FROM ADMIRER TO FRIEND

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There were many thing SungYeol never expected to happen to him in real life. For example, graduating as a number one in the law department or getting his mother to let him go on a road trip with Hoya all around the east coast of Korea. Another example could be meeting the people he had placed on a pedestal during all his existence - BleuBusters doesn't count, he met them back in their first stage, the only thing is that they still don't know his persona - but destiny had decided to play a prank on him and there he was, stuck in Campanella's washing room, having a cup of coffee with the infamous Lkimnit. Who would've thought?

"I'm really sorry about the inconvenience," SungYeol blurted out for the enth time.

The sound of the drying machine was their subtle background music. The waiter was looking from under his long eyelashes at the younger man that was now wearing DaeRyong’s spare uniform. It was a bit too big for his shorter and thinner frame.

SungYeol’s words seemed to enter to deaf ears since there was no response to his multiples apologies, but the two unreadable eyes set on him said something else. What was it that they intended to say? Well, that was a mystery for the sophomore. SungYeol not only sighed internally but he mentally kicked himself. Hard. He had been such an idiot to let Lkimnit’s clothes dirty. He should’ve been a lot more careful—

“I should be the one.”

The self-damage got interrupted with the sound of the quite lifeless voice.

"What—? No, I should be the one. I startled you," SungYeol nodded matter of fact. "It's not like everyday someone goes calling you by your pen name."

His words, instead of bringing comfort to the writer, seemed to do the exact opposite since the younger male was now choking on his own beverage.

"Was I the first one to call you...?" SungYeol couldn't stop from blinking at the sudden enlightenment. "Oh my goodness!"

While he kept spazzing over the news, MyungSoo dried the side of his mouth with his knuckles, recovering from the wild sensation. His watery eyes looking everywhere but at the waiter. Unlike SungYeol, it seemed he wasn't taking the news that well. The choke was enough prove, and the prolonged silence confirmed it.

"...since when?"

Well, the writer didn’t deny it or avoid it and that was good. Really good. SungYeol wasn’t going to be able to handle another awkward moment with the freshman and also, he wasn’t going to fall for excuses, not when he had been stalking—looking carefully at the young male. There was no doubt. He was four hundred percent sure the freshman was Lkimnit.

"Your photos from BleuBusters's last concert. They were the first clue," SungYeol tried to sound calm as he took a seat on top of the drying machine. The movement under him distracting his unfocused mind. "Seems I had been your follower for a while without knowing—well no, I did. I mean, I've always been Lkimnit's fan—your fan! I've read all your fanfics and I will read the future ones. I really enjoy the way you write, like, seriously! And I leave like some of the longest most awkward comments every time I'm able to try and make sense. I just—sometimes the feelings are too much and I end up rambling with nothing good to say, like now but— I should shut up."

There goes SungYeol’s effort to sound calm and composed. Now that fan side completely busted him, he only wished to be an ostrich and hide his reddish face from the writer. The closest thing to his desire was look down at the cup of coffee and ignore the way those sharp eyes were looking at him.

"Oh... That's you?"

Now that wasn’t expected.

"Y-you remember my comments?!" SungYeol's eyes opened wide before they got scrunched by the wide smile pasted on his mouth. "Oh my goodness!"

The sound that came from the young writer was a lot more similar to a snort than a laugh but the crooked line his lips did was an obvious smile. And a pretty cute one.

"Your english is good."

That's right Lkimnit's blog is all in that foreign language. Who would’ve thought?

"Mine? Yours! God, I always thought you were from Europe—America! Plus your pictures doesn't leave space for a clue."

"I like it that way."

"You did a good damn job hiding it," SungYeol grinned before jumping from the washing machine. "I seriously can't believe I'm actually talking with you. Like, like this!"

His overexcitement seemed a bit overwhelming for the freshman.

"Right, 'm SungYeol."

"I know."

The way his eyes slightly opened after his words wasn't caught by the tall waiter who was busy spazzing all over again on the fact that Kim Freaking-Awesomest-Fanfic-Writer-Ever MyungSoo knew who he was.

♪  ♫ ♪  ♫

"And he knew my name! Ain't that amazing?"

"You're kind of hard to miss, yanno? Tall, loud, with an elementary school mind. Almost everyone in campus knows who you are,” Lee HoWon, always ready to set down to earth SungYeol’s mood.

“Gee, thanks,” the sarcasm was spat.

“I’m just being realistic.”

“Leave that for your future patients, not me.”

That sunday night, SungYeol managed to slip into Hoya’s bedroom. He had offered himself to be the good friend he was and distract the medicine student for a while. Studying everyday non stop can’t be healthy either. So there they were, eating some chicken and updating each other. Well, SungYeol was, HoWon just listened, or acted as if he did. His half closed eyes were tricky.

“Either way, I’m glad you actually grew some balls and started a conversation with him and not just stalked—”

“Looked at.”

“—the poor freshman.” HoWon ignored the serial killer stare. “And then, what happened?”

“Well… his clothes got dry, he changed and left,” SungYeol sighed. His hands busy holding a half eaten chicken leg. “I ended up paying all the drinks I made for him. But it was worth it.” Half of the month's salary over drinks, washing machine, broken cups and compensation money for disturbing the peaceful atmosphere at Campanella Café, all at a reasonable price set by SungGyu. If it wasn’t for the lack of personal and DongWoo, SungYeol was sure his boss wouldn’t hesitate to fire him.   

“Worth it?” HoWon repeated getting a firm nod. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“What?”

SungYeol blinked confused by his childhood friend’s question. If there was someone that knew everything, and he means everything, about him it was the medicine student. It was impossible for him to hide something from the older male. Even if he wanted, he was incapable of doing that.

“Why are you so into this freshman? I know the he’s a BleuBuster’s fan and everything but—are you having a thing for dudes now?”

The incredulous look in SungYeol was almost comical. “Are you high?! Why would you think that?”
 

“You just said it was worth it to pay a guy’s drink,” Hoya shrugged.

“Well, because it was!”

Hoya raised his eyebrows in a not so amused way and SungYeol hunched knowing what was coming next wasn’t going to be nice. “JiHyun hurt you that bad?”

Voilà.

“Aish, that’s already history!”

“Exactly.”

SungYeol groaned, frustrated with his friend’s thoughts. So what if he hadn’t found a girlfriend since his break up back in high school? He had been real busy. Also, Hoya shouldn’t talk, he was worse than SungYeol when it came to relationships.

Sighing, the sophomore looked at the medicine student. “Can you keep a secret?”
 

“This is the moment when you come out to me?”

“I’m seriously thinking about choking you with this,” SungYeol waved what was left of his chicken leg before throwing it at Hoya’s face.  The smug smirk on his face didn’t fade, not even when he got shoved playfully by the older student. “This Kim MyungSoo isn’t only a Bluebelle, HoWon-ah. Oh no, he isn’t.”

“Now you’re creeping me out.”

If anyone saw the  way SungYeol was grinning and how his fingers interlaced, they would’ve been crept out too.

“You can’t say this to anyone, and that includes—” SungYeol’s warning got cut as BleuBusters’ digital single invaded the bedroom. Hoya rolled his eyes noticing SungYeol dance with a straight face to where his smart phone was resting. As he grabbed it, his straight face turned into a surprised one. “WooHyun.”

“You still mad at him?” Hoya yawned pushing himself further into his bed to reach the wall.

“No, I just don’t want to see his face or listen to him,” SungYeol mumbled, the iPhone still ringing.   

Hoya smiled softly, crossing his arms. “That a long ‘yes’.”

SungYeol could’ve answered back but his mind was somewhere else. This days had been weird for the roommates, or at least for SungYeol. Every now and then WooHyun would search for him and even invite him to grab a beer or something. It was as if he had never asked SungYeol for space. Or, to say it better, the line was drawn and the only one that could play with the set rules was WooHyun.

It was true that SungYeol wasn’t mad at WooHyun, not anymore. The feelings he had towards his friend was confusion and mostly awkwardness. And yeah, there’s a bit of anger in there. But just a tiny little bit. Right?

The smart phone stopped ringing and SungYeol released the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

“Just let it go, Yeol-ah.”

“I can’t,” SungYeol murmured before a bell sound broke into the room. A Facebook message. From WooHyun.

Nam WooHyun

Yah rmmbr the convi close 2 our plac? lets have a drink!!!!

SungYeol snorted as another bell sound came.

Nam WooHyun

I knw u read it so move ur whrver ur!!1!

Stupid Zuckerberg and his smartass website.

♪  ♫ ♪  ♫

He was an idiot. He should’ve stayed with Hoya and ignored WooHyun’s Facebook messages. He should’ve stayed at his friends with the comfortable air conditioner instead of suffering the disgusting heat in the middle of the night. And also, have a drink? On a sunday night? At almost twelve in the night? There were only two reasons why WooHyun was asking him to have a drink. One, the classes he had tomorrow got cancelled or two, he had been drinking with friends and got drunk.

“This bastard.” SungYeol hissed knowing the answer.

The convenience store WooHyun mentioned was the one they used to frequent in their freshman year when the had nothing in their kitchen - read that as almost always. It was pretty close from their place and not that far from the medicine dorms, a twenty minute walk or so. Lucky SungYeol who didn’t have to take a cab  to meet his friends.  

“Yah!”

As soon as he turned the intersection, SungYeol caught sight of his friend sprawled on a white plastic chair with some cans of beer already pressed on one of the outside tables.

“SungYeollie! Over here!”

Yep, WooHyun was  completely wasted.  

“For god’s sake, WooHyun! Don’t you know what day is today?” SungYeol kept calling the older student’s attention loudly as he reached him, not caring about the looks he got from a couple passing by or the stupid pout on his friend’s lips. His stupid roommate was going to get a piece of his mind.  “Are you a freaking teenager to be doing this? Get a ing grip—”

What was intended to be a long frustrating - because WooHyun was obviously going to forget it all the next morning - speech ended up abruptly when SungYeol’s visual field got enlarged. Someone was sitting on the chair next to his drunk friend. A certain someone that went by the infamous cyber name of Lkimnit.

“Look what I found!” The drunkish giggle made him gag. “The Bluebelle!”

WooHyun wasn’t the most educated person SungYeol knew, and he was used to it,  but the way he kept pointing languidly at the writer made his cheeks take a bright red colour.

For a second time that week, SungYeol wished to be an ostrich.

“Ain’t I awesome?”

A savage and drunk laugh was followed by a face palm. How much had WooHyun actually drank?

“My goodness, I’m so sorry, Author-nim,” the sophomore looked apologetically at the writer who kept holding his usual inexpressive façade. “His name’s MyungSoo, idiot,” WooHyun tried to murmur but his drunk senses made him fail miserably.

SungYeol felt like punching his friend on the face but got distracted with the freshman who repeated twice that it was okay. It was then that he caught sight of the small plastic bag set on the floor next to the writer’s chair. It seemed he had been caught as he was getting out of the convenience store. Poor him, WooHyun had surely ordered him around, using his hyung’s and sunbae’s powers.

“Yah, Dongsaeng. See that tall dude? He’s my friend, the one I talked to you about,” WooHyun’s proud grin made SungYeol feel disgusted and embarrassed. “He told me you liked those idols, the BleuBusters dudes, too. He was dying to talk to you but he’s too chicken to actually do that.”

“I’m not,” SungYeol found himself whining.

He should’ve ignored his phone.

“Hush it, Yeol. I’m in the middle of finding you a friend,” WooHyun laughed once again as he hit the male sitting next to him on the back. The noise didn’t sound friendly. At all. “He looks stupid but it’s fun to be with him. Won’t you give him a chance?”

“Hum,” MyungSoo blinked slowly moving his face far from the older’s. Surely his breath smell like alcohol. “It will be my pleasure, Sunbae.”

“Good boy.”

For a second time WooHyun hit the freshman’s back. SungYeol winced for MyungSoo instead.

“See, Yeollie? What would you do without me?”

A snort came from the named one. “Obviously live an unembarrassing life.”

The overly exaggerated way WooHyun rolled his eyes brought a crooked smirk to MyungSoo’s lips. Thing that caught SungYeol off guard.

“It’s better if you leave now. Sorry for the trouble—”

“What? No! Exchange numbers!” WooHyun urged them as he pulled SungYeol from his belt loop, forcing him to take a seat on the closest plastic chair. It had been a miracle the chair didn’t break with the force he fell on it. “Sit and drink up. I’ll invite you guys. Talk and be friendly. I don’t care if you end up talking only about those BleuBusters.”

Things got worse when WooHyun actually took MyungSoo’s phone from the plastic table and started to move his fingers on it.

“Yah, WooHyun. Stop it.”

The oldest feigned being hurt. “I’m just trying to help.”

“The hell you are,” SungYeol snatched the mobile before giving it back to MyungSoo. WooHyun groaned letting his forehead hit the plastic table. A painful cry came followed by a stressed look on the younger law student.  The youngest of them looking intently at the way both friends interacted. “I should get you home.”

It was obvious his roommate wasn’t capable of function normally and there was no way he could hold a conversation with the writer when his friend was in that impertinent state. As much as he wanted to talk some more, it wasn’t right to do it then. A silent groan made it way thru his throat.

“Need some help?”

MyungSoo’s offer had surely surprised SungYeol.

“Trust me you don’t want to be next to this drunktard for another minute,” he said giving his inmovile friend another stern look. “I’m sorry he made you stay with him. He isn't usually a jerk when sober.”

“I know worse,” MyungSoo shrugged before both males stood up. “You sure you need no help?”

As much as his insides told him to say one answer, his mind made him answer another thing.

♪  ♫ ♪  ♫

“I hate you. I do. I really, deeply do,” SungYeol kept saying as he managed to climb the now tamed stairs up with a half conscious WooHyun hanging from his left side.

Not only had he declined MyungSoo’s offer to help him but he had ended up getting vomit on his favourite pair of Toms on their way to the dorms and he could swear he lost two pounds when WooHyun got himself free from his grip before deciding it was a great idea to cross the avenue right when the green light started to flash. WooHyun was going to need to buy him five pairs of Toms  if he wanted to be forgiven by SungYeol.

“You just let go of the opportunity I created for you,” WooHyun mumbled from his hunched figure on the bed. His hands holding feebly the cup of water SungYeol gave him.

“I don’t need you to look after me. I can create my own opportunities,” SungYeol said even though he knew his friend wasn’t going to remember this conversation. “Come on, get inside.”

“I know,” WooHyun’s hands let go of the cup before turning to pull the sheets. He wasn’t that agil so SungYeol intervened. “It’s just, I care about you.”

The words sounded sincere, and people say drunks always say the truth. And it wasn’t that SungYeol didn’t believe his friend’s words but he had problems with his attitude.

SungYeol sighed, tucking the older student on his bed. “I really don’t get you, WooHyun-ah.”

“You do.”

“No,” SungYeol shook his head. “One day you tell me you need space and the next you invite me to hang out and then you decide not to even inform me you’re gonna be out the weekend.”

“I just wanted space, Yeol-ah.”

“But—” SungYeol’s face got trapped by both of WooHyun’s warm hands. His shocked eyes trapped in his friend’s bleary ones.

“You’re still my friend, idiot.”

SungYeol removed the hands from his face. “I feel conditioned.”

“I felt asphyxiated.”

WooHyun’s comeback hurt SungYeol. Deeply.

“Sleep now, Hyun-ah.”

He knew it. SungYeol had known it since he had the phone call with Hoya the other night. He also knew people reacted differently to the same things and while his childhood friend didn’t mind the overwhelming presence of the younger, WooHyun did care. And there wasn’t much SungYeol could do about that. He couldn’t try to be liked by everyone because that was simply impossible. Not everyone liked blue so he had to learn to understand and not let the other’s opinion affect him. It was easier to be said than to be done, but it wasn’t utopic. He could do it, it was only going to take him a long while.

“I should get some sleep too,” the tall sophomore told himself as he removed some hair from his friend’s forehead. WooHyun was finally asleep. Yawning, he stood up from where he had been sitting and stretched his limbs.  

While he was in the middle of changing into his pajama bottoms, a pretty pitchy noise bubbled up in the room. SungYeol furrowed his brows wondering who would be sending him a message so late in the night. It was sunday—monday, for god’s sake.

Pulling his old shirt’s neck he walked to the bed table where his mobile was resting. Lazily he picked it up before unlocked it.

From 010 205 7778,

Just wondering if Sunbae actually wrote the right number.

SungYeol felt like kissing WooHyun until he woke up.