Open your eyes, Nam Woohyun.

The day after, it did happen – that I opened my eyes, in a metaphorical way. It happened in school, when I was on my way to class, I heard it. It was the first time that I heard them.

The whispers of the girls as I passed them.

"Wow, he's really a winter prince!"

"Oh yes, he's born in February but he looks like he is born in June!"

"Such a dark and silky skin!"

"He's a perfect boyfriend!"

I now knew why I never paid attention to them – it was plain annoying to listen to it. As I passed more and more of them by, I heard pretty often, "oh how I wish he would look at me once," but why should I? I didn't know them, I have probably never seen them, so I saw no reason to look at them, even if it was just once.

"Woohyun-oppa," I heard somebody calling me. I turned around and faced a girl, probably around my age, who blushed immediately when I looked at her. I sighed mentally. Is it this what you've meant with open your eyes, I inwardly asked Sungyeol. But what would he do now? The outcome of this was pretty obvious, at least it was in my eyes.

"Oppa, I… I really like you."

I nodded.

"Can you please go out with me?"

I looked at her, and I could tell that she already felt the answer, because tears started gearing up in her eyes.

What would you do now, Sungyeol?

I didn't want to end it cruelly. No. She had feelings, thoughts and a life too. I couldn't do this to her.

"You don't deserve me," I whispered and looked into the black doe eyes. "I'm sorry."

She blinked, and I went away. Whispers rose when I passed her by.

"He even knows how to reject beautifully!"

"Such a flower boy!"

"Ah, it makes me fall more for him."

I sighed. Is that what you've meant with open your eyes, Sungyeol, I thought. Because I didn't like it from the very beginning.

Not even looking at all the whispering girls once, I entered class and placed myself next to Howon, a boy from Busan. His accent wasn't all that thick as people thought it was, and when he tried to talk in Busan dialect, it sounded quite weird, as if he was imitating them.

"Morning," I greeted him. Howon looked at me, and nodded. He had quite sharp features and a burning gaze, flaming with ambition and passion. Everybody knew that he loved to dance, and that he attended school only because he had to, in order to become a dancer – or rather idol – one day. He had eyes which were shaped like a half moon, a thin nose    and thick lips, although they weren't as bright as Sungyeol's were. He had quite a strong build, and he was known for his fist fights. Overall, he gave an impression of strength and manliness, and an aura of aggressiveness. Nevertheless, I decided to talk to him, just to follow Sungyeol's advice.

"How are you today?" I asked him casually. I noticed that he had earphones on, so he wouldn't hear it, probably, but he did, interestingly.

"Tired," he replied, and indeed, the baritone voice of his was smothered in exhaustion. I noticed how bad his eyebags were – he probably trained all day long. I wondered if he was already a trainee. If so, the eyebags would make sense. If not, then he was really an ambitious guy.

"School's , right?"

"Yes. And I didn't get any sleep at all."

"Oh? What did you do all night long?" I asked it lightheartedly, almost annoyingly, just because sometimes, saying your thoughts or hunches beforehand wasn't really smart.

"Training. I mean, vocal training."

"Vocal training?"

"Dancing alone doesn't work. Sadly, rap doesn't, either." He paused before he added, "I hate singing. It doesn't suit me."

"Ah, so you're going to make it big one day, huh? Being an idol and all." It wasn't like I didn't feel anything when I asked this. And I can tell that it wasn't the feeling I should feel right now. Not at all.

"Hopefully. I don't want to fail, when I train so hard."

"But of course." I nodded. "So Lee Howon-"

"Hoya," he interrupted me. Hoya. I understood without asking. So Hoya would be his stage name. For a moment, I wondered why, but then I saw, somehow, that Howon was too aggressive. The name was too ambitious, whereas the name Hoya could pull off anything.

"Did you choose the stage name? Don't you want to debut with the name your parents gave you?"

"Sort of. They told me I had to take a stage name, so I took Hoya. It's the name of a flower."

I nodded. "So, Hoya, can you give me an autograph beforehand?" I smirked and so did he.

"We aren't ready, yet," he told me. "We are too few. There is this guy, he likes to dance and to rap, too, and there is the boy who just looks pretty, at first I thought he is a girl, but no, he is a guy." He chuckled. "Still, quite a girly one."

"You're too few," I assumed.

"Yes. We need vocals."

Thank God the lesson began at that time. I was so happy that Howon didn't see the tears that emerged as soon as that topic came up.

When I hated something about me – and there were a lot – then it was the fact that I still could cry over the tiniest of things.

-

"Woohyun-sshi," Sungyeol greeted me when I came home. I smiled in return.

"Hi there, Sungyeol-sshi," I replied and sat right in front of him. The warm plate of ramen awaited me.

"So how was your day?" he asked casually.

"Fine," I told him. Actually, it wasn't, but still, it would be the best way if I wouldn't tell him the truth. Because when I would tell him the truth, that would lead to questions I would certainly dislike.

"You don't look like it was fine at all." His gaze was so honest – brutally honest – that I had to avert his gaze for the second time. "So, what happened?"

"It's fine, really," I said briefly. I didn't want to tell him about my problems, struggles or wishes. Even though we knew each other for almost one week already (it still seemed so unreal in my eyes), I still had a line of privacy which he shouldn't cross. Which no one should cross.

He looked at me once again, tried to find an answer in my eyes, and nodded, then. "Suit yourself," he answered.

"How was your day?" I asked in return.

"Just fine," he replied. "I was working on my manuscript, and I made some phone calls."

"Do you have a phone?"

"Of course I have." He chuckled. "You probably didn't see it when you… undressed me."

I felt slight warmth on my cheeks, so they probably blushed.

"I guess you contacted your parents, then?"

"I did. I told them that I was staying with you, and that I would come back, soon."

"How soon is soon?"

He sighed. "Sadly, I don't know myself. I'll just stay with you, for the time being." Interestingly, he didn't say anything like, why, do you think I'm annoying or something like that.

"That's good to hear," I said. "You're a good… accompany to me."

He smiled widely, a genuine and true smile. For others, it may seem like a toothy and gummy smile, but to me, it seemed like a wide ray of sunshine, which was a contrast to his eyes. Sometimes – and maybe, I was imagining, too, who knew – his eyes looked so sad. They had this glint of bitter sadness, and a bit of nostalgia. It made me wonder, who did this? How did this happen? But I never asked him. At least not now.

"Thank you, Woohyun-sshi," he said.

"Oh, please, I guess we're same age, so you can drop the –sshi as well," I told him and smiled back.

"You're older than me," Sungyeol said in a matter-of-fact tone. "So I'll call you hyung, then. If that's fine for you."

"But there isn't much of an , right?" I asked.

"Right. There are more than five months. Still, I prefer to call you hyung."

"Fine." I chuckled. "May I ask, why don't you just… see me as a friend?"  You see, hyung was like drawing a line, even if it wasn't a real thick one, towards the other. When two persons were friends, the didn't matter, especially when it was as close as it was with ours, and they were closer towards each other, so it made me wonder why Sungyeol didn't just call me Woohyun or Woohyun-ah, if I was really as close as he claimed we were.

His smile disappeared and he looked at me seriously, almost solemnly.

"Because it will hurt when I would drop the hyung," he said simply.

"Would this happen to your other acquaintances as well?"

He remained silent for a while, and looked deeply into my eyes.  And they looked so bitterly sad, again, with edges of nostalgia. Almost like the clouds before the rain.

"I'm not sure," he replied finally, "but with you, I'm sure it will."

I didn't know if I should be really flattered or be deeply concerned about him right now. I almost didn't want to ask, but then I thought about Sungyeol's words from yesterday again, open your eyes, and I started asking.

"Why-"

"It's fine, really," he repeated the same words as I used before, interrupting me before I could properly ask. Of course I didn't believe him; it was just a lame excuse, and we both knew that. But I felt that I was about to cross a line which I shouldn't, so I didn't ask more.

"Woohyun-hyung," he said, standing up. "I'm happy to see that you start concerning about others. That's an improvement." He smiled and I smiled back, and the ray of sunshine almost scared the clouds away.

Almost.

-

Later that night, when Sungyeol was silently writing, I started sketching. I started sketching two persons, a woman and a man, in formal clothes, waving happily. Even though those were just sketches, I saw it clearly in front of my eyes; a man and a woman, in blue uniforms, him being taller than she was, and happily waving two children. We'll be back soon, dear, lingered in my mind. I felt tears coming up, and I became angry about myself. I was a man, I was seventeen, and I still cried over my parents.

How pathetic I was.

I took my pencil and started writing at the edge.

Once upon a time, there was a couple who went to work and-

My phone rang. Annoying tones – I still wondered why I had the default ringtone set on my phone – came onto my ear. I looked on the side and read the name.

I didn't pick up, and let it ring once, twice, thrice.

Wasn't it interesting? Sometimes, people get angry about persons, although those did nothing at all. But because of the stupid thing called feelings, they judge them easily, carelessly, cruelly, and refuse to think about them normally.

In my case, this applied to one person.

With a unclear mix of emotions – anger, sadness, and especially anger towards myself – I went to the kitchen, and sat down right in front of Sungyeol, who was writing. He looked up when I sat down.

"Was that your phone?" he asked.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"You didn't pick up, right?"

"No, I didn't." I paused. "Has it ever happened to you that you get angry at persons even though they did nothing?" I asked.

"All the time," he replied.

"And do you hate yourself for that?"

He looked at me with a steady gaze. "All the time. Do you?"

"Yes. Most of the time, I do."

His gaze was locked deeply into my eyes, before he answered, "I guess we're both lonely souls, even though we're surrounded by the crowd, aren't we, Woohyun-hyung?"

For a moment, I was dazzled in how Sungyeol used his words – it was on such a high level, and also beautiful, that I paused before I answered, "I guess we are."

a/n:

 that's so late! I'm sorry ;~;

Even though this turned out differently than intended, it still follows the main plot, plus we have a good dose of my brotp in this chapter! Anyways, have a nice day! / heartsparks