Dongwoon is one year younger than Kikwang.

                But it never really feels like it.

                When they first meet, it’s only because their parents don’t want to leave either of them with their nannies so they are both stuffed into little, baby suits and dragged to the benefit concert that their fathers have to go to that night. Dongwoon doesn’t remember much because it’s hard to remember anything that happens when you’re four-years-old, but he remembers a little bit.

                He remembers clinging to his mother’s dress and being nudged forward by his father. He remembers huge, round eyes—the biggest, and deepest eyes he’s ever seen and he’ll ever see to this day. They are framed under glossy, chocolate hair and in the prettiest face he’s seen—for a moment, in his four-year-old mind, he thinks that this boy is still a baby that just happens to be able to stand.

                But then the baby talks and Dongwoon is just a little bit enchanted.

                They don’t really meet again until Dongwoon is eight.

                They meet because Dongwoon is moved to another school for second grade even though his parents are still living in the same house and Dongwoon is introduced to Kikwang because their families are still close friends and they interchange drivers in the rich and swanky method of carpooling.

                Kikwang is in third grade and the only times they see each other are passing by in the halls when they are led to art rooms and music rooms, and then for lunch and recess, but second graders never talk to third graders because what third grader wants to talk to a second grader?

                To Dongwoon, anyway, Kikwang is just that kid that is always at benefits and galas and balls that his parents make him go too and interact with, but Dongwoon always ends up being pulled away by Kim Kibum and Bang Cheolyong and Jung Jinwoon and Lee Jaejin. He likes them a lot, and they generally just all like each other a lot, but Dongwoon still wonders about Kikwang.

                It happens one day during recess when Dongwoon is debating with Cheolyong over the fact that Squirtle is clearly going to beat Charmander no matter which way someone looks at it because water can put out fire, but what’s fire going to do to water?

                A soccer ball rolls towards where they are sitting on the grass and it rolls over Dongwoon’s legs and into his lap. Kibum is the first one to crawl over Jinwoon and kneel next to Dongwoon, taking the ball into his hands. All of the balls—basketballs, soccer balls, kick balls, volleyballs—are always taken by the third graders since the second graders and third graders have lunch and recess together. And the occasional ball that does fall into a second grader’s hands is usually the one with no air pumped into it.

                “Wanna play?” Kibum says, looking at the ball as if playing is the last thing he would ever want to do in life.

                Dongwoon looks in the direction the ball came from. “I think they were using it,” he says and points to the group of third graders near the soccer goals. “Are we supposed to give it back?” he asks, peeking towards the recess monitors to see if they’ll whistle at them and tell them what to do.

                Kibum stares at the third graders for a moment and then meets eyes with Jinwoon. “We don’t have to,” he says finally and tosses the ball to Jaejin.

                “Oh,” Dongwoon says, shrugs, and turns back to Cheolyong.

                A few minutes pass and Cheolyong has now taken out his pack of Pokémon cards to demonstrate to Dongwoon how Charmander is better when Kikwang walks up slowly to them looking like he wants the ground to swallow him up. “Um,” he says, eyeing the ball that Jinwoon is now kicking back and forth to Kibum. “Can we have the ball back?”

                The ball stops at Kibum’s toe and he picks it up, and the way he walks up to Kikwang looks less like a second grader going to face a third grader and more like a sixth grader going to face a first grader. “But we never get the balls,” Kibum reasons, widening his eyes. “You guys always take them before we get outside.”

                Kikwang’s face falls and he turns back briefly to look at the other third graders—making it obvious that he must’ve lost an argument and was chosen to be the one to retrieve the ball. Dongwoon waits for Kikwang to call in back-up and possibly cause enough of a commotion to have the monitors come running, and the monitors most always give the victory to the third graders since they are all about learning-to-respect-your-elders.

                But Kikwang doesn’t really do any of this.

                The third grader just sort of looks somewhere between lost and confused and simply says, “Um—oh. Okay. Sorry.” His eyes fall to the ground, searching, and then he finds Dongwoon and smiles a little. “Hi, Dongwoonie,” he says, sounding slightly brighter and it makes Dongwoon’s chest hurt for some reason. “My driver’s picking us up today,” he reminds him even though Dongwoon always knows which days are whose.

                “I know,” he says and Kikwang just blinks those huge, dark eyes and laughs—when Kikwang laughs, the round eyes disappear into black crescents and Dongwoon wishes he looked like that when he laughs.

                When Dongwoon looks around, Kibum and Cheolyong are staring at him. Kibum exchanges glances with Jinwoon and Jaejin and then tosses the ball at Kikwang, who backs away—alarmed. “I don’t feel like playing,” Kibum says. “You can have it back.”

                Kikwang looks surprised. “Really?” He bends down and picks up the ball.

                “Yeah,” Kibum says, and sits down next to Jaejin on the bench.

                “Thanks,” Kikwang smiles, bows, and then runs back to the other third graders.

                “He acts like he’s four,” Cheolyong remarks. “And he bowed to us. Mom says you don’t have to bow to a dongsaeng and he’s our hyung, right?”

                “He looks like he’s four, too,” Kibum says. “Doesn’t he, Dongwoonie?”

                “A little bit,” Dongwoon says, shifting on the grass and staring hard into his lap, and willing himself not to turn his head even though he hears Kikwang’s laugh.

                They become friends after that because Dongwoon thinks soccer is cool and Kikwang plays soccer all the time. Kikwang likes to talk about soccer, and Dongwoon likes learning it and learning about it so it’s just to their parents’ delight that they start wanting to go over to each others’ houses more. Sometimes they play in Kikwang’s backyard and sometimes they play in Dongwoon’s backyard, only Dongwoon’s house is on a hill so the ball ends up rolling down to the pool. Meaning they play more often at Kikwang’s house where the pool is before the field.

                The first time it happens, it’s when Kikwang is in fifth grade and Dongwoon is in fourth. He doesn’t know exactly how it happens because he’s not in Kikwang’s grade, let alone the other boy’s class. All he knows is that Kikwang is not playing soccer with the other fifth graders at recess—he’s sitting alone on one of the empty lunch tables, staring at his hands.

                Dongwoon probably would have continued to talk to Jinwoon about how Mario is infinitely better than Luigi if Kibum hadn’t slapped Dongwoon’s head with his grammar workbook. “Go and talk to him,” he orders, pointing a finger towards Kikwang.

                Dongwoon blinks up at Kibum blankly. “Why?”

                Kibum makes an impatient noise and pushes Dongwoon off of the bench. “Go.”

                Dongwoon stumbles to his feet and still has no idea why he has to talk to Kikwang and what he’s supposed to say because he doesn’t even understand what’s wrong, let alone why he has to be the one who finds out what’s wrong. He walks over to the older boy apprehensively and slides into the seat across from Kikwang.

                “Hi,” he says.

                Kikwang looks up and smiles sadly. “Hi.”

                “What’s wrong?” Dongwoon asks.

                Kikwang looks down at his hands again. “I told a girl I liked her.”

                “In your class?”

                “Yeah.”

                Dongwoon looks down at his own hands too because for some reason talking about this is making his face heat up and he doesn’t want to be looking at Kikwang’s face any more. “Um—does she not like you back?”

                “No.” And Kikwang sighs. “She told me she already likes someone else.”

                “Oh.” Dongwoon pauses. “Wait—who?”

                “Jonghyunnie,” comes the quiet reply.

                “Oh,” Dongwoon repeats because he doesn’t really know what else he’s supposed to say. He looks up, now, and sees that Kikwang has also looked up, and the older boy’s expression isn’t as sad as it was a few seconds ago.

                Kikwang leans forward and says in a mock-whisper, “Dongwoonie,” he says in that faux-whisper, “do you like anyone?”

                “Hyung,” Dongwoon laughs.

                Kikwang falls into laughter, too—eyes vanishing, teeth showing, face brightening, the entire packaged deal that Dongwoon always loves to see. But then Kikwang suddenly stops laughing and puts on a playfully scowling face, pointing his finger right towards Dongwoon’s nose. “If you ever like anyone,” he says, teasingly stern, “you have to tell me first—‘kay, Dongwoon-ah?”

                “No,” Dongwoon laughs. “I’m going to tell Kibummie first.”

                “Dongwoonie,” Kikwang whines, grinning and takes the younger boy’s arm.

                Dongwoon just continues to laugh because he knows that even though the ’91 line—as the teachers have started referring to them as because they are always with each other—are his closest friends, Kikwang is something different and although he doesn’t quite know what that is yet, he knows that Kikwang will be the first person he tells anything to.

                When Kikwang moves up to the upper part of the school—where the seventh and eighth graders are kept—he and Dongwoon are separated for most of the year. The upper school is a few miles farther from the lower school even though they are still part of the same school, so they no longer carpool and Dongwoon doesn’t even get to see glimpses at him at the social gatherings because at the age they are now, their parents don’t really bother to drag them out.

                He still talks to Kikwang sometimes—they call and email each other now that they are allowed to use computers and cell phones. But Kikwang’s studies are getting more serious and he has more homework so they don’t hang out at each other’s houses as often any more. Kikwang is also old enough to have his own driver, meaning he’s usually out and about with the friends from his grade.

                Dongwoon misses him, but he doesn’t tell anyone—he doesn’t tell his parents, he doesn’t tell Kibum or Cheolyong or Jinwoon or Jaejin because he feels like it’s just something between him and Kikwang. He knows that his parents have always thought that he likes hanging out with Kikwang because of the age difference—because all boys should have a favorite hyung. The rest of the ’91 line think that way, too, but to be honest, that’s really not how Dongwoon thinks about it.

                Kikwang has never really felt like a hyung to Dongwoon.

                In all honesty, Dongwoon always has sort of felt like the hyung.

                Kikwang is bright.

                Kikwang smiles a lot. He laughs a lot. He teases a lot. He likes to be teased. He’s spontaneous. He loves to run, loves to play, loves to exercise. He reacts wholly and explosively to everything Dongwoon does and at the same time, when Dongwoon is serious, Kikwang is serious, too. And even though Kikwang acts airheaded—acts with wide, childlike eyes—Dongwoon knows that the older boy is witty, is clever, and sometimes sends Dongwoon reeling with his remarks.

                Kikwang has huge, dark eyes—deep with rows of thick eyelashes framing them. He has full lips that stretch and show white, white teeth when he smiles, when he laughs. He likes to cling to Dongwoon’s waist, full-blown hugs and embraces when they hang out, when they are doubled over laughing and unable to breathe.

                Kikwang is bright, but he’s timid and shy.

                It seems odd whenever Kikwang is timid and shy in front of the ’91 line because Dongwoon is too used to Kikwang laughing, open-mouthed and loudly—too used to Kikwang bursting out spontaneously with exclamations that have absolutely no meaning at all, too used to Kikwang zooming around the room in ways that make Dongwoon’s eyes spin together.

                Kikwang is beautiful and Dongwoon has loved him ever since he saw the standing baby with enormous, dark brown eyes whose voice was so soft that his father had to reintroduce him to the four-year-old Dongwoon.

                Dongwoon has always loved him so he’s never understood why Jang Hyunseung couldn’t.

                Their families decide to vacation together at Dongwoon’s family’s beach villa. So Dongwoon is able to properly see Kikwang for the first time since the end of fifth grade for Dongwoon, before Kikwang went to the upper school. They decide to take a few cars with them—one for Dongwoon and Kikwang’s parents, one for Dongwoon and Kikwang, and one for their housekeepers and butlers.

                Dongwoon is waiting next to the driver he and Kikwang are going to share. He’s just helped the driver load the rest of his bags into the trunk and is just waiting outside the Lee house when Kikwang comes out—or rather, when the boy who is supposed to be Lee Kikwang comes out and nearly gives Dongwoon a small seizure.

                Kikwang has grown—not noticeably much, though, as they are still the same height and he’s grown about as much as Dongwoon would have expected him to. It isn’t his height that makes Dongwoon stare. It’s his face and his body—much of the baby fat is gone, and while Kikwang still looks childlike, the thinning of his face makes his eyes appear darker, makes them shine with more luster. His hair is different—it’s dyed now, like Dongwoon knows a lot of the upper school students do, a dark brown, just a few shades lighter than his original hair color, and there’s something interesting with his bangs that he’s done—they fall asymmetrically over his forehead, with organized tufts sticking out here and there. His shoulders are broader and his arms are fitter and his clothes seem to fall a little better on him.

                All Dongwoon can think about is how different and wonderful he looks. That’s all he can think about, simply standing still where he is. However, Kikwang has other ideas—the older boy throws himself at Dongwoon, the familiar arms around the waist and head buried into the younger boy’s shoulder. Kikwang emerges with dark crescents and a wide smile and Dongwoon forgets how to breathe—he forgets how to breathe, but he still remembers how to grin back.

                “Hyung,” he says breathlessly.

                “Hi-yeom,” Kikwang sings, sticking his tongue out and laughing. He buries his face in Dongwoon’s shoulder again. “Missed you, Son Dongwoon.”

                “Yeah,” he replies, finding it absolutely impossible to wipe the stupid grin on his face, “you too.”

                It’s a few weeks into summer vacation that Kikwang tells Dongwoon.

                They are sitting on the deck that leads into the open suite they are sharing with each other. Dinner has just finished and their parents are out and about together, drinking and talking most likely. The entire day has been spent on the beach—swimming and playing and trying out soccer on the sand.

                The breeze is salty and they can see the rising tide from where they sit, overlooking the ocean. There’s little space between them and Dongwoon found out after Kikwang came out of the shower that the older boy wears contacts now, and right before bed, he wears glasses—huge, square spectacles that make Dongwoon feel like the hyung again when he sees Kikwang wear them.

                Kikwang says he knows they look terrible, and Dongwoon makes fun of him.

                Really, though, Dongwoon thinks they look wonderful.

                They sit there, and Kikwang nudges Dongwoon with his elbow.

                “What?” Dongwoon says.

                “I like someone,” Kikwang answers and his voice is undecipherable.

                Dongwoon waits.

                “It’s a boy.”

                Dongwoon turns his head and stares at Kikwang’s profile—the older boy is looking determinedly straight out to sea. “Jang Hyunseung,” Kikwang continues, and then blinks down into his lap. “He’s in the grade above me—he went to elementary school somewhere else, so he’s new in this area.”

                He doesn’t know why—can’t even begin to fathom the reasons—but this piece of news hurts. It doesn’t hurt a lot—doesn’t sting like a fresh wound. It’s a different kind of pain—like the dull ache Dongwoon gets after a hard game of soccer, or just overexerting himself playing outside—it’s a warning ache, that he needs to rest. And the ache in his chest now, this similar pain, is warning him—he just can’t figure out what it’s trying to tell him.

                “Does he,” Dongwoon says slowly, thinking as he goes, “does he like you back?”

                And suddenly, Kikwang laughs, except his eyes aren’t vanishing—they aren’t turning to dark crescents, and his full lips aren’t spreading, and his teeth aren’t really showing. It’s a terrible laugh and Dongwoon never wants to hear it again. “No,” Kikwang says, smiling a terrible smile that matches the laugh. He stares into his lap, stares at his wringing hands. “No, he doesn’t. We’re friends.”

                Dongwoon looks out at the ocean. “Oh.” He reaches out blindly and feels around until he can wrap his hand over Kikwang’s. “Sorry.”

                Kikwang responds by holding his hand and smiling a smile that isn’t so terrible—just terribly sad. “Why’re you sorry?” he laughs softly. “I’m okay. He’s my friend—so it’s okay.” He shrugs a bit towards the sea and says, “Don’t you think it’s good to be like that, Dongwoon-ah? If you can love someone enough to not care if they love you back and just be friends with them?”

                “You love Jang Hyunseung?” Dongwoon asks, and the pain intensifies.

                “Probably not,” Kikwang wrinkles his nose and pushes up his glasses. “I just like him a lot right now so I’m kind of sad.” He nudges Dongwoon. “But you’d better not worry about me—you’re going to get wrinkles in your face and then people will start thinking you’re my dad.”

                Dongwoon yanks his hand away and shoves Kikwang into the railing. “Shut up,” he says. “I don’t look old—you look like you’re four.”

                Kikwang laughs, leaning back on his palms. “Thanks, Dongwoonie—because I know a lot of four-year-olds who are as hot as I am.”

                Dongwoon shoves him again.

                Dongwoon believed Kikwang about Hyunseung—he thought it would fade. Kikwang believed himself about Hyunseung—he thought it would fade, too. Dongwoon goes into seventh grade—goes into the upper school thinking that Kikwang has gotten over his crush on Hyunseung, thinking that it was just a crush to begin with. He goes thinking that it’s the same sort of crush Dongwoon had on Kibum, that Kibum had on Mir, that Jinwoon had on Jaejin, the same sort of crush everyone has many of times when they are confused between affections for friends.

                But then Dongwoon meets Hyunseung, just in passing somewhere before school starts because Hyunseung has graduated and is going back to his hometown for high school, and sees Kikwang interact with Hyunseung and it doesn’t take Kibum to tell him that Kikwang doesn’t just like Hyunseung.

                Kikwang is in love.

                Dongwoon’s bones ache at night—they are sore in the morning, and after a few months of this aching and soreness, he finds himself as tall as his father, taller than his mother, taller than Kibum, as tall as Jinwoon. He finds himself taller than Kikwang the next time he sees him up close. It makes Kikwang laugh—the older boy pretends to jump up to ruffle Dongwoon’s hair. He hugs Dongwoon, congratulates him on something that was completely nature’s doing and has no relevance to Dongwoon at all. He smiles and teases Dongwoon until he gets a text from Hyunseung, and then Kikwang is gone—he’s still there in body, but his mind is nowhere near Dongwoon.

                Hyunseung doesn’t love Kikwang back.

                Hyunseung is enamored with his new school, and with a boy older than him at his new school. Kikwang tells Dongwoon that he’s met this boy—Hyunseung has invited him out, and Kikwang has met this boy and Kikwang says that this boy is worlds out of everything—that Kikwang will never be able to compare.

                Dongwoon finds that hard to believe—finds it hard to believe that anyone could ever be better than Kikwang. But he doesn’t say anything.

                He thinks that maybe if Hyunseung loves Kikwang back, it wouldn’t hurt Dongwoon so much.  

                Dongwoon knows that Kikwang loves Hyunseung, but he supposes that Kikwang himself probably didn’t know it. It’s easier to realize something that’s not about yourself because you can see it from a bird’s eye view. And so, it’s late at night, past when Dongwoon is supposed to be asleep except he isn’t because he’s finishing homework after procrastinating all day by talking to Jinwoon about a video game.

                It’s late at night when he almost has a heart attack because he sees someone in front of his balcony window. His balcony is terribly hard to climb up from, even though it’s possible and not all that dangerous. He realizes it’s Kikwang and Kikwang has come up through Dongwoon’s balcony many times before during their childhood. Dongwoon opens the window and Kikwang walks inside in his pajamas.

                He’s wearing his large, square glasses and a beanie and is staring at his feet.

                “Hyung?” Dongwoon begins cautiously, pencil in one hand and calculator in the other. His desk lamp is on and his bed is messy.

                Kikwang doesn’t look up at him as he says, “Dongwoon-ah,” in a whisper. “Dongwoon-ah, I don’t want to love him.”

                Dongwoon knows exactly what this is about but he doesn’t have any idea what to do about it. The first thing he decides to do is put down his pencil and calculator and turn his desk lamp off since he has a feeling he’s not going to be finishing his homework tonight. “Kikwangie-hyung,” he says slowly, and leads Kikwang by the wrist, pulling him onto Dongwoon’s bed. Kikwang climbs obediently onto it and Dongwoon gets on it after him.

                “I don’t want to love him, Dongwoonie,” Kikwang says, still not looking at Dongwoon’s face. “Tell me how to stop.”

                Dongwoon is scared at the tone of Kikwang’s voice. “I can’t, hyung,” he says and wishes that he could—wishes that he could tell Kikwang how to stop loving Hyunseung and start loving someone else.

                “He got kicked out of that school,” Kikwang says quietly. “The special one that he worked so hard to get into. He’s going to the high school here now.”

                Dongwoon doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react to this—he doesn’t know whether he’s supposed to tell Kikwang that that’s a good thing because then Kikwang can look forward to seeing him once he graduates himself, or if that’s a sad thing because Hyunseung must be hurting from not being able to stay in his dream school. He has no idea how he’s supposed to react so he doesn’t say anything at all.

                “Do you remember Yong Junhyung?” Kikwang asks in that tiny voice. “In the year above me?”

                Dongwoon nods.

                “Hyunseung-hyung likes him.” The older boy folds his hands in his lap and continues to bore holes into Dongwoon’s sheets. “He told me today.” Kikwang’s voice shakes a bit as he says then, “They were always friends in eighth grade—so, you know, it makes sense.”

                No—no it doesn’t.

                Dongwoon thinks that this doesn’t make sense at all—it doesn’t make sense to him in any shape or form that Hyunseung has Lee Kikwang by his side for the past two years and doesn’t love him back. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to love Kikwang back, because for Dongwoon, loving Kikwang is as easy as breathing. Dongwoon has always loved Kikwang and he doesn’t understand why no one else will. He doesn’t understand why Hyunseung doesn’t love Kikwang because for Dongwoon, loving Kikwang has always been the most obvious thing in the world.

                “Yong Junhyung,” Dongwoon says carefully, “does he like Hyunseung-hyung back?”

                For the first time that night, Kikwang looks up at Dongwoon, a smile on his face and a watery film over his eyes. “Yeah, Dongwoonie,” Kikwang says and his voice is trembling so much that Dongwoon feels like running over to Jang Hyunseung’s house and punching him. “He does. He likes him back.”

                Dongwoon wishes he could tell Kikwang everything Hyunseung never can. He wishes he could tell Kikwang that loving Hyunseung is useless. He wishes he could tell Kikwang that if Hyunseung makes Kikwang cry—makes the older boy stay up until one in the morning like this, makes the older boy have to climb a ing ladder into someone else’s house because he can’t sleep, makes Kikwang bury his face into Dongwoon’s shoulder and soak the younger boy’s shirt with tears—then Hyunseung clearly doesn’t deserve Lee Kikwang.

                He wishes he could say all of this but that’s not what Kikwang would want.

                After all, Kikwang has told Dongwoon that he believes in friendship over love—he’s told Dongwoon himself that one summer at the beach that he thinks loving someone enough to put what they want over what you want is something beautiful. And if that’s what Kikwang wants, then that’s what Dongwoon will do for him.

                He just wishes it wouldn’t hurt so much.

                By the time Dongwoon gets to high school, things are not well on the home front. Junhyung and Hyunseung have dated and have broken up. Hyunseung is not speaking to Junhyung and Junhyung refuses to believe he’s done anything wrong. Kikwang is the maknae of the soccer team and is caught between the two. He still loves Hyunseung, and that makes it difficult. Doojoon sides with Hyunseung and Yoseob sides with Junhyung and the fact that Kikwang sides with Hyunseung for the majority of the time makes the soccer team a whole chaotic mess when Dongwoon joins.

                Dongwoon meets Doojoon and Yoseob and when he meets them Yoseob is sitting on Doojoon’s lap and Doojoon is trying to pretend like he doesn’t care so from then on Dongwoon can never think of it as just Doojoon, and then just Yoseob. It’s always Doojoon and Yoseob and Dongwoon thinks it’s wonderful.

                He meets Junhyung and can’t really hold anything against him even though this older boy is part of the reason why Kikwang’s eyes are red some mornings. Junhyung is the saner of the soccer team, and spends most of the time with his eyes wide and his mouth open because of Doojoon and Yoseob’s antics, even though Junhyung will be pulled into them halfway through. He likes to scold Dongwoon for normally no reason at all and Dongwoon loves it. He’s bumbles a little bit and is weird just like Hyunseung and is probably one of the best hyungs Dongwoon has ever had.

                Dongwoon gets to know Hyunseung better and can’t find it in himself to be angry at him at all for making Kikwang fall in love with him. Hyunseung is an easy person to fall in love with—in many regards, he’s similar to Kikwang. Jang Hyunseung is random and spontaneous and bright. The world could implode upon itself and Hyunseung will most likely not care and somehow simultaneously find a way to be the only human to survive. He makes the rest of the soccer team laugh until they think they’re going to get stomach ulcers, but he himself will spend the entirety of the time looking at them blankly because there’s isn’t photosynthesis the act of joining two or more photographs into a single entity?

                Dongwoon knows that Hyunseung and Junhyung are going to work out whatever is between them—they’ll work it out because this is their last year here, and he knows before this year ends, they’ll be Hyunseung and Junhyung just like Doojoon and Yoseob are. They’ll be together and there won’t be any more room for Kikwang, once they graduate hand in hand.

                Kikwang hasn’t shown any indication of being any less in love with Hyunseung than before and Dongwoon is starting to think he never will be—and in the occasion that he will fall out of love, he’ll probably fall in love with someone else who will love him back, and then it’s Dongwoon who’ll there’ll be no room left for.

                Dongwoon has tried time and time again to advise Kikwang to fall out of love with Hyunseung.

                Maybe it’s time Dongwoon do the same with Kikwang.