REPLY TO ME 1997

“I remember that feeling from
Long ago when I looked at you
I remember that time when
I knew you, you knew me
I wanted to be like you
hang out with you
I think about those desperate times
But it's merely a memory
that has passed by”

The twenty-ninth of December in Busan is cold with snow falling and visible exhalations; the knitted scarves and Christmas sweaters are still in use and cover pale necks and shivering shoulders. The carols and classic Christmas songs are still playing in the background. There is a certain, indescribable feeling in the air that goes well with the wintry backdrop. But as for a group of seniors in Busan High—

“Yah! What was that for?!”

Eighteen-year-old Byun Baekhyun looks at the girl with a mixture of disbelief, complete annoyance, and something else. She is almost as tall as him, standing at one-hundred-and-seventy centimeters, and rapidly presses the buttons on the remote she had snatched from him a moment before. A thought in the back of his mind wonders if she had grown an inch or two in the past few months(—it’s unbelievable that she’s grown so tall) . Her dark brown hair falls down her shoulder, her high cheek bones accentuated by the loose waves, completely aware of the reindeer pajamas she still wears from morning.

She is Jung Jinkyung.

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun,” she starts off absently, “Infinite has a performance on MBC.”

Seo Inguk scoffs while reclining on the couch. “Those hobo guys who dance like robots again?”

Jung Eunji turns around, her long hair like a whiplash. She is one of the more shorter in the group, but her cheeky choice of speech and short-temper doesn’t let others cause a nuisance to her. She glares at Inguk and asks in a threateningly low voice, “What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

She narrows her eyes. “I thought so.”

“—elcome to the first ever SBS Gayo Daejun!”

Eunji is the first to gasp, her eyes growing wider by the second; Jinkyung claps a hand over . On the small TV was the two girls’ point of interest: seven boys, ranging in similar heights, dancing, synchronized to the music. They think their hearts skip a beat.

“LEE SUNGYEOL, OH MY GOD I CAN’T WITH YOU!” Jinkyung screams, flailing her arms in the air before pressing her hands to her face in a gesture that is supposed to epitomize the indescribable feelings. She whispers in melodramatic tone, “Why are you so perfect?”

Byun Baekhyun looks upon her thin figure with a blank stare. His eyelids lower and he thinks, you don’t even know. He shakes his head before sighing, wondering why in the world he does and and how much longer he’ll have to do this—because in fact he doesn’t need too, it’s not obligatory. It’s not at all.

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“What,” Seolju deadpans.

Jinkyung shoots up from her sitting spot, successfully knocking over Baekhyun—she has the urge to cackle, but she isn’t Eunji, and she won’t stoop that low.

“Seolju, Seolju, Seolju!” She repeats rather quickly, latching onto the latter’s arm, smiling rather not-so innocently.

“Come with Eunji and I to the fan meet tomorrow. Please?”

“No.”

“B-but… why not? I mean, seriously, you’re passing an offer to meet seven beautiful angels.”

“The student’s grades are coming out tomorrow. I have to make sure I’m top student again.”

Jinkyung rolls her eyes, walking back to where Inguk and Baekhyun were seated; whom Jinkyung might add, arguing over baseball teams and scores, which is pretty irrelevant. Making a small discontent noise, Jinkyung grabs Inguk’s arm and pulls him off the couch, pointing her index finger her closest friend.

“Yah, Inguk, do something. Persuade her into coming. Aside from Eunji, you’re second best!” Jinkyung whines, which earns a scoff from Baekhyun.

“Grades are more important Jinkyung.” She ignores his comment with a simple turn of her head and walks toward Seolju, grabbing her by the shoulders. She is met by calm orbs that scream are you really going to do this. Obviously not amused, nor moved by.

She raises her arms up in an exaggerated manner. “Okay fine, I give up! I bet my money you’ll be top student again—like really Seolju!” Emphasizing on the really and Seolju because Jinkyung is more sure than anything.

Again, Seolju raises one of her arched eyebrows. “How much exactly?”

Inguk his head and Baekhyun leans a bit in his seat. They are interested; very, to be put quite simply. Bets that regarded Shim Seolju and Jung Jinkyung were always amusing to watch—they vary between both girls, each having both sides of the straw a generous number of times. The two exchange glances.

“Fifty bucks,” Inguk announces. “If you get top grades, you give us fifty each. Same goes for us, except it all goes to you. Deal?”

Busan High’s most brightest weighs it out in her head and a telltale sign is her chapped lips pursing rather thoughtfully. She would lose most of her allowance, but she has been a bit more of a killjoy in the month: missing out on things more often than not.

“Deal.”

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The generous number of people that check to see their grades go as fast as they arrive; the hum of school chatter acts as background music between the whitewashed walls and glass pane windows, exclamations of surprise standing out. Seolju stands in the back, most do not look directly at her but they whisper, and she catches her name between the sentences. What the heck.

“Number one: Kris Wu. Number two: Shim Seolju.”

Second place’s eyebrows raise, the tips of her lips dragging downwards.

“What.”

A girl, five centimeters shorter than Seolju pops from behind, hands on both of her shoulders; eyes filled with amusement. “Uh-oh,” She starts only to get interrupted by Seolju’s low growl.

“How? Why? When? What?” Seolju sputters, quickly turning around, grabbing the girl in horror, shaking her furiously.

“Youngmi! T-This can’t be happening. Someone’s gotten ahead of me.”

“But you still get the fifty dollars from Jinkyung... right?”

Seolju shakes her head, threading her thin fingers through her hair as if she was pulling her brown strands.

“Is this a joke? Who is this... this Kris guy?! He doesn’t even sound Korean!”

“Probably someone ugly I bet, I mean, only someone utterly geeky would beat you; Shim Seolju, queen of the geeks.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Jinkyung too much.”

“I know right.” Youngmi groans, patting the former’s shoulder sympathetically. Seolju shakes her head and follows her as they make their way down the hall.

“Youngmi,” Seolju starts, voice hesitant, “can you do a favor?”

“What is it?”

"You can dig up some student info on this Kris guy right? Because you're the President Jung."

Youngmi sighs, shrugging her shoulders at the former. “I guess I can. I mean, I know just about everyone in this school but I’ve never heard a Kris before.”

Tapping her chin with her index finger, Seolju’s eyes light up, her eyes crinkling, “Great! Thank you Youngmi. Now I have to find Jinkyung and her little groupie so I can collect my fifty bucks, from each and one of them.”

Youngmi laughs, waving slowly at the latter before turning around, greeting one of the hall patrol.

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“I can’t believe it.” Jinkyung says, slapping one hundred and fifty dollars into Seolju’s hand. “How can someone possibly beat you?! You’re the queen, the queen of everything smart and geeky. Who is this Kris guy anyways?”

Seolju shrugs as Inguk snorts before speaking, mouth full of flavored bread, “Kris? Is he from America?”

“Apparently not.”

“Oh, Youngmi!” Jinkyung flails her arms into the air, an abnormally large smile on her features. “You’re here!”

“So?” Seolju cuts in before Jinkyung can even bother with her stupid nonsense.

“Oh, yeah. Um, this Kris dude... uh, his real name is Yifan, Wu Yifan. Chinese transferee from Canada.”

Seolju chokes on her water (—“Excuse you?!” she manages) as Jinkyung cackles obnoxiously in the background.

“You got beaten by Wu Yifan? The Wu Yifan.” Baekhyun mouths as Jinkyung continues laughing. Sounds like a gremlin, Inguk thinks, giving her a look she’s oblivious to.

“Oh my God, the holy lords have decided to ignore your prayers dear child. Yifan has only been in this school for half of a year.” Jinkyung snickers as Youngmi scowls, slapping her shoulder.

Baekhyun nods, “Seriously,  when he first transferred here, he couldn’t even pronounce hello cor—”

“I don’t mind the flattery, it's a nice feeling but I dislike people talking behind my back.”

Baekhyun shuts his mouth as a low and husky voice speaks from behind.

Seolju begins choking again, oh.

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Jinju stuffs her hands into the pockets of her winter jacket as she enters the new seven-eleven convenience store they had opened up a few months back during the same time she moved into the neighborhood. Everyone was so friendly, it scared her sometimes.

“Two dollars.” The store clerk says, as Jinju hands the droopy eyed clerk some bills before grabbing her soda. Drinks here are too overpriced.

An upbeat tune was playing from the small black television hanging on the wall. Squinting her eyes, Jinju trots closer to get a better look. Amidst the screams of a million girls, seven boys shine (but it may have been the spotlight) and all of them are more than above average looking, if Jinju could put it simply.

“Oh, you like them too?” A female voice says behind her, it was rather high, but nevertheless, not irritating.

“Huh?”

Jinju turns around, facing a girl possibly around her age. She was a bit short, heads shorter than her. The girl clucks her tongue, pointing her index finger at the television.

“Infinite.” She says dreamily, “Seven angelic boys with angelic voices. The one with black short hair, piercing eyes, his name is L, or Kim Myungsoo. It was love at first poster.”

Frowning, Jinju cocked her head to the side, not understanding anything, who was L? M... Myungsoo? “What?”

The girl breaks out of her stare and looks at Jinju as though she’s a maniac who’s been living under a rock for the past year because who doesn’t know Infinite?—even the elders down the street know them. Her eyebrows furrow, her dark eyes are confused. Then a few verses of the song passes along with a few blinks; awkward silence ensues.

“What?” she says.

“So," Jinju says, lips forming an circular formation, "Who’s L... or Kim Myungsoo?”

The girl blinks. “You mean, you don’t know who’s Infinite?” She has a habit of emphasizing the “f” and “n” in her accented English, but it is comprehensible, possibly due to the fact that she had been taking foreign language classes in school.

Kang Jinju shakes her head hesitantly.

And she—who is she anyways? the taller girl thinks—places her hands on her hips and a plan blossoms quickly in her dark eyes. The Kang fidgets under her gaze; as though the shorter girl plans a mastermind. (Which she is.)

“Well, then, it’ll be my, Jung Kyori’s, pleasure to introduce you to them,” she points at the screen, listing the members every time the camera pans on their face, “See there—that’s Sunggyu, the guy with small eyes, and, oh, that there is Lee Howon, but he’s usually called Hoya and—OH THAT’S THE SECOND YOUNGEST AND HE’S MY BIAS WRECKER!”

Kang Jinju is not aware of what she is going to be part of.