You're still thinking about your sister when you open the door of the library. It was surprising, but not really, how quickly she had changed her mind. That was the thing about Suyeon, She is obstinate, but also very impulsive. Of course, you're happy that her change in thought played in your favor this time, but...well, not that it is important anyways. After your argument and the subsequent resolution of the conflict, the both of you went back to your natural state of peaceful coexistence, talking to each other only when necessary. Although you thought that something in Suyeon's demeanor had slightly changed, she had given you a playful nudge when you went out the door this morning. Probably the first friendly gesture since you had gotten into high school, it actually made you feel bit better about yourself, almost like the entire JB fiasco hadn't happened. Yet still, her words kept replaying in your mind. She was still hurting and it wasn't like her swollen eyes were easy to ignore. She shushed you when you brought it up, but it was obvious that she had been crying, crying over a relationship that never began, over what ifs, over a boy with copper hair and twinkling eyes. You feel pity for her.

Spotting Mark, you break out of your thoughts and head over to his table. As if he was expecting you, his study utensils only cover one half of it and now that you're looking at it, it seems surprisingly well organized. Organized and neatly arranged, with books lying on the table and erasers and pencils kept together in 90 degree angles. Maybe this kind of precision is to be expected from a chemistry major. For a second, you're reminded of your sister, whenever she decides to study, everything is messily strewn across the table….pencils, pens, sticky notes, just everything.

When she decides to study that is.

You look at Mark for a second, pondering over something. Now, that your sister has sworn of Jaebum... You halt. Your thoughts are drifting into an entirely wrong direction. You really have to stop yourself from following nonsensical thoughts.

Shifting from one foot to another, you open your mouth. Your voice sounds soft. “Can I- Can I sit down?”

Mark looks up at hearing you, slight surprise evident in his features. His features. Now that you're thinking about it, Suyeon must like this type. Pale, smooth skin, dark hair and handsome face, she did like JB after all.

No. No. No! Not happening.

You shake your head, mentally scolding yourself. Then you look at Mark. Had he already answered your question?

Mark is busily evading your eyes, his fringe falling over his eyebrows, but then he gives you a small nod. Timidly, you put your backpack on the ground and get out your own study items, sifting through all the notes you took in class. It seems so loud in the quiet of the library, in the silence that lingers in the air that even the act of rummaging through your folder feels louder than usual.

It's only when you've been working for an hour or longer, that you find yourself staring at Mark again. He seems responsible, you notice, mature and hard working. More mature than Suyeon.

Embarrassed, you bury your face in your hands. Now that you began thinking about it, you can't help yourself. Would it really hurt to play matchmaker again? Of course, the first attempt had turned out catastrophic, but it had been the first attempt and you didn't have to force them together, you could just give them a slight push in the right direction. Make them stumble into each other, make them introduce themselves to one another. Maybe it won’t work, but it was worth a try, right?

“Mark?” you finally whisper. He looks up at the sound of your unsure voice, but as always his eyes don't meet yours, but seem to be fixated on something behind you that you can't see. It's still quiet and he seems to be waiting for you to say something.

“Do you- Do you have a girlfriend?” As the words leave your mouth, he coughs, his eyes turning wide. His thick eyebrows shoot up and you quickly turn to rummage through your backpack for an unopened bottle of water. You hand it to him, but he shakes his head. His coughing has stopped, but his face has turned slightly red, for a moment, you are happy that you are not the only one with this embarrassing trait.

“I'm fine”, he insists, nodding his head slightly and with embarrassment while you look at him. His fringe falls over his eyes again and you suddenly turn timid and stare down at your book. You have never been so straight-forward before, never asking questions so bluntly.

Feeling your cheeks heating up, you fold your hands together, shaking your head. “Sorry, I- I shouldn't have asked”, you mutter, deciding to put your hands on the table again. If only he could forget that you ever asked this question.

Then, unexpectedly, Mark opens his mouth. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

You hear him hesitating for a second, then you hear the distant shuffling of footsteps, the sound of someone turning a page. You hear the rustling of leaves. Then Mark speaks again. “But, I do want to date.”

Without wanting in, your heart starts thumping in your chest and you bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers again. He wants to date, you should feel happy, really. If he wants to date that means you can introduce him to your sister if she's up for it. But why is it that you suddenly have a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach?

Before you can open your mouth to ask him whether he knows Suyeon, your eyes glide over your wrist watch. Startled, your eyes widen. Dance practice starts in seven minutes! You jump up quickly and start throwing your study utensils into your backpack. “Sorry, I have to leave”, you explain. “I'm late for something!” Hurriedly snatching the last pencil from the desk, you quickly give Mark an apologetic glance. “I'm sorry”, you repeat. Then you break out into a light jog.

**

You still arrive late. Everyone is already warming up and Yugyeom narrows his eyes at you, as you slip between the rows of students, trying to find your place next to Somin. She gives you a questioning glance, but continues stretching her leg. As expected, you feel Yugyeom's hard glare on you as you practice and you furrow your eyebrows. After he scolded you last time, you wanted to prove him wrong by working harder. Working harder on your dancing, working harder on everything, but instead you are late. When you start with the routine after warming up, you put everything into your dancing.

You are actually following everyone else quite well today, you notice. Even Somin stops to give you an appreciative nod when you're done, but still, when you look at the front, you can see Yugyeom's tall figure looking into your direction with a sullen face.

Is he ever going to be content?

When the class ends, you lie on your back, completely exhausted. You hear someone putting away the speakers, and when you look up, you see Yugyeom. Your eyes meet for a second. Just a second, but the coldness in his eyes makes your blood freeze in your veins. It catapults your heart to run at a frantic pace, threatening to break out of your ribcage.

Then he adverts his gaze and you let out a silent breath, a sigh of relief. And it makes you feel like a coward. With that thought, a tiny defiant spark of determination ignites inside of you. A tiny spark that makes you voice out the question that has been weighing on your shoulders for so long.

“What is your problem?”

For a moment, you're stunned. Shocked by the fact that you had spoken up also catching Yugyeom off-guard. His eyes widened, turn his face into a grimace, then his expression quickly changes and he lets out a scoff.

“You are.”

You are his problem? His words hit you, making your heart constrict in your chest with pain. As soon as the flame of bluntness came, it left. Extinguished. Gone. Your next words stumble out of your mouth as you straighten up weakly.

“I know I'm not good at danci-”

Yugyeom cuts you off. “You're fake.” It's just two words, but they make you tremble.

“W- What?” Fake? You furrow your eyebrows. What does he even mean by that?

He suddenly sneers. “You think I don't know why you cling onto Bambam? I've seen you with them. JB, Youngjae, Mark. Do you think I'm stupid?”

Your eyes start prickling at his words. At his mention of the other boys Yugyeom saw you with. You don't even know what he's getting at, but you know that he's wrong, he's completely wrong.

Yugyeom comes closer, eyeing you closely and with disdain. His eyes are dark. So dark, that you take a step back, trembling.

“What?” He lets out a scoff, taking another step. The distance between you is nonexistent at this point and you flinch. “You're just after him for his money! Bambam refuses to see it.”

What? Your mind is blank for a second. For his money? You let out a quiet breath. Does Yugyeom really think that? Does Yugyeom really think that you're so despicable? Your throat suddenly feels raw and dry. The mention of the other boys escapes your head and your cheeks are burning up as if you're getting sick.

“You- You're wrong”, you suddenly whisper. Your heart thumps in your chest. Thumps so loudly and strongly. You take a step back. “Have you ever considered that maybe I like spending time with him?”

And before he can say anything else, you grab your bag and run out of the practice room. You don't hear the door falling shut after you, you don't hear anything, just the constant drumming of your heart that is still beating so fast. When you finally have to stop at traffic light, you're wheezing. Panting. Your fingers move up and touch your face, feeling the wetness. You're crying. Crying because you finally found out why Yugyeom hates you. Crying because you rather wouldn't have found out about it at all. The light turns green, it's time to go home.

**

“And? What do you say? Are you up for it?” Bambam sounds enthusiastic and you can't help but bite your lip. Your right hand is fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I...”

Somehow, Yugyeom's words have an invisible weigh on your mind. A weight that traps you, pushes you into a corner, making you unable to say anything.

“It's just a small party”, Bambam offers. “We'll celebrate the return of a friend from Hong Kong.”

“Is it even right if I come then?” You don't want to disturb a private reunion. Especially not one between Bambam and his friend that you don't even know, it probably wouldn't be appropriate, would it?

You look through the window down onto the dull green of the trees. “If it's something private...” You trail off, not knowing what to say, but Bambam just laughs.

“Well, you know my friends, right? The main objective is to party. You don't have to come if you don't want to...” You can hear still the disappointment lingering in his voice, so you quickly shake your head.

“No, no, it's not that I don't want to come. I want to spend time with you...” Somewhere in the distance you hear the screeching of a car.

Bambam clears his throat. “You really do?” He sounds so hopeful and happy that it makes the weight on your shoulders feel even heavier. Why is it that you feel this way? Ever since Yugyeom told you how lowly he truly thinks of you, you can't help yourself. Your thoughts drift off, take you to somewhere you don't want to go. What if Bambam is going to think the same thing as Yugyeom? Or worse, what if you really are the way Yugyeom described you? What if you really are a fake? Only with Bambam because of his wealth? What if you really are...?

“That's good! That's great actually. I'll come pick you up then, ok? I have to get to my lecture now, but I'll text you the details later, ok?”

Bambam's enthusiasm doesn't get through the thick wall that you've built up, through our clouded mind. You only nod your head weakly and hang up.

It's difficult, really, being sensitive. You start thinking all kinds of negative things, start echoing the criticism and hurtful words other have thrown your way in your own mind. And you never stop either.

Putting down your phone, you see a new message on your screen. Your mother wants you to go to the grocery store to pick up some rice and vegetables. You let out a sigh at that but go to the wardrobe and throw on a thick cardigan. It's only a short walk, luckily, nothing too much, but after the call you would rather roll up into your blanket and go to sleep for a few hours or maybe a few days.

When you arrive in the store, you get a small basket and browse through the aisles. You put in the things your mother wanted and then head to where the sweets are, brushing past a couple of chattering girls. When you're finally there, you feel like you're in heaven. Candy…Chocolate…Mint chocolate…White chocolate…Sweet…Sour. You your lips and kneel down, the decision is pretty hard, but you finally decide on some cherry candy, deciding to heal your heart by indulging in the sweet taste. You move up and nearly bump into a shopping cart, the plastic almost hitting you. Startled, you jump back.

“I'm sorry”, you instantly apologize, grasping onto your basket. “I didn't see-”

Your words stop suddenly. Your throat turns into the Sahara desert, a tap that no longer has any water. Staring at you with bored eyes, is Youngjae, who once brought you home after a party. Youngjae who saw you breaking down at the last one. You gulp at the thought and, finding it necessary, apologize again with a deep blush painting your cheeks. He doesn't acknowledge your apology, but when he moves to swerve his shopping cart, you get a peek at the contents. It's just a few boxes of ramen.

“Let me pay for you”, you quickly offer. “As a thank you. You- you gave me a ride that day.”

Unimpressed, he moves his cart forward, but you quickly put your hand on it. “Then let me at least buy you some candy.”

When he stops moving, you give him a grateful smile. His hair still has the same honey blond color as when you last saw him. Everything looks the same, apart from his clothes, he's wearing sweatpants and a big sweater. He looks... warm. Comfortable.

Stopping your thoughts, you quickly look at the shelf. Your cheeks are warm. “What is your favorite chocolate? Milk chocolate?” You throw around random guesses.

Then, you hear a sigh escaping his mouth. It sounds tired. Ignoring it, you turn around slightly, not looking at him. “Do you even like chocolate?”

“I like white chocolate.” You flinch at the sound of his voice behind you. It sounds sharp, but not harsh. Youngjae's voice is surprisingly warm instead. Quickly grabbing a chocolate bar, you chuck it into your basket and then turn to the other side.

“I would have pegged you as the dark chocolate kind of guy...Kind of bitter, you know?” He stays silent at your joke and you close your eyes in embarrassment. Why did you have to say that?

The two of you head to the checkout together. You with fast strides, while Youngjae is a few steps behind you. You quickly put your items on the conveyor belt and then reach for your wallet. There is no wallet. You check again, no wallet. You quickly look into your, throwing a glance to your side you can see the items moving closer to the cashier and you start to panic. You check your pockets. No money. No coins. No bills. Nothing! Your cheeks are heating up as you freeze for a second. Should you just take the items and put them back or should you convince the cashier to wait a few minutes so you can go home and get the money?

“I'm paying.”

Youngjae's voice breaks you out of your thoughts. Before you can stop him, the cashier scans your items and you turn around with wide eyes, looking at the boy with honey-blond hair.

“I'm so sorry- oh my god. I'm sorry.”

He only gives you an aloof expressions as he gets out some bills. You quickly grab your rice and vegetables and chocolate. Without the basket, your arms are full and you struggle to secure the items in your grasp. Then you stare at Youngjae, he hands the cashier a bill and you memorize the prize of your items in your mind. You have to pay him back as soon as possible.

“I-”, you hesitate for a minute. “I'll pay you back when I see you next time?” It's more of a question. Would there be a next time? Would you see him again? You balance the rice in your arms to keep it from falling and tilt your head. “You'll be at the party, right? For Jinyoung's friend?”

It's a blind guess. Grasping at straws. But it turns out to be right.

“Jackson?” Youngjae says. You're confused for a second. Jackson. You hadn't heard the name before. Following him out of the store, you open your mouth again, “Is he the one from Hong Kong?”

Youngjae throws you a glance. “That is Jackson”, he deadpans.

You tilt your head at the sight of his aloof expression and then give him a last smile. You have to turn left now. “I promise I'll give you the money.”

You hear Youngjae sighing. “Just get into my car, I'll give you a ride.”

You hesitate. “I can just-” Youngjae's bored eyes meet yours and you can't help yourself staring at them. The tiny mole beneath his eye, the way his lashes curve downwards. The dark brown of his iris, they are eyes to become lost in, labyrinths of shadow and light.

“Ok.”

As you get into Youngjae's car, you try to justify your decision in your mind. You can pay him back this way, can't you? You'll give him back his money as soon as you arrive at your house, his money. That is why you got into his car. You bite your lip for a second and stare down at your hands. Unconsciously, you had started playing with them again. You stop and glance at Youngjae. His eyes are focused on the road, so focused, that you don't even want to say anything. His hair is down this time, honey blond covering half of his face. His strong nose and smooth skin. His thin and pink lips that form a straight line. Your eyes wander down slowly, crawling almost. Youngjae's chest is raising up and down regularly under the seatbelt.

“We're here”, he finally says, starling you, tearing you out of your reverie. You turn to the window, and it's true. The familiar sight of your house is greeting you. When the car comes to a stop, you open the door and get your purchases, surprised when Youngjae grabs the rice. Did he see you struggling? You smile bashfully at that thought and go to the front door. Youngjae trails after you, putting the items down on the steps and then turn around.

“I'll just get inside and get the money...” you awkwardly trail off when Youngjae shakes his head.

“I'm not a beggar”, he says without malice. “Keep it.”

You smile at his words. “See it as a taxi fare then for driving me... Two times.”

Then you skip up the steps and get inside, coming back just a few seconds later with the exact amount that you owe him. You stretch out both of your hands and offer it to him, staring at him from under your lashes.

When he takes it and his hand brushes against yours for a millisecond, you swear you can almost see a hint of a smile on his lips.