« day seven »

Myungsoo woke up right on time in the morning, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and ate his breakfast. Then he walked to the train station and arrived at school.

His first period, physics, was a chore to get through, and his second, english, wasn’t any better. His third came and went, and it wasn’t until the hour was over and a strangely heavy feeling of disappointment settled in his stomach that Myungsoo realized he’d wanted to see Naeun again. His fourth period, calculus, dragged on at an even slower pace than physics and english combined.

When fifth period came, Myungsoo took particular notice of Kim Jongin. Jongin was likeable and friendly and well-known for excelling at sports. Though Myungsoo had barely exchanged ten words with him, they’d grown up together over the years. He couldn’t help but be a little curious as to what Naeun saw in him.

Myungsoo arrived home after school that day to see his mother standing at the kitchen counter, clasping a diamond necklace around her neck.

She had on a red dress he’d never seen her in before. When he stepped inside and the door closed with a soft click behind him, she turned. She was wearing red lipstick, the kind Myungsoo knew she saved for fancy dates.

He looked at her for a long moment. The last time he’d seen her had been just over three weeks ago. “You found another rich one this time, huh?”

His mother sighed with a mixture of weariness and exasperation. They’d long passed the pleading stage. “Did you just come back from school? How was your day?”

“Worse, now that you’ve showed up.”

“I’m leaving in ten minutes, Myungsoo.”

“How long will you be gone this time?” asked Myungsoo with venom in his voice. “A week? Two weeks? A month?”

She looked back at him with a completely neutral expression. “I’m not sure.”

Myungsoo scoffed. He had to admire that about her – how unfeeling she was. Without another word, he kicked off his shoes and walked upstairs.

He sat silently at his desk and stared at the digital clock next to his bed, watching the minutes tick by, until the front door creaked open and then slammed shut.

Only then did he venture back down to the kitchen. As always, there was a bundle of hundred-dollar-bills sitting there on the dining table, held together by a small elastic band. There was no note, nor had Myungsoo been expecting one. The notes had stopped when she stopped pleading for him to understand her.

Of Myungsoo’s seventeen years of life thus far, he could recall the longest period of time his mother was ever home to be around five months. And that had been when he was an infant. She was constantly off dating some millionaire or wealthy business owner in order to secure money for herself to live off of. Myungsoo knew she did it for him too, but he also knew not to confuse responsibility with care.

He had no siblings, and his father had been out of the picture since long before he was born.

The house he lived in wasn’t all that big, but there were times when it felt as vast and empty as a desert.

Myungsoo left the money where it was, because he still had a couple hundred left over from the last time she’d left money for him. Then he headed back upstairs and started his homework.

By the time he finished, the sky outside was already dark and moody. He considered calling Sungyeol or Sungjong over, but in the end he settled for walking to the supermarket down the street and purchasing a six-pack of beer.

Then Myungsoo sat in his room and got thoroughly drunk. When his surroundings grew nicely hazy and his eyelids started to feel heavy, he fumbled for his little leather journal.

Love is supposed to be the strongest bond between a mother and her son, but sometimes a family isn’t a family at all.

« day eight »

“Tired?”  

Myungsoo lifted his head from where it was buried underneath his arms.

Son Naeun stood in front of him with her backpack slung over her shoulders and a textbook in her left hand. She looked amused. He blinked a couple times to let his eyes adjust to the brightness of the room. When he looked up at Naeun again, her expression had transformed into one of slight worry.

“No offense,” she said, pulling out the chair across from his, “but you don’t look so good.”

Myungsoo his lips and brought a hand up to his pounding head.

“Or good at all,” continued Naeun, biting her lip and giving him a rather playful smile. “Sorry, it had to be said.”

He stared at her for a few moments, half wondering if she was just a figment of his imagination.

She leaned forward and looked at him closely. “Kim Myungsoo, are you hungover?”

He stared at her some more. Then something in the back of his mind nudged him and he realized she was waiting for some sort of answer. He finally forced himself to give her a tired, painfully slow nod.

“I’ll be right back,” said Naeun, standing up again. “Just wait one second, okay? Don’t, you know, pass out or anything.”

Myungsoo nodded again and put his head back down on the table.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard footsteps approaching. With the sound of Naeun walking closer came the enticing aroma of coffee. Myungsoo lifted his head just slightly.

“It isn’t much,” she said, setting down a cup in front of him. “But it should help at least a little.”

He took a swallow. It was scalding hot and burned the entire way down, but he didn’t mind. Myungsoo met her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “You’re being awfully nice to me, considering we barely know each other.”

“Hey,” said Naeun, looking slightly affronted. “I consider us friends.” She paused for a second before continuing, “I mean, we have each other’s numbers. You know something about me that not even my closest friends know yet. And I just bought you coffee. If that doesn’t constitute a friendship, what does?”

 He laughed a little. She was right. “If you put it that way…I guess we are friends.”

She placed her elbows on the tabletop and rested her chin on the palms of her hands. “To be honest, though, I wasn’t planning on talking to you again.”

The way she said it was so matter-of-fact, but her words still hurt somewhat.

“Really?”

Naeun nodded. “After you found my drawing pad and all, I just chalked it up to a bad coincidence. But then I walked in here today and saw you sitting there with your head down, either sleeping or half passed out, and I couldn’t not say something.” She grinned.

He shook his head and couldn’t help but grin back. She was, in a way, infectious.

“Are you feeling better?” asked Naeun, her voice serious again.

“I am,” answered Myungsoo truthfully. The worst of his headache was cleared with the coffee.

She smiled. “Good.”

Myungsoo took another sip of the hot beverage and then suddenly remembered her absence the day before. “Where were you yesterday?” he asked her.

Naeun smiled again, a small, secret smile. “The auditorium,” she told him. “It’s my favorite place in the entire school. I sometimes go there during my free period, and other times I come here to the library.”

“Why the auditorium?” Myungsoo was genuinely curious.

She thought for a few moments and then smiled her secret smile again. When she spoke, she said her words carefully. “Meet me at the entrance of the auditorium tomorrow at the beginning of third period, and I’ll show you.”

Myungsoo got the feeling that he was being trusted with something very private and valuable to Naeun. He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

-----

Six pairs of eyes followed Myungsoo’s every movement as he set his tray down on the lunch table and sat down.

Six pairs of eyes then looked away when Myungsoo raised his own to look around at his friends.

Myungsoo blinked a few times and then shrugged, reaching for his sandwich.

“Amazing,” muttered Sungyeol to Woohyun. “He’s like a whole new person.”

“I said hi to him this morning and he almost bit my head off,” added Sungjong in a hushed voice.

“Why is he suddenly fine?” wondered Sunggyu.

Once again, six pairs of eyes stared at Myungsoo.

He took a bite of his food. “I can hear you all, you know. I’m sitting right here.”

“Well, what happened to make you so happy all of a sudden?” blurted out Sungyeol.

Myungsoo looked around at his friends. “My headache went away last hour. I feel fine, okay?” He grinned at them. “Now stop staring at me, it’s creepy.”