybe that’s because I don’t care.”

“Now we both know that’s not true.”

You glare at his arrogantly antagonizing smirk that paints itself perfectly against his plush lips. “Fine, whatever. I’ll bite. How was your year, Hwang?”

He looks proud of himself as he straightens up, his broad chest coming to press against his t-shirt in a way that makes you concentrate even harder on his face. “It was pretty cool, [Y/N], thank you for asking,” his tone sounding all too much like a tour guide for your liking. “I learned a lot abroad, I think I might do it again next semester.”

You take note of how he sighs wistfully at his statements, leaning back against his arms that are firmly planted at his sides on the log bench the two of you shared. “Oh really? A year wasn’t enough for you?”

“I knew you missed me,” he licks his teeth, squinting at you in an annoyingly playful way that unfortunately tugs at your heartstrings. “I just got to meet so many people, and try so many things. It was incredible, honestly. To be real, I think everyone should take at least one semester abroad. It realy brings out new sides of you.”

“Uh huh,” you mock, grossed out by how ignorant he sounds, speaking as if everyone can afford to just go to another continent for a year. “I bet.” What a snob. 

He looks a bit baffled at your reaction, but his smirk doesn’t falter. “Why so negative?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just happy here with the way I am,” you sneer, looking a bit peeved at his ‘insight’. “Maybe I don’t think everyone needs to go reinvent themselves abroad so they can be campus famous.”

He almost looks hurt by that, his expression finally falling a bit. “Seriously? That’s low.”

“You’ve gone lower,” you dismiss him, standing up, and brushing the backside of your pants. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you right now. Go find Yeonjun or something, I’m going back to find Jisung.”

You hear him mutter something along the lines of ‘shocker’, but chose to ignore it. Especially since he’d sounded in the mood to argue with you some more. 

When you do find Jisung, he’s being cornered by Felix, your blond friend encouraging him to take shots. When he sees you approaching, his face is full of relief. “[Y/N]! Hey, uh, I need to talk to you…” You quirk your brow as he approaches you, awkwardly sidestepping Felix with a gulp. Felix watches him, his head tilted in a bit of confusion, before he shrugs and downs his shot. 

“What do you need to talk to me about?” You bump him with your hip, your arms crossed loosely in front of you to maintain the bit of bodily heat you had. 

Jisung lets out an airy chuckle. “Aha, I didn’t actually have anything to talk about. I just couldn’t keep pouring out my shots behind me. I don’t know what he has in that bottle, but it’s, uh, it’s something.”

You crack up, knowing Felix, he probably had his own special concoction on him and he was only a few shots away from making Jisung throw up. You could barely drink with the guy, always tapping out of sharing whatever drink he made after the third sip. The man definitely lived up to your expectations for an Australian. 

“Mm, I see,” you nod in understanding. “Yeah he’s kind of a party animal if I’m being honest. Its pretty fun to party with him if you can get into it, otherwise it’s a little worrying to witness.”

“I can tell,” he nods, eyes wide and lips pulled into a grin. 

“So, how are you enjoying the trip so far?”

He looks to the sky, a finger finding its way to his chin to tap it theatrically. “Other than the mosquito that is living out its last days in the cabin, and Felix trying to give me alcohol poisoning… It’s kind of cool. I mean, its cold as fuck, but uh, it’s still cool.” 

You smile at that, taking note of how the cold air paints a flush across his cheeks while you both waddle in the direction of the cabin absentmindedly. When the two of you enter the lodge, you quickly take a seat on one of the sofas in the lobby that’s perched in front of the fireplace, sighing at the warmth. 

Jisung trails behind you hesitantly, like he’s unsure if he’s supposed to go sit with you or not. You notice, waving him over and patting the seat beside yourself. “Loosen up, Jisung. You’re stuck with me for a whole week.”

“Right, stuck,” he breathes out, laughing awkwardly.

You wonder what he means by that internally for a second. You know there’s something different about your blooming friendship with Jisung compared to your other friends, but you don’t want to push it. Making a move was never really your thing, and you didn’t want to make it your thing now either. Instead, you sink further into the couch, closing your eyes for a long second as you soak in the heat from the fire. 

Finally looking at him again, you start. “You know, I am glad you came. I really want you to enjoy this trip, this place is incredible, honestly.”

He gives you a look that makes your heart thump, but its not because he’s the one looking at you that way.

You bite your lip, eyes making their way to your hands as you try to push away the thought. You can’t help it though. It’s not your fault he was giving you those same doe eyes Hyunjin used to, after all. 

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You internally hate yourself for what has become of you and Hyunjin over the past few weeks. Not because you missed him, but because you can’t seem to go one day without him pushing your buttons. You’re even more upset that you’ve come to expect it at this point, sometimes finding yourself waiting for his sickenly hot voice to ‘ruin’ your day.

But honestly, who could blame you? He had essentially pavlov’d you to associate his irritating comments with his beautiful face and muscles. You can’t help it—you’re only human, after all. You have human reactions and desires—this was just a product of that.

That, and the glimpses you would get of someone other than this arrogant version of Hyunjin. Every so often, there would be a glint in his eye, a certain octave in his laugh, a wrinkle in his grin, and you would see him.

Not the showboater who had everyone flocking to him. Not the pompous bastard who would come up with pretentious analysis for his presentations. Not even the guy who treated his social media feed as if it needed to be updated daily.

You would see your Hyunjin.

And no matter how much you tell yourself to let it go, some part of you still wants to see more.

Which is why you didn’t pack up and decide to finish your semester project at home like everyone else in the art studio, but stay behind, even if he was only two seats down from you. For the most part, its a peaceful silence, the two of you not really talking in order to focus on your pieces. Hyunjin seems to be doing an oil painting, while you chose a mixed media collage and acrylic painting, with details that you’re planning to add at the end with fine liner pens. 

However, there are moments where you can almost swear he’s staring at you, but you can’t bring yourself to check. So you instead wait for them to pass, sitting in an uncomfortable stillness until they do. 

This time, the moment doesn’t pass silently. You hear Hyunjin put down his paintbrush and lean back in the creaky wooden chair. “So, how’s your painting going?”

You figure its best to pretend you don’t hear him, focusing on the music playing in your ears. Even if its low, Hyunjin doesn’t know that, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to talk to him today. Especially considering the way he had presented his current progress earlier in class—his excruciating TedTalk voice still replaying in your ears.

Hyunjin, however, doesn’t seem to take the hint. You hear his well rehearsed art critic voice once more, “Would you mind looking over my piece?”

You sigh, putting your brush into a stained cup of water and give in. “Sure, Hwang.”

He grins victoriously at that, sliding his seat back and gesturing to his painting confidently. You push yourself out of your seat and make your way to him, making sure to keep a good distance between the two of you. 

“I feel like it’s missing something,” he tells you, his own eyes examining his work from behind you. You give it a good look. It’s nice, that’s for sure. The flowers are vibrant, lively, and the detail is incredible. Yet, there’s something… flat about it all. “Yeah, it's missing depth. Everything about this is just surface—I can’t pull any kind of story from it.” Hyunjin tilts his head, a bit taken aback by your response. “Really? I was thinking it was more like reflective lighting or something…” “That too, I guess, but it seems really dull meaning wise. I guess you’re losing your touch… Must be all the hair dye getting to your brain.” “Ouch. Maybe we should just get your eyes checked. You have been making some questionable judgements lately…” He says, voice dripping with arrogance as he moves closer to his piece, disregarding your input. 

You scoff. “Whatever, Hwang. You asked, I delivered. Not my fault you can’t be critiqued anymore.” You shake your head at him, trudging back to your own seat, appalled by his reaction. How cocky could one be about their art? Why ask for a second opinion if you didn’t want it? Ridiculous. 

Still, when you see him lean back in his seat, looking at his painting as if it was personally offending him, your mind sees the boy who’d been too hard on himself for every piece. The one who would ask for your thoughts on every piece as many times as you’d be willing to answer, taking each suggestion as seriously as possible. 

Your heart aches. You miss that boy. 

—-

You shiver, the chilly morning air making your breaths come out in puffs of white as you await the shuttle meant to take you to the camp site entrance. A light breeze flows over you, and you huddle closer to Felix, who’s teeth are chattering into your ear. Glancing at your phone, you make a sound of distress. “Why is it so cold? And why is the bus taking so long?”

You hear Chan yawn beside you before he checks his own screen for the time. “Its not that cold, and the bus never gets us before seven fifteen. It’s only seven o’eight.”

Felix and Changbin whine at that. The four of you had gotten up bright and early to make sure you had all prepared everything you would need in time, and had made it to the pickup spot at around six forty. In other words, you had all been standing there for almost half an hour, freezing your asses off. You felt bad for the guy who was already there when you had arrived, wondering how long he had been waiting alone. There were a few other people, maybe ten, waiting scattered around the sidewalk alongside you all.

You whip your head around at the sound of a suitcase rolling up behind you, a bit shocked since you thought that everyone that would be going was already there. Your eyes trail up from his shoes, up his frame until you see his face. You jump away from Felix, making him huff in surprise before he searches for warmth in Changbin’s side. 

With a smile, you bounce over to the figure, ignoring the burning of the cold on your face as you approach. “You came!”

Jisung smiles sheepishly, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. “I’m hoping you still wanted me to?”

Despite your teeth clattering against each other, you still beam at him. “Of course I did! When did you change your mind?”

“... The night I spilled our drinks on you,” he chuckles, gloved hand tugging at his scarf. Clearing his throat, he adds on, “We just had such a good time, I uh, I thought maybe this could be fun um… with you.”

Both your faces redden, and thankfully the cold hides your red cheeks from each other. “Aw, that’s really sweet Jisung. I’m sure you’re going to love it.” He nods, rubbing his arms in search of warmth. 

Seconds later, you hear a trembling voice approach, a bit of mischief tucked into his tone. “Who’s this, [Y/N]? Your new boyfriend?” You nudge Felix roughly, making him topple over clutching his side, yet there’s still an amused grin on his freckled face. With a teasing groan, he pushes out, “Hey! I was just asking a question!”

You’re about to tell Jisung to ignore your freckled pest, but before you can, you’re cut off by another voice that makes you still. 

“[Y/N]’s boyfriend?” Hyunjin cuts in, appearing seemingly out of thin air, his tone teasing and… annoyed? He makes his way a bit closer, resting his elbow on Jisung in a way that makes you recall how he’d called Jisung short at the party. “Oh, hey… Jihyun.”

Jisung cringes a little at the name, and you internally begin to choke Hyunjin out because you can tell he remembers Jisung’s name correctly, he just wanted to be an ass. Still, your shy companion mumbles out a gentle, “It’s Jisung, actually…”

“Oh right, my bad man,” he puts on a faux apologetic look, before turning back to the rest of the group. “I can’t believe you’ve stolen [Y/N]’s heart already. Is it as cold and dark as I think it is?”

Of course, the Hyunjin you witnessed every once in a while wouldn’t be the one joining you on this trip. No, it had to be the one you’ve grown to loathe. 

You roll your eyes at him, in disbelief that this was really happening to you. Why on Earth is Hyunjin here? He had explicitly expressed that he was not interested in the trip at all. There can only be one reason.

The universe is out to get you.

That is the conclusion you come to as Hyunjin looms over the group, each second he’s there making your skin burn with irritation. Sure, he had become a bit more tolerable since the party, but you still couldn’t bear to be around the guy for more than a few hours—if even that. This can’t get any worse, right?

Wrong!

You hear the voice of the only person that could rival your irritation towards Hyunjin. Yeonjun. He hasn’t done anything to you directly, sure, but you could almost swear that he was at least half the reason for Hyunjin’s barely tolerable act. It seemed like everything Hyunjin did that you found utterly ridiculous, Yeonjun was part of it. Campus photoshoots? Yeonjun was taking Hyunjin’s picture, before they switched roles. Overly artificial opinions on anything? Yeonjun. The only good thing you saw Yeonjun contributing to Hyunjin’s life would be the gym, because if Hyunjin wasn’t rocking open carry with those guns, you wouldn’t be able to stomach him half as long as you had been. 

You turn to see not only Yeonjun, but Yeji, and Beomgyu as well, except only the first two have suitcases. Yeonjun and Yeji both seem at least fairly upbeat—as upbeat as Yeonjun can seem with his permanent model face, at least—while Beomgyu is clearly sporting a pout. 

“Hey! Yeonjun!” Changbin grins, and you quirk your brow at the familiarity that he greets him with. When had those two gotten so close?

“Hey man!” Yeonjun nods back, still keeping his nonchalant pace. 

As they get closer, you hear Beomgyu whining to Yeji, “Please, just let me take your spot! I’ll pay you, seriously, aren’t we friends?”

“I didn’t do all that studying for nothing, Gyu, you shouldn’t have failed two exams!” She scolds him, but you can’t deny that she still sounds a bit playful in doing so. 

Still, he whines, tugging at her scarf, “I tried! I swear, those two professors just hate me!”

“Oh yeah?” She looks at him, “And why is that? Because you don’t behave in lectures!”

He winces at that, and you see his eyes light up seconds later with one last idea. “What about the rats? You’re going camping, surely there will be rats?”

You see her stop in her tracks, face scrunched in worry, before she squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m just going to have to pray that they don’t get to me. I’m not passing up a free vacation just so you can fail courses again next semester. Maybe this will teach you something about work ethic.”

Beomgyu looks defeated, and you can’t deny that they bicker like cartoon characters, but you can’t help but find Yeji… Admirable? The girl participated in some of the ‘campus celebrity’ activities, sure, but she sounds genuinely hardworking. Nothing like what you would expect from Hyunjin’s new friend group, especially from the one who was related to him. 

Yeonjun finally appears at Changbin’s side, giving you all a quick once over before complimenting Changbin’s outfit and throwing the rest of you quick nods. “So, any sign of the bus yet? The longer I look at Beomgyu the worse I feel.”

You and Felix tilt your heads, Felix piping up to say what you were both thinking, “I would have thought you would be happy to get away from the guy, based on how you were last time.”

He shakes his head. “No, he’s a little weird and some work, but I always have his back when I can. Feels wrong going without him, but he insisted that I go anyway.”

You let out a small huh, at that, feeling like you were suddenly seeing things you wouldn’t have under normal circumstances. Based on the group lunch you all had, you thought the two had more of a Tom and Jerry thing going on, not whatever this maternal instinct Yeonjun was basically overflowing with as he stared at his friend sadly. 

Somehow, the more you get to see of these people, the less you understood them.

While everyone is catching up, you can’t help but allow your eyes to wander. Of course, as they always seem to (unfortunately?), they find their way to Hyunjin. You haven’t even noticed the way you’ve trained on his lips until they’re much closer to you, smirking. 

“You know, someone other than me is going to catch you staring one of these days,” his voice low enough that you doubt anyone else hears over their own small talk, except maybe Jisung, but just loud enough that you can hear every bit of smugness dripping from his tongue. You’re about to protest, when he starts again. “If you missed me that much, you could just say so.”

Keeping your own voice down, you laugh, shaking your head. “And just when I think you’re not all piercings and box dye, there you are again.”

“At least I can say I’m consistent,” he licks his lips.

“Consistently aggravating, Hwang.”

“So we’re going to pretend you’re smiling right now because I’m annoying?” he teases, eyes darkening as they glance at your mouth. He says it like he knows he’s right, arrogant and unwavering. 

You didn’t even realize you were smiling until that moment, your lips faltering as you process his words. But you recover just as quickly as you’d stumbled. “I smile all the time. You aren’t special.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, but we both know that you don’t give anyone else that smile. That one,” he pauses, his eyes almost seeming to zero in on you in a way that makes you want to be anywhere else, “that one is for me.”

Your heart stutters, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to say back to that, your brain scavenging for anything witty to retort back when you hear the familiar sound of gravel crunching under tires. 

Reaching around Hyunjin, Jisung taps you, his eyes looking at you with a gentle alertness. “Hey, uh, the bus is here. Let me help you with that,” his hand already reaching for your suitcase before you can even think to stop him. It warms your heart, and you give him a grateful smile for helping you pull away from the uncomfortable silence that had found its way into your throat. 

You silently thank everything for the bus’s timing, choosing to awkwardly ignore Hyunjin rather than give him more attention. At least this way, you can pretend you don’t notice the way his eyes follow you as Jisung puts your luggage into the vehicle, or the way your stomach twists you fight to keep your own gaze off of Hyunjin.  

When you finally load into the bus, you think you have at least two hours of peace, Jisung sat on your right while you nab the window seat. However, you’re proven wrong when you feel a hand grip your seat’s headrest, a familiar scent hitting your nose as a presence leans over you.

“You ready?” Hyunjin’s voice mutters, something challenging dancing in his voice. 

“As I’ve ever been,” you sigh, already mourning the rest of the week. 

Thankfully, Jisung catches your mood, leaning over to you with an adorably shy smile that eases your heart. “Um, you should, like, take a nap, I’ll wake you up when we get there. Don’t worry, I won’t let you like, hit your head or anything.”

As if on cue, you yawn, and he laughs at that before offering his shoulder. Sheepishly, you accept it, doing your best not to take not of the way Hyunjin removes his hand from your seat, sliding into his own with what you can only describe as an unimpressed huff. 

This was going to be a long week.

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You feel the cold before you see the damage. Whoever had bumped into you had also spilt your beverage all over your shirt. And by the mixed aromas, you’re pretty sure they spilled their drink on you as well. 

Hunching over and pulling the fabric of your shirt away from you, you get ready to spew everything you’ve been holding in, when an all too familiar jumbling of words hits your ears. 

“I-I’m really, really sorry! Fuck, are you okay? I uh, I can buy you a new shirt! And a new drink—I’m so so sorry,” he sputters out, hands hovering around your frame like they don’t know how to help.

“Jisung?” You brighten up, flipping around towards him. “What’re you doing here?”

He looks stunned, “[Y/N]? Oh, oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Somehow, he seems more embarrassed upon learning you’re the person he’s drenched in alcohol. “Please let me get you something else to wear.”

Hyunjin blinks in confusion, one hand on your shoulder from when Jisung had bumped into you, his gaze jumping between the two of you. “Hold on, you know this guy?”

You ignore Hyunjin, still pinching the shirt to keep it from sticking to your skin. “I don’t need you to buy anything, I’ll get a shirt from one of the stands.”

Jisung holds his hands out in front of you, following you as you start moving towards one of the stands, Hyunjin also in tow, silently staring your acquaintance down. “No, really, let me buy it! I feel so bad, it would help me, honestly!”

You shake your head at him, finding his persistence endearing, “Jisung…”

“I just don’t want you to remember me as a jerk,” he admits, defeated as he follows you through the crowd, weaving through the other guests. “Please, let me buy you a new one.”

“Oh yeah, that would suck. [Y/N]’s really into hating jerks right now,” Hyunjin cuts in, handing a vendor a few bucks and snagging one of the graphic tees they had hanging from the stand. “Too bad I already bought a shirt.”

He attempts to hand it to you, but you just side eye him, unhappy with his comments towards Jisung. Especially with how nervous Jisung seems to be, pale from the idea that you’ll actually hate him from now on, and because of the passive aggressive attitude Hyunjin is exuding. When you don’t accept his offering, he just sighs, stepping back with his arms up in a surrender pose. “Fine! Fine! He can give you the shirt.”

You roll your eyes as he drops it in Jisung’s confused hands, throwing you a sly look as he does so. Jisung shuffles over to you, handing you the shirt and leaning in with a hand over his mouth to hide his words. “Um… not to be rude or anything, but uh, is he okay? Did I do something? Like besides bumping into you…”

You mimic his actions, bringing your hand to cup over your mouth. “You didn’t do anything, he’s just an ass. Genuinely, ignore him.”

Jisung nods, slowly turning to Hyunjin and throwing him an awkward wave and smile. Hyunjin waves, making a sarcastically happy face as he does so. You don’t have the energy to roll your eyes again, so instead you ask Jisung to walk you to one of the bathrooms so you can change. 

He stands outside the bathroom, shifting side to side nervously as people throw him odd looks for waiting outside the girls’ bathroom. He gulps at a particularly nasty look from a girl who was about to enter, before she decides against it at the sight of him. “Hey, uh, are you almost done in there? People are looking at me like I’m some kind of creep…”

You laugh from inside, wiping the remaining alcohol off your skin with a soapy wet napkin. “I just need another minute, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckles, hiding behind his hand from passersby.

“What’re you doing here anyway? I would think big crowds like this weren’t your thing.”

“Well, uh, you’re right. My friend dragged me here… he promised he’d stay close by, but uh, I lost him around ten minutes in,” Jisung mutters the end, scratching the back of his neck. “I was actually on my way out when I ran into you—literally. Sorry again, by the way.”

“It’s fine!” You hum, popping out from the restroom. Jisung jumps, unprepared for your exit. “Thanks for sticking around long enough for me to get changed at least.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind staying longer if um…” he trails off, staring at the sky above you sheepishly, “if you would let me stay with you?”

“Ooh, look at you,” you joke, taking note of his flushed neck and ears. “I’d actually like that a lot. Would keep Hyunjin off my back, too, I think.”

He smiles at that, and you drag him off to get new drinks.

—-

Hanging out with Jisung is a lot more fun than you’d expect. Not that you thought he was boring, he just is a lot more open with you than he was last time. He’s cracking jokes at you every few minutes, playful nudging you, and even dancing a bit with you when the DJ finally starts playing some real certified club bangers. You’re surprised he actually lived up to his words of not normally being as awkward as he was in the library. 

Which is how you find yourself, tipsy as ever, perched against a brick divider in the campus quad; Jisung is at your side, equally as tipsy.

It's honestly the most you’ve enjoyed yourself in a while, and you find yourself staring at Jisung more than you would like. Oh these drinks…

You catch him looking at you too, letting out nervous laughs every time your skin brushes. He doesn’t move away, though. You don’t want the night to end any time soon.

Unfortunately, all good things must.

Jisung’s phone rings obnoxiously from his pocket, begging to be answered with MINHO flashing on the screen aggressively. He gives you a look that reads I have to take this, and you turn away innocently, giving him the green light to answer it. 

“Hey? Minho—oh… Right now?” He frowns, hand coming up to his lips in a bit of shock. “Well can’t you take him?”

You look at him with a raised brow, wondering what news he could be receiving to make him pout like that. 

He sighs, mumbling something into the device, and turning to you with remorseful eyes. “I really hate to cut this short… but I have to take someone home. My friend is puking up a storm I guess.”

You laugh at that, smiling in understanding, “I get it, don’t worry. We can hang out again soon, right?”

“Right,” he nods, licking his lips in what seems like nerves. He looks like he wants to do something, but you can’t exactly figure out what before he stands up abruptly. “I’ll see you?”

“Yup.”

He gives you that same awkward bow before he basically runs off, sifting through people in search of his friends. 

The silence that follows is peaceful and empty, but only for a moment, as you hear someone hopping down to take a seat on the other side of you seconds later. You don’t need to look to figure out who it is, the mix of familiarity and unknown giving it away immediately. “What do you want, Hwang?”

Hyunjin sighs, “So this Hwang thing is sticking? No thank you for saving you from sitting alone for eternity? Just what do you want, Hwang?” A mix of irritation and amusement on his face as he pushes his tongue against his canine. 

“Yup.”

“Nice,” he nods sarcastically. There’s a beat of silence before he starts up again. “Didn’t think you were into guys like him.”

You huff at him, standing in annoyance. Two sentences and you were already sick of him for the next three weeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know,” he stands too, a small smirk playing at his lips as he fiddles with his hands, “he’s really timid… and short.”

“Short? Really?” How in depth, you think to yourself, displeased with his attitude.

“Amongst other things,” he saunters towards you, a certain cadence to his walk that makes your heart stutter.

Glancing around, scoffing, you cross your arms. “Jisung’s a great guy, I’m actually hoping he’s going camping with us. I’d really love to see more of him.”

Hyunjin hunches over to bring his head a little more leveled with yours. “Would you now? So what? He can say sorry to the dirt he walks on?”

“Wow!”

“What? I mean, is that the plan? Replace me with him?”

“Replace you?” You laugh dryly, exasperated with your former friend. “You ever think I might just be making a new friend because I like him? Like, honestly, you’re not that important to everyone. Not everything is about you.”

“So you just honestly like the nervous wreck in an oversized hoodie?”

“You know what, Hwang? I do. I like that he’s himself,” you correct, in disbelief that he was belittling someone so openly. “I like that he’s not afraid to seem kind or compassionate, and that he doesn’t need to be the center of everything to breathe.”

“Is that it?” His facade cracks.

“Plus, he seems to actually want to hang out with me, unlike some people who are only ever around when they want to piss me off,” you finish him off, a certain bite to your words that make his face drop fully.

“Subtle.”

You turn around to leave, pausing mid step, wanting to say something more but you can’t find the words. After a moment of reluctance, you breathe out, storming off. 

Why did he have to be so fucking irritating? 

More importantly, why did you almost enjoy it?

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“I can’t believe how he presented our poster. That stupid Ted Talk Voice he was using was some crazy work.”

Felix all but cackles, his phone illuminating his face as he taps on the screen, playing one of his video games. It's a talent, the way he’s able to walk around with his face buried in his phone without crashing into anyone. “Okay, I’m not trying to hate, really. But if I hear him say “impact” or “influence” one more time, I’m going to crash out.”

You snort, dodging a girl who walks past you with glowsticks around her neck. “Shh, he might hear you and start explaining how mockery is the epitome of admiration.”

Felix throws his head back in laughter, “Oh my God, he would totally do that.”

“Okay, where are Chan and Changbin? I feel like I’ve walked past them like, three times, and I just haven’t recognized them because they’re probably wearing glowstick glasses.”

Finally putting his phone away, Felix lifts his head to try and look over the people around you—it doesn’t work for the most part, but he manages anyway. “I think they’re by the fountain, c’mon,” he waves at them, pulling you by your arm in their direction.

You trail behind him, silently wondering why his grip on your wrist is so firm, before you see it. Or, well, him. 

There he stands, muscles on display in his wifebeater and glow-in-the-dark paint flicked all over his light-wash jeans in an intentionally artsy way that makes your eyebrows furrow. A girl leans against the fountain beside him, one of her hands on his bicep, but you don’t pay her too much attention before you’re tugging yourself out of Felix’s grasp and attempting to plant your feet into the ground beneath you in protest. 

“Felix! I will shave your head, I swear!” You fight him, causing a small scene as you try to prompt him to release your wrist. “I hate you!”

“You don’t even have to talk to him! He just invited all of us, and I thought it would be better if you didn’t know beforehand!”

“Do you even realize how wrong that sounds? I hate you,” you growl at him, snatching your arm away when he finally lets you go. “Were you all aware of this?”

Chan shrugs, “Not really, but I see where he’s coming from. The two of you need to learn to be in the same room without blowing up at each other. Hyunjin might be a bit of a prick now, but at least he’s attempting to be some kind of friend by inviting you.”

You gasp, “Really? So that’s what you think? That I’m the bad guy here? Really nice going there, Chan.”

Chan sighs, dragging a hand down his face, and groans. “That’s not what I mean at all, you know that. I’m just saying, maybe you could just try to adjust to the new Hyunjin? Then we can all live happily ever after.”

His words make you scowl. Adjust to the new Hyunjin? The guy using your lovely friend’s body and newfound hotness as a mask to raise hell in your life? Hell no. 

Chan gives up at the look in your eye, too tired from schoolwork to argue with you, especially since you’ve seemed to stop trying to run back to your bed and have instead opted to at least feel the party out. You, though, are still strung up on what he’d said to you moments ago. Adjust to the new Hyunjin?

It drives you mad, the way everyone is acting like you’re the one being difficult, when Hyunjin had basically swapped places with an identical (yet somehow, dare you say, hotter) stranger. As if you didn’t want to get over his new attitude and just get along with the guy, but you physically cannot.

Not when everytime you see him, you see the Hyunjin who would beg to walk you home when it was even the slightest bit dark outside. The Hyunjin who would, despite all your protests, split his tteokbokki with you every time. Hyunjin, who you could almost swear was leaning in under these same fireworks two years ago, before he chickened out and ran off to get you both drinks (despite the ones that were still full in your hands). Adjust? Yeah, right.

Stealing a glance at the man of your predicaments, you tug at your inner cheek. 

… Maybe you could try to stomach him for one night.

Just then, your concentration is broken by a boom, followed by a group whoa as you all stare in awe at the colorful sky.

You find yourself easing into the comfortable setting. You just needed to get out of your thoughts, ignore your problems for once, and enjoy hanging out with your friends under some pretty fireworks with alcoholic beverages filling your cups to the brim. That was it, and everything else would melt away.

Which almost works, except you can’t help but sneak glances at Hyunjin and the girl who was all but draping herself over him. You’re close enough to hear their conversation, making faces whenever she says something that sounds a bit too desperate for your liking, or whenever he feeds into it. 

“I just can’t take my eyes off that smile of yours,” she giggles at him, tracing a finger along his collarbone.”Even covered in glowy paint, you’re still pulling it off.”

Hyunjin chuckles that stupid practiced chuckle he does all the time now, running his tongue over his teeth. “What can I say, the smile works,” he pauses, voice dripping in what you can only assume is aphrodisiac with the way it makes her swoon at him, before he flicks his eyes to meet yours suddenly. “Right, [Y/N]?”

Caught off guard, you all but jump, cheeks slightly tinted red at the fact that you’d been caught eavesdropping on their talk. Still, you play it cool. “Depends on the judgment of the audience, I guess.”

Felix, who was standing purposely within earshot, chokes on his drink at that. You really couldn’t help yourself, could you? Hyunjin’s grin remains, though his eyes shine with something you can’t quite pinpoint. Maybe you had gotten under his skin for once. 

Hyunjin, however, seems to find your dismissive attitude towards him almost challenging. You know this because, less than ten minutes later, he’s lost the girl and has made his way into your personal space. “So, you enjoying the night?”

You look up at the sky as if it would make him disappear, sighing when it doesn’t, and turning to face him. Deadpanning, you begin, “Well, I was trying to.”

“Well, you must have been doing a pretty lousy job if I’ve ruined it already,” he snickers, and you try not to pay attention to just how close his face is to yours now that he’s leaned down to speak more clearly. 

“Why are you even over here, Hwang?”

With a hand flying to his chest, he makes a hissing sound. “Ouch! Hwang? That’s a new low.”

You roll your eyes, looking past him to see where he had been previously standing. “Oh, get over it. Where’s your arm candy? Shouldn’t you be flashing those pearly whites at her?”

He shrugs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in a way that makes you feel ways you really don’t want to. Must be the drink… “Lost track of her. Besides, I feel like you need to see the smile more than she does. Since you think you’re immune all of a sudden.”

“All of a sudden? Wow, you really are full of yourself,” you sneer, moving to turn away from him again. Don’t have to talk to him my ass. 

He stops you midway, hand holding your bicep gently as he turns you back to him. “No, I’m just not ignoring the past…” he trails off, his face softening almost imperceivably, “... besides, you don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out, right?”

“What?” You jump back, eyebrows scrunched up and mouth open in disbelief. There was no way Hyunjin just said that to you—the guy rarely ever had the nerve to tell you he thought you looked good without stuttering through every word. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The past or you checking me out?”

“The checking you ou—actually, that too, what do you mean by the past?” You all but yell at him, ignoring the way your face has definitely turned red. You know exactly what he means—about both things—but giving him the satisfaction of you basically agreeing to both things was just not something you were willing to do right now. 

He scoffs, searching your eyes for something. “Nice try, I know you know what I’m talking about [Y/N]. We’ve never really just been friends.”

You gulp, about to deny what he’s saying, when someone crashes into you.

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“I already apologized! Please! Mercy!” Felix begs theatrically; however, his wincing is real as you drag him by his ear towards your Art Concepts and Theories classroom. 

You finally release him as you trudge through the doorway, before smacking him once on the shoulder for good measure. You drop into your seat with an unmistakable attitude, throwing your friend a glare. You hiss at him, “I swear if you try and get me to hang out with him again, I will shave your head. I mean, how can he be so damn aggravating? ‘Keep telling yourself that’? Really?”

Felix cautiously takes a seat beside you, gulping in fear that you might try and make him pay further for his poor judgment of the lunch date. “I didn’t expect it to go that badly! I thought maybe you two would ignore each other at first and then ease up around the rest of us. That was my bad.”

Exasperated, you roughly pull out your laptop, looking up your class schedule. “He’s just so—ugh. What the hell was in the air over there? How does someone get so—”

“Hot?” Felix jokes, wiggling his brows at you as he hides behind his shoulder bag.”Kidding… kind of. He is hot, but like, I know what you meant.”

Your face contorts into one of scorn as you skim through the dates, muttering to yourself about how sick of Hyunjin you had become. How he was so into himself, so unaware of how insufferable he had actually become, how—

How impossible he had become to ignore.

You gulp to yourself, pushing the thought away and instead returning to the real world. “October fifth… sixth… seventh…  and… eighth,” you say aloud, dragging out your last two words when you finally find the date you had been scanning for. “Oh, Felix, we have a group project today.”

He squints at your screen, turning it to face him. “Man, I thought we were getting a break.”

You wave him off, “We had a break last week, plus it doesn’t look to be anything big since it's only scheduled for the next few days.”

Still, Felix slides down in his seat, wallowing. He only sits up when he sees your professor walk in, clad in his perfectly pressed slacks and cuffed dress shirt, hair gelled to perfection, his hands cleaning his glasses as he stares at you all, devoid of emotion. Felix wouldn’t dare to be caught slouching in his class again after the last time when he had called him out for his unwelcome demeanor at the beginning of the semester. 

Clearing his throat, he leans against his desk at the front of the room. “So, today and next class, you all have a project due. I will be assigning groups of four, where you must work together to design and create a poster following a theme of my choosing to be hung on campus.”

He grabs a lone piece of paper from his desk, flicking it straight, and begins reading, “Group 1 will consist of…”

You start working on an analysis for Art History while you wait to hear your name, fluttering between tabs as you pull details from your notes about specific pieces to elaborate on. While you might not have been the most studious person you knew, you made a habit of getting your work done as early as possible—something that you wished would rub off on Felix. Halfheartedly, you hope that he won’t be part of your group.

“Group six, Lee Felix, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, and” you pale, the next few seconds passing in slow motion. Please, please, anybody but me. “[L/N] [Y/N]. Your theme is recycling, make it inspiring and concise.”

You have to physically restrain yourself from slamming your head against your desk, your spirit crushed. Why oh why doesn’t the universe allow him to leave your life?

Your professor reads off the last couple of groups while you throw death stares at the side of Hyunjin’s head, blaming him for all your shortcomings internally. He then dismisses you to all group up and begin brainstorming for the rest of the period, directing you all to turn in a list of thumbnails by the end of class. 

You refuse to move from your seat, Felix sweating a bit as he waves Hyunjin and Changbin over to where the two of you reside. You purposely keep your eyes trained on your spare sketch book as you start to draw out some layout ideas, making sure not to give Hyunjin the attention he wants. You know he’s looking at you, with that irritating grin that he loves to pair with those antagonizing eyes that always piss you off. He has to be with the way he slips into the unoccupied seat on the side of you that Felix isn’t. 

Changbin all but bounces toward you all, a grin that's the slightest bit nervous stretched onto his lips. He takes the empty seat beside Felix, leaning in to talk to all of you, “Hey, what are the odds we all get into a group together? How lucky is that?”

“Right, lucky,” you mumble, grip tightening on your pencil. 

You see Felix throw Changbin a look through the corner of your eye, followed by Changbin glancing between you and Hyunjin a few times before his mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape. Felix nods at him before turning back to the two of you. “Anyone have any ideas yet?”

Hyunjin stretches back in his chair, allowing one of his arms to drape along the back of your seat, making you lean away from him, much to his amusement. “I was thinking we could try and target society a bit. Like, we could really highlight the ties between overconsumption and its prominence in today’s world, and how it affects our ecosystem. We could promote thoughtful ways to reduce buying unnecessary products that become trash quickly, and repurposing older, higher-quality items instead. Creativity over consumption.”

Changbin bites his lip, “I don’t know. It’s a good idea, but it’s just a poster for the recycling bins.”

“And? Why can’t we attack the ecological and economic states of the world simultaneously, one campus bin at a time?”

“Oh my God,” you mutter, almost laughing. 

Hyunjin looks down at you, brow raised in curiosity. “What? Don’t act like you aren’t just jealous you didn’t come up with it first.”

Finally, looking at him, you push his arm off your chair. “I’m not jealous, I just can’t believe you really think you’re some kind of modern philosopher with that, Mr. Fast Fashion Temp Piercings. Seriously, you’re not that deep, Hyunjin.”

The table falls silent for a second, save for Felix stifling his own laugh, before Hyunjin places a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Okay, first of all, they were a gift. Second, wow! That was harsh, especially coming from someone who once called me a glimmer of hope for modern artists.”

“That was before you decided to become some edgelord. You were more punk before when you were wearing beige cardigans, honestly.”

Hyunjin leans forward a bit, his mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think you were paying so much attention to me. Watch it, I might start thinking you like me again.”

You stare at him, eyes hard. “Right, and I might start thinking you actually believe your own bullshit. Keep dreaming.”

You try not to pay his words any mind. Again. He couldn’t have been insinuating what you thought he was, right? Bringing up old feelings that you definitely don’t still have. That was too low, even for him… right?

Felix lets out an awkward laugh, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders and pulling you towards him, “Okay, love the passion! Let’s redirect it to our work, though. What color should the background be?”

You don’t fight him, but you do catch the way Hyunjin’s grin seems to falter ever so slightly as he drags his eyes to look at the Australian. “You’re right, Felix. I was thinking we could do an ocean blue background…”

You finally shift to face Felix and Changbin, ignoring whatever Hyunjin is saying and instead willing your thoughts to drift to a time when he wasn’t the thorn in your side.  Unfortunately, all you can seem to focus on is the faint scent of Rose 31 and the impossible-to-ignore heat radiating from him behind you.

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You can’t wrap your head around why on Earth Felix insists on you coming to Hyunjin’s lunch date, considering he knows how much you can’t stand the man. Unfortunately, your friend has some incredible persistence, and you find that you would rather deal with the consequences of giving in later than continue with his constant begging. 

“So you’ll come?” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.

With a reluctant sigh, you agree. “Only if you promise not to talk about it anymore. If I hear you mention it one more time today, I will stay home.”

“Deal.”

It's weird, feeling like you would rather do anything than hang out with Hyunjin. Yet, here you are, hoping something comes up so he calls off the lunch. To think there was a time when it was harder to find you and Hyunjin not hanging out together. How times change.

“Alright, now lose the beanie!” You hear someone call out to your right. Speak of the…

There he is, posing in false nonchalance against one of the school’s murals. His friend from the library, Yeonjun, is on the ground with his phone out. Photoshoot? Seriously? How much more pretentious can he get? 

Despite thinking they look ridiculous, acting like celebrities in the middle of campus, you can’t help but be a bit interested as well. 

Hyunjin places both his hands on his head, seemingly hesitant as he looks to his friend for confirmation. When Yeonjun nods, Hyunjin takes a deep breath and a few glances around himself before his eyes catch on you, and he seems to stutter physically before he returns to his more confident self, pulling the garment off and revealing his new hair. 

Red and blue-toned black tuffs stand up in almost organized chaos, his mullet grown out into a perfectly tousled length, and even you can’t deny how incredibly good it looks. The colors fit his skin like he was made for them, so much so that your breath catches for a second. Others seem to notice as well, a few dramatic ‘oohs’ and ‘aws’ emanating from bystanders in the vicinity, and the novelty of Hyunjin’s hot new style is now lost upon you. Mostly, at least.

You just couldn’t get behind this train of celebrity treatment for Hyunjin since he got back. Yes, he was fine beyond comprehension, but seriously? It seemed like everyone was tripping over their own feet for the guy. The way necks break for him was so overdone at this point. Sheep. 

Still, you look on, hoping to see another crack in Hyunjin’s appearance—like maybe he also knew how ridiculous this whole thing was. However, as he continues to strike directed poses from his cameraman, the light in your chest fizzles, and you once again accept that this is just who Hyunjin is now. A popular guy who treats the world like his personal red carpet. 

Your eyes linger for a moment longer before you peel them off his frame, shaking your head as you leave the scene. Once you’re far enough away to relax, you let out a groan of frustration.

Fuck he looks good. 

You loathe him.

——

“So you’re [Y/N],” Yeonjun draws out, adding discomforting emphasis, eyeing you in a way that makes you wonder what the hell Hyunjin has told him.

You raise an eyebrow at him, scooting into the booth beside Felix. “Uh, yeah? Why’d you say it like that?”

He waves you off, “No reason. I’ve just heard a lot about you.”

“I bet it was all wonderful,” you say with an overly sarcastic tone, shooting Hyunjin a glare. He throws a wink your way in response.

Another boy, Beomgyu, stands in his seat with a finger raised, “Actually—ow!”

“Oh shut up,” Yeonjun glares at him, wiping the hand that he’d used to pull Beomgyu back to his seated position on his jeans. “Ignore him. Hyunjin said a lot of good things about all of you.”

You nod slowly, not really believing him and wishing Beomgyu had gotten a chance to say what he wanted, “... right.”

“He has, seriously,” Beomgyu adds, putting defensive hands up to Yeonjun. 

You give them all quizical looks before Hyunjin speaks up, one brow raised. “What? Did you think I was going to act like you don’t exist? I would never do that.”

Oh, you think to yourself, so that’s where he’s going with this. 

Before you can really give Hyunjin a piece of your mind, Felix clears his throat, while Chan decides to move to a more comfortable conversation. “So, how’s everyone’s semester going?”

Hyunjin’s cousin Yeji speaks up first from her spot in the corner of the booth seat across from Felix, gushing about a new clothing store that had opened up near her apartment complex. “It’s really incredible in there, you should really check it out with me [Y/N]!”

You give her a small nod, thinking her proposition doesn’t sound too bad. Really, the only drawback is that she’s related to Hyunjin, who seems to just keep popping up wherever you are. You could only imagine if they were anything alike, how horrible it would be to be stuck with two of him. 

“I’m really excited for the camping trip, personally,” Felix chimes in next, sipping his milk tea blissfully. “The cabins supposedly got fixed up a bit since last year, and they’re said to have a new dining area next to the lake, too.”

“Have you guys gone every year?” Yeonjun tilts his head at you guys, seemingly confused at Felix’s statements. Your side of the table nods, Chan motioning to Hyunjin as he explains that it was almost tradition for you guys to all go. 

Beomgyu and Yeji perk up a bit at how you guys talk about the trip, intrigued. “Is it actually cool, or are you guys just talking it up?”

“No, we’re being completely honest—I mean, yeah, it's camping,” you shrug with your words dismissively, “but it's so beautiful and it's a great way to unwind after exams end.”

They seem to hum in unison, Yeji and Beomgyu looking far more interested in the trip than you would have expected of Hyunjin’s newer friend group. Yeji taps her chin, “Maybe I’ll sign up before it's too late.”

Hyunjin goes next, running a hand through his hair in a way that almost looks calculated, “I’ve been pretty busy lately. You know, with all the games going on recently, and all the presentations they’ve been having us do in Lit and especially Art History. Oh, not to mention making this fire feed Yeonjun’s been helping me out with,” he grins, pulling out his phone and tapping away until it shows his most recent post. 

It's the photos from yesterday. You almost want to praise Yeonjun for how professional they look, except that you can’t stand what he’s helping Hyunjin turn into. 

Previously, he’d been a bit too shy to have a public account on any platform, only sharing it with his friends and mostly posting pictures of his paintings that he was the most proud of. Now? You couldn’t even see a single trace of the Da Vinci oils you had bought him two years ago—just his eccentric style and pretty face on display as he swiped through them.

“I look good as hell, right?” He grins, looking to the four of you across from him for approval. Everyone except you gives him quick hums of agreement, Felix hitting him with a quick ‘yeah man’ and a thumbs up, before the table falls awkwardly silent. “Talk about a tough crowd.”

You scoff, “Well, it’s a little hard to act excited about your feed when we basically see it in person every other day.”

He throws you a slightly pained, but more offended look, “Wow, that was mean.” His tone is a bit sheepish, and the dry laugh he lets out gives you a quick sense of satisfaction. 

“I’m just being honest,” you retort, scooting your glass of water closer to you. You sip it, shrugging at him.

Crossing his arms, he grumbles out a low, “You didn’t use to be this rude.”

That gets on your nerves. 

Maybe he meant when you used to be completely obsessed with him, or when you used to treat him like he alone made the sun rise every day, but he had ruined that for himself.

You sit up, mirroring his pose, and look at him in a sort of angered confusion. “Actually, Hyunjin, I haven’t changed.” You can’t say the same about others, though…

“Yeah,” he snickers to himself at your clear annoyance, “keep telling yourself that.”

Felix nudges you slightly, his eyes telling you to let it go for the sake of lunch, and you think to yourself about how you’re going to torture him for making you sit through this miniature hell.

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