“I really do underestimate you, don’t I?”

Nam Woohyun rolled his eyes, skimming faster and faster down the document. As much as Nam Woohyun contrived his suave, pretty-boy facade, he’s well-versed into seeing through others. Sipping through his protein shake, I watched as his deep brown eyes flickered the text, before slamming the laptop shut.

“Well?” I urged.

His face scrunched unattractively at me. “You have a problem.”

“I meant the theory.”

“What, am I supposed to praise you for your close attention to detail and hyper analysis of a person you see nearly every day?” It hurt to hear the things I needed to hear, but it hurt even more coming from such a happy guy like Woohyun. “He’s a normal guy, why can’t girls see that?” He almost seemed frustrated that I started this entry. “And seriously, I don’t get this MPDB codename. He has a name, it’s Kim—”

“Hey!” I pounced on him, causing his drink to splosh on his shiny coated pants. “Someone might hear.”

“We’re in my dorm, and my roommate is Sunggyu, of all people.” Woohyun deadpanned, shifting uncomfortably on the thin mattress. I watched, unmoving, my legs crossed as we brushed knees. “But I guess I can’t argue that you have good taste.”

“He’s the MPDB.”

“Please don’t say that. It’s still weird. But I mean, he’s good-looking, and for goodness sakes he plays the guitar and does photography? That’s hot, girls dig the hipster vibe.”

“He isn’t a hipster.”

“Then he’s really smart, really awesome at math. But he also has that down to earth vibe, because he likes to watch anime and read for fun. And his eyes practically bore into your soul, like it’s as if you’re the only one in the room.” his eyes started fixing on some random point on the wall, as if he were trying to recollect all the times he’s ever made eye contact with him.

“Do you have a crush on him?” I laughed, finally breaking my friend from his speech.   

“No,” he huffed, hopping off the mat. “But it’s pretty obvious you feel something, even if it’s just fascination.”

“I wasn’t going to deny it.”

“So do us all a favor, and confess.” he picked a shirt off the floor, stared at it, before deciding to wear it over his wifebeater.

My voice grew quiet, I replied, “Who said I wanted to confess?”

“Then wouldn’t all these pent-up feelings go to waste?” Woohyun said, his eyes darting to the only window in his room. He gave me a sideways glance and parted the thin coral organza curtain, letting more sunlight in. “See, and look how perfectly positioned he is. It’s like fate, waiting for you.”

I snorted, “What is this, high school?” but I felt myself gravitating towards the window anyway.

He was resting on one of the cement blocks in the center of the quad, focused on whatever novel he was reading. People passed him by without a thought, and likewise he payed no mind. His dark hair looks better pushed back, you can see his eyes, the way they’re so intent on his book. It was as if the quad was empty and it was just him in his own world.

My lips setting in a thin line, I leaned against the windowsill. “If he found out how I thought about him, what do you think he’d say?”

“He’d probably be pretty embarrassed, and may never talk to you again.” it wasn’t Woohyun or me who responded, but rather Kim Sunggyu, who was leading against the doorframe, toothbrush in hand.

The two of us stared back, as if he were talking to the wall.

Sunggyu’s eyes flickered to the window, forlorn. “And considering all of his friends know but him, would probably break his heart.”

“Wise words from sunbae.” Woohyun clapped his hands together, as if to disturb the tense atmosphere. “Just talk to him.”

“It’s not like I’m intentionally ignoring him.” I reasoned to the two boys. “It’s just that whenever we’re in class or study group, he sticks to Sungyeol and doesn’t really talk to the girls.”

“So?” Sunggyu bated, pointing at me with his toothbrush. “Sungyeol sticks to you.”

“Not the same.” Woohyun defended, “Sungyeol is a lost cause.”

“While that may be true,” the light hit Sunggyu’s eyes, and his voice perked up. “Oh? He’s gone.”

Woohyun and I checked, and it was true. There was an empty spot in the middle of the quad, as if his ethereal being never existed. I wondered what was so important to him that he stopped reading his novel. I hated how attached I grew towards this personal project, how it made me suddenly feel sad that he was out of sight.

“I guess it’s a problem for another day.”