Junmyeon was the kind of person that seemed for me to be unreal. Not that it was a bad thing. Not at all.

He just had everything so under control. From paperwork and democratic duties to students and people in general, the guy managed to organize his time to help with everything at least for a little. Besides, he was really active and creative on his own, as if he was silently hoping to become a real president in the future. And we just met a few times before, but there was he, again, working his out in order to make the school a better place or something dramatic like that. I was amazed.

Still, I asked. Peacefully and on the sly, I approached him as the eerie feelings from seconds before finally got eclipsed with a very familiar worry: The homework. However, silly me tried to break the ice with a small, smooth talk that led him to explain me why was he so worried about the health of students who couldn't eat certain foods that always had a place in the cafeteria. He had plans to change that. I offered some help in looking for easy, universal solutions to that problem (see: ask my parents for recipes and maybe some help with special workshops). The rest was up to him. He had the worst part, even if I suddenly felt like I was getting into a big responsability.

"Are you sure you can help me, Meia? Isn't a burden?" He asked for the fifth time, and maybe, just maybe, I lied.

"I'm pretty sure. And it's not. My mom has some free time since she's on vacations and I know she's gonna love the idea."

But, in fact, I had no idea. I mean, my mom was great at cooking and my dad had amazing ways to make everything at least decent, but this was... well, kind of a big thing. Not like food for a party, but food for at-least-a-week-long party. Anyway, I knew that it was possible. I thought of it as a prepayment for my request... and boy, I was, once again, doomed.

I spent almost two hours in that office. Talking, helping and just looking at the young president do all of that stuff my mind couldn't process very well. We talked about the food matter, he asked me if maybe I prefered to get home (I did, of course, but denied any sign of it for the sake of education), and at some point we just stayed in silence while doing papers, papers, papers.

"Kim Junmyeon?", I finally decided that it was my time. As he was doing some paperwork and I was sitting beside him on the desk, basically just hanging there, it seemed right to speak. He nodded, lifting his head and giving me full attention. Good thing. "I... Well, I need some help with a math assignment and, you know, I thought that maybe you could help me?"

I avoided his gaze, true, but I could sense his rejection on the way it took him so long to find an answer. Junmyeon.exe totally stopped working.

He slightly stuttered, but firmly stared at me. "An assignment for what?"

Was he going to help me? Was he just curious? Hard to say. "Math, with Mr. Choi."

"Would it take too long?"

"I wish", my thoughts came out loud. I tried not to laugh of awkwardness and added: "Well... It's a project?"

Junmyeon sighed. Not the bad kind of sigh, but the complicated kind of sigh. I kind of got it, and a part of me felt proud. Really proud. If I hadn't offered my help with his concerns just hours ago, maybe it would've been easier for Junmyeon to say just no, sorry, but I can't. But heck if I wasn't a beast for bussiness.

Yet he said no.

"Meia... I don't think I'd get enough time to help you." He then paused, and I could sense his urges to get back to the papers and stadistics. But no. No, "But..." And YAS. Just a but and I was reassured. So reassured, almost victorious. Just almost. "I'll ask Sehun. Oh Sehun, do you know him? I'm pretty sure he'd love to help."

But just the name SeHun made me raised an eyebrow.

. . .

An hour later I was walking back home, holding a gracefully written note by Junmyeon. He wrote this Sehun guy