xl. Who To Call First

It was after Minah’s fifth consecutive win over you in Killer Instinct — a newly released, fighting video game — that her cell phone buzzed in between the folds of her faux leather wallet, cutting her character’s victory parade short. This scene was all too familiar; both her beating you to a pulp no matter the genre of game and her sitting on the couch in your living room while she did it. This is how the two of you spent your summer break nights. Sometimes, Yura, Niel, and Ricky would join in on the fun of losing. But, most of the time, it was just the two of you.

Minah didn’t take all too kindly to Ricky — which meant Niel couldn’t come over as they were, at most times, a packaged deal. Not to mean that she wasn’t kind. That’s simply the only saying that can accurately describe her feelings for him. Even more simply, she didn’t like him. At least, that’s what she told you. What Niel and Yura told you was a completely different story — one filled with first loves, first kisses, and first experiences — to be left for another day at another time.

Presently, Minah put down her controller, leaning sideways to grab her phone from her purse instead. When she woke it from its slumber with a single swipe of her finger, she furrowed her brows at the message displayed on its bright screen. She grew irritated almost immediately. How many times had this happened? How many times that she had already memorized his number despite having long since erased his contact information from her phone? She wasn’t keeping count, but she figured it was nearing fifty — and in reality, it had happened fifty-eight times.

“Hyunjoo,” she began slowly, her tone indiscernibly neutral until she continued with a stern, “your phone is on vibrate again.”

“What?” You turned to her, confusion etched across your face. Upon turning your eyes to your lap, where your phone should have been, where it was no longer, you realized she was right. After Minah had managed to beat you over thirty minutes ago with her stomach-curdling, spine-shaking, foundation-crumbling ultra combo, you had jumped up from the couch in protest; demanding for a rematch as she was much more adept at fighting games than you had previously surmised. Thus, you had managed to miss the fourteen calls and the twenty-eight text messages Sungjong had sent you. 

Deciding it was best to call him back immediately instead of taking the time to listen to all the voicemails and read all of the paragraph length texts, you smiled meekly at Minah, “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Minah shook her head fervently and you wanted to give her the most suffocating of bear-hugs due to the sheer power of her cuteness. With pursed lips, she proceeded to complain about this familiar situation she wished was anything but, “Say you’ll tell him to stop texting and calling me when he can’t get in contact with you. I get it, when you’re not with them,” by “them,” she meant the werewolves, though she didn’t know this then, “you’re with me or Niel and Ricky. I understand. What I don’t understand is why I have to put up with him nagging or yelling at me almost once every day. So, tell him to drop the nastiness when he calls. No, better yet, tell him to erase my number from his phone and never call me again. I’m begging you Hyunjoo, angry phone calls at five in the morning are the last thing I need during my precious summer vacation before our ing last year of highschool.”

“I got it, I got it,” you quelled her own anger that was beginning to stir up; the sign of which was the f-bomb she dropped in the latter half of her last statement. It was as the last syllable of your repetition left your lips that Sungjong picked up, immediately after the first ring. 

You didn’t even have time to get out a single question let alone a single greeting as he yelled, “Hyunjoo, what the hell have you been doing? I called and called and called and of all times for you to leave your phone in a black void of silence somewhere, it’s now? Really? Get over here right now! Sungyeol’s disappeared!”

It was then, after his voice echoed through the living room, before you could process his words fully, that Minah grabbed the phone from your ear and calmly said, “Lee Sungjong, first and foremost, I want you to stop moving your ing tongue for a second and breath. Cursing counts as talking, doesn’t it? What did I say? In and out. In and out.” 

Her voice faded away into nothing but a fleeting whisper as you slowly put the pieces together. His standoffish attitude as of late. His evading manner. His smile that never quite reached his eyes. 

Sungyeol didn’t disappear; he left.

Sunggyu had made a deal with the devil. Metaphorically anyway, as he believed in the concept of hell as much as he believed in P.O’s cooking abilities. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure what to believe. Besides in the people at his immediate right and left, the people who supported him no matter what he did or would do, who were considered “people” in all terms of the word no matter what others may say, he wasn’t really sure what to make of any of it. 

He felt like he was chewing down on metal, the taste of iron spreading from one part of his mouth to the next. 

Like he was sinking his teeth into an animal who didn’t deserve to be eaten, to be beaten, by him. 

He didn’t believe he deserved his title of the “Kim House’s Ambassador.” A house he was the sole member of. The sole thing standing in the way of the those who wanted to do good and bad in Springfield. He was now officially the “Big Bad Wolf” who preyed on those weaker than him physically and lower than him in degree. All the power shifted into his palm at the mere exchange of cards from one hand to the next.

It was as easy as making the claim, “As my grandfather’s grandson, I own everything that was and is his.” It was this exact claim he made to the Council of the Elites; effectively raising the Kim Family House up from the ashes it became upon his grandfather’s death. It was this exact easy and effortless statement that put him in charge of Springfield’s Werewolf population — an area that spread outside of town into the surrounding wilderness on all sides. All because his grandfather was apparently a member of the Elites before; a fact he never knew until now and still didn’t know what to make of. And it was that fact and that sentence that gave him the right to solicit the Council for aid against an unwarranted Hunter attack on the previously aforementioned Werewolf population.

With the help of the leading Delegate of the Werewolf faction, Kwon Yuri, it didn’t take long for his request to be heard loud and clear.

Within a matter of hours, the entire conundrum was solved. The invading hunters were driven out of Werewolf territory — territory they had no business on in the first place — by himself and the fellow house members by his side. 

Kim Hyoyeon. Elite Enforcer rank EN02. Born and raised in southern Japan. She was assigned to accompany him by Kwon Yuri herself. She could talk for days if no one stopped her. Usually, it was the American bred Choi Sooyoung who put an end to her ramblings. She was an Elite Enforcer rank EN03 who followed him for the thrill of seeing, in her words, “What the hubbub was all about” in Springfield. 

Kim Taeyeon, Elite Enforcer rank EN00, with the highest clearance within the Werewolf faction, was sent to make sure the latter of those previously mentioned didn’t cause unnecessary trouble. Sunggyu wouldn’t complain. Sunggyu didn’t complain even as she received the gravest of punishments for her actions. At least, in the midst of factional warfare between the Hunter and the Werewolf branch within the Elites — arguments over birthrights and naturalism all sounding deaf to his ears — it was the worst kind of punishment the Council of Elites could have devised for the short, petite woman. Sunggyu didn’t know where she hailed from. She didn’t talk about herself that much. The same of which could be said, to a lesser degree, about a woman taller than she.

Im Yoona. A member of the Im House. Her family’s territory extends across northern France. It’s not the largest patch of land and Yoona herself was not the most exemplary member of her family. Still, she accompanied him, bringing along with her her father’s pack. She volunteered herself, just as the following woman did.

Seohyun was the named she liked to go by. As she was next in line to inherit the Seo House from her mother, she was upright and cordial in all respects but, also, very important. So important he didn’t understand why she chose to come with him as well. Her motivations were a mystery, though Lee Sungyeol’s were anything but. 

“Before we all start running around like chickens with our heads cut off, I’d like to offer up a piece of my own knowledge regarding Sungyeol’s ‘departure.’” Jaehyo began as everyone fidgeted in their seats, sitting all together in the living room of Sunggyu’s — now under his name just like his grandfather’s will had stated it should have been long before — home. Though perhaps it was a bit too late for that. Either way, no one questioned how he knew, what he knew, or why he knew. They simply let him say it. “He went to find his family.”

“What with everything that’s going on right now, ya can’t blame the kid for that.” Sooyoung commented, despite only having known Sungyeol for less than two whole days. She was the only new face to attend this hastily planned meeting. In fact, she was the only one who moved to say anything at all in face of Sungyeol’s departure. 

While currently working in order to map out the boundaries of the territory belonging to Sunggyu and the Kim House, all the while driving out leftover hunters in the process, not a single one of them had given his change in behavior a second thought. Still, Sooyoung expected someone to say something. To say anything, really. Just earlier, the house with abuzz with the news. Now, it couldn't have been quieter. 

At least, not until a single opinion rose out of the empty silence, coming from a girl with short hair, her hands in her pockets, her eyes staring straight at something Sooyoung couldn’t see, and said girl, you, spoke thusly, “Good for him.”

“Isn’t it?” Kyung immediately chimed in, a forced smile on his face.

“He still should have said something. Anything, really.” B-bomb reasoned.

“And if he had said something, do you think we would have let him do it so easily?” Jaehyo questioned, though it seemed like more of a question for himself than anything. 

“Of course not.” Hoya sat unamused, fingers intertwined together, his frustration at Sungyeol’s abrupt departure without a single word so obvious he needn’t say a single word more himself to express his opinion of the entire situation. Even if he understood, to some degree, to a large degree in fact, that didn’t excuse Sungyeol’s actions in his mind.

“He could have at least allowed us to help him instead of facing it alone,” Taeil agreed with Hoya, saying the words the latter did not, the two of the same mind when it came to the subject of “family.”

A subject that held a special place in Woohyun’s heart, who then said, “I’m sure he thought of that, before proceeding to think against it.”

“Blood-related family is different, you know?” Dongwoo backed him up, glancing between B-Bomb and Jiyeon.

Jiyeon nodded, gripping down onto her younger brother’s forearm with an intensity that surely left bruises, a secret hidden behind her fluttering eyelashes, “Hell yeah, it is.”

“And if it’s what he wants, it’s what he wants.” P.O simply said in agreement.

“Though isn’t this all kind of sudden,” U-kwon interjected, not able to wrap his mind around the fact that Sungyeol was already gone, “and out of the blue? Out of nowhere even?” 

“He’s rarely talked about his family and now this?” Sungjong bit down onto his thumbnail, eyes casted downwards.

“Not mentioning them does not equate to not thinking about them.” Myungsoo added impassively.

“Let the guy do what he wants. He knows where we are if he gets lost along the way.” Zico supplied his own opinion only after everyone had gotten out their own. Turning to Sunggyu, he stared at him with patient eyes, waiting for his final decision.

She didn’t get it.

Sooyoung stared on at the curious sight, puzzled to the point where one of her free hands scratched at the back of her scalp. She gnawed down on the inside of her cheek, her canines scraping against her skin, the taste of iron slipping down . 

“I understand that it’s upsetting to know he’s left so suddenly without a word, but I believe we should respect his wishes for his departure to remain a quiet affair.” Sunggyu concluded, gaining an approving glance from both Zico and every wolf under their charge. 

Sooyoung just didn’t get it.

“Yo.”

The single phrase that drew your attention away from the soiled dishes in front of you. You turned, looking over your shoulder to find Jaehyo sauntering into the kitchen.  

“Yo?” You mocked, watching him walk all the way up to you, stopping only when he arrived at your side. 

“Got something to say?” He pushed back, nudging your shoulder, in response to your sarcastic reply.

You shook your head, smiling despite his obvious dissatisfaction, “I figured it was you who had something to say, yo.” 

He didn’t have to do what he did then. If he hadn’t, only time would tell what the future would bring. But, he did. He reached into his pocket, immediately getting to his point, to the crux of what he had intended to say with his approach of “yo,” with his next statement. 

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” 

“No,” you turned off the facet, noticing the seriousness of his tone enough to know that now was not the time to be distracted by other, more practical things, “why?”

From his pocket he produced a white envelope, holding it between the small space that separated the two of you, his closeness only apparent then, the level of secrecy he deemed his conversation with you obvious then,  “Sungyeol gave me a plane ticket for tomorrow and told me to meet him in Italy two days from now.” 

“I don’t understand.”

You said, because you didn’t. Why was he telling you this? Why was he telling only you this? If Jaehyo was going to help Sungyeol find his family, he should have told everyone. It shouldn’t have been deemed a secret conversation to be held in front of the kitchen sink; a topic spoken with closely exchanged whispers.

“You should go instead.”

“No.” You immediately refused, turning the facet on again, your hands delving into the suds and the bubbles once more. 

“Why?” He sounded confused, at an utter lose as to why you’d deny his proposal. 

“If Sungyeol wanted you to go, you should be the one who goes.” You explained simply, rinsing off a rice bowl. Water splashed up your arm in thin drops. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Your lips formed firm line, stalling your breath. You didn’t want to say no. But, it’s what Sungyeol wanted that mattered, wasn’t it? Not you, and certainly not Jaehyo.

Jaehyo narrowed his eyes, “They need me in Springfield right now.”

“Then ask someone else they need less.”

“You’re being uncharacteristically more headstrong than usual.”

“I’m told it’s my strong point.” 

“Hyunjoo,” Jaehyo gripped tightly onto your forearm with his free hand, causing your sleeve to roll down to your wrists, wetting the cuff, begging you to accept. Your hands stopped, your head turned, and your eyes locked with his own. And after he read the words that hung on that eye-catching billboard above the overpass, he wanted to laugh outright. He smiled instead, “When the hell did you become so clever?” 

“You rubbed off on me,” you shrugged as he stuffed the ticket in your pocket. 

“The flight’s tomorrow at five in the afternoon. I’ll see you when I see you.” 

“Yo,” you said in parting as he walked away, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he heard it. Or, maybe, the sound of rushing water drowned you out. 

Impulsively, you decided then and there you’d do what Jaehyo wanted. 

Stubbornly, you’d do what you wanted as well.

He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs. No. No, you couldn’t just leave. No, a lack of “usefulness” was not a legitimate excuse. No, because things had finally calmed down for a bit. You couldn’t even give him the solace of your company for this brief period of time? Why? Why not? How? How can he fight against you when you look at him like that: like going is everything you’ve always wanted. 

As though “Visit Italy” was on your bucket list. 

As though the journey would be both mentally and spiritually healing, you were determined to go flying high away from him just when he thought he stood at the same altitude, breathing the same air as you. 

Just when things were becoming normal again — no matter how abnormal a “normal” Springfield was.

“You’re going to go gallivanting off after Sungyeol then?” He leaned back into his seat, his fingers retching into his scalp, twisting into fistfuls of black hair, “To accomplish what, exactly? We already decided, as a group, that we wouldn't drag him back kicking and screaming. It’s something he’s thought about long and hard before doing, isn’t it? So then why do you need to go? What end are you trying to obtain through these means of yours?”

He wanted to back you into a corner. He wanted to chain you down with logic and reason. He would have said anything to get what he wanted: you in Springfield. And for some reason, the events, situations, and contexts that made up his reality didn’t feel like giving that to him — as per usual.

“Zico,” you called his nickname without faltering or stuttering in the least; turning to face him like you knew. Like you knew that was all it took to convince him, your following words not mattering in the least, “I’m not going in order to bring him back.”

“Then why are you going, Hyunjoo?” Sunggyu asked, posing Zico’s question more concisely than he had. 

You had approached Zico and Sunggyu about going to Italy. You were more than aware you were chasing after a hopeless hope, engaging in a meaningless race, and yours means by no means had any set ending attached. Your journey there would most likely end up being fruitless; changing nothing in the end. Still, you would go. 

“Because,” you began, finishing with a smile. 

And Zico couldn’t argue against you, because he agreed completely. 

And Sunggyu said with his own smile lighting his face, “Stay out of trouble,” as though you were a “troublemaker” in all definitions of the word.

Receiving permission on all fronts was the last thing you expected. Jaehyo wanted it. Zico and Sunggyu were fine with it. And your mother summed up her entire opinion of it with the words, “It’s a learning experience.” You were going to Italy. This was it. This was the trip that would proceed two others after which you would become someone who could say, without a doubt, “I know what I want.” 

“Which one do you want?” Jiyeon asked from your right, holding up a dress in either hand, “Pale pink or the sassy flower print?”

Narrowing your eyes, it wasn’t hard to catch the slight twitch in her smile, “Something tells me you hold unfavorable bias towards the sassy flower print.”

“Flower print it is,” she concluded, folding it into your suitcase whilst mumbling behind the cover of her long, black hair, “A girl’s always got bias towards the flashy ones.”

Not managing to catch her whispered words, you moved your lips to question her. Unfortunately, your first, confused syllable was overpowered by the booming yell of your mother downstairs. Both you and Jiyeon turned to face the entryway of your bedroom, remaining silent in trepidation of your mother’s own question. Still not being able to hear even a yell clearly, you moved your feet instead in order to find out what it was she asked for. 

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Jiyeon stopped you with a pat on your back that made you almost go stumbling forward, bounding out of the room and down the stairs right after. It was hard to believe that just yesterday, she limped to and fro. Her injury was bad, but it seemed as though it would take much worse for her to stop moving for even a single second. 

There was no subsequent yell for you from downstairs, so you assumed the problem, whatever it was, was taken care of. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket as soon as you went back to deciding if you should take three pairs of socks or four — a wooly conundrum that would have you counting days and nights in your head for the entire night. When you checked it, you found one text message from P.O that read: “Jiyeon?”

Whenever Jiyeon was with you, P.O would text you that line at random intervals of the day. He was busy, as much as everyone else was, so texting was most likely a luxury. However, with that one line, he conveyed everything he could not with quite possibly twenty or more. How was she? Did her injuries open up? Is she playing tough again? Did she ask for me? Don’t hesitate to tell her to take a break for once. And, tell her I’m waiting for her. 

The latter of which made you sigh on reflex, heavy and long. It was hard not to be jealous of their relationship. It was simple and seemingly effortless. Jiyeon pursued P.O and she got him, just like that. And you? You were stuck in a proverbial tornado of feelings. Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, each fleeting moment of romance went flying by as you were whisked farther and farther away from “normal” ol’ Kansas; appearing briefly, repeatedly, or in flashes. Minus the ruby red shoes that took you back home and the lovable dog, that is.

Though you were always more of a cat person.

As you were contemplating the report you would give to P.O today, your phone buzzed again. Unfortunately, he’d have to settle for a short reply of, “Sassy as always,” as after Sungjong’s less than graceful fit he had about you never answering your phone, you’d really rather not miss another one of his attempts to contact you. Making him angry for no reason at all was the last thing you wanted. Being reminded of a promise you had made month upon month ago was a close second. 

“We’re leaving on the 20th,” he, not Sungjong at all, had texted you. 

You had a week and some days to come back before then. It’s what you promised. A promise made to that vast black sky hiding beneath tufts of feathery locks wasn’t one so easily broken. Besides, you wanted to go. Impulsively and stubbornly, you wanted to know more about him. And it was a trip you already had permission to go on when it came to your mother.

“Did Mr. Mysterious, aka Mr. Expressionless, aka The Brooding Hotty, aka Kim Myungsoo, text you just now?” Jiyeon suddenly appeared behind you with a folded pair of jeans in her hands. She placed them inside of your suitcase, informing you of why she brought them with, “Your mom said they just came out of the dryer. There you go, deary.”

“Thanks.” You threw her a smile, setting your phone face down where it previously lay on the sheets of your bed.

“So,” she pried again as she sat on your bed, ever the nosy, gossip-loving girl, “was it Myungsoo who texted you?”

“No, just a friend from the library. One of the books I checked out is overdue.” If the word “friend” could be used to describe him and if a “book” was a deal to be kept.

“They work there or something?” Jiyeon leaned back, stretching her legs and her arms as she yawned. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days, despite the fact that she should have been resting — she had narrowly escaped death by multiple bullet wounds after all.

“You’d think they do.” You joked, much to your own amusement and little to Jiyeon’s; who had no clue as to why you were laughing. You cleared your throat, not wanting to make her any more curious than she was already — and she was naturally very much so. So, you drew her back to the person she had brought up beforehand, your own curiosity getting the better of you for the umpteenth time, “Why’d you think it was Myungsoo?”

She stared up at you where you stood, long and hard. Shamelessly, yet somewhat hesitantly. Slowly, yet with a quick moving of her lips, she stuck her tongue out and said, “No particular reason.”

Then she bit down, holding it there.

A/N:

I'm posting this right before I have to go speeding off to the university because if I don't I might not get free parking and then I'll have to pay six dollars for a garage parking because for some reason everyone and their mother is at school at 10 in the morning and so I'll see you all when I get back and I'll reply to your comments and questions and by the way I have a new computer and I love him. His name is Alfred.

Gotta go go go!

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