Jongin splashed cold water on his face in the hopes of snapping out of it. He was so nervous that not only were his hands shaking, but it felt like the core of his entire being was shaking. He could feel every single cell in his body vibrating, as if the DNA inside them was slowly coming apart. Maybe just as well, he would much rather dissolve into a puddle of sticky goo right now, than have to give this presentation in front of the whole class.

Public speaking always gave him extreme stage fright. It was just something at which he was horribly bad, and there was nothing he could do to change that. He had made his peace with it and eliminated all future careers which involved even the slightest chance of public speaking. It wasn't like he hadn't tried. There were not many methods left out there that he had yet to try. Breathing techniques, visualization, over-preparation. Nothing worked. He had even tried meditation, but that just meant leaving him and his brain alone together to come up with all the different ways of how it could all go terribly wrong. When the millionth scenario he imagined featured his clothes being abducted by aliens, only his clothes mind you, so he was forced to do the presentation stark , he concluded that this method was not very productive and abandoned it altogether. Instead of worrying about unrealistic supernatural problems, he could just as well spend his time freaking out about more mundane things, like stumbling over his own words or forgetting them completely. But lately, there had been a string of some very strange, very unfortunate incidents. Every time he got the slightest bit nervous, weird things happened. And he could feel it was going to happen again.

Taking a deep breath whilst suppressing the urge to vomit, he got up in front of the class. His legs felt like Jell-O, they were having the hardest time supporting his weight. He heard a faint giggle. Was someone laughing at him? Did he look ridiculous? He could feel a drop of cold sweat glide down his forehead, getting stuck in the jungle that was his eyebrow. He swallowed and furtively searched the absentminded crowd of students in front of him until he found that one friendly face. A face he knew all too well. That goofy grin never failed to cheer him up.

Sehun, his best friend and co-conspirator in life, sent him a very dramatic 'fighting', his eyes beaming. After seven years in this tiny town that most people had never heard of, he had almost completed the transition into a proper hillbilly, albeit a very pale, gangly one, with a strong Seoul accent on his surprisingly non-fluent Korean. He was proud of him, although he would never ever tell Sehun that to his face. Jongin used to hate living in the middle of nowhere, complaining to his parents nonstop that there were so many opportunities he was missing because they were holding him hostage in this forsaken place, but after Sehun transferred to their school he started being thankful for this prison they had kept him in. Maybe it was fate. He had just been waiting for his other half to arrive, and then finally he felt like himself.

Sehun stuck both his index fingers into his mouth, manually widening his grin. What was he doing? Had he gone completely mental? It looked like it hurt. Sehun nodded towards him as if he wanted him to do the same. Ah, he wanted him to smile. Yesterday, when Sehun was helping him prepare, he had reminded him at least a million times of the importance of a good smile, yet he forgot. He nodded back to get Sehun to stop that awful self-torture. It was overkill for Sehun to possibly permanently deform his own face just to remind him to smile. Although he did look really funny, so maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea to have him carry this on for the length of the presentation so he had something fun and de-stressing to focus on. If he hadn't been so nervous, he would have chuckled. Taking another deep breath, he attempted a warm smile, but he could feel it turning to ice the moment it showed up on his lips.

With his frozen smile, he started his presentation. Only, a tad bit too zealously. He had been trying to compensate for his lack of confidence with copious amounts of energy, but it backfired. Epically. As he started his introduction, he swung the pen in his hand for emphasis, but he lost his grip, sending it flying over half the classroom. The sound it made when it hit the window made his blood curdle. The glass shattered into a million little pieces, making everyone in the room scream in unison. Mortified, he just stood there. He didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do. He was completely and utterly screwed. How was he going to explain this? He could feel his brain cells overheat as he desperately searched for a probable explanation, or any explanation at all. But of course, there was none to be found.

“Kim Jongin! Principal. Now.” the teacher pointed at the door, her hand was shaking something fierce.

“It was an accident.” Jongin sank into the uncomfortable chair in front of the principal's desk. He had been there a few times before.

“Of course it was. It's not like you could've made this happen even if you wanted to. Nobody could. A simple pen can't break a window. That's preposterous! The glass must have been faulty. It's the only explanation.” the principal concluded, shaking her head at this strange situation. Jongin could think of another explanation, but he kept it to himself.

“Ah, it seems fortune has forsaken you of late. I'm afraid I am still going to have to contact your parents. For insurance purposes, you see.” she continued, unwittingly crushing Jongin's world with one short phone call. She dialed the number before Jongin even had the chance to plead his case.

“Nini, lisss go 'ome now, mkay? Givin' me alcu'hol poiss'nin' won' make yoh parunts change thr mind.” Sehun slurred, peering his eyes in an effort to focus. Jongin finished another bottle of soju and threw it in a pile of empty ones. He had been hoping for a total blackout, but instead, he just felt dizzy and queasy. Nothing was going his way today. He didn't want to go home. Not yet. Not ever.

He let out a heavy sigh and leaned his back up against Sehun's back, letting the tiredness take over his body. He could feel his jean pocket vibrate. It had been vibrating off and on all night. They were looking for him. He knew exactly what they were going to say and he didn't want to hear it.

Sehun smelled really good. “Did you change your cologne? You smell nice.” he said as he turned around and gave him a big back hug, burying his face in Sehun's nice smelling neck.

“Tha' tick'lls” Sehun chuckled, trying to shake him off his back. But he didn't want to get off just yet. For the first time today, he felt safe, so he tightened his grip, hanging on like an octopus, using all his available appendages to wrap himself around him.

“Dude, you know I don't swing that way.” Sehun wriggled out of his clutches, sobering up in under a second. He wasn't mad. He was never mad. But he was careful to be clear. Ever since he found out he was gay, he had been a tiny bit wary around him. Most people wouldn't even have noticed it, but Jongin did.

Sehun had very progressive, hippie parents, so he was accustomed to a lot of skinship. There was barely a moment when Sehun wasn't hugging him or holding his hand or some part of him. At first, Jongin had been very uncomfortable around him, but slowly he got used to it and now it felt weird if Sehun wasn't touching him in one way or another. He didn't realize how much he had changed, and how much he had started depending on Sehun, until he told him he was gay. They still hugged, but there was always a thin, invisible wall between them.

Sehun had been nothing but supportive. He didn't really care who he dated and was just happy to be rid of the competition where girls were concerned. He had even figured out how to use the fact that he was gay to his advantage. He started using Jongin as bait, flashing his shiny looks around to attract girls, much like a flame attracted moths, whilst Sehun lay in wait to catch them for himself. Sehun was under the illusion that Jongin was the ultimate ladykiller, and that he didn't stand a chance if he was being compared to him. He wasn't entirely wrong. The empirical evidence did suggest something along those lines, but Sehun's interpretation of them was a bit skewed. It was true that Jongin had always been popular with the girls, but Sehun grossly underestimated himself. Sehun did look a tiny bit goofy but in the handsomest way. The problem was actually not that he wasn't handsome enough, it was that he was too dashing. He was extra skinny and so pale it put vampires to shame, which was just what the girls liked. However, he had these fierce eyebrows and a resting angry face, making him look dashing but intimidating, so most of the girls were afraid to approach him.

But the fact remained that their friendship hadn't been the same since Jongin came out to him. It was like Sehun was afraid that he would suddenly fall for him, being careful not to create any opportunities for misunderstandings.

“Ya! You know I don't like you like that!” Jongin objected, not for the first time and probably not the last either. He meant it, too. They were best friends. Jongin would much rather have him as a life-long precious friend than a momentary fling. He had just come to like skinship but wasn't comfortable enough to do it freely with anyone but Sehun.

Jongin held his breath as he opened the door as slowly and softly as humanly possible, wishing he hadn't drunk so much when his senses failed him, the door accidentally slamming into the wall with the accompanying ruckus. He sighed with disappointment and counted.

One.

Two.

“Kim Jongin!! Have you any idea what time it is?!”.

It was scolding time, apparently. He had expected as much.

“Ah, you reek of alcohol! That scrawny city friend of yours is nothing but trouble!” his mother sighed and shook her head in defeat as she helped him take his jacket off. His mother actually knew Sehun well and was quite fond of him most of the time, but every time they got into trouble he became 'that scrawny city boy', as if he was some hooligan she had never met.

“I'll ignore it this once, we've got more important stuff to discuss. Your principal called.” she said sternly as she dragged him into the living room. His father was sitting there with his arms crossed. He never crossed his arms unless it was serious. Jongin's stomach churned, wanting to return all the alcohol it had consumed. He felt helpless. It was his life, but he didn't have the slightest control over it. He was a prisoner. He never asked for these powers. He didn't want them. And most of all, he didn't want his life to be controlled by them.