Oh well. A security guard switched off the lights, thinking that nobody was here.

“That always happens,” Hanbin mutters, entering back into the room after speaking to the guard.

“I see,” I say, trying to act natural even though I am dying from curiosity. What did he want to tell me?

The momentary black out seemed to stop his flow and he goes back to writing.

“Um, Hanbin?” I look at him expectantly.

“Hmm?”

“You wanted to tell me something,” I remind him. He swallows apprehensively. “What is it?”

Out of the blue, he pulls his chair closer and leans so close that I can feel warmth radiating from his skin. He gazes intensely into my eyes.

“I was playing with Hanbyul the other day,” he admits with a grave face.

My eyebrows twitch in annoyance. “Is that all?” I wonder, disappointed. Did he just want to tell me he has been playing with his little sister? Good for him, I think sarcastically.

“I found something when I was putting away her toys,” he continues. His eyes glazes as he relives the moment. “It was behind a pile of dolls. A really thick book.” His hands tighten in a grip. “It belongs to my dad.”

“Is it his diary?” Don’t tell me he read his father’s diary? I pray that it isn’t filled with his dad's teenage memories.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s…a book.”

Yeah, we established that. “What’s in it?” I press for further details.

“Accounts,” he finally answers after a long while. “Tons of accounts.”

“Accounts of what?” Accounts of his dad’s memories? Honestly, Hanbin can be so vague.

“Bank accounts.” Now he stares at me in anticipation.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask, not understanding where this is leading.

“Maybe you know how to read them. I didn’t study that far in school so I don’t really get what’s in it, but if you took a look at it—” I put my hand up to stop him.

“I don’t get it. Why do I need to ‘take a look’ anyway?”

“It might have something to do with their case. I’m sure of it,” he states, confident. “Why would he put it in Hanbyul’s room? He’s hiding it for a reason. It might help prove his innocence!”

Hanbin appears hopeful and I don’t dare to kill his joy.

He might not see it right now, but if Mr. Kim is hiding a book that important, why isn’t he using it as evidence so that he can be released from prison?

If he’s hiding it, then, for sure, he doesn’t want it to be found in the first place.

“I’m getting sleepy,” I say, standing up. “Goodnight, Hanbin.”

Hanbin looks taken aback. “You’re going to check it out for me, right? I’ll bring it over.”

“I’m not that smart either,” I tell him, avoiding his gaze. “You should just leave it.”

He holds my shoulder and pleads, “Youngmi…please, I need to know what’s in there. I don’t know anyone else who can help. Nobody else knows that my dad’s in prison.” His fingers dig into my skin.

“I’ll try,” I say, giving in.

----

I overslept!!!!!!!!!

I roll out of bed, put on my uniform, but realizing last minute that I cannot exit the company as a student, I throw on a pair of pants and a hoodie over my uniform.

Running out of the elevator, I bump into Jiyong. He blatantly trips me by putting his foot out and I fall to the floor pathetically.

“What the hell!” I yell, obviously displeased.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says as a greeting.

“Wow, really?” I mutter in disbelief. “That isn’t the way to show you miss me. No wonder you have such a troubling relationship.” I know that offends him but, man, did that fall hurt!

I brush my knees, wiping off the little amount of blood flowing. There’s really nothing to worry about but I exaggerate my actions to make Jiyong feel a bit guilty.

It worked. He tries to wipe a tissue on my knee but I aggressively push his hand away.

“I’m trying to help,” he says, frustrated as I evade him.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to if you didn’t trip me in the first place!” My blood boils even more when he rolls his eyes. His ego is over the roof! He won’t apologize. I pull my backpack close and bolt out the doors.

----

I’m walking home when a car that appears to be in desperate need of repair honks repeatedly, trailing me from the road.

The window rolls down and a dubious-looking man with moustache and beard grins at me.

“Come on in, Youngmi,” the man says from behind his cop shades. His voice makes me laugh when I realize who he is.

“Jiyong?!” I cover my face while I laugh really hard. “You look horrible.”

“Do you like my disguise?” he asks, reaching out to open the passenger door.

I’m about to enter when I remember that I’m supposed to be angry at him.

“Not really,” I say, shrugging while walking away.

He continues to drive alongside me with the door hanging open.

“Are you still mad?”

I ignore him.

“What can I do to get your forgiveness?” he sighs out loud.

“I don’t know, Jiyong. Maybe you should try apologizing?” I suggest deliberately.

“I’m sorry, okay,” he says, unconvincingly.

I walk on.

“I’m sorry! So sorry!” he tries again, pained. Although it doesn’t sound much better, I’ll give him some leeway considering how hard he is struggling to say it.

I enter the car and nearly choke on the deadly smell oozing out of the air-conditioner. I switch it off, coughing. “Holy crap, how can you stand it?”

“I can’t,” he confesses. “But it was getting hot in here…”

Taking a closer look at his disguise, I have to acknowledge it – I can’t see G-Dragon at all. He looks like a erted old fellow. Nobody wants to take a second look at him this way.

“What?” He notices me staring. “Don’t tell me you like this look?”

“You…don’t look like you,” I mutter, impressed.

He chuckles. “To celebrate getting your forgiveness…” He pulls over at the side. “Let’s have some ice cream.”

As he steps out of the car, I finally get a proper look at his outfit. It’s hideous!

I cringe. “Goodness, what are you wearing?” I exclaim in shock.

“Now you know how I feel when I look at you,” he replies without a second thought.

I purse my lips, containing my anger.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly tells me when he catches the change in my expression. “Truly.”

“I promise to buy you ice cream…?” he offers, attempting to cheer me up. I smile tightly in return.

----

Jiyong acts timid, afraid that people are going to find out that a top idol is right now sitting here, eating ice cream.

Every single movement made by strangers close by makes him freeze.

“Chill out,” I say, scooping a big scoop of caramel goodness into my mouth. “Just don’t start rapping.”

He relaxes slightly. He takes a of his strawberry sundae. “This tastes amazing.”

“I know right.” I close my eyes as I savour the cold, creamy taste of the sweet caramel.

“I should bring Kiko here,” he mutters, staring out the window. “She would like it.”

“You’re still with her?” I didn’t mean to sound extremely surprised but that’s how it ended up.

“I love her,” he replies shortly. I’m speechless by how prompt and honest his reply is. “That’s all I need to be with her.”

I snort, disagreeing with his latter statement. Love is not all that a couple needs.

He tilts his head interestedly. “You have something to add?”

“Um.” There’s no point sharing my thoughts. It’s not like I have any intention to break them up.

A couple of schoolgirls walk toward us and Jiyong stiffens in his seat.

Are they his fans? Did they really see through his disguise? I can’t believe it.

“Yes?” I ask them, glancing at their faces. Jiyong avoids facing them. “Can I help you?”

They appear nervous, pushing each other as they urge one of them to say something.

“Yes?” I repeat, raising my eyebrow.

“Unni,” one of them speaks out. She puts out a hand to me. “Unni, don’t let this guy fool you. Come with us, unni.”

Dumbfounded, I stare at them blankly.

“Unni!” another calls out, tugging on my sleeve. “Don’t be a victim. Follow us. We’ll protect you.”

I pretend to cough as I hold in my laughter.

These girls think that Jiyong is baiting on me for ual favours. The disguise legitimately works. Jiyong doesn’t say anything and keeps his eyes away from the girls.

“Unni, join us,” she urges, putting my hand that I have placed on the table in hers.

Well, wouldn’t this be an amazing way to execute a revenge? I might as well take this opportunity.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I say dramatically, standing up. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

They pull me closer to them, huddling around me.

“You disgusting man!” they shout, catching the attention of other customers.

Okay, I feel bad now.

One girl grabs my glass of water and splashes it on the back of Jiyong’s head. He is persistent enough trying to avoid eye to eye contact and doesn’t do anything.

Crap, her actions make me feel worse yet I can’t help chuckling under my breath.

“Let’s go.” The first girl puts her arms around my shoulders protectively. “Let’s go, guys. Leave that trash alone.”

I’m sorry, Jiyong. Thanks for tripping me on my face.