xxvi. Know Nothing, Forget Everything

April 14^th. Tuesday. The day that comes after the dreaded Monday. Not exactly the middle of the week but not exactly the beginning either. Just, an in between. An ambiguous in between. An in between you felt stuck in on this Tuesday afternoon. This rainy Tuesday afternoon as you stared at your reflection in the girl’s bathroom mirror. Because you had school today. Because you had school most days. You were a high schooler dealing with problems bigger than high school. You were a high schooler who knew a lot more than she probably should have, and not about the core subjects taught to you Monday through Friday either.

There’s that saying that says when it rains, it pours. Unfortunate events come in large packages. Internal struggles are never easy to deal with. They just keep growing and growing and growing until splash.

Until you jump into that rain puddle, soaking yourself to the bone. Until you end up splashing your face with water in the girl’s bathroom, the warning bell having sounded long ago. Time was ticking down. You only had a limited amount of time to figure everything out.

To figure anything out.

To recap, you went over the information you had heard this morning. Firstly, the wolves’ surprise attack on the hunters failed, the only result being more hunters showing up in Springfield. Secondly, and this seemed to be good news at first, the hunters all left. Just like that, they all left as soon as they chased the wolves away. Thirdly, before the wolves  dispersed into the forest, the hunters promised something.

They’d be back.

As though they were the leading role in the Terminator movies. “They’ll be back,” you mumbled beneath your breath as you stared on at your image, droplets of water trailing down your brows, your eyelashes, your cheeks. Gathering collectively at the end of your chin. Dripping down onto the back of your hand soon after. That was that. That was all the information you had gathered from Myungsoo, Sungjong, Woohyun, Hoya, Sungyeol, and Dongwoo this morning.

And one more. One single drop more that slipped from the tip of your nose and hit the ceramic sink with a soft, twinkling sound.

They would be coming back on Graduation day. The day Woohyun, Hoya, and Dongwoo would be graduating, they’d be there to crash the party.

What else was there to figure out?

Everything.

And anything.

And you hadn’t expected your time limit to end so quickly, the reason you flinched at the sound of a ring vibrating from deep inside your jacket pocket. Your phone, not the school bell. You sighed as you gathered yourself, grabbing a paper towel to dry your face before checking your phone.

It was from someone you hadn’t heard from in a long while. In much too long of a while.

Jung Daeryong.

The message that displayed as you unlocked the touch screen was, “TMSG.” But, today, on this rainy, ambiguous Tuesday, you wanted to reply in same. That was the reason you threw away the paper towel in your hand before receding into the toilet stall that was the farthest away from the entrance of the bathroom.

After pressing a series of selections, you waited with your phone at your ear. It rang once, twice, three times the charm before he finally picked up. Except, just from the sound of the voice that spoke, that echoed through the bathroom, that thumped against your eardrum, you could tell it wasn’t him.

“Hyunjoo?”

“Soryong?” You spoke in question, not sure why he picked up Daeryong’s phone.

You would have asked had he not immediately followed up the call of his own name with a less than enthusiastic statement of, “Now’s not a good time.”

There was complete and utter silence on his side of the phone. Which meant there was not a single hint as to what it was that was currently bothering him. As to what was making now not a good time. You could have asked if something was wrong. You could have tried to guess what it was exactly. You could have even asked when a good time would be.

But, instead, you said something you didn’t fully register until it was out of your mouth. Until it rolled off of your tongue, the words let loose upon the world, upon his world, with no way to take them back. And as you comprehended them, you didn’t want to take them back.

“What can I do?”

What could you do, if anything? What could you do, if everything? Simply, what could you do to make it a good time? What could you do in your limited amount of time to make the bad disappear? To at the very least stall its approach?

He didn’t have an answer. All you heard was his light breathing on the other side, not a single word leaving him.

You called his name, wondering if he heard you. But, you were interrupted. As the first syllable of “Soryong” stuttered out of you, his own voice overpowered you.

His own voice rang out, like the bell signaling that your time had come to an end, “Cha Hakyeon.”

And you knew now what it was you had to do. What it is you could do. How would it help in the long run? Well, you’d just have to wait and find out. First things first though, you had somewhere to be afterschool today.

Your steps were light as you ascended the stairs. Your nerves were relaxed as you opened the large, wooden door. Your purpose was clear as you gave a nod of acknowledgement to the librarian who had long since become acquainted with you before returning there. There, to that table you sat at for over a week. That table he sat adjacent from you at, watching you for that entire length’s time.

Cha Hakyeon.

You had come here to see him, and just like you knew he would be, he was there. He was there, feathery silver haired now dyed red. A book in between his hands that he contently flipped the page of, as casual as could be. As natural as can be. As though he belonged there, even though he most certainly didn’t.

And when he felt you, when he must have felt a pair of eyes on him, he looked up. His eyes flickered, the light dancing across his irises as it always did. Dazzling you, entrancing you, as it always did. He closed his book, not caring to mark his place, due to the sight of you in front of him now, “Is this becoming our place now?”

While the urge to play along, to joke around with him, rose within you, you didn’t let it take over. You focused your thoughts, you focused your eyes, as you sat down in that same seat you had in the past, “Soryong said to talk to you.”

At the mere utterance of his name, Hakyeon’s expression went sour, his body leaning back against the wooden chair, his body slumping over just a bit, “The Enforcer said that?”

“He said you could help me help him.” You paused, unsure of your next words as much as you were when you first heard them pass through your phone’s speaker from Soryong’s mouth, “He said you could help me help my friends.” Questioning how Soryong was connected to the fifteen werewolves you knew would have to come later. Now, it was Cha Hakyeon who sat in front of you.

It was Cha Hakyeon you had to deal with.

“Oh, you’re asking me for a favor?” And that sour expression was gone, that usual smile of his stuck to his face like glue. That golden sheen flickered as he blinked, thick black mesh fluttering over blacker irises, “I can help you but, favors come with a price. Of course you would know that. You’re a smart girl. Which means you came to me for help knowing full well I would ask for something in return.”

“Then tell me what it is you want.”

His mouth hung open at that response, his back straightening up. However, his surprise was gone within the next second, “You’re not going to blindly agree to it first?” His lips turned into a genuinely impressed smile, “Have I ever told you how much I like you?”

You shook your head, “No, but you haven’t told me what it is that you want yet either.”

“Touché.”

And there he was, slumping over again. An action that caused you to bite down onto your lower lip. Because even now he stared on at you. Because even now in that leaned back position, he stared on at you. And that caused his already sultry, narrowed eyes to become hooded, shadows casting down upon his face in a way that seemed inhuman. In a way that was inhuman.

Beautifully so.

“Firstly,” he held out his palm, those eyes of his distracting you more than you would have liked as you still couldn’t look away from them. As you couldn’t even hear his next words, forcing him to have to repeat them once more.

 “Your phone, if you will.”

Late night. Popcorn. A comedy slipped into the DVD player. Laughter all around. Just another night with Ricky and Niel for you. Just another, normal night. Though, your life in Springfield was never normal, was it?

Ricky’s hand slipped by your own, digging into the popcorn bowl you had situated between your crossed legs as the three of you sat on the couch, you in the middle of the two boys. He grabbed a handful of the freshly popped kernels lathered with butter before chomping down, the palm of his hand forming a pseudo bowl.

Niel leaned back, settling further into the couch as his eyes remained trained on the television screen in front of you three. It was Ricky’s decision to watch a comedy. A bit odd, considering he usually picked an action movie. He had been whining about watching all the Iron Mans in succession after having seen the third one recently in theaters. But, he chose a comedy. And he proceeded to laugh as Chris Tucker chased Jackie Chan around; the latter attempting to escape from him, a steering wheel dangling from his wrist via handcuff.

Comedies were nice because of that. Because that made you laugh. Because they made Ricky laugh. Because they made Niel laugh. Because they made you forget for a second, for a few fleeting minutes, that you hadn’t just made a deal with the devil. You were smiling, two like expressions on both Niel’s and Ricky’s faces.

That is, until the inevitable ringing sound interrupted it all. It was your ringtone that blurred Chris Tucker’s next lines as Jackie Chan revealed that he could indeed speak English. You quickly got up, placing the popcorn bowl in Ricky’s lap instead, something he didn’t look too happy about as he mumbled a low, “Just leave it,” as you bounded off the couch.

You seized your phone from your purse, expecting it to be your mother. You had told her where you would be tonight but who knows, maybe she needed you home? Maybe Sunggyu needed you? Maybe Zico needed you? Whoever was calling, they needed you.

And that made “just leaving it” not an option. Once you saw who it was, however, you wished you had just left it. Because think of the devil and he’ll call. There was no point in not answering now though. Besides, you owed him. For what? Again, only time would tell.

“Hello?” You asked, your exasperation, your frustration at him, more than evident.

“Hello, how are you this fine night?”

“What do you want?” You questioned, glancing back at Niel and Ricky who had decided that the less than friendly sounding conversation you were having with the person on the other side of the line was much more interesting than Rush Hour antics.

“I’m just checking to see if the number works, is all.”

The fake disappointment in his voice made you inwardly sigh, “Well it works, I’m hanging up.” The last thing you wanted was to be questioned by Ricky and Niel about your latest “boy toy” – as Ricky would surely call him.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on now.” He repeated before silence followed. Silence as you waited. And waited. And waited. And you could almost see his victorious smile as he said in a rasping, teasing voice, “You held on.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, shooting a glare at it as though you were looking at the boy who spent his afternoons in the town’s library himself. Then, you turned to Ricky and Niel, who were waiting for an explanation of any kind. And you could only manage a pathetic, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

And just like that, you disappeared from the living room, walking outside in order to commence the most likely pointless phone call with the boy named Cha Hakyeon, leaving the two behind.

Ricky paused the movie as soon as the front door closed behind you. His smile from before was gone, nowhere to be found, as he turned to Niel at his side, “I talked to Sungyeol today.”

“Did you?” Niel absentmindedly responded, reaching over and pulling the popcorn bowl from Ricky’s lap.

“When I asked him about what he did with Hyunjoo yesterday, he just looked at me funny. Like he didn’t understand what I was saying. Like Hyunjoo wasn’t with them at all yesterday.”

As Ricky finished, all he got was the crunching of Niel’s jaw onto a handful of kernels. He leaned back, lifting his legs as he delivered a rough kick to Niel’s shoulder.

“Can you at least act like you’re concerned?” Ricky half-yelled, cautious of whether or not you could hear him from where you were outside, talking to whoever it was you were talking to – another unknown he didn’t like having to put up with.

“Hyunjoo knows what she’s doing.” Niel roughhoused him back, pushing Ricky’s legs off of the couch and shoving the popcorn bowl back into his lap. A few kernels fell from the bowl in the process, landing onto the carpet noiselessly, unknowingly, amidst the darkness.

Ricky took a deep breath, heaving such a long sigh that Niel would have made fun of him for it had the reason behind it been different, “I hope you’re right about that.”

“And,” Ricky dragged out that single syllable, his tongue pressing up against the roof of his mouth as he finished it off after around, though you hadn’t been counting so you could only guess, ten or so seconds, “those guys are gone with the wind.”

Two more weeks had passed since the werewolves returned from their less than successful surprise attack on the hunters. It was safe to say that they were training like mad men, or rather mad wolves, somewhere in the forest right about now. Knowing Zico, he’s probably making them do drill after drill after drill and Sunggyu is without a doubt supporting him in the venture. So, you definitely didn’t want to be one of them right now – not that you had at any point in time in the past.

“Just poof,” he widened his eyes as he looked around, mock astonishment on his face, “like Houdini, they disappear during the rigorous lunch hour into a puff of smoke. Never to be seen again. Until they show up right before the bell rings, that is. Where were they? What were they doing? If only we knew.”

“If only we knew.” You sang back to him, unpacking your lunch as natural as could be.

“You’re no fun.” Ricky slumped over, sulking like a child that didn’t get his way after asking if he could have the latest toy monster truck.

“I know nothing.”

Truth be told, you did know nothing. Anything you could tell him would all be hypothetical guesses, the percentage of each and every one being right just as high as the percentage of each and every one being wrong. Sunggyu and Zico were still gathering themselves, still trying to figure everything out. So, you had decided to stay out of it as long as possible. Until they willfully let you in on what they were doing, in on what they were thinking, you would remain quiet. You would continue to go to school completely oblivious as to what was happening outside the brick walls of Springfield High.

Besides, there was already enough action happening here already.

How so? Well, a certain pink loving princess and her Sunggyu adoring friend had decided to go against all the laws of high school that forbade girl enemies from ever becoming frenemies and talk to you just then.

“Hey, Hyunjoo. Can we have lunch with you today?” Yura gingerly set her school cafeteria purchased lunch down onto Niel’s desk, where Niel himself, Ricky, and you had congregated for the ensuing lunch period. “Is that okay?” She asked again, except this time, the question wasn’t directed towards you. It was a request asked of Niel, who eyes went so wide he looked like a fly freshly electrocuted on a bug zapper. Quite literally, his eyes bugged out. Instead of his jaw hanging open, he went tight-lipped, not saying a word as though he had sworn not to, zipped his lips, and thrown away the key.

And before Ricky could even begin to spew a handful of comments that would have resulted in his best friend’s utter embarrassment, you spoke first, “Sure. Pull up a chair and pop a squat.” You grinned widely at both the polite, much different from how she had been to you originally, Yura and the slightly unsure Minah whilst also sparing a soft stomp to Niel’s foot from underneath the desk.

Luckily, that was enough to knock him out of his shock-induced state. Unluckily, you couldn’t exactly go around kicking everyone in the room. The result? The eyes of numerous other students glanced into your direction, mumbling and whispering to themselves as though they were being secretive in the least. About what? Most likely about how the food chain was in the process of being disrupted. Two of the five most well known girls in school associated themselves with Song Hyunjoo, Ahn Daniel, and Yoo Changhyun during lunch time. How scandalous. How . How gripping for highschoolers such a gesture was.

And to think, you had been drugged multiple times, tied to a chair by the previous Mayor, gotten knocked out on more than one occasion, trained with used-to-be werewolf hunters, pointed a gun at a man dressed in all black, and, to top it off, you knew a group of fifteen werewolves.

Yet, here you were, experiencing the most interesting, riveting moments of your future memories: high school. Which reminded you how close you were, just one year away, from graduating. Which reminded you, the graduation of three certain werewolves who went by the names of Dongwoo, Hoya, and Woohyun was soon to occur. And along with that graduation ceremony would be the of all es – a fight of werewolf against hunter that was definitely more gripping than the fact that Bang Minah and Kim Ahyoung, aka Yura, decided to sit with you at lunch today.

Not even a second after Yura sat down, she caused awkwardness to replace the air of uncertainty that surrounded the five of you in the form of teenage onlookers, “Firstly, I want to apologize for how I acted towards you in the past, Hyunjoo. Specifically that time at the hospital. Jealousy drove me to it and while I can’t promise you it won’t happen again, I want you to know that my intention is not to be your enemy.” You blinked blankly, remembering what she was referring to but not in the least expecting an apology for it.

If she wasn’t your enemy, she couldn’t exactly be your frenemy either. Which meant, essentially, she just, in a roundabout way, asked to be your friend.

“Then I won’t forgive you and we can just let bygones be bygones.” You concluded, your smile unceasing. Yura wouldn’t apologize for how she acted towards you and you sure as hell weren’t going to either – since your response to her impoliteness only served to reciprocate her sentiment – so that was that. She still liked Sunggyu so she might just do it again.

Jealousy.

It’s a word you weren’t all too familiar with.

At least, in the way she was referring to it. In the connotation she gave it, you couldn’t sympathize with how she felt. And that, the fact that she had within her the opportunity to feel what all humans, all beings, should have the capacity to feel, you couldn’t help but be jealous of.

And you admired her for it.

Just like Minah turned out to be, Yura wasn’t so bad afterall.

“I didn’t expect you to. All is fair in love and war.” And with that she proceeded to open her lunch, her leg bumping against Niel’s own as Minah squished in between herself and Ricky. Ricky’s desk was crowded now, not that Niel minded in the least.

“So,” Ricky began, the smile on his face not even attempting to hide how amused he was with the way Niel’s mouth and body refused to budge a single inch with the object of his affection, Yura, at his side now, “who else is pissed about not getting Spring Break off this year?”

“We got an extra week of Winter Break off though.” Minah mumbled beneath her breath, not expecting Ricky to hear her. Unfortunately, he did. Unfortunately, he also didn’t harbor nearly as much dislike for her as he did in the past.

He nudged her shoulder with his own, invading her comfort zone. Her very own, very personal, space. Everybody needs a little breathing room, a fact that Ricky seemingly never learned in all of his seventeen years of existence. “Come on, though! I’ll have to wait until summer to go to the pool and see all the girls in their swimwear—”

Ricky was cut off by a quick kick to his shin by Niel who sat across from him. He normally didn’t talk like this, so vulgarly – even though the number of conversations over preference of underwear were numerous when with him. Which meant that he was trying to be funnier. And you didn’t realize why until you looked over to Niel who was practically seething, his eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his teeth clenching.

That’s when it clicked.

That’s when you pieced it all together. The choking and uncontrollable coughing whenever she would talk around him. The wide eyes and stiff body that he would exhibit even when she wasn’t saying anything at all.

Niel liked Yura.

Though “likes” would be a better verb to use, judging from the way he quickly tried to clean up the mess his best friend had just made.

“He’s joking.” Niel glanced at Yura, his head not turning towards her completely because if it did, their faces would be less than a foot apart from each other. And eye contact was enough to make Niel feel as though his entire being was set aflame.

It was a good thing Yura could take a joke. Yet another thing you could admire her for as a smile lit her face, “A whole week of bikinis, revealing outfits, and water play. In this freezing weather? I don’t know what girls you’re referring to but I’d love if you could point them out to me. That would be the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long while if it’s true.”

And Minah laughed. And Ricky invaded her personal bubble once more with an arm around her shoulders as he laughed along. And Niel couldn’t have hid his smile even if he tried. And you, after prying the boisterous Ricky off of Minah, liked the idea of becoming friends with Yura.

As for Minah, you had a feeling you had been friends for a long time now without even realizing it. How so? Well, if you were a book then she was a flier. Reading her was as easy as it was entertaining.  As the warning bell rung, Yura regretfully departed from Niel’s side to return to her own classroom, the regret felt by the latter much more than the former. But, before you could return to your seat, Minah stopped you.

“Could I talk to you for a second?”

Her slim, manicured fingers wrapped around your elbow, holding you back. And the look in her eyes already told you exactly what it was she wanted to talk about.

What did you admire Minah for? For the fact that she was so predictable when it came to one person in particular. For only one person in particular.

You had a reason to be here. To come here like this without even announcing yourself. To come without a hint or even a word that you were. It was like a secret that wasn’t a secret at all. And yet, you were left stunned at the person who opened the door after you had knocked. As though he had caught you in the act of being your usual, old, troublemaking self – at least, that’s what he called you out of affection multiple times in the past. At least, you hoped it had been affection.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, getting rid of the nonexistent lump that formed there. There and in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him: Kim Sunggyu. “You’re not working tonight?”

His left hand shifted into the pocket of his dark blue jeans, the fingers of the other stretching outwards slightly, conducting a motion you didn’t know the meaning behind, “I’m taking a few days off.”

You nodded, having heard him clearly despite how distracted you were, for whatever reason. Maybe because it had been so long since you had seen him. To be exact, it had been fifteen days. More than two weeks of no Kim Sunggyu. He didn’t attend school like the others, after all. And lately, schoolwork had you studying at home without the time to pay the Snack N’ Go a visit. The dramas of high school work in mysterious ways then, considering it was taking you away from the biggest source of its drama in the first place: your not so ex-boyfriend, Kim Sunggyu.

“Oh, okay.”

That same right hand of his twitched, trembled even, before he reached back, settling his fingertips along the wooden surface of the door. He stepped aside, the corners of his lips mimicking the stutter of his right hand, “Want to come in?”

And that’s when your secret didn’t feel like a secret anymore. That’s when you visibly sighed, ducking past him as a relieved, “Yes, please,” escaped your lips. You could have sworn you heard the sound of his laugh from behind you. You would have been one hundred percent sure had he not closed the door at the same time the snicker rang through the air, drumming against your exposed ears.

You raised your hands up to your ears, covering them up with your hair as if on reflex. Two weeks without hearing his voice seemed as though it wasn’t exactly all too good for you in the long run.

He was at your side in less than a second’s time, his stride just a bit quicker than your own as he guided you down the hall towards what you knew to be the kitchen. Which meant it must have been where either one or more of the other werewolves was currently at. Before you could exit the foyer and continue on to the kitchen, you posed a normal question to open any normal conversation.

At least, it was supposed to stay normal.

“Have you guys been really busy?”

“Yeah.” His right hand stuffed itself into his pocket just then, an action you paid attention to without knowing why. You hummed in response, though what followed was a conversation filler, a clear indication you had something to say but hesitated. Hesitation he noticed and pointed out without missing a beat.

“Umm, what?” He mimicked the noise you had just made as he used his lead in stride against you, pivoting on his heel to face you and stop you from exiting the foyer as the two of you had intended to, as the two of you would have, had you only kept your little noises to yourself. Noises you were cursing at yourself for for ever developing a habit to make as he stared at you with those naturally narrowed eyes of his.

“Umm, it’s just—” You couldn’t exactly escape Sunggyu’s interrogation now. You just didn’t know how to arrange your thoughts so that they didn’t come out as sappy sounding as they did when they originally flitted through your head.

“Umm, it’s just, what?” He grilled you for an answer, his head cocking to the right, his hands still in his pockets as he leaned forward. As though examining you closer would somehow make you more willing and all of this less embarrassing.

You gave up, drawing your eyes away from him as a huff puffed out of your lips, “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you, you know?”

“I know.” Was his immediate answer. Followed by a rather expectant sounding, “And?”

“And what?” You looked to him again, regret over doing so burning you like a wildfire in a forest. You didn’t like that gleam in his eyes. That shimmer that caused the burning to rise to your face. You side-stepped, looking to move past him, only to be blocked as he stepped in front of you. Again, you tried. Again, you failed. Again, you tried. Again, you failed. You couldn’t get away. You were trapped by him. Stuck until you decided to finally do what that hesitant conversation filler had secretly whispered to you while he was looking. While he was staring right at you. And the corner of his lips only seemed to rise even higher.

Higher and higher and higher until his smile came to full fruition on his face as his next sentence left his pink-tinted lips, “And, what are you going to do about that?”

Like the fire could only be stopped by him and him alone, you quickly s your arms around his torso, squeezing gently with the utmost of care. He wouldn’t have felt any pain even if you attempted to give him a bear hug but that’s not why you acted with timidity when it came to your gesture. He simply felt fragile. The idea of him. Him, himself. If you squeezed too hard, he might just break until he was nothing but a weary voice recorded on your voicemail.

You let your fingers spread outwards, stretching along the broad expanse of his back, before pulling away just as quickly as you rushed in. You averted your eyes and quickly tried once more to shift past him. And this time, you succeeded. While walking with shuffling steps to the kitchen, trying to escape the inescapable, you heard Sunggyu’s own footsteps echo your own.

Poised. Comfortable. Almost giddy. As though he had a skip in his step. You wouldn’t be able to confirm this speculation as you refused to turn around, even when you plopped down into the seat at the kitchen island, a rather confused looking Hoya greeting you.

“Why is your face like that?” He noted, leaning against the tiled countertop with pursed lips, “Is something wrong?” He reached out, curling a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand brushing against your cheek bone as he retracted it back again, his eyes scanning your face. Reading your face. Reading you like a book, as he usually did. “Something happened.”

It wasn’t a question, but you still felt the need to pretend that it was. That he was wrong even though you knew he wasn’t, “Nothing happened.” Everything just happened.

And as Hoya turned to Sunggyu about to ask the same question, he got the same answer, “Nothing happened.” In all actuality however, it didn’t seem like nothing considering the smile on the werewolf’s face that seemed to be plastered there with super glue.

“Okay, then. Nothing happened.” Hoya repeated, throwing a knowing smile your way before turning on his heel to face the sink again. He resumed the task he had been doing before you entered with Sunggyu – the task apparently being dish washing.

“So,” you wistfully spun around in your chair once in an attempt to cool yourself off, not missing the amused looked Sunggyu was giving you as you did so, “someone’s graduating soon. June, I think?” Hoya managed at laugh at your playful tone, his shoulders shrugging as he rinsed the suds off of the bowl in his hands before placing it in the drying rack at his side.

“Would those ‘someones’ go by the name of Dongwoo, Woohyun, and Hoya?” He mused out loud, pretending to be talking to himself.

“It’s like you can read my mind.” You joked back, earning another laugh from him due to how true that statement seemed to be. You decided you might as well ask now, since the topic was brought up in such a lighthearted manner, “Have you applied anywhere?”

He understood your question without you having to rephrase it or even make an attempt to specify it in the least, “There’s a university in the next town over. It’s only about an hour away by car. Which means I’ll be able to make it there in fifteen to twenty minutes depending on the weather.”

The benefits of being a werewolf indeed stretched into infinity and beyond.

“Woohyun is going with me too. So, I’ll have to add another five or ten minutes to that time due to his ability to get lost when he’s not paying attention.” Hoya sighed, his shoulders sagging this time, his muscles un-tensing as his frame seemed to extend outwards due to his motion, “Which is most of the time.”

You waited for him to continue, eager to hear about the last werewolf who would be graduating this upcoming June. But, he didn’t. He stopped there, the sound of rushing water filling the room. You wouldn’t be Song Hyunjoo if you simply let his silence slide.

“And what about Dongwoo?”

It took him a moment to answer you, but he did. “He was accepted just like Woohyun and I but,” Hoya paused, another, less mirthful sigh escaping his lips, “he’s sitting out a year.”

“A semester.” Sunggyu corrected him, causing you to turn to him. Causing him to clarify again, “Just one semester.”

Before you could even ask why, Hoya elaborated, “Dongwoo wants to stay back in Springfield with Sunggyu. This upcoming year isn’t looking like it’s going to be all too easy, you know?”

“Yeah.” You rested your elbows onto the kitchen island’s countertop, propping your head up in both of your palms, “I know.”

You knew.

“I won’t stop him if it’s what he truly wants to do.” Sunggyu spoke in support of the decision, as though he had long since argued with Dongwoo about the issue and had come to terms with it over time. And in reality, he had.

Sunggyu knew. Hoya knew. Everyone knew. It wouldn’t be easy from here on out. But, that didn’t mean you were giving up. That didn’t mean you were going to throw in the towel anytime soon. That just meant you had to be ready to adapt. Ready and willing to do anything it took. Embracing every event that came along for what it was, the good and the bad. Including the event that Hoya attempted to shift the topic to, both in an attempt to lift the mood and in an attempt to figure something out.

“You know what’s also in June?” Hoya dried his hands off with a paper towel, peeking at you from the corners of his eyes. Waiting for your reaction. Watching for your reaction. If he was witty enough, he may actually be able to coax the exact date out of you this time. The exact date of what? Well that would be the date of your 18^th birthday. “Your—”

The back door opened then, effectively cutting Hoya off. The opened door revealed a certain Cheshire like werewolf whose precise, expert hearing hadn’t failed to hear his name mentioned more than once or twice from where he was outside, preparing the barbeque for dinner, just earlier.

“Talking about me?”

Dongwoo meandered around the kitchen island and slid into the seat next to yours, fluffing up your hair absentmindedly in the process. The piece of hair Hoya had curled behind your ear was disheveled, pull forward once more.

“Kind of.” You upturned your eyes, glancing at Sunggyu and Hoya before continuing, “We’re talking about graduation.”

“D-day, you mean.” He threw a large grin your way, only to have it disappear as you set upon him a harsh glare coupled with three words you spoke with the utmost certainty.

“Graduation, you mean.” Such an assertion was less for you and more for him. For all of them. No matter awaited them, no matter what awaited you, the importance of such a day could never be taken away. Not by hunters, not by high school drama, not by anyone.

Dongwoo’s eyes laid on you for a long time, an endless amount of time, before he finally smiled, correcting himself for the last time, “Graduation, I mean.”

And another door opened then, this time the front one. Not soon after, there walked in the person you had come to see. The reason you had come in the first place.

You had a message to pass on.

“I don’t care if you don’t like me, ignoring me like a pubescent girl won’t help the situation.”

You repeated to him as he opened the door to his room. With his hand still on the brass doorknob, he glanced back at you, his eyes looking at you from his peripheral, “She said that?”

You intertwined your fingers behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels, your lips pursing as your voice melodically sang out, “Not exactly.” He scoffed in response, a sure sign that he was once more entertained by you. Just your presence in general. Just you. He stepped over the threshold of his room, not saying nay or yeh about whether or not you could enter in behind him as well.

“Not exactly?” He mimicked, throwing his jacket onto the red velvet sheets that lined his large, most likely king-sized, mattress. It had been a long while since you had been in his room. And yet, it felt as though it welcomed you. Each corner of the maroon colored walls, each edge of the wooden floorboards, each spot and speck all greeted you. All gestured you in.

“Well,” you hummed to yourself as you traipsed inside after him, taking the absence of him denying you entry as a sign it was okay to do so, “I may have embellished it.” You revealed, holding up your thumb and your forefinger, pinching the air until there was nothing but a small space between the pads of each, “Just a bit.”

“Just a bit?” He rose one of his dark, coffee brown eyebrows as he pivoted on his heel, hands in his pockets, feet slowly stepping backwards until his back hit the window sill on the wall opposite the entrance of the room.

“Just a tiny bit.” You reasserted, nodding your head as you crossed your arms against your chest.

“Just a tiny bit?” He seemed to laugh then, a rare sound to be sure. A sound you hadn’t heard up close in what felt like forever. Then again, had you ever been this close to it? Had you ever heard it echo through the air with not a single other sound masking or distorting it? Had you ever heard it when it was just two of you, alone?

No. No, you hadn’t. And despite it being such a small accomplishment – after all, all he did was laugh in front of you – you felt a swell of pride that you were the one who made him laugh just now. Not B-bomb or Woohyun or Sungjong or Jaehyo or anyone else. Just you.

And that’s when you remembered that you didn’t follow him up the stairs in order to play games with him, despite the fact that it was just a tiny bit fun listening to him repeat your every word. You remembered because you realized the feeling that took off like a rocket blasting off into space inside of you at the sound of his amused chuckle must have been magnified by at least one hundred times inside of a certain petite, cute girl named Bang Minah whenever she heard it. To one-sidedly like Kim Myungsoo and to hear him laugh because of you must have been the most gratifying feeling in the world.

“You shouldn’t ignore her, Myungsoo.” You brought the conversation back to its intended topic, “She’s worried about you. She wanted me to ask how you’ve been doing. How you’ve been feeling.”

“Should I pay attention to her then?”

His tone of voice was shifted, no where near how it sounded seconds ago. Mere, fleeting seconds ago. And you could only stare at him, your arms falling deafly from your chest, your eyebrows furrowed downwards, as you tried to read him. As you attempted the impossible once again. It felt like the stage curtain dropped right on top of you, pinning you. Leaving you in the ambiguous in between where Myungsoo laughed, smiled, yelled, frowned, and deadpanned all at once. It was a place that you didn’t want to be stuck in.

“You’re right,” he suddenly conceded, causing your eyes to go wide. Here you were, confused, hung up on his every word, replaying the conversation the two of you had in fast forward in your head in order to figure out where you had gone wrong, but you were right? You were right all along?

Then, what gave him the right to scare you like that? What gave him the right to suddenly switch the lights on? To turn the spotlight on you as he stands backstage, watching you squirm? To with a single sentence, a single unreadable expression on his face, make you feel as though a vast ocean separated the two of you? It was upsetting, to say the least.

“Well, about time you admitted it.” You breathed out, exasperated, mentally exhausted. Though, perhaps you weren’t in the least. Perhaps your were anything but as you felt those endlessly black irises of his on you. And despite his next words not swaying from the main topic of the conversation, they made you want to. Minah was but a fleeting thought flung into the shelf, forgotten in the recesses of your mind.

“I’ve tried to see her, but her mother,” he bit down onto the inside of his cheek, finding fault in his words as he promptly corrected himself, “the Mayor, isn’t exactly all too fond of me.” He tilted his head to rest against the wall by the window, his eyes closing, his fringe falling against his furrowed brows, “But, you’re right. I shouldn’t be ignoring her just because of that.”

And the question was out before you could even think about holding it back.

“Your mom, can you tell me more about her?”

What possessed you to even mention his mother when he only told you about her once, while the two of you were wrapped in darkness? When now the spotlight shone down on you like a lightning bolt, making you unable to see his features where he stood in the shadows of stage left? It was probably due to the same surge of unpredictability which washed over him just then as well. Why else would he actually answer you? Why else would the stage light dim?

“She was eccentric.” He began, speaking of her in the past tense as though she were dead. Or rather, as though he couldn’t be sure what she “is” presently. “She was certainly different from your average housewife. The expensive things comforted her. They made her feel as though she were important. She constantly needed that visual reminder that she was the single, most significant person in the illusion that was her world.” His hands lifted from his pockets as he leaned off of the windowsill, walking steadily forward, his eyes on you the entire time. You thought he would stop right in front of you.

You thought wrong, as you tended to do when it came to anything regarding him.

To Kim Myungsoo in general.

He averted his eyes as his heel took a right, his legs coming to a full stop only when he reached the bookshelf in his room. With his back still turned towards you, with his expressions still hidden from your view, he continued, “And she was. She was the Queen of her castle. And more than anything, she didn’t want to be dethroned by a lowly commoner.” His hands lifted, shifting for something amongst the books that lined the shelves of the wooden bookshelf.

You took a step forward, all in order to hear him better.

“But, she was also a ruling Queen with a hobby.”

You took another step forward, inching ever closer to him because still, still, you couldn’t hear him.

“A hobby that entailed painting the things she hated the most.” And the way he sounded as he said that was different. Different in that there were varying degrees of annoyance, irritation, anger, nonchalant indifference, and somber melancholy etched into his tone. Into the way his statement started out strong, ruthless, and apathetic yet by the end, it was but a mere whisper that was nearly drowned by the silence that engulfed the two of you.

Myungsoo hated his mother. The mother who wasn’t his mother. And yet, “You must love her a lot.” And yet, he sounded as though he couldn’t have loved anyone more.

It was only then that he turned, that he faced you. And yet, the rift separating you from him never felt bigger, “I loved her so much, I ran away from her.”

And that was it. That was the reason you stepped closer. So close that you could simply, effortlessly, reach out and touch him. Grab hold of him. Pull him back. Because it felt like he was leaving again. Like he was already somewhere far away from where you were now. And you couldn’t bare the sight of him, walking away from you while you just watched again. You couldn’t bare another cold, December night.

And, apparently, that reality was one he couldn’t bare either.

“I ran away until I arrived here, to this house with Sunggyu and the others.” His eyes trailed downwards, and you could have sworn you saw the corners of his lips hitch, just slightly, just a bit, before he locked eyes with you for the umpteenth time. Before locking you onto him for the umpteenth time, “And I plan on staying here for a long time to come.”

With that one sentence, a drawbridge lowered. The rift that endlessly went on for thousands and thousands of miles had an ending point once more. And yet, you still remained close. Your feet kept you rooted there in front of him. Because by now, there was one thing you could be sure of.

Looks were, at times, deceiving.

Little did you know, you had only just scratched the surface. You didn’t know anything. Not a single thing.

“It’s always hard to figure you out, you know?” You questioned him, your smile back, his smile back, the proximity forward, close, and to remain just that from that point on.

“Look who’s talking,” he quipped, small, circular depressions forming just below his cheekbones. Dimples. Dimples you had never noticed before as he smugly smiled your way.

“Yeah, right,” you sighed, as if on reflex due to the new, mysterious sight you were witnessing, “you can read me like a book.”

He hummed low, beneath his breath, as he took a step forward, the cotton hem of his long sleeved shirt bristling against the back of you hand. Warm, skin on skin contact sparking for just a single second, a single millisecond, before it was gone. Before it was replaced by a whisper of, “I can only read the cover,” that brushed against the rim of your earlobe, before that was gone as well. Before with the almost unseen, unfelt gesture of his index finger tapping against the inside of your forearm, he was walking out of his room. He was gesturing you to follow him.

And yet, before you did, before you turned away from the bookshelf that stood so obviously in front of you, you caught sight of a book with thin, black binding stuffed between two books no one would ever part with the intention to read: Calculus and European History.

A/N:

The title of this chapter means something, you know? Yeah, I know you know. Also, I have recently rediscovered the majesty that is Kim Myungsoo. Excuse me while I fangirl. Please and thank you.

Let me share it with you.

Sidenote: I now have a twitter and a tumblr. Story updates and news to be posted there.