Jong In pouted as he dropped his heavy school bag on the floor before crumpling into a heap on the wooden bench. The blue skies and chirping birds in the background did nothing to lift his mood and if anything, he thought they were mocking him. Letting out a long and frustrated groan, Jong In buried his face into his palms as he curled his body into the fetal position. Bad decision.

“I’ve been noticing you for a while now and I don’t know if you’ve realized but we’re actually in the same dance class. You’re always in the front with your friends and I’m all alone at the back though so maybe you haven’t?” Jong In gulped nervously when his gaze met stoic and unmoving ones and his mouth started blabbering on its own accord. “I know your full name is Oh Sehun and you go to Seoul Arts, and your favorite hangout spot is the bubble tea shop if not the dance studio. We’re also the same age.” Said owner of the expressionless eyes raised a brow upon hearing Jong In’s description of his life, slightly taken aback.
“Are you a stalker?” Sehun finally spoke and Jong In thought his life had been blessed until he registered what Sehun’s words really meant, which by then was too late for him to react accordingly. Sehun took tentative steps back before breaking into a run in the opposite direction of Jong In. Needless to say, Jong In’s confession had been a failure. Except he hasn’t even gotten to that part.

Jong In let out a whimper similar to that of a kicked puppy as he pulled his body upright. He was certain he wouldn’t see Sehun for a while. Even if the other boy did not avoid him, Jong In is far too embarrassed to show himself before his crush for the time being and that meant Jong In would probably have to skip dance classes. It’s literally the only thing that urged him to push through a long school day and Jong In can’t believe he screwed up so bad. Kicking his feet against the soil beneath his feet, Jong In allowed his sight to wander around the empty park as he searched for something to take his mind off the depressing news. He stood up when he spotted a smooth slab of stone under what he assumed was the largest tree in the entire park, ping his bag swiftly and rummaged through it before fishing out his penknife. Bad decision.

Jong In arrived home past dinnertime and his mom gave him a hard glare which had him bolting up the stairs two at a time. He could hear his elder brother snickering and Jong In huffed as he slammed the door to his room shut. Flicking the lights on, Jong In was about to drop onto his bed and just sleep the rest of this horrid day away when he noticed the scribbles all over his study table. “What the hell?” Jong In frowned as he approached the once spotless and glossy surface of his wooden desk. Realizing it must’ve been the work of his troll of a brother, he rolled his eyes before trudging out of the bedroom so he could fetch a wet towel and scrub the scribbles off. He bumped into Jongdae on his way back from the bathroom and Jong In didn’t hesitate to flip his brother off before ducking back into his room, completely missing the confusion on Jongdae’s face.

Jong In has half a mind to drag Jongdae’s over so he could scrub off his handiwork when no amount of elbow grease he’d used is enough to completely lift the stains of the permanent marker. Jong In had two choices, and he chose the easier way of admitting defeat when tiredness consumed him. Recalling he still had one paper to write for his literature class, Jong In wondered if it was worth going to detention in exchange for a way to end the day earlier and nope, he knew it simply wasn’t. He would rather live another couple of hours of this horrid day than endure another terrible day with the discipline master in the detention room. Carelessing tossing the dirty towel aside, Jong In proceeded to empty the contents of his school bag so he could locate his novel, except dread washed over him when he realized the pages of his once beloved novel had been scribbled over with the same black permanent marker.

“Kim Jongdae!” Bursting out of his bedroom, he hammered down his brother’s door before chucking the novel at his brother, hitting him square in the face.
“What the heck, Jong In? Why are you being all pissy today?” Jongdae frowned at his younger brother. “You’re going to pay for my surgery if you ruin this perfect face of mine!”
“Are you gonna go to detention on my behalf? Why the hell would you scribble all over my novel? I have a paper due tomorrow!”
“I did not scribble all over your pathetic love story!” Jongdae picked up the book and true to Jong In’s words, majority of the pages were filled with harsh black . “Your classmates must’ve been messing with you.”
“My book was fine up till I came home! Not to mention you also scribbled all over my study desk!”
“I absolutely did not enter your room! Which part of my words so you not understand?” Jongdae’s voice went up a notch as he grew visibly irritated and it doesn’t take an idiot to know that their mom had heard them fighting.
“Kim Jongs! Shut up and stay in your own rooms!”

Going to bed angry was one of the worst ways possible. It always resulted in a groggy Jong In who struggled to fight off his pounding headache. Realizing he’d be late for school if he didn’t hurry, Jong In had to bite back his groan as he tumbled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He already knew it was going to be a bad day, it was one of those days where he woke up just feeling it in his bones. His eyes bulged in their sockets when his reflection stared back at him in the mirror and all traces of sleep abandoned him immediately. “Kim Jongdae!” hollering his brother’s name at the top of his lungs, Jong In charged down the stairs in time to see his mom before she left for work. “Umma!” he whined. “Look what Jongdae drew on my face!”
“Jong In!” his mother gasped and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “I know you’re fighting with Jongdae but it’s not nice to draw your human reproductive parts on your face just to get your brother in trouble. He stayed over at his boyfriend’s house after fighting with you last night.”
“What?” Jong In stared at his mother dumbly.
“I expect you to bring him home by tonight since it seems to me it’s your fault this time round.” his mother barely spared him a second glance as she hurriedly shoved her feet into her stilettos. “Or else your father will be hearing of this and you know how much he hates it when you two disrupt the peace of the household.”
A distant memory of being fo