Chanyeol POV

“NO! RUN FASTER!!” I screech, intently focused on my Super Mario Bros. video game.

My hair’s a mess, I look like a hobo in my baggy sweats and oversized hoodie, and people are looking at me like I’m mental (probably because I’ve been screaming at my video game for the last half hour).

It feels awesome. 

Since we have no training for two weeks, I decided to come to Slappy's Arcade. It’s been forever since I came here.

I used to come here every night to play video games and drink soda to my heart’s content.

Until it was announced that I was going to debut in Exo, and I decided to stop coming here. 

You see, during the day, I act really distant and cold. I'm the attractive tall guy with the deep voice that gets all the girls.

But the truth is that my "cool personality" is actually just a facade. That's not how I really act. 

I'm a bit more... hyperactive when no one I know is around.

No one- not even Exo- knows that I love video games, fizzy drinks, sugar, and screaming.

It's something I plan to keep hidden. If anyone finds out, then I'll die of mortification.

I won't be known as Chanyeol, the smooth, hot rapper from Exo-K. 

I'll be known as Chanyeol the Hyperactive Maniac.

People in school might make fun of me, and what if Exo loses fans because some people don't like my personality?

It's better to keep my true self hidden.

But once in a while, I decide to indulge myself by coming here and having a good time. I don't think anyone at Slappy's knows who I am.

In fact, I don't even think they know who Exo is. 

“3,000... 4,000...,” I mutter, carefully navigating Mario around the screen with my red joystick. “5,000…. 6,000! YES! 6,000 POINTS! HIGH SCORE!” I shriek, flailing around wildly.

Two guys next to me slowly stand up and ease away from me. “HEY, I got a high score!” I yell at them. “I am awesome!”

I head to the arcade's vending machine to buy a super-sized pack of Starbursts. "My favorite," I smile, and shovel at least 10 candies into my mouth, chewing rapidly. "Mmmm," I moan. "These are so good-,"

My moment of Starburst-induced nirvana is interrupted by a small tug on the bottom of my shirt. 

Turning around, I see a boy, about 10, looking up at me with a hopeful expression on his face.

“Excuse me, mister, but can you teach me how to get a high score too?” he pleads, giving me a puppy dog expression.

I grin and pat him on the back.

“Sure, kid! I’ll teach you everything I know!” I pull him over to the Super Marios game and walk him through my special techniques one by one.

Soon, I've taught him a bunch of tricks and we’re playing together, happily chewing on candy and screaming at our characters to run faster.

This is the life, I think happily, smiling to myself as my Mario eats a mushroom. Playing video games and eating candy and getting to dress comfortably. Nothing can go wrong-

“Won Binnie?” a familiar female voice says behind me.

The 10-year-old kid whirls around. “NOONA!” he exclaims, and jumps into the arms of an absolutely gorgeous teenage girl, probably about my age.

I can’t see her face because she’s hugging the kid.

But I can see her creamy skin, her long legs, her curves.

She’s a knockout.

But why does her voice sound so familiar?

"Hey there," I say. 

The girl looks up, startled.

My jaw drops.

I realize why she looks so familiar now. 

It’s Kim Minah.

The dorky, ugly loser of my school.

Except she’s not dorky, ugly, or a loser now.

She looks like a goddess, with her long dark brown hair totally straight and left down (it actually looks brushed now), her short, red dress that accentuates her body in all the right ways, and her beautiful face.

I never realized this, but behind all those stained sweaters and frizzy hair... Minah's really pretty.

She gapes at me with round eyes. Obviously, she’s just as shocked as I am.

Wait a minute.

I suddenly realize how I must look right now.

My hair’s a mess, I look like a hobo in my baggy sweats and oversized hoodie, and people are looking at me like I’m mental (probably because I’ve been screaming at my video game for the last half hour).

Oh no. Minah's witnessed my true self.

My crazy, manically screaming self.

Crap.