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Artem mendacium.

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[CONTENTID2]

'Grey lies, though... I would say that people who tell those are artists.'

Yoongi's reply had hardly made any sense to me. After all, people who told lies were bad, while artists inspired a sort of greatness in the world. It baffled me how one could even think a connection could exist between the two. All this time, I had believed that I had Yoongi figured out, but I was beginning to see that he was much more complicated than I had ever thought.

'Complicated' isn't a bad thing, though.

After all, I was complicated, but I wouldn't label myself as dangerous, someone you'd need to be cautious of. That's why people must've found it so easy to lie to me–they believed I was a simple-minded, easygoing creature.

Luckily, I had Yoongi.

With a small sigh, I reluctantly slid off of the lid of the toilet seat, my feet once again secure on the smooth tiles of the floor. Standing up, I opened the door to the bathroom stall, nervously checking to see if anyone else had come inside. Relieved to see that nobody had, I stepped out, heading towards the dingy sinks.

Splashing the sink's cold water in my face, I harshly washed the tracks of tears that stained my face. I looked up, staring in the mirror with a blank expression. My lips were slightly parted as I stared at my reflection, my head tilted slightly as though I were questioning something. The water continued to run, the only thing that had not been frozen in time.

I look terrible, it'll be embarrassing to return to class in this state.

Yet, as I turned off the water, my legs began to move, leading me out of the bathroom and towards the cafeteria. Despite my fears, there was still 5 minutes left, and Yoongi had left me with too many questions. 

It'll be difficult to focus in class if my mind is still confused.

Keeping my eyes focused on the ground as I worked my way through the halls, I overheard a girl complaining about Jungkook ignoring her. I frowned, wondering why he would've done that, or if he had been misinterpreted. Maybe I was misinterpreting him, getting overly offended over a simple comment he made.

No, that can't be right.

If he said I only had one friend, was he implying that he didn't see me as a friend? I didn't quite understand. Yoongi, of course, was my closest friend, but I had percieved Jungkook to be my next–after all, he was one of the few I conversed with.

That comment must have been revealing his true feelings, though. Maybe he was acting differently in comparison to how he felt, maybe he pitied me? Worse, he could've been using me.

He must have been pretending this whole time.

People like that were why I could never trust people after the incident. It made it too hard to do so, knowing that anybody could easily backstab you, under the pretense of care.

A vat of lies could easily be obscured by a mask of kindness.

I shook my head, hoping to clear the pessimistic thoughts from my mind. Entering the cafeteria, I finally looked up, scanning the room for a mostly-empty table.

I don't know what I was expecting. For some reason, I had thought Yoongi would've been alone. It'd had made sense, since he always ate with me. I wasn't there today, so wouldn't he be alone?

There weren't any lonesome students in the cafeteria, so where was he?

Frowning, I continued looking around until I spotted my messy-haired friend.