"Dude, you'll be fine," Jooheon assures his dongsaeng, clapping the boy on the shoulder as they near the looming class building. Four stories of nothing but classrooms, computer labs, and the occasional bathroom. The red-bricked structure blocks out the sun behind it due to its height, and the darkened windows stare down at the two boys with a judging gaze. 

Or, at least, that's how it feels for Changkyun. He glances over to his friend and roommate, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.  

"H-How do you know, hyung?" Changkyun can't help but ask. His wider-than-usual eyes shine frantically, and Jooheon can't help but sigh. 

"You graduated valedictorian of your class, Kyunnie," Jooheon tells him, his tone unamused. "Even if the professor doesn't like you personally, he'll respect you because of how well you'll do in the class. That's how it is, sometimes." 

"But—" 

"No buts," Jooheon interrupts, giving the boy a shove towards the building. "Now go on, I'll meet you back at the dorm after. It's your last class, right?" Changkyun nods, his lips as he stumbles about. He grips the strap of his messenger back with a death-grip, his knuckles turning white as he nods numbly. 

He's had two classes today already, but this was the one he's been worried about ever since he signed up for the class. This Professor Yoo has a reputation for being incredibly difficult. It's a higher-level course, so difficulty is to be expected... It just doesn't set his mind at ease considering it is his first semester and all. He has a leg up since it's English, a language he learned the basics of when he was young, but after some of the stories he's heard... Well, suffice it to say he feels as if he's about to either throw up or have a heart attack, maybe even both. 

"Good, we can grab lunch, and you can tell me all about how I was right." Jooheon chuckles behind him at his own words, his hand squeezing the younger's shoulder once, firmly, before he starts off in the direction of his own class.  

Changkyun gulps loudly around the ball of stress in his throat, draws in a steadying breath, and walks on wobbly knees towards the building. 

After walking up all the stairs to the top floor, hoping to somehow work through his nerves via some physical exertion, but it doesn't work. So now, here he is, walking into the last class of the day looking an absolute mess, heaving air into his lungs with jelly-like legs carrying him. Luckily, he's still a bit early, and there's barely anyone in the room to witness his personal tragedy. 

He weaves his way through the haphazardly-placed desks, as he'd entered in the back of the room, to sit in the front. He wants to leave a good impression on the professor, to show him he means business. Sitting in the front will do just that. 

The first-year takes out his laptop and opens it, having at least twenty minutes to kill. Maybe some songwriting will sufficiently calm him by the time everyone arrives... 

This proves to be good in theory, but awful in practice as he becomes so absorbed in the task that he doesn't realize as people begin filtering in... including the professor himself. 

A stern, clear clap of hands jolts Changkyun out of his focus, and he glances up with frightened eyes. He in a breath at the man standing in front of the room, the almost playful smirk quirking up his lips. 

He's years older, obviously not the boy he used to be, but there's no mistaking those dimples set in his cheeks, the eyes glittering behind the man's glasses. 

Kihyun...  

Changkyun had never known his family's name, as there had been such an age difference between them back then. Well, technically it's still there, but that's beside the point.  

After moving to Korea from living abroad, his family had moved into a cute little house on a tiny little street. There had been a boy next door, Kihyun. He'd been a bit chubby, with glasses practically glued to his face. He'd go around caroling with the local church every year, which had been the most interaction Changkyun would ever have with his eight-year-older neighbor, but that was no matter. It'd been enough for the younger to become completely mystified with the boy. 

Nothing had ever come of the crush, as Changkyun had been sure that it was one-sided. Kihyun had moved off to go to college, and Changkyun had done his best to push thoughts of the younger from his mind. He'd eventually moved on, dating a girl here and there throughout his adolescence until he realized he was quite too gay for that . However, memories of the boy had never managed to fully leave the younger's mind, constantly being in the back of his mind, whispering to him sweet nothings at night and being that wonderful what-if of his youth. 

Now, this what-if is staring at him, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Changkyun grows petrified, frozen in his seat as the man struts towards him, looking absolutely divine in his simple yet elegant suit. The first-year's mouth goes dry, his eyes growing wide with each step the older takes.  

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the simple action making Changkyun's heart claw up his throat. Kihyun—no, Professor Yoo—offers forward a piece of paper. Changkyun looks down at it dumbly, his mind going a million miles a second. 

His panic subsides, however, at seeing it's just the roll. 

"Start passing this around, would you?" the man asks, a brow rising up promptingly.  

Changkyun can't physically nod any faster as he hastily takes the paper, scribbles his own initials next to his name, and haphazardly passes it to the person behind him. Kihyun walks away, towards the podium at the corner of the room, and turns on the overhead projector. He immediately begins going over the syllabus and objectives of the course, and Changkyun practically trips over himself as he puts away his laptop. 

He does his best to ignore the way his heart palpitates off-beat in his chest, the way his palms begin to sweat. 

God, this class is going to be a living hell...