That image of Bogum's murderous stare had stubbornly stuck itself in my mind and refused to leave for the next few... hours.

I felt more than anything, a sense of disappointment. Here I thought I had found Mr Perfect-- conscientious, initiative, endearing and kind to a fault... With a smile like that I could believe that evil didn't exist in the world, that everyone got along and held hands singing songs. But... after what I saw yesterday... All those bubbling feelings vanished as quickly as they came.

I sigh. It's time to let go of that beautiful prince in my mind. 

By the next day, my mind was rid of Park Bogum. Well, kinda.

"Jae Eun unni!" an excited writer-friend grabs my arm, and drags me to the toilet with her. "Unni, Unni! Today Bogum Oppa actually talked to me!" she squealed into my shoulder, as I shoved her away. Ugh, I shake my head, scrutinizing her. To think that this was me yesterday, spazzing over something so trivial. 

"Yah, Unni! Do you need to make that face?" the friend jabs me at my side, making me jump. "But seriously," she continues, "How can there be a guy as perfect as him? I think the whole school population, girls and guys alike, is in love with Bogum Oppa!" 

Did she just echo what used to be my sentiments of Bogum? 

"Ayyy," I drawl, whacking her head. "You're wrong. There's one person here who isn't in love with him." I say into the bathroom, as I wait for her to be done, tapping my feet on the ground.

"You, Unni?! Why? Are you trying to act like you're too cool for him?" She replies from her cubicle.

I kick at the ground, staring at nothing. "No... It's just, isn't he too perfect?" I say, making sure I'm loud enough for her to hear, "How can someone keep up that smile for so long? Isn't it tiring?" 

As the words leave my mouth, I feel an eerie, foreboding presence approaching me. Lost in thought, I glance sideways, only to meet the cool gaze of (you guessed it,) Mr Park Bogum. He tilts his head slightly, and flicks his wet hands (towards me?), having just exited from the gents, right beside the ladies. Without a word, he walks past me.

For a whole minute, I stand as I am, shocked. When I finally collect myself, I splutter, as if he is actually within earshot, "Well, but hey, I don't know him very well. I'm sure he's actually super nice. No, he, he is definitely as nice as he is!" 

"Ayyy, Unni! I knew it, no one can resist Park Bogum~"

But of course, the only person who hears me is my friend.

My heart thumps crazily in my chest.

WHAT DID I JUST DO?! WHAT DO I DO NOW? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!

I suddenly feel giddy. This Mr Park Bogum is almost akin to a stranger. Sure, we were in the same club, but we've never talked. We knew of each other's existence, or rather, I knew of Mr Superstar's, and only until yesterday did I find out that he actually knew my name. 

What should I do? I start pacing.

Everything is going to be so awkward. What if he's really angry with me? He's a popular kid after all.

What if he kills me? What if he spreads rumours about me to the other popular kids he hangs around? The actors in the drama club? 

What if I have to quit the drama club?

Not that it mattered anyway, but well, that wouldn't be nice!

I want to scream. But instead, I just follow my friend who exits the toilet, absently nodding at whatever she says.

---

The next few days leading up to Thursday, a.k.a. Drama Club Activity Day, were a nervous frenzy. Every moment spent walking the hallways of school consisted of a desperate Look-left-look-right-look-left-again routine. That wasn't all. Any moment I lived my life normally-- any moment I got stressed over my exams, or I tried completing my homework, or I laughed with friends, I would abruptly be reminded of my embarrassing slip up in front of Mr. Park Bogum, and I would cringe, twisting into a human ball regardless of the setting.

Finally, D-day came. 

With bated breath, I pushed open the door of the classroom. As usual, only the Chairman and a few others had arrived, and they sat scattered at different corners of the classroom, some mingling, others ogling at their handphones chicly.

By now, the fear I had experienced the whole week had trained my eyes to spot Mr. Park Bogum from a mile away. The moment I opened the door, I heaved a sigh of relief. No Bogum spotted.

Hiding in my costume-cave gave me an added sense of security. Maybe today won't be as bad. Maybe he had forgotten about the whole thing already. Why would he pay attention to me anyway? I start to smile and even laugh. Everything will be okay!

A while later, Park Bogum arrived, on time. As per normal, he headed to his seat in the middle of the room. Maybe everything will really be okay! 

Activities ensue; today we are reading through the script for the first time. It's a comedic school skit. I mean, it's Teachers' Day after all, what could I have written? A typical teacher's day, a few inside jokes of teachers thrown in here and there, some students messing up and the teacher saving the day... yadda yadda yadda. 

Unfortunately, Park Bogum is playing the teacher. 

The actors read their lines, and everything goes smoothly, until one of them speaks up.

"Hey Jae Eun, why does the teacher have to scold me at this point?" An actor shouts, even though he could've stood up and walked a couple of steps over. Other actors who were in the midst of rehearsing their lines turn to look at us.

I walk over, despising the heat from glares on me. It's the part where the teacher scolds his character, and thereby dismisses him from the scene... and the whole play.

"Could you explain to me why? I don't get it." He looks up at me from his seat, his face blank, but I can detect the indignation in his voice. I scoff inwardly. He isn't asking me why the scene was structured in this way, he's asking me why he has to be cut off so early instead of given more lines.

"Ah, you don't get it? Hmmm," I pause, thinking of the right words to say. I start hesitantly, "The student did something wrong..." my face brightens, "That's why the teacher dismissed him!"

"Eh? But I still don't understand..." He mutters, narrowing his eyes at the script, as if he was concentrating very hard on how to portray his character.

More like, concentrating very hard on how to ask for more lines.

My goodness, he's just a supporting character.

I resist the urge of scowling at him and exclaiming how his character obviously had played his role as one of the trouble-makers, and had no more use after that scene. How to tell him this nicely?

"I find this quite hard to believe actually," he says, his hand gesturing carelessly towards the script in his hands. I'm too slow; he just grabbed the opportunity as I'm caught off-guard. I keep my eyes round and my head tilted. He continues, aloud, "A normal troublemaker wouldn't give up so easily. Based on my character's personality, I'm sure he would've talked back to the teacher a few more times!" 

The other actors murmur amongst themselves, as if they are discussing the script, but really, who knows if they're really just keeping track of our conversation? If I really allow his character to say more lines, all the other actors will suddenly start having "difficulty understanding their scripts" as well.

"Ehhh... You're right. I'm sure such a student would really dislike his teacher!" I say, nodding my head with a smile. A smile spreads on the actor's face as well. "Dislike to the extent that he would exit the class, right?" I say, my smile widening and my voice bright, as if I've just been bestowed the revelation of the year. 

"Rather than the teacher dismissing you in this scene, how about you storm out? Oh man!" I clap my hands in glee. "This is perfect! And you Actor-shi, are very good at acting rebellious! Thanks so much for pointing that out." I pat him on the shoulder, and reach forward to take his script so that I can edit his part for him.

He smiles faintly, "No problem at all."

---

I heave a sigh as I walk back to the classroom from my toilet break, enjoying the small bit of fatigue that semes to evaporate from my chest. Honestly, the first script readings are the worst for us writers, or rather, for me. For some reason when the members have questions about the script, they always turn to me instead of the remaining five writers who also contributed. 

But after today, our roles are pretty much done. The director of the play will take over, and all we have to do is sit back and relax. (Or don't come for practices at all.) 

It's no wonder why the Drama Club doesn't take us that seriously.

Absorbed in my thoughts, I hardly avoid knocking into an incoming student in time. "I'm sor--"

"What, do you mean it?" the student says, and I look up to see Mr Park Bogum. My eyes widen as I stare at him, a thousand and one thoughts bombarding my mind in that instance.

"I'm sorry?" I feign innocence.

"You're sorry? For?" He says, mimicking my tone and smiles, straightening his back as he stares at me straight down.

I feel fear, I feel like I'm going to cry at the spot, I feel like shouting. Well, maybe I should just get this off my chest once and for all.

"I'm really sorry," I bow and say, my voice steady. "I know you overheard me talking about you that day, and I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions about you. I'm sure you're a really nice guy just like everyone says... I, I was being extremely skeptical, as I usually am. I'm sorry." 

I bow again.

As I finish my speech, I'm so surprised with myself that I smile brightly at him. That wasn't so bad after all! I sound confident and cool! 

His face is calm, the small smile he always wears still hanging on the corners of his lips. A moment passes with me beaming at him, but he doesn't say a word.

"With that, I'll get going then. See you around..." I give a curt wave, and scurry away.

"Well, you aren't terribly wrong," he speaks up from behind me, and I resist the urge to continue walking away. Instead, I turn around and face him, raising my eyebrows in confusion. He continues, "Who wouldn't get tired of smiling all the time? I'm human too."

Why is he telling me this? Is he making fun of me? Is he being genuine now? I nod and smile at him.

"To be honest, they were being quite annoying at the dinner. The jokes weren't even funny," He says, the smile on his face falling, as his eyes grow cold. I gulp, and look at anywhere but him.

"But you aren't any better, either. You use your smile to get away with things too, don't you? Just like what happened back there," He says, and I can feel his stare boring down into my face. 

"I was wondering what kind of person would call my smiles pretentious, and to think you're no better." He draws a long sigh, and walks past me.

"What a disappointment," he says as he passes me, and pats me on my shoulder.

For a full second, I stand, frozen, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

Who on Earth is Park Bogum? I want to scream and cry at the humiliation boiling in my guts, but at the same time, I want to run away from the Drama Clubroom. Did he mean what he said? But why would he say this to me? So was I wrong about him or not?

Whatever just happened, Park Bogum is a dangerous person I don't want to be around.

Who does he think he is? Just because he's popular he thinks he can talk to people like this? I feel the humiliation churn with anger in my guts.

And to think I thought for a second that he was a really nice guy! Why did I even apologize to him?

I walk back to the clubroom in defiance; he doesn't scare me.

The usual chatters and noise greet me the moment I near the door. I swing it open, and head back to my seat, not looking around at all lest I make eye contact with people, or rather, Park Bogum.

Throughout the remaining hours, I busy myself with answering the actors' questions. 

At the end of today's session, I catch a glimpse of Park Bogum smiling and waving to everyone else.

It's okay, I assure myself. I won't have to talk to him again, just like how it's been for the past year.