"Kris!" Chanyeol shouts, calling for the attention of the senior who was at his locker down the hall. He waves, grinning when he catches Kris' attention. Kris turns away, ignoring the shout and grabbing his history textbook from his locker. They had agreed on actually going home together that day, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon.

Chanyeol scowls, opening his mouth to holler the name again, until he feels a hand wrap around his wrist. He turns, suddenly pushed up against a locker, getting the wind knocked right out of him. Chanyeol winces, glaring at the perpetrator.

"J-Jongin!"

Jongin gives him a tilted smile, moving in closer into his personal space. His hands holding and simultaneously pinning Chanyeol's hips against the row of lockers.

“Listen, I know you like Kris or Wufan, whatever his name actually is.” Jongin whispers, tilting his head to whisper into Chanyeol’s right ear.

“W-what?” Chanyeol stutters, ears turning red. He watches as Kris’ gaze strays towards them, feeling Jongin’s hands  tighten their grip on his hips.

“Let me help you.” He shifts, lifting his left hand to play with a wisp of Chanyeol’s copper coloured hair. Jongin’s right hand trails down to tuck something in his back pocket, patting his then moving away.  Chanyeol gapes, watching as Jongin struts down their school’s hallway smirking at Kris.

Chanyeol slips his hands into his back pockets, feeling around to find a piece of paper. He holds it up to the light, squinting to read the light scrawl.

‘I’m in a similar situation. Call me if you’re interested: 1-212-1994.’