Cluster of emotions: if only everyone knew.

What in the world is wrong with Kim Myungsoo?

Set that aside.

Most importantly - what the heck is wrong with me? Confusing. I hate and definitely harbor dislike for having to experience that ambiguous feeling. That feeling where you wouldn’t want to give a care about someone, just to find yourself hovering around, planting fragments of the littlest things that you think shape them, in your mind. Just these little things were strong enough to ruin my head.

I felt like he had betrayed Niel’s act of comfort (my way of comfort as a dude) and here he is, trying to talk to some random soccer girl whom he has just met, who has absolutely no interest in engaging a solid conversation with him.

As much as I hate to admit, I was trying to understand Kim Myungsoo. He ditched Park Niel and right now, he’s trying to be nice to me, the skull-headed, Park In-Na. Flawed, we are two individuals somewhat conflicted. He was cold, I too, have been holding onto this frigid image. I mean - I have no rights to blame him when I have been the one, riled up in this tangled mess. He shouldn’t know that I have been there for him – that night where he had undergone that emotional breakdown. He shouldn’t know that I tried, as Park Niel to understand, put some sense and comfort into him.

Nonetheless, I have withered. My tough badass cover has just thinned, allowing him to read through me. If there were flaws to pinpoint towards, I would have that set against Myungsoo and I. We were finding routes to escape, soccer being our solution from reality.

In all, we are messed up, in all ways it could be strewn about.

Life, couldn’t it get even more complicated?

He let out a faint sigh, defeated by my counter-attack. “You’re a strange little one Park In-Na-ssi. You’re not fond of answering questions, aren’t you?”

“Good, you’ve just learned a new fact about yours truly,” I retorted with a smirk fleeting across my face. I aimed for the goalpost, running diagonally to score. My footwork in place and was more than prepared to curl the ball. Myungsoo caught it swiftly, to my dismay. I scowled. My face clasped with a look of dejection.

“Questions, answers and score?” he initiated, passing the ball back to me.

“That will work, I guess?” I replied nonchalantly.

In my utter disbelief, I’ve casually agreed to his idea of a two player passing drill, where we will ask one another questions amidst passing the soccer ball. As much as I hate to say this, something must be wrong with me.

I questioned, dribbling the ball towards him, “How long have you been dating Kim Jae Rin?”

“Last summer. We met during the soccer match against Seoul High. We sort of got together because she was kind of there to cheer on both teams. I would think it's fate.”

I grimaced. That wasn’t fate.

“In-Na ssi, why do you love soccer?”

“Because, it holds nothing against me.” I stated, simply.

“Why do you love soccer, Kim Myungsoo-ssi?”

“Because, I feel like I am being myself. It’s my significant other,” Myungsoo wore that look of content, gazing at the soccer ball in his hand. “Makes me feel complete.”

“Why are you here?” he questioned, trying to probe into the matter. “Besides training. Why are you here?” His lips twitched to a grin, knowing by now that I would definitely lace my words with armor. I guarded my heart. I kept the whole idea, covering them up with an air of mystery. He should never know about me being Park Niel.

“I-“ I faltered with my way around words. “I was supposed to meet Byunghun,” Those words slipped freely. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We are not dating or anything. It’s just that we were supposed to get supper together. He wanted to get supper, and he called me in.”

Holy crap.

“Byunghun?” His eyebrows plucked in curiosity. “Who’s that?”

“L.Joe. He’s a transferred student for a whole semester,” I stayed in this dire position. I was on the verge of slapping my mind for coming up with such a ridiculous excuse. Kill me. Mentally stabbing myself.

“So, before meeting up for supper, you decided to play soccer?” That glint of humor playing in his eyes. “Very passionate.”

He looked around the street soccer court, probably waiting for Byunghun to make appearance. “Is he late?”

“Very late,” I responded, hiding the panic in my tone.

“So, you’re not dating L.Joe?”

“I didn’t ask deeper about your personal life,” I aimed straight for