Ring Ding Dong

For much of Kim Kibum’s life, hearing the name Kim Jonghyun brings him nothing but lots and lots of headaches.

                It’s always been easy for Kibum to make friends. His parents have never had to worry about him being lonely and sad in preschool, or shy and unconfident in kindergarten. Kibum is never without friends because he thinks it’s terribly easy to make friends. He doesn’t know why, but he thinks that maybe Kim Kibum is just a person who is too easy to love and so everyone wants to be his friend.

                In third grade, Kibum has a girl friend named Jung Yongjoo. He thinks that Yongjoo is one of the prettiest girls in his class because he probably wouldn’t want her as a friend if she wasn’t. Yongjoo always has her black hair curled into two pigtails that swing from the tops of her head—she has pink and green ribbons tied to them and matching ribbons on her uniform skirt.

                Cheolyong thinks she’s pretty. Jinwoon thinks she’s pretty. Jaejin thinks she’s pretty. Dongwoon doesn’t think she’s that pretty, but Kibum thinks that’s probably because Dongwoon thinks Lee Kikwang from the fourth grade is the prettiest.

Even though Kikwang is a boy.

                Except whenever they try to bring it up, Dongwoon turns red and turns away and the teacher has to tell them that it’s not nice to tease each other because someone might end up crying.

                Yongjoo smiles a lot and likes the color red. She says she likes red because it’s the color of hearts and she loves coloring in hearts. She tells Kibum that she doesn’t like to draw them because they always end up lopsided. So Kibum draws the hearts for her and she colors them in with her favorite red crayon.

                For one entire week of school, Yongjoo asks Kibum to draw hearts for her every day. He asks her and asks her why she wants hearts every day suddenly when she usually only wants one or two per week. She just smiles and doesn’t tell him anything and he thinks that even before this week, she’s been smiling a lot more than usual—and for Yongjoo, usual is already a lot.

                It’s not until next Monday that she finally tells him why she’s been coloring and cutting so many hearts during snack time and lunch time and recess.

                “I’m giving them to Jonghyun-oppa,” she says excitedly. “He’s the one in the fourth grade.”

                Kibum doesn’t particularly care about the ones in the year above them except for Lee Kikwang because teasing Dongwoon is so much fun. He does, however, know what most of them look like, and unfortunately, he also knows what Kim Jonghyun looks like. And with the fourth grader’s face in his mind, he scrunches up his nose. “Wait—why?”

                Yongjoo looks confused. “Why not?”

                “He’s,” Kibum pauses, thinking of how to phrase this delicately. “He’s—he’s kind of ugly, Yongjoo-ah.”

                She looks crestfallen. “No, he’s not!” she insists, clutching today’s colored and cut out heart to her chest. “He’s really, really, really funny and nice and cute. And he says my hearts are pretty like me,” she adds in a small voice, her ears turning red just like Dongwoon’s when Lee Kikwang comes up.

                It’s not that Kibum doesn’t think Yongjoo is pretty because she definitely is—it’s more than he can’t believe Kim Jonghyun, whoever he is, would say that to a girl because that’s just kind of vomit-worthy. Like Cheolyong’s attempt at decorating cupcakes when they went on a field trip to a pastry shop last week.

                Kibum tilts his head. “So—he likes you?”

                Her face brightens. “Yup—he’s my boyfriend now. I’m going to give this heart to him after school today.”

                “You’ve been giving him all of my hearts?” Kibum says, wrinkling his nose. “Why would you give my hearts to an ugly person?”

                “Kibummie-ah,” she whines. “He’s not ugly—and he’s really, really funny and nice.”

                He’s still fairly unimpressed for the most part but since he was only making hearts because Yongjoo wanted them and Yongjoo seems to like Kim Jonghyun this much that it should all be okay. “If you think he’s funny and nice, I guess that’s good,” he says unsurely, pouting. “But make your own hearts for Jonghyun and stop giving mine.”

                Yongjoo laughs. “Okay.”

                It’s not even a week later when Yongjoo comes to Kibum with her eyes a little bit red and her steps a little bit heavy.

                They sit together on a bench while the rest of their grade and the fourth grade spend recess on and around the playground. Yongjoo was talking to Jonghyun only minutes ago before she came to Kibum with sad eyes. They sit and watch the other kids play and Kibum sees Kim Jonghyun sitting on top of the jungle gym like he’s king of the hill. Lee Kikwang is sitting at the foot of the jungle gym, a few bars below Jonghyun, and Kibum doesn’t understand why someone as nice and gentle as Kikwang would be friends with Kim Jonghyun.

                But then again, Lee Hongki is funny and bold and he’s hanging out with Jonghyun. Park Sanghyun who’s bright and open hangs out with Jonghyun. Kibum doesn’t think any of this makes sense because he knows all of the other boys through Cheolyong, and Jaejin, and Dongwoon, and they are all friendly and fun. Jonghyun, however, Kibum has never heard of and the more he hears about him the more he doesn’t like.

                “He says that he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend anymore,” Yongjoo says quietly, her little white hands pressing into her uniform skirt.

                Kibum blinks at her, alarmed. “Why?”

                “He says that I’m really pretty,” she explains sadly, “but there’s someone in his grade who he thinks is prettier and she’s his new girlfriend now.”

                Kibum stares—frowns. “No one’s prettier than you,” he says incredulously. “Who’s the other girl?”

                She continues to look down at her lap. “Oh—um—I don’t know her name. He just pointed at her and she’s really pretty, Kibummie.”

                “So he gave you all your hearts back?” Kibum asks then because he should probably make those paper hearts into spitballs and fire them at the back of Jonghyun’s clearly misguided and delusional head.

                Yongjoo shakes her head. “I don’t want them back,” she says, finally looking up at him and Kibum is relieved to see that she isn’t crying. She just looks terribly sad. “It’s mean if I ask for them back. And he’s still really nice to me—it’s not his fault that there’s a girl who’s prettier than me.”

                “He’s stupid—no one is prettier than you,” Kibum scoffs and his eyes instantly start scanning the jungle gym for ways to knock Jonghyun off.

                Yongjoo seems to follow his gaze, and says quickly, “Kibummie, don’t do anything to him okay? Jonghyun-oppa is really nice—you just have to be friends with him first.”

                “No,” Kibum says. “He’s mean. You shouldn’t tell a girl that someone else is prettier than they are. That’s mean.”

                “It’s okay,” Yongjoo insists in a small voice. “He says he’s still my friend so it’s okay. Please don’t do anything to him, Kibum-ah. That’s not nice either.”

                “Fine,” Kibum says unhappily.

                He knows Yongjoo wouldn’t approve, but when they are lining up to go back inside, he tells Jinwoon to push his lunchbox in front of Jonghyun’s feet, and it makes Kibum feel a little bit better when the fourth grader falls on his face and is sent to the nurse.

                In fifth grade, Kibum meets a girl named Choi Heejin. She’s Yongjoo’s new neighbor and Yongjoo is the one who introduces her to Kibum when Heejin comes to their school. Heejin is pretty like Yongjoo, with hair that goes down almost to her waist. She ties it up in high ponytails with bows and the dark strands shine in the sun and sway back and forth when she walks. Heejin is paler than Yongjoo and always has tints of red in her cheeks. Yongjoo blushes in her ears but Heejin blushes in her face and Kibum thinks it’s cute.

                It’s a few weeks into second quarter when Heejin pulls Kibum aside during Library, behind the shelves that hold the encyclopedias, and says she has something important to tell him and he has to promise not to tell anyone else.

                From the way Heejin is turning bright, apple red, Kibum guesses that she probably likes someone and wants Kibum to play fiddler on the roof—he hopes it’s Cheolyong, or Jinwoon, or Jaejin because that way he won’t have to do a lot of work because they are all his friends and girl-desperate.

                “I like Jonghyun-oppa,” she whispers.

                Kibum is starting to think that girls are stupid, even though Yongjoo got a ninety-five on yesterday’s science test while he only got an eighty-nine.

                “But he’s ugly,” he says, repeating the same motions as two years ago, only this time with more conviction.

                Heejin looks shocked. “Kibum-ah,” she says, her tone rising. “He’s really, really cute. And he’s so much fun to hang out with.” She clears awkwardly then, and smoothes down her ponytail. “He—um—he told me that he likes how long my hair is. He says he thinks I’m really pretty.”

                Kibum wants to slap his forehead, but he thinks that that might be counterproductive and a giveaway to how much he hates this boy. He kind of wants to slap Heejin’s forehead too, but that might also be a giveaway and he probably shouldn’t hit a girl. So instead he just sighs and shrugs. “Okay—why’d you tell me? Is he your boyfriend now?”

                Heejin smiles brightly. “Yeah—he asked me out at recess today.

                “Oh,” Kibum says, trying to put enthusiasm into his voice and giving up because there’s no point. “Congrats.”

                “Thanks,” she says and then they hug and Kibum goes off as soon as he can to check out the book he has to get on sunflowers for his science project. He doesn’t think that staying around girls too much will do any good for him if they all seem to have been infected with whatever makes them think Kim Jonghyun is attractive.

                It’s really not much of a surprise and more of an I-told-you-so moment for Kibum when Yongjoo approaches him with a tearful Heejin in her arms during snack time because of something Jonghyun probably did.

                “What,” Kibum says, gauging the situation while the rest of the ’91 line scatters at the scent of female tears like the cowardly XY chromosomes they are, “did he break up with you or something?”

                “Kind of,” Yongjoo says, patting Heejin’s back and casting wary glances towards the teacher’s desk. “He told her that he likes someone else more than he likes her. And she saw him give the other girl a bracelet at recess yesterday.”

                “So he cheated on you,” Kibum clarifies flatly.

                “He didn’t cheat on me,” Heejin says thickly, head still leaning on Minju’s shoulder. “He just likes someone else. It’s not his fault.”

                Girls are stupid. Definitely.

                “That’s called cheating, Heejinnie,” Kibum says and gives Yongjoo a significant look because how dare Yongjoo ever introduce this girl to Kibum in the first place. Granted, Kibum knows that Yongjoo was only trying to be a good neighbor, but Kibum is not Heejin’s neighbor and after trying to be friends with her for the better portion of the year, Heejin is definitely not Kibum’s friend either.

                Heejin is pretty and sweet, but there’s a difference between her and Yongjoo and that’s the fact that Yongjoo never shed tears over Kim Jonghyun. Most boys think girls cry easily, but Kibum knows that’s not true. Girls may cry easier than boys, but what they cry easily over depends on the girl. And in Kibum’s eyes, girls who cry easily over boys aren’t worth much in the face of any boy.

                Especially when those tears are shed over Kim Jonghyun because who does that?

                He’s really not even attractive.

                Yongjoo and Heejin are the lucky ones. They are the ones who Kim Jonghyun likes back. Kibum has many female friends before, in between, and after Yongjoo and Heejin’s chances with Jonghyun who like him, but either they never tell him or they tell him and get rejected. And even after they get rejected or while they suffer through unrequited love, they never ever seem to blame Kim Jonghyun. Kibum doesn’t really understand how any of this functions because none of it makes even the remotest sense.

                He wants to discuss it with the ’91 line except that if it boggles Kim Kibum’s mind, it will probably cause infinite, irreparable, mental damage to the mere XY chromosomes that make up the ’91 line.

                And most of them are already infinitely, irreparably, mentally damaged as it is. Kibum doesn’t want to make it worse.

                He doesn’t talk to Heejin anymore, but he talks to Yongjoo still because he likes her. She gets prettier every year and it’s fun to bring her around to the ’91 line, with the exception of Dongwoon, because they always make cow-eyes at her and tell Kibum how much of a waste it is that he’s just friends with the prettiest classmate they have.

                Sometimes Kibum still gets curious about how stupid a girl has to be to cry over Kim Jonghyun because Kibum still honestly cannot see the attraction. He’s seen Jonghyun around the school, swaggering with that face he always makes when he thinks he’s looking particularly hot today.

                They are at the end of sixth grade and sitting together waiting for their rides at the gates when he decides to ask her about falling in love with Jonghyun.

                “I don’t know,” Yongjoo says, grinning. “It’s just—it just sort of happens. Like, you know how there are some people who everyone is a little in love with?”

                “You mean like me,” Kibum says with a straight face and Yongjoo laughs.

                “Exactly like you, Kibummie,” she replies, matching his deadpan expression before breaking into a smile again. Then she shrugs. “But yeah—I really don’t know how else to explain it. It’s just,” she pauses, taps her finger playfully against her cheek. “Mom always used to tell me how when I find the right guy, I’ll know. Like—fireworks when you kiss, bells in your head? I guess when I saw Jonghyun, when a lot of girls see Jonghyun-oppa, he makes those bells go off.”

                Kibum isn’t convinced. “If you’re hearing bells that don’t exist,” he begins, “then that means it’s time to start looking for a good psychiatrist.”

                Yongjoo slaps his shoulder and puffs out her cheeks. “No,” she admonishes, “it means you’re in love. I’m not saying that I loved Jonghyun-oppa because I was like, two—“

                “—you were eight—“

                “—but you don’t have to be head over heels, Romeo-and-Juliet in love with someone to hear those bells. Even if you like someone, the bells are supposed to go off because you’re attracted to them,” she finishes and smiles with a playfully scholarly air.

                Kibum laughs. “So—wait—the bells are supposed to go off when you want to someone?”

                “Wow,” Yongjoo says, rolling her eyes. “As gay as you are, you’re still such a boy.”

                “That’s kind of the idea,” Kibum says dryly. “Because, you know, if I was a girl, then I’d be straight.”

                She pushes him. “Shut up, Kim Kibum.”

                Yongjoo is sent abroad to America when sixth grade ends. She tells Kibum that it’s just for seventh and eighth grade and then she’ll be back for high school. He tells her that he’s not going to miss her at all because he only misses pretty girls. She laughs and tells him that she won’t get him a single souvenir.

                He tells her that if she doesn’t buy him at least one pair of shoes, he’ll never speak to her again.

                She smiles and throws the socks she’s packing at him.

                Getting invited to parties isn’t a matter of being friends with a lot of people. It’s not even a matter of knowing a lot of people. For the most part, it’s being able to make friends with people who know a lot of other people who know a lot more other people. And, as he’s said before, Kibum makes friends easily. His main source of social events stems from the ’91 line because as far as Kibum knows with his circle of friends, 1991 gave birth to such influential people.

                And surprisingly enough, Cheolyong—or Mir, because all of them have already forgotten when they started calling him this, but it just rolls off their tongues nowadays—is one of the most influential and knowledgeable when it comes to people who know people who know people. Mir is the one that gets Kibum into high school parties because he’s started going to meets at the high school and has met a track sunbae by the name of Lee Joon.

                Only Kibum knows him better by Retard, but Joon works too.

                The first time Kibum met Joon, it was during spring break when he decided to visit Mir at spring track camp and the first thing he thinks about is how ridiculously attractive Joon is.

                But then the first year opens his mouth and then everything is ruined.

                Not to say that Joon isn’t intelligent, because he is. He’s just dumb as at the same time. It’s kind of hot and kind of infuriating at the same time. Kibum just prays for the sanity of whoever’s going to end up with Joon romantically in the future.

                However, Joon is also friendly and bright and hyperactive and Kibum likes him. Joon likes Kibum back because Joon seems to like everything that breathes and a lot of things that don’t, too.

                He also finds out, to his great displeasure, that Joon is another wonderful, hilarious person who is somehow friends with the terrible, unattractive Kim Jonghyun.

                “What the hell is he doing here?” Kibum asks Mir out of the side of his mouth. They are waiting in the shade of the stands next to the track, waiting for Mir’s practice that’s part of his day camp to begin. They—okay, well, Kibum—was watching Joon stretch out his legs and uncovered arms in the warm spring sun. He was watching quite contently until Kim Jonghyun decides to show up from blasted nowhere, slaps Joon’s shoulder, and start talking to the high school student.

                “You didn’t know they’re friends?” Mir says, surprised. “Joonie-hyung and Jonghyun-shii are like Dongwoonie and Kikwang-hyung. Their families are friends and they’re childhood friends.”

                Kibum makes a sound at the back of his throat. “Shame,” he says coolly.

                “We should go talk to them,” Mir says when they see Joon waving both arms at them, motioning them over to the field.

                “We could ignore them,” Kibum suggests.

                Mir shoots him a look.

                “Or we could go talk to them,” Kibum concedes.

                They walk over and Kibum thinks it’s such a waste that Kim Jonghyun has to come and ruin his day. Kibum is wearing a loose t-shirt tucked into low riding belted cargo shorts. He has made sure his hair isn’t going to melt into his face from the spring sun—he’s made sure his hair wouldn’t move an inch from its slightly-into-his-eyes-tousled perfection even if a tornado hit just then. He has sunglasses clipped onto the collar of his shirt, and came with extra ammo to flirt with Lee Joon-sunbaenim during Mir’s practice, and yet all of this is ruined because now he has to go talk to Kim ing Jonghyun.

                “Sevvies,” Jonghyun grins upon seeing them—he sticks his tongue out.

                Kibum feels like cutting it off out of his mouth and stomping on it. Joon makes it slightly better by smiling—because when someone is that ridiculously attractive, just a smile can make house-destroying-hurricanes better. “Mir’s going to be on the team when he comes here,” Joon says eagerly. “He’s amazing. And Kibum’s his friend—I think he said he was joining swim—?”

                “Yeah,” Kibum affirms, nodding his head shortly. He continues to look at Joon and Mir and not Jonghyun because Kim Jonghyun doesn’t deserve eye-contact.

                “Are you staying to watch, hyung?” Mir asks Jonghyun, and jerks his head towards the other athletes stretching.

                “Yeah—I’m here with Cheondoongie,” Jonghyun says. “Sanghyunnie,” he clarifies a moment later. At that, Kibum glances at the tall boy tying up his sneakers a few paces away from the shed.

                “Byunghee-hyung isn’t going to get here in a while,” Joon tells Mir. “So you can go warm up or get food or something.”

                “That your coach?” Jonghyun asks.

                “Yeah,” Joon says, smiling. “He’s new—I think, barely out of college. But I like that better than the old one we had at the beginning of the year.”

                “’Kay, then I’ll see you,” Mir says, and grins mischievously at Kibum as he runs towards Cheondoong. Joon waves, smiles and jogs away too, motioning to the middle school students to start warming up on the field.

                Kibum stares.

                He’s just left Kibum alone with Kim Jonghyun.  

                Kim Jonghyun.

                Mir and Joon are going to die.

                “Hey,” Jonghyun suddenly says, his fingers brushing against Kibum’s arm to get the seventh grader’s gaze back to the conversation and away from glaring daggers at Mir. “You’re friends with Jung Yongjoo, right?”

                Kibum turns and decides that he might as well make eye contact with the because it’s hard to glare knives at someone if you don’t make eye contact with them. He turns and looks at Jonghyun, preparing his glower for full force.

                He turns—

                Oh.

                Oh.

                “Yeah, Yongjoo’s my friend,” he answers.

                Kim Jonghyun’s eyes—

                The eighth grader smiles and laughs a little bit. “She’s hot—you lucky bastard.”

                Kibum shrugs. “We’re just friends—I’ve known her since I was little.”

                His eyes—

                Jonghyun wrinkles his nose playfully. “Like I said—you lucky bastard.”

                Kibum smiles back.

                He smiles back because oh—

                He never knew that Kim Jonghyun’s eyes are pretty.

                Kibum came here to watch Joon run around track and sweat and take off his shirt and while Joon does indeed do all of the above, Kibum isn’t watching him at all. He spends the entire time sitting on the bleachers with Kim Jonghyun, talking about that doesn’t even matter and some that does and he hates it because Jonghyun is too easy to talk to and it shouldn’t be like this because he knows that this must be exactly how Jonghyun started out to make all of Kibum’s female friends cry.

                “That reminds me,” Jonghyun says after they finish talking about when their birthdays are. “What’re you doing next Saturday?”

                Kibum raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

                Jonghyun sticks his tongue out. “Does that mean you have something to do next Saturday?”

                “I’ll tell you after you tell me why,” Kibum says, smiling.

                Jonghyun rolls his eyes, and grins. “It’s Joonie-hyung’s birthday party. It’s his sixteenth, so it’s going to be kind of big. His parents are pulling in all the stops because I swear they are—like—in love with him.”

                “Well, they’re his parents, so I’d imagine,” Kibum says dryly.

                Jonghyun snorts. “You know what I mean—Joonie-hyung is like the perfect son, so he has four parents. His own and mine because he makes up for whatever I can’t do—which is school , for the most part.”

                Kibum detects something in his voice beneath the nonchalance, but puts it into the background of his mind. “So?”

                “So,” Jonghyun draws out the word, “d’you want to come? Mir probably would’ve told you about it anyway. Joon says I can bring whoever.”

                Kibum pushes the inside of his cheek out with his tongue, deliberating. He watches the anticipating expression on Jonghyun’s face (which is not attractive—it’s just his eyes, Kibum swears). “Why do you want to bring me? You just met me,” he finally decides on.

                Jonghyun shrugs and Kibum wants to punch a baby because he knows what kind of shrug that is—that is the flirting shrug. Kim Jonghyun is flirting with him and this is terrible because Jonghyun isn’t even supposed to like boys. “I don’t know,” Jonghyun says with his voice quiet and his smile playful. “You’re cool—I like you. Joonie-hyung likes you because you’re Mir’s friend and Mir’s his dongsaeng now. I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

                Kibum forces his expression to look unimpressed. “You’re flirting with me,” he says bluntly.

                A huge grin works its way onto Jonghyun’s face and he bursts out in laughter. He laughs and laughs and when he stops, Kibum notices that the older boy has slid just a bit closer. “I am,” he admits, still smiling broadly.

                Kibum snorts, but he can’t stop smiling back. He looks away for a moment, folding his arms and Jonghyun laughs. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, shaking his head and grinning.

                “Really?” Jonghyun teases. He pokes Kibum’s arm. “Really? Really, really?”

                “God—you’re such a flirt,” Kibum laughs and pushes the older boy away.

                Jonghyun pretends to fall of the metal seat and laughs too, staying on the lowered space between one bleacher and the next. He rests his elbows on the bench and smiles up at Kibum. “But I’m good at it, right, Kibum-ah?”

                Kibum allows a small smile slip onto his face. “Maybe.”

                Jonghyun raises his eyebrows. “Whoa there—that’s flirting.”

                “ off, hyung,” he laughs and the honorific falls of his tongue as if he’s known Jonghyun for years rather than minutes. He almost slaps his palm over his mouth, but then that would look equally stupid—but replacing a –shii with a –hyung is pretty forward and as stupid as it gets too. Especially when he’s just accused Jonghyun of being a flirt.

                He knows Jonghyun being Kim Jonghyun will say something cocky and flirtatious and the -ish-ness is bound to come out and then Kibum can flip him off, storm away, and not look back. And that’s exactly what should happen. This is exactly what should happen because Kim Kibum doesn’t want any part in Kim Jonghyun. All of the girls who took part in Kim Jonghyun emerge crying and in love and all around, it’s nothing but a whole bunch of useless.

                He waits for Jonghyun’s comment, ready to spin away dramatically.

                “Sorry,” Jonghyun says, and—of all things—reaches out and brushes Kibum’s cheek with the edge of his fingers for one-point-three seconds (not that Kibum’s counting or anything) and grins, showing all of his teeth, “if me flirting is weird.” He scrunches up his face playfully. “But I think you’re cute—so it’s kind of an automated reaction.”

                Kibum ignores the fact that the place where Jonghyun touched him is tingling. “Which means you flirt with everyone and anyone that’s cute,” Kibum clarifies, hoping that this is going to let him be able to spin away dramatically and not look back because the comment never came—instead the response was unfortunately kind of sweet and that’s just not going to cut it.

                Jonghyun looks amused. “No—just you.”

                Kibum snorts. “Sure.”

                Jonghyun doesn’t have any reason to, but he looks pleased at that answer for some reason and nudges the younger boy. “Come to Joonie-hyung’s party, okay? Promise?”

                Kibum looks into those eyes—big and dark and pretty. He plays it off. He laughs and rolls his eyes and makes his voice casual and teasing as he says, “Fine—just for you.”

                “Awesome,” Jonghyun grins.

                Kim Jonghyun, for much of Kibum’s childhood, has been the source of a lot of headaches. Just hearing the name sobbed from his female friends brings that pulsing to the side of his head.

                Now that he’s met Kim Jonghyun, the older boy is still a source of a lot of headaches. Hearing bells that loud does that to you, after all.

Falling U

Kibum knows that Joon lives a few blocks away from Mir, and that Mir has been to Joon’s house before—one day when Joon felt like hyung-dongsaeng bonding time after they got to know each other during track camp. Mir has also met Joon’s parents and has told Kibum that Joon’s parents are as weird-in-a-good-way as Joon, and that every terribly clichéd happy family that Kibum has ever seen in a movie is Lee Joon’s family.

                Which makes a lot of sense, because regardless of the rich and swanky, Joon’s birthday party is still upped a few more levels than any rich and swanky sixteen-year-old’s birthday party should ever be. And most parents would just leave the house to the maids to watch over because no parent wants to witness a living-room-turned-dance-floor full of teenagers invading each other’s personal space.

                Yet, Joon’s father seems to be watching all of this rather amusedly, and Joon’s mother is dancing with Joon in the invasion-of-personal-space dance floor.

                Mir is a little bit weirded out but Kibum thinks it’s adorable.

                And a little bit weird.

                But mostly adorable.

                Joon comes over to welcome Kibum and Mir once he manages to wrestle himself out of throng of people that constantly want to octopus themselves to him—girls congratulating him and cooing over his ridiculous attractiveness, and guys wanting to be the best men for the birthday boy. Another thing Kibum notices about Joon is that despite being an It guy, Lee Joon is clearly as ridiculously oblivious as he is ridiculously attractive.

                Because only someone that oblivious would throw all charisma out the window and have a shouting match upon first sight of his dongsaeng.

                “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HYUNG” Mir screams over the booming bass.

                “THANKS, MIR-AH” Joon shouts back.

                “I’M HUNGRY,” Mir bellows.

                “I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Joon yells.

                Kibum stares. “I’m leaving,” he says before his eardrums and sanity suffer any more damage. He puts his present for Joon on the table near the door—already halfway towards the ceiling with gift bags and gift boxes and cards of cash (although why anyone would give Lee Joon money, Kibum doesn’t understand because clearly from this party, Lee Joon is set for life).

                Kim Jonghyun is the reason Kibum’s here—Kim Jonghyun is also Lee Joon’s best friend, and yet there’s no sight of Jonghyun anywhere. Kibum would have expected to find him in a doughnut of pretty grinding girls somewhere in the middle of the dance floor.

                He’s just about to go back to Mir—who’s hopefully finished his obligatory retard session with Joon—when a pair of hands land over his eyes. “Boo,” a familiar voice laughs in his ear. Kibum rolls his covered eyes and rams his elbow into the body behind him. There’s a sound of discomfort and the body backs away. Kibum turns around and snorts.

                “You’re a creeper, you know that?” he says to Jonghyun, who’s doubled over holding his stomach. “There’s a line between being a big flirt and just outright creeping.”

                Jonghyun straightens with a grin, one hand still loosely on his stomach. Kibum can’t help but look him up and down, because even though Joon is ridiculously attractive, Jonghyun isn’t completely ugly either. Especially for tonight—his jeans cling to him, his layers of shirts are loose and fitting at the same time, and like always, the way he stands makes up most of why he’s so stunning. Kim Jonghyun always stands like his feet are planted on top of the world.

                And then, of course, there’re his eyes.

                The pretty eyes that set off those headache-inducing bells in Kibum’s head.

                “You look nice,” Jonghyun says, smiling.

                Kibum snorts. “Just nice?”

                Jonghyun laughs and takes his hand playfully, holding Kibum’s wrist loosely between his fingers. “You look hot—better?”

                “A little,” Kibum says, and takes his hand away.

                Jonghyun looks amused. “Why do you hate touching me so much?”

                “Should I like touching you?” Kibum asks flatly, as they sidestep nearer towards the wall when a girl glares at them for being in the way of her and the drinks table.

                Jonghyun shrugs. “I’m pretty attractive.”

                “No, I think you’re confusing yourself with your best friend. Joonie-hyung is pretty attractive.”

                “I’m attractive,” Jonghyun asserts in a small voice.

                And Kibum can only burst out laughing at the crestfallen expression on Jonghyun’s face. He holds on to the wall laughing, even when a group of eighth graders he’s seen around the school walk past and shoot him unhappy looks at the commotion. “Hyung,” he says, “just—oh my God.”             

                Jonghyun grins. “See? My attractiveness is making you laugh.”

                “No—no, it’s really not,” Kibum says, but he can’t stop smiling.

                “Sure it is,” Jonghyun insists and then takes Kibum’s hand again. This time, he doesn’t pull away. “C’mon—let’s go.”

                Kibum frowns. “Where?”

                “Joonie-hyung’s house is like my second home,” Jonghyun says. “I can pretty much go wherever I want even when there’s a party going on—and everyone’s all in love with the birthday boy anyway, so it’s pretty boring.”

                “This party,” Kibum says, with wide eyes, “is everything but boring.”

                Jonghyun snorts. “Like I said, I’ve known Joonie-hyung since I was born since Joonie-hyung was already retarding up the world for a year before I came into it, so there’s nothing really exciting in all this to me. So come on.” He tugs at Kibum’s hand, already making to head off in the opposite direction of the dance floor—which Kibum has been eyeing longingly for quite some time.

                “But I haven’t known him since I was born,” Kibum says glumly, still making loving eyes at the dance floor—it’s full of people with absolutely no space in between any of them, full of boys older than Kibum, full of girls older than Kibum, all swaying and rocking to the throbbing bass and just calling for Kibum to join.

                Jonghyun gives an exasperated sight. “If you come with me right now, I promise you that the next time Joon throws a party—which will be soon, because he’s a party and his parents love him too much—you’ll be the first on the list. Now come on, please?”

                “Really?” Kibum asks, raising his eyebrows. “Really?”

                “Yes, now come on,” and Jonghyun drags Kibum away without waiting for an answer.

                As it turns out, Jonghyun takes Kibum to a balcony that lies at the end of the central hallway of the Lee family’s top floor—it’s a floor above the bedrooms, where the study and the library is. The balcony is wide and stone and somewhat traditional—as traditional as a Western house in Korea can get. It reminds Kibum of the old pictures in his textbook when they study about European and American history.

                The view pans out to the rest of the neighborhoods—with rich and swanky houses, it’s easy to locate who lives where. He can see Mir’s house from here, as well as the rest of the ’91 line. He also sees Yongjoo’s house and wonders how she’s getting settled in America—she hasn’t written him in a while now.

                Jonghyun points out his own house to Kibum, and Kibum points out his.

                They don’t do much for the rest of the night—they sit, backs against the railing, and talk.

                They talk.

                They talk.

                They talk.

                Jonghyun tells Kibum about his parents and how they seem to want to share Joon as a son instead of having Jonghyun. He tells Kibum how Joon is not just ridiculously attractive, but also ridiculously kind and smart and amazing. He tells Kibum how whenever his parents are angry at him for not being good enough at school, not being apt enough to be the heir to the business, that Joon always defends him—always protects him. He tells Kibum about how he loves to swim and smiles when Kibum tells him that he does, too. He tells Kibum about how his parents had a pool in their backyard just like most everyone of the rich and swanky, but they filled it with cement because they thought Jonghyun swam too much and never studied.

                He tells Kibum that he knows his parents are right when they say that he’s not good enough to take over the family business—not good enough to handle a worldwide corporation like Joon is. Like Mir is. Like Kibum is. Like everyone else is. Everyone at their school are heirs to huge corporations, but Jonghyun tells Kibum that he’s the only one who’s too stupid to even understand what a consumer and what a producer is.

                Kibum wants to tell Jonghyun that he doesn’t think the older boy is stupid at all. He wants to tell Jonghyun that he thinks the older boy’s parents need to get their minds checked because even if Jonghyun isn’t a carbon copy of Joon doesn’t mean that he can’t be the head of a corporation. And if Jonghyun just wants to swim, then he shouldn’t have to head a corporation anyway.

                But he doesn’t.

                He doesn’t say any of this because he can already tell it’s happening.

                It’s happening to him just like it’s happening to all of those girls—all of those girls that are probably just blips in Jonghyun’s memory and Kibum doesn’t want to disappear like they do. He doesn’t want to be left when there’s someone prettier—when there’s someone better—when Jonghyun gets bored. He doesn’t want to be thrown away like that.

He wants Jonghyun to remember him.

They don’t see each other much at all for the next year because Kibum is in eighth grade and Jonghyun is in high school.

They still talk over the phone, through text, through emails, but for the most part, they only see each other in person when Jonghyun goes to Joon’s meets and Kibum goes to Mir’s.

Kibum thinks that this distance is good. This way, he won’t fall any more than he already has for Jonghyun. He can’t fall anymore because Jonghyun goes through lovers like sheets of paper—and it holds true for the way almost every time he calls Kibum, he talks about a different girl—but Jonghyun keeps friends tight against his chest. And Kibum doesn’t want to be used and thrown away like a sheet of paper. He wants to be talked about like Jonghyun talks about Joon. He wants to be that close to Jonghyun because Jonghyun talks about Joon like he’s the world to him and that’s what Kibum wants to be.

Yongjoo comes back from America during the summer before they enter high school.

Kibum recognizes her, but at the same time, he doesn’t.

She’s not Jung Yongjoo anymore—not really. She’s Jung Nicole and Kibum almost bursts out laughing right there from imagining what will happen with the ’91 line sees her.

When Yongjoo left, she was pretty with pigtails bouncing, and bright eyes—petite and a little bit too skinny. Yongjoo liked wearing jumpers and skirts and drawing on her sneakers. She liked the color red and she liked it when Kibum drew hearts for her to color and cut out.

Nicole is pretty, too. Nicole is beautiful. Her hair is short, above her shoulders, so she doesn’t have pigtails that bounce anymore. As a boy, Kibum can’t help but notice she has something else to bounce now and again has to restrain himself from laughing at the expression that’s going to be on Jinwoon’s face. Nicole likes to wear fitted jeans and leggings and skirts that are half the length of the ones she wore when she was Yongjoo. She wears heels that impress Kibum because they look like expensive, Italian leather death traps. She still likes the color red because that’s the color her nails are painted and she still can’t draw hearts for herself.

There’s no getting around the fact that Nicole is hot, and that’s the first thing that comes out of Kibum’s mouth when she comes over to his house after arriving in Korea just two days before.

“Oh you,” is what Nicole says back, laughing and pushing Kibum backward even though he’s taller than her now.

“How many hearts did you color and cut out in America?” Kibum grins, teasing further. “And—you know—rip and tear?”

“Kim Kibum,” she mock gasps. “I only had one boyfriend in America.”

“Liar,” Kibum goes on mercilessly and she throws a roll of tissues at his head.

He’s glad that Nicole withheld any pictures of her during her time in the States. Even though he’s missed seeing her, it’s worth it to see the drool flow from Jinwoon’s mouth like the picture of Niagara Falls on one of the postcards Nicole gave him.

 When he sees Jonghyun on the first day of high school, the bells ring—they ring so loudly, with so much force, that Kibum can’t feel himself breathe. He almost misses the sound of Jonghyun talking to him because they are that loud.

Jonghyun is taller—Kibum is still taller than him because he’s grown, too, but somehow Jonghyun seems bigger than him. Jonghyun must be joining Joon in the gym too because even through the uniform, his muscles are apparent. Every part of him is taut and fit and beautiful because he’s Kim Jonghyun and Kibum hates him for it. He hates him for making the bells ring. He hates that those bells only ring when someone who goes through lovers like sheets of paper is near him.

“I like your hair,” Kibum says at the three shades of blond that grow lighter as they get farther from Jonghyun’s crown.

“I like your face,” Jonghyun grins, slinging his arm around Kibum’s neck. “And your hair,” he adds after a beat. “It’s colorful,” he says, staring absently at Kibum’s bangs. “Like a rainbow.”

Kibum snorts into his hand and hopes that there’s no snot involved. “Oh my God, you are so retarded that it hurts.”

Jonghyun looks offended. “I just gave you a compliment.”

“Of course you did, hyung,” Kibum says patronizingly and pats Jonghyun’s chest.

“,” Jonghyun rolls his eyes, and grins. He hugs Kibum to his side with the arm that’s around the younger boy. “But I missed you so ing much, you .”

“Missed you, too, bastard,” Kibum says back and the bells go off again.

It’s only a week into the new school year when Kibum and Jonghyun have for the first time.

Kibum has thought about it the entire summer.

He’s thought and thought and thought about how to go about this—because this is something that no girl can ever do with Jonghyun. Not for now, because the rich and swanky always come with consequences and while impregnating a girl is already horrific enough for a regular teenager, impregnating a girl for a rich and swanky teenager is just grounds for suicide. The newspapers cover stuff like this when you are rich and swanky.

It’s Kibum’s first time, but he makes sure it doesn’t seem like it. He doesn’t want it to seem like it because Jonghyun has confessed that he’s had before—twice—in the middle of his first year, before deciding the risk was too big and the girl was getting too attached.

So despite the awkward, he asks.

He makes Dongwoon ask Doojoon and Yoseob. He makes Mir ask Joon because Joon is ridiculously attractive and obliviousness isn’t the same thing as innocence. He makes Jaejin ask Hongki and Jonghun. He asks Nicole because it was America, after all. He makes all of them ask even though they are all cringing into themselves. He holds blackmail and childhood secrets above their heads and sends them off to curl their fingers and toes because he has to know.

 It’s Kibum’s first time, but he makes sure it doesn’t seem like it with the ’91 line’s help. He makes it believable. He makes Jonghyun think that he’s done it before. When Jonghyun asks who, Kibum tells him that there’s a reason that Nicole is the only girl in the ’91 line and the rest are boys. He makes Jonghyun think that Kibum sleeps around in the year that they’ve been apart because if Jonghyun even has a single inkling that Kibum isn’t a , hasn’t slept around, hasn’t had before, then Jonghyun will stop.

Because all of those girls were never lying—never deceived—when they told Kibum that Jonghyun is nice.

Jonghyun is nice. Jonghyun is wonderfully kind and gentle and Kibum doesn’t understand how someone like that goes through lovers like sheets of paper but the older boy does, so Kibum has to do everything he can not to be another sheet of paper that Jonghyun throws out when he’s done.

He’s practiced in front of a mirror.

He convinces Jonghyun to keep doing this—to keep having with him. He tells Jonghyun that it’s just as friends—that they can do this because they’re such close friends. He tells him that nothing will change. He laughs it off—telling Jonghyun that he’s lucky he has such a hot friend willing to have with him—that Jonghyun isn’t going to get another opportunity like this because Jonghyun isn’t as attractive as Joon.

Jonghyun agrees to it, laughing and hugging and kissing Kibum.

There’s nothing wrong with this arrangement.

Jonghyun is Jonghyun and Kibum is Kibum and nothing has changed. The is indescribable, their friendship is strong, Jonghyun still goes through girls like sheets of paper, but he keeps Kibum closer and closer to his chest. Jonghyun isn’t throwing Kibum away any time soon, and there should be nothing wrong with this arrangement.

Kibum still hears the bells, but that’s normal—there’s nothing wrong with that.

Except that he wishes Jonghyun could hear them, too.