A/N: Thank you! And I should rate this story "M," shouldn't I? Anyways, enjoy! I hoped I toned down my vocabulary? :)

I shook my head, wishing the nightmare away. I berate myself for thinking about him when I probably even haven’t drifted within his mind once. Yet Byun Baekhyun remains, flashes of his ovular head, his cocky smile, the smooth cheekbones of his milky white face.

I continue driving, my hands gripping the steering wheel until the whiteness of my knuckles appear. I try to ignore everything that had to include the name Baekhyun, keeping my mind as bombastic as possible in order to conceive other topics to distract me.

My house finally came into view and I park into the driveway, where both my parents’ cars are missing. Grabbing my backpack and opening the door to my home, I find myself alone and enveloped in silence. It was unbearable in the nearing darkness, memories sweeping in despite my efforts.

I pull out my phone and call Sooyeon.

“Hey, can I sleepover tonight?”

As I run on my way out after stuffing my duffle bag, my mom agrees to my plan and offers to drive me. I know why. So she can leave the vicinity my dad was in and search for a few minutes of peace.

I pull my pajamas over my head after showering and throw myself into Sooyeon’s large and extremely warm bed. Apparently, Sooyeon’s blankets, which were bought when her mother traveled to China, were stuffed with feathers. And they definitely made you feel weightless.

I always considered Sooyeon rich, especially in comparison to my life. Sure I had a nice home, enough resources, money to spend when needed. But Sooyeon had excess money. Her father was a family doctor and her mother was a college professor and together, their earnings were quite impressive.

Sooyeon stared at me, reading a magazine with SHINee on the cover. Her hazel eyes always seemed to reveal her concern for me and today wasn’t an exception. Her pupils were framed with worry, but she knew not to put her questions to her lips. I didn’t feel like answering any of them. Especially if they were about Min’s older brother. I didn’t want to think about him anymore.

“So, are you doing Ms. Kim’s project thing?” I asked, plastering a bright smile on my face.

Sooyeon was distracted by that and leaned forward, swinging her legs behind her, head propped on her hands. “Yeah. Guess who my partner is.”

I knew Sooyeon had a minor crush on Taecyeon, a boy known for his flirtatiously good looks, slightly dark skin, and worthy abs. Kim Taecyeon sounds exactly like someone else I knew.

“Who? Is it Taecyeon or what?” I asked, grinning.

“Yeah,” she said sheepishly. “Who’s yours?”

“I don’t want to mention that manwhore.”

Sooyeon’s eyes popped, petite button lips gaping. She didn’t have to be surprised because it was bound to occur anyways. And I didn’t understand how Sooyeon and Min were blessed with such pretty looks while I had to be stuck with the ugly duckling position of the group. She even managed to look pretty as she gently massaged a face mask on full of squishy liquids produced by Japan.

“You’re paired with freaking Kai?” she said, squealing a bit before containing herself and putting on a serious face. But I probably knew she was ecstatic. He was quite gorgeous after all. And most likely, smarter than he let on.

“Yeah. And don’t act all happy about it.”

“Why not? And you still haven’t told me how he kissed.”

“Well after that one, I wouldn’t kiss him again.”

Sooyeon laughed. It felt satisfying to be thinking of other things, to be joking with friends, to be careless. To be breathless. I remembered pranking our teachers and laughing to the point of cruel stomachaches, leaving her house at night in the seventh grade to sneak to the local twenty-four hour pharmacy to buy ice cream, pushing each other hard on the swing until I fell off and broke my arm. Why did everything have to complicate itself upon entering the ninth grade? If only the entirety of my life could remain as it did before.

Because Sooyeon didn’t have a car, we had decided to walk the way to school, avoiding the bus to all measures. As we made our way to the hellhole, the freezing air bit our faces. I never minded the cold because I was always in my car, but now I realized how baneful it was as we continued our trek.

“Can I ask you something?” Sooyeon muttered, directing her gaze on the sidewalk. I dreaded the moment she finally asked this question.

“If it’s about him I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quietly, exhaling in puffs.

“Come on _____, it’s okay to tell me. I know. You don’t have to bottle everything up.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want to discuss things at the moment.”

But knowing Sooyeon, her persistence continued. “Look, don’t dwell over Baekhyun. He’s not worth it. Myunghee’s a and he’s a ing jerk.”

“Yeah, I know,” I mumbled under my breath.

“I’m sorry that he had to be such an . And more than anything, I want to beat him up for you.”

I grinned slightly, biting my bottom lip. “Thanks. If any boy broke your pretty little heart too, I’ll smack them across the face.”

Sooyeon grinned and I did feel a bit better. But what did that do if I still had to deal with the prospect of seeing his face again? His almond shaped eyes, dark chocolate pupils tinted with the slightest hazel, side-swept hair, his charming smile? I knew for sure that Min was going to invite Sooyeon and I to the wedding. How could I stand that? Donned in an ill-fitting dress, tight thin-lipped smile glued permanently, my fragile soul cracking at the edges.

When we finally arrived to school, Sooyeon pulled me in for a quick hug. “You don’t have to hold everything in _____. We all love you.”

I sighed and beamed at her falsely. “I love you too .”

Sooyeon skipped off to class and I watched her as Taecyeon pulled her aside, whispering in her ear before he let her go. I knew that her pale, smooth cheeks were blushing a rose shade of pink at this moment. If anyone else could be joyful, better Jung Sooyeon than me. She turned and waved to me once before discreetly pointing at Taecyeon, who resumed chatting with his friend. I nodded, signaling that I had witnessed their moment and she continued to run off.

“Good morning dear _____,” someone breathed into my ear. I spun around to find the ever-towering, ever-handsome Kai smirking at me. Gray backpack slung over his broad shoulders, two large textbooks propped against his arm. He was dressed in a nice-fitting gray T-shirt, and an aura of brightness seemed to surround him.

“It’s not so good that you’re here now,” I say, heading toward my locker and knowing that he was trailing behind me. I just wish I could kick him and see if he would continue to follow dutifully.

“Aw, why so down?” he said smugly, leaning against the wall as I twisted my dial. 12-6-1. I tried to concentrate on those three numbers as I twirled and pulled hard on my lock. I failed on the first try.

“Are you that distracted by me?” Kai said, laughing aloud.

“How are you that funny?” I asked, frowning as I attempted my second trial and opened my locker to grab my English book. I quickly changed the subject to avoid another witty retort that would result in my backfire, a constant war of words. “Have you decided what book you want to an-a-lyze,” I said, stretching the last word into three syllables. “I’m thinking about The Scarlet Letter.”

“You want to an-a-lyze adultery?” he asked, mocking the way I dragged the word.

“What, like you haven’t committed it before? I thought I saw a red A on your shirt once. I thought you moved on to … you know, older women,” I say.

A flash of … I don’t know, hurt? surprise? shock? passes his face and vanishes in a second. I felt guilt well up within me but I let it go. Why should I express sympathy for him?

“Well, I’m not that gangster,” he declares. He laughs again, but I can hear the fake jovialness in it.

“Then, do you have any other better book?”

“How about The Giving Tree. I love that book.”

“Yeah. Go try that with a kindergartener.”

“It’s a classic for all ages,” he exclaims as if reciting by memory.

“As in ages two to six,” I retort. “Perfect for you.”

“I can’t believe that you’re criticizing such a masterpiece.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry for that. Plus, the author’s portrait on the back cover scares the out of me,” I say, shrugging before heading off to Mrs. Kim, Kai laughing behind me and sauntering in his cocky manner.

Once we arrive, the bell rings and Mrs. Kim decides to give us the entire period to work on our novel analyzation. I sigh, exasperated as Kai slaps his AP English book down on the table. He proceeds to sit down and talk about Shel Silverstein and his children’s classic.

“You know, you’re right. His picture does give me the creeps,” he says, more to himself than me.

I lament my misfortune.

After school, I walk home against the relentless wind, letting the weather distract me from my sorrows. At four p.m., Kai would drive down this suburban middle-class neighborhood in his sleek red Porsche, much more different compared to his grand estate. He would scorn to himself and I would be cheerful that he did.

I push myself up my drive, finding that my dad’s car was parked there along with mine. He was supposed to be at work … I wonder what mishap led him to call in sick. He did enjoy his job, repairing and examining computers daily.

I stuff my key in hurriedly, opening the door and walking down the foyer to the living room, planning to greet my parents like I did daily. Instead I find the living room strewn with our furniture, coffee table overturned, empty cans of beer, fragments of sharp glass littered across the carpet. My dad slept soundly on the couch, breathing steadily.

I’ve seen my father drunk on some moments, after a party, or on other rare occasions. He usually restrained himself from intoxicating himself too much. But he clearly went past the boundaries today. I didn’t even want to deal with this anymore. I felt the tears well around the rim of my eyes, but I choked them back, refusing to let them spill because if I allowed myself to break down and sob, I probably wouldn’t stop.

Seriously. this . I prepare to grab the broom when I spot a stack of papers on the usually spotless dining table. I pick it up, scanning the words.

My mom filed for divorce.

I let a tear roll down my cheek.

My cell phone suddenly buzzes and rings in my pocket and I pick it up, answering with a weakened “Hello?”

“Hello _____,” Kai said on the other end. “I’m gonna come over now.”

I turn back to look at the living room, look at my dad sleeping off a hangover, look at the shards of glass. I didn’t have time for this. “No! It’s okay. I’ll go to your house.”

Kai begins to ask why and I cut him off immediately, asking him for his address. I hang up right after and jump into my car, bolting to his home on the other side of town. I felt anxious and miserable about my father, about the divorce papers, as I continued to drive on.

There’s always this stereotypical house in a neighborhood that is clearly better than all others. Kai’s home is of such criteria. As I pull up on the drive, I observe the marble fountain with sculpted angers spouting water. His driveway was long, ending before a large garage. But the true capturer of my attention was how wonderful his house was constructed. This one particular house always was so appealing, but one person residing in it wasn’t as much. It was obviously made of money, delivering the message that their house was much more exquisite than their neighbors.

I climb out of my car and gripping my AP English book in my hand, I climb the steps and ring the doorbell. I can hear the jingle resonate throughout the large house.

The French doors open to reveal Kai leaning against the door frame, now dressed in a plaid red flannel and loose jeans. And he was barefoot. “Welcome _____,” he says, gesturing for me to enter. He had an annoyingly confident grin and his arms were folded across his broad chest.

“Let’s just do this.” I kick my shoes out the door and rush past him. God, his home is really huge. I glance into the living room and see an extravagant flat-screen, leather couches bought from the best European crafters, shelves of classic books, grand fireplaces with false fires going. I glance back and Kai looks at me with an amused smile before following.

“Shouldn’t I be the one leading since this is my house?”

I shrug and I follow him up the whitewashed stairs, light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I assumed we were going to his room as we continued on our path. I take a quick look at the long bathrooms, hand-stitched paintings and other objects that only the wealthy could afford. On the third floor, we entered his room. And it was larger than my living room. His walls were a light gray and he was lucky enough to have a balcony. His large king-sized bed was unmade, a marble fireplace with a warm, fake fire blazing and I noticed another flat-screen TV mounted on his wall.

I sit down on a chair by a desk with an Apple computer and a few books scattered on it. My father and mother enveloped my mind again. A divorce? Could they really separate? Who would I live with?

“Hey, are you okay _____? You’re sorta staring off,” he says. I breathe, not registering any word he says. My parents aren’t really going to part, are they? Just over some petty arguments? I blink as he nears, concern etched on his face.

“Er, earth to _____.”

Before I could respond or consider my actions, I grab his arm and pull his face down to mine. He looks surprised, eyes widened and he flinched. “Please don’t hit me again _____.”

“Oh, shut up,” I say before pressing my lips onto his. And what shocked me was that he didn’t even react as he did before, but his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me closer. Emptiness took over and all thoughts of my parents and their relationship disappeared. It was a constant battle of power, his lips against mine, my lips against his. His hands ran through my tangled hair and I felt so high, so wiped of emotions.

I wanted to stop. I could have shoved him away and slapped him again. I could have forgotten all about this. I could have told Mrs. Kim I wanted a different partner.

Kai was a varmint and a manwhore. I hated him. A lot. But he was what I needed to forget.

I kissed him even harder.