4. Polar Bears?

Han Geng wasn’t familiar with figures outside Hanyoung’s delinquent circle. It was a surprise that he knew any of them at all. Heechul was a like piece of pigeon that sailed, against all odds, onto Han Geng’s unfortunate (and Donghae was the pigeon that shat him). Heechul’s world orbited around destroying Donghae, and Han Geng happened to be his weapon of choice for some mysterious reason. Han Geng couldn’t figure Heechul out, and he didn’t quite want to, because the only person who did, Cho Kyuhyun, looked like a hobo with an MIT degree. Han Geng would shoot himself in the face before spending life labeled as The Grudge^TM’s little brother; his face was much too precious for such a defamation.

Between Siwon and Yesung, respectively the student body president and the school paper’s chief editor, Han Geng never figured out who was who. He’d seen the two of them before, but they were always glued at the hips and stuck to Donghae like flies to cow dung. Heechul had ed about Yesung once, when his gossip column was cut from the school paper; something about a stupid-looking guy with a stupid-looking haircut and the world’s most obnoxious voice.

Han Geng currently concluded that the guy standing before him had a stupid-looking haircut and a stupid-looking face and a pretty damned obnoxious shriek. It was definitely Yesung. But Yesung was taller than he expected…

“I’m sorry. Please. I’m sorry. Please. I don’t have that much money on—” Yesung began, hurriedly retrieving a wallet from his backpack, but Han Geng slapped the wallet out of the boy’s hand, “You silly thing. My time is priceless.”

“I’m sorry.”

The Chinese was quite a laidback personality (probably because Heechul’s constant ing and Hyukjae’s unsupportive snarking wore out whatever flair he had left), but his daily allotment of patience had been spent on all sorts of oddities already. First Heechul threatened him to take Hyukjae into this prep party that he had no intention of attending. Then he had to go to said party, which proved to be more than an obstacle with his lackey running off into cars and vanishing and not coming back. And now a giant, buffed up piece of stupidity had gotten into his way and was not exiting the out.

“I’m sorry!”

“Scram.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Are you deaf? I said get out of my way!”

“I’m sorry!” Yesung seemed to have been scared out of his wits and was stuck on repeat. Han Geng moaned and dropped his bike, about to beat some sense back into the kid before he saw something glossy poking out of the boy’s bag. Instead of attaching onto Yesung’s face, his knuckles made a detour for the object.

Han Geng’s eyes glittered. It was the limited time edition of Ichigo ! He’d spent all his money buying his newest leather jacket and was thirty thousand won short of the shipping fee from Japan. He smoothed his fingers over the cover and shivered at the sleek, cool skin. Oh god, the queen of all novels was right beneath his fingertips.

The Chinese grinned sheepishly, looking back up at Yesung. The taller boy was quivering uncontrollably and trying to stop himself with his massive brows folded together, “Yah, you still alive there?”

“Um. Um, I’m sorry!” Yesung barked. Han Geng scoffed and yanked the book out of his bag, “Is it that good an idea for kids like you to read these things? Don’t you feel remotely guilty towards your parents? Yourself? Society? Humanity? Your country? The world? God? Polar bears? Yah!”

“I’m sorry!”

Han Geng gave Yesung a pat on the cheek. The boy stumbled a few steps back and finally seemed to regain consciousness. Han Geng put on his friendliest face as he threw his arm around the boy’s shoulder, “Now, now. Don’t look so afraid. I’m a good guy. I’ll keep this secret for you. I’ll even help you out.”

Han Geng slid the book into his own backpack and pressed his lips onto Yesung’s earlobe, “Give me the whole collection by next Thursday. It’ll be win-win for you, won’t it? You’ll get to quit this disgusting addiction, and my little pal, Heechul, who really doesn’t like you, won’t have any proof for his nasty rumors… yes?”

Yesung nodded vaguely, looking hesitant and confused. His massive brows were pressed together, spelling pathetic all over. Han Geng chuckled and gave him a hearty pat on the back, “You’re a great friend, Yesung, aren’t you?”

The boy arched a brow and began to say something, but Han Geng was in too good a mood to get interrupted. The Chinese wheeled Yesung towards Donghae’s mansion, an arm around his shoulder and a wink in his eye. Han Geng should really have let the guy interrupt him, though, because at least then he would’ve found that the boy wasn’t actually Yesung.

--

Cho Kyuhyun looked over his sister’s shoulder, “That’s pretty graphic, Jessica…”

“God, go away! And it’s noona. Noona!” Jessica screamed, nudging Kyuhyun away with as she stuffed her face back in the screen. Kyuhyun sniffed, fingers rubbing his chin. He’d heard about DBSK fanfiction being rated before, but this was hard-core . This possibly beat the that Donghae read. He felt kind of sorry for Yunho and Jaejoong, whoever they are, for having disturbing fans like—

Kyuhyun snickered, suddenly realizing the potential of this idea. He tapped the older girl on the shoulder, “Listen, noona…”

Jessica shivered and froze. Kyuhyun never used honorifics without a reason. As much as she badgered him to do so, she didn’t really want him to. Kyuhyun calling her noona was like Satan calling her sweetheart. Kyuhyun’s breath steamed up her ear canal as he whispered, “But noo-o-o-na, you looked really good with Donghae, didn’t you? Gosh, why did you dump him again? Such a pity.”

“I dumped him because—because he just—he was annoying! Get out of my room, Kyuhyun!” Jessica stammered, immediately incensed because, in all reality, it was the other way around. Donghae had gotten sick of her after their first date and she was clinging onto him by the sleeve collars. He’d even started ing to pictures of another guy. Had she not jumped the dramatic break up a little earlier, she would’ve played the dumpee. And there was no way that Jessica, the Ice Queen, was going to be dumped by anyone. Not to mention, a . That would be an indignity. And Kim Heechul would be spitting all over her social grave. Blasphemy.

“But I’m just saying,” Kyuhyun leaned on her table, resting his cheek on his palm and his elbow on the neighboring bookcase, “Isn’t he a little bad for your pristine reputation, noona?”

“What do you mean, bad?”

Kyuhyun tapped her computer abstract-mindedly, “With the way Heechul’s sinking his fangs into Donghae, everyone’s gonna realize he’s gay sooner or later. And being his most recent girlfriend, you’ll end up taking the blame for Donghae turning—”

“Yah!”

“But if, you know, something really scandalous pops up,” Kyuhyun arched his brows and refused to meet Jessica’s prying gaze. He rapped his knuckles by her keyboard, smugness tugging at his lips, “Everyone would be too busy being scandalized to bother you, noona.”

Jessica was hooked. Kyuhyun knew. He added, eyeing the fanfiction window on her computer screen, “It’s only too bad that my picture doesn’t work anymore.”

With that said, Kyuhyun stretched and straightened up from the table, wandering out the room. He left the rest to Jessica. It was his way of doing things. Cho Kyuhyun never dabbled in anything himself; all he did was provide ideas—albeit bad ones—and watch for the ensuing catastrophes before providing more bad ideas. People were always too busy harping on about the catastrophes to realize that he had been at the source of it all.

In a way, it was self-preservation. Kyuhyun wasn’t like the other big characters in Hanyoung private. He wasn’t charismatic (Chinese fortune cookie), badass (strawberry-flavored traitor), sassy (ignorant drag-queen), good-looking (hypocritical Christian), irresistible (filthy rich hornball), or powerful (turtle-sporting ery). All he had was a high IQ and a smile that somehow attracted fists.

Back in middle school even the bullied ganged up on him and robbed him of his lunch money. He’d hung out a little with Hyukjae in seventh grade. Back then Hyukjae was also a loner, and despite their differences, Kyuhyun did Hyukjae’s homework and in return, Hyukjae chased away scavenging bullies. They flouted some sort of symbiotic relationship that was ultimately broken off when Hyukjae graduated.

Kyuhyun was left to suffer eighth grade alone. The delinquents had grown to despise him while Hyukjae was around because, alright, so he acted a little cocky. With Hyukjae gone, they descended upon Kyuhyun in the masses. Kyuhyun suffered a beating everyday and barely made it alive out of middle school. By the time he graduated, he’d taken on a shabbier appearance. Compared to a year ago, he looked like a completely different person. His hair was messier, his skin had grown paler, and he’d gotten scrawny and gangly and clumsy.

He hated Hyukjae for not recognizing him when he approached the older boy freshman year. Hyukjae was a sophomore already and had found himself a much cooler friend, who was Chinese and could pick a fight with anyone he damned well pleased. Apparently one Chinaman was all it took for Hyukjae to forget Kyuhyun. When Kyuhyun reminded him about their middle school camaraderie, Hyukjae stared at him as if he’d sprouted a pair of horns, “Who are you?”

“Cho Kyuhyun!” Kyuhyun yelled, trying to avoid the ball of stray fists that Hyukjae had been rolling in. The blonde was fighting in what seemed to be a seven-against-one. Kyuhyun slightly hated himself for not lending his old friend a hand, but comforted himself with the thought that he wasn’t required to volunteer. He’d just be trouble.

Hyukjae tossed his backpack at the gang of mean-looking punks, grabbed Kyuhyun’s wrist, and dragged Kyuhyun in an unsteady dash. Kyuhyun could barely make out Hyukjae’s words with all the shouting behind them. He yelled for Hyukjae to repeat. Hyukjae did, “Cho what?”

Kyuhyun regretted asking. His heart was slightly broken.

“Cho! Kyu! Hyun! I used to do your math—” Kyuhyun gasped for air; he hadn’t ran longer than the distance between his bed and his laptop in his entire life, but Hyukjae seemed to have grown used to marathoning in the one year that they’d separated. Kyuhyun was surprised he wasn’t tripping over his own two feet, “—homework! In—“

“Awesome,” Hyukjae wasn’t listening. He shoved Kyuhyun into an alley and tossed a gummy smile after him, “See you later!”

They never saw each other again. Kyuhyun was afraid to approach Hyukjae’s circle, which seemed to have been made up of bloodthirsty beasts. Freshman year was almost as bad as middle school. Kyuhyun considered dropping out until one brilliant day in the middle of sophomore year, God sent Donghae’s butler to his parent’s computer shop.

The old man asked them to fix the broken screen and Kyuhyun spotted his opportunity. He offered an additional virus scan and hacked into Donghae’s email. It was there that he learned of Heechul’s unrequited love for Choi Siwon and Donghae’s repressed attraction towards Hyukjae. Using the bits and pieces of information from Donghae’s laptop, Kyuhyun was able to slowly work himself into Heechul’s one-man act.

When Kyuhyun poked the first hornet’s nest, the results were just as he’d expected. All those drama-mongering morons went the other way, too busy to gossip about Donghae and Heechul and Siwon to gang up on him. Life had been treating him well since then. Heechul and rumors were a virtual invisibility cloak for Kyuhyun. He’d even grown a little addicted to the high. Manipulating people was fun. Making them suffer and rejoice and suffer more was the ultimate delight.

Kyuhyun thought of himself as a mastermind. A witty, awesome one with an excellent sense of humor and fashionable glasses that everyone, including that Chinese--who-stole-his-only-friend, insisted looked like . Maybe they did look a little…

The brunette barely made it into the bedroom before his cell rang. He glanced over the Caller ID and grinned. Things were panning out just as he’d figured. He picked up with maniac laughter in his voice, “So Heechul, found it?”

“FOUND WHAT, YOU ING ? CHO KYUHYUN, GET YOUR DOWN HERE AND LEMME IIINN—” Heechul burst into possibly the longest shriek-wail-sob that Kyuhyun had ever been privy to, “FWIBBIN-HEWP-HYYUUNG-YOU-BATARD!”

Kyuhyun pulled the phone away from his ear and frowned, “What happened?”

Kyuhyun knew exactly what happened. happened, that’s what.

--

“I’m going to tell everyone south of the North Korean border!” Heechul shrieked, hands on his hips, ripping apart his fifth tissue box. His life was so ing ! ! God must have been smiting him since the day he was born. His drama-queen self had never gotten any good pieces, and when he finally did, he was beaten into a pulp by that savage bastard Lee Hyuk—

“OW!” Heechul jumped. Kyuhyun barely flinched as he dumped some more foamy stuff onto his arm, “Hold still, Heechul.”

“How am I supposed to go to school tomorrow? I look like I’ve been gang ! Is my leg broken? I’m pretty sure it’s broken! Oh god, what if I have to stay in a wheel chair for the rest of my life? My beautiful legs bound to a wheelchair! To a ing wheelchair! By god, they’re so ing ugly! I can’t have those ty metal things on me forever! I’m ed! I’ve been spiritually !”

“…not a bad status update.” The little nitwit quipped. Heechul butted him down with his only uninjured limb, which was his forehead. Donghae had told Eunhyuk to at least spare his face, because it would be demonic to do otherwise. Heechul had to admit that he was a little thankful to the seven-timing prick, but it was still Donghae’s fault that he got into the mess in the first place. How dare he let Eunhyuk hit him like that? They’d been frenemies forever! How could a frenemy do that to another? They were so over! Over!

“I’m going to demolish the two of them!” Heechul barked, “Kyuhyun! Phone!”

The other brunette obeyed quickly, tossing Heechul his blackberry with enthusiasm. Heechul pressed for speed dial one. It took Han Geng one ring longer than the time Heechul had allowed him to pick up, but Heechul was in too crappy a mood to care, “Yah fried rice! Do you have any idea what your ing—”

“Uunn, Han Geng-sshi, you’re so he...avy…come on, answer your phone...”

Heechul suddenly fell silent at the weird moan (was it a moan? a purr? panting?) thing that came out of the other end. The diva peeled the phone off his cheek and rechecked the number with squinted eyes. It was definitely Han Geng’s phone. The brunette then put it against his ear again. The sound from the other end was unmistakable. It was Siwon’s voice, and Siwon was panting Han Geng’s name. Panting?

Panting! Siwon, his idol Siwon, panting for…

Heechul hung up immediately. His heart was in his stomach, the world was ending, blurring before his eyes, and Cho Kyuhyun looked as if he’d just ate a hanger.

“The are you smiling at?” Heechul whimpered, trying to hide his tears with anger. The younger boy wiped his smile off with a sigh of exasperation; he wrapped an arm around Heechul’s shoulder and pulled him into a weird, awkward hug.

Heechul felt his chest constricting. His face felt warm. He was confused. He was thinking of Siwon but his thoughts were all taged with Kyuhyun. Plus the brat smelled really good... Damn it. His second heartbreak in high school was just as bad and sudden as the first.

Kyuhyun loosened his grip. The smaller brunette changed his mind. No, wait. This wasn’t nearly as bad as the first. He wrapped his arms around Kyuhyun’s neck and refused to let him go, “Help me, you jackass…”

He felt Kyuhyun’s heartbeat on his cheek. No, no, not bad at all, maybe…

SNSD’s Sica invades! 8D No Super Generation pairings though. Sorry, don't ship. Also, sorry for the slightly angsty end. I don't like this chapter. So borin! LOL. Crack comedy coming back soon! Eunhae coming back soon!