Class the next day was too awkward. Kwangyeon avoided Youngjun all morning, trying to keep from facing him and avoid remembering the incident from before altogether. It was a bright day out, the crisp air and dew from the outside shifting into a warmer, dry climate, and the boy would have been much more energized, but instead huddled in his seat quietly. He felt like the president was just staring at his back the whole time, hung up on yesterday just like he inevitably was. In reality, Youngjun didn’t seem any different than his usual self; he sat there reading his book as the lunch bell rang, only sipping on a juice box for his routine meal. Kwangyeon just didn’t have the ambition to face him, forgetting about the class president as he got up from his seat with his own characteristic melon bread in hand. Without stopping, he made his way to Hanbyul’s class on the floor above before the elder could race down and find him first.

                Though most of the students on his floor had already grown accustomed to his pink head, the older peers above were still drawn to it. Some groups he passed by let their jaws drop in wonder while a few girls pointed him out and chattered to each other behind their concealing, fragile hands. The door already open, Kwangyeon strolled through the room unannounced, looking around for Hanbyul who was doing some work at his seat by the window. Maybe the reason Hanbyul always sat in the class president’s desk was because his assigned seat was the same position as the other’s, which would be no surprise to Kwangyeon knowing the elder like he did. He called out to him from across the room, but got no answer. Sitting in the seat beside him, he just watched as Hanbyul kept working, earbuds planted well into his head, testing to see how long it would take for his friend to notice his presence. After a few girls giggled from the back as they watched the two, Kwangyeon became impatient and took one headphone out of the boy’s right ear. Hanbyul looked shocked and flew back against the window, gasping before realizing it was only Kwangyeon who disturbed him, then acting even more ridiculous with a flabbergasted expression just for the boy. Kwangyeon kicked the leg of the other’s desk and tried to look threatening, “Yah! Stop messing around, I called you know?”

                Hanbyul however, only regained his composure for a second before laughing again, turning to face his friend. “I can’t take you seriously with your hair like that man.” His chuckling made Kwangyeon laugh a bit too, lightening up while he took a bite into his snack. The older boy leaned back against the wall, leaning on his elbow on the desktop while his books remained sprawled across it. “So why’d you come up here?”

                Kwangyeon didn’t look up from his bread and shrugged, his lips pursed into a pout as he chewed. “Just wanted to see you.” After he swallowed the mess in his mouth, he leaned closer and gave him another one of his eye smiles that showcased his pearls of teeth. “I need a reason to see my hyung?”

                Hanbyul brushed him off, eyeing the melon bread in his hands with a sigh. “No, but you never come up here, so what happened in your class?” It wasn’t often that Hanbyul wasn’t his carefree, hyperactive self, but even these times weren’t really strange to Kwangyeon. Rather, he appreciated when his attitude changed like this every once in a while. Leaning back into the borrowed seat, he sat the bread down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, crossing his arms and letting out a groan. He craned his neck back and slid his feet forward across the aisle between the columns of desks, his pink locks falling off his forehead, bouncing back to place when he sat up straight again.

                “I don’t know, just…” He bit his cheek and leaned on the desk, mirroring Hanbyul’s position. “Yesterday while I was on cleaning duty—“

                “Oh yeah, how’d that go?” Hanbyul chimed in before he could get to the part about Youngjun, and Kwangyeon stopped himself to retrace the events from even before that.

                Shrugging, he exhaled and replied, “Well, I got stuck with Kyumin and his group, so that was enthralling.” Rolling his eyes, he reached for his bread to find it missing, whipping his gaze back at his senior who was now taking a huge bite out of it and nodding nonchalantly.

                Though shortly, he almost choked and spit out a few crumbs while trying to force out, “You got stuck with Lee Kyumin?!” He started to laugh and swallowed whatever chunks were left in his mouth. “That , but I guess it was only expected…”

                Kwangyeon was glaring at him as the man devoured his precious snack, but mumbled out a “Why’s that?” before he finally got over it.

                “Because you’re a criminal, and criminals would surround themselves with criminals right?” He was being sly again, but showed the younger a cheeky grin after finishing off the last of the melon bread. “I can’t believe I’m friends with an ex-con.” He sighed and began wrapping his headphones around his ipod, tucking it away in his desk while some other students began filtering back to their seats. The break was almost over, and Kwangyeon stood up for a girl that needed her seat back, apologizing to her briefly before leaning over Hanbyul’s desk.

                “You free later? I kinda wanna come over.” It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to invite themselves to each other’s places, or even show up unannounced; in fact it was strange if they didn’t at least once a week. Hanbyul nodded and gleamed back at the younger boy, giving him a small thumbs up, “Sure, I’ll meet you right after school, Pinkyeon~”

                Kwangyeon was already headed out when he called back, “Stop that!”

                “You know you like it!” Hanbyul yelled across the room, not caring for any of the girls laughing at them, mostly giggling because of how cute they thought Kwangyeon was with his bubblegum hair. Rushing to his own class, Kwangyeon still couldn’t get his mind off of Youngjun, but also something else that began bothering him the longer he thought about it. Regardless, he sat back in his seat without a single glance at the boy behind him, tapping his pencil in some anticipation for his plans after his next few remaining classes. His chemistry teacher arrived, and the day resumed as normal; his classmates complained about the confusing formulas, they all read along with the textbook as a cover-up for sneaking texts, and Kim Hyoseok was once again caught sleeping and given cleaning duty. As the pupil was berated for his constant dozing off, returned with some witty remarks by the kid himself, Kwangyeon couldn’t help but smirk to himself. Just yesterday he was in that same situation, and now he couldn’t have felt better knowing he’d be leaving after the last bell. Now if only it would come sooner…

•••••

                It was the end of the day, and Kwangyeon was stuck in school. He didn’t think that his punishment would be longer than one day, but apparently, as a teacher that caught him before he left made clear, it would last until his hair was back to black. So here he was, back in the same dirty class room as yesterday, forced to properly clean it by the end of the day today. Holding the broom between his chest and right arm, he texted his friend to let him know the situation. Even if he prepared Hanbyul for his change in plans, he expected that the elder would overreact when he did come over later. He could picture it now, and it sent shivers down his spine.

                The door slid open and Kwangyeon consequently tucked his phone away, thinking the teacher and Kyumin’s posse were back to do barely more than talk. Instead, his eyes moved down to the smaller figure entering the room holding rags and buckets, clicking his teeth as he saw the room for the first time. Hyoseok had the same duty as him today, and Kwangyeon certainly thought it to be a relief compared to the group yesterday.

                The two didn’t talk, but Kwangyeon watched as the boy sat the buckets on a table and surveyed the situation with his mouth agape. Hyoseok was always the joke of the class; people were either laughing because of him or laughing at him. He was teased for how much he slept during class, which Kwangyeon never understood since he didn’t know the guy well enough, but he wasn’t unpopular. In fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite, Hyoseok being one of the most popular guys in his grade. It was probably just his friendly demeanor, but many said this was because his dad was a comedian and being funny ran in his blood. From how much Kwangyeon eavesdropped though, it seemed pretty safe to say that most people hung around him because he was related to a celebrity. Kwangyeon snapped out of it when the boy caught him staring, a wide grin stretched across his cheeks.

                “You’re Kim Kwangyeon! You’re a hot topic lately you know.” Sitting in a desk, he leaned on his elbow and gleamed at the pink-haired boy. “It’s true, your hair does suit you.”

                Kwangyeon became embarrassed and tugged at a few strands of hair on the side of his head, holding the broom in place on his other side. “Yeah, I lost a bet.”

                “Thought as much.” Hyoseok shrugged and was about to say something else when the door flung open again, this time with the familiar faces that Kwangyeon disdained. A few disgruntled students walked into the room with more brooms, followed by Kyumin who looked pretty complacent in comparison. His hands in his pockets and the coat of his uniform undone to reveal his white tank underneath, Kyumin headed for a seat while the others whined longer. He barely glanced at Kwangyeon, but the boy was very much staring a hole into the taller peer. Kwangyeon glanced at the other few before grabbing a bucket, heading out past them before they could get the chance to rile him up again. Besides, he actually did need to get some water if they ever wanted to try and clean this dust-ridden place.

                He was back where he was yesterday, walking aimlessly down the hall with a bucket clashing against his side. At least, he wouldn’t have to relive that unfortunate dilemma from the day before, and instead reached a nearby bathroom. He filled his bucket about halfway and left, opening the door to be flooded with that sound that piqued his curiosity the day before. Without much thought, he followed the music again to the same room as yesterday, smiling to himself as he looked inside until the reality hit him; Youngjun really was kicked out. The band wasn’t playing as intently as they had been yesterday, the new guitarist probably too much of a novice to play anything as fast as the song yesterday, and Kwangyeon just didn’t feel as much intrigue as he had knowing his class president was no longer there. Watching the group play so half-heartedly had him lost in his thoughts, his gaze focused on the unturned bass the player could barely hold up.

                “There’s a ert!” A voice called out from behind Kwangyeon and he spun around, some water from his bucket spilling out of its container. The music helped mask the call from the musicians, but a few students wandering around looked in his direction. Kwangyeon was ready to defend himself and get on with his work, until he realized that Hyoseok was the one who cried wolf. Holding his own bucket of water in front of his lap, the boy stood there with a tiny smirk crawling on his face. “What are you peeking in on?” Moving around the pink-haired student, he awed at the band playing inside. “Ahh~ they sound pretty good.”

                Turning back, he started to walk off, Kwangyeon trailing behind wordlessly. Hyoseok glanced back at him with that usual gleam in his eyes, “Not enough girls though.” He sighed and Kwangyeon’s lips began parting so the boy could giggle. Hyoseok’s classmate had such a low, hearty laugh he didn’t expect, especially from a boy with pink hair, and it made Hyoseok grin a little himself.

                They made it back to the classroom and, just like the day before, the others were having a smoke. Kyumin was gone, but his friends were sitting around in the corner by the window, laughing to themselves, one of them with their feet propped up on another empty seat. Hyoseok waved over to them as he entered, but Kwangyeon ignored them, wondering instead just how the boy could be so outgoing. “I got the floor if you get the chalkboard.” Hyoseok threw a rag in Kwangyeon’s direction, the boy barely catching it after setting down the bucket on the floor next to him. “You don’t want to see me jump to try and reach those spots, it’d just be another mess to clean up.” Chuckling, Kwangyeon soaked it in the water without question and rung it out, heading to the dusty, cracked chalkboard and slapping it on. Moving it around in circles, the board changed from gray back to black while Hyoseok began pushing some dirt off the floor with a broom that was just his height. The others circled in the back together didn’t care what they were doing, and just laughed at them on occasion.

                It didn’t take long to clean the board, and surprisingly when Kwangyeon rung the rag in the bucket of water again, he noticed Hyoseok was done sweeping the mounds of dirt and dust away already too. The boy was just a little too good at this, and it made Kwangyeon wonder just how many times in the past month he’d done the same exact thing. Stretching as he stood up straight, Hyoseok laid the broom against another desk and crouched down next to his own bucket of water, looking up to Kwangyeon expectantly. “Done with the rag?” He held up his hands to catch it and Kwangyeon nodded, tossing it to him, finding himself now standing there with nothing to do. Hyoseok soaked it again and kept to himself while he squeezed the extra water from the cloth, returning his attention to the boy standing near the board.

                “Oh, I’ll finish the floor, you can go if you want.” Hyoseok proclaimed like it was no big deal and began pushing the rag over the linoleum. Surprised, the other blinked and looked around the room, though not reluctant to his initiative.

                “Thanks…” Kwangyeon nodded his way and took his bag, glancing at the others still joking among themselves before heading out alone. He guessed those guys were only hanging around because their leader wasn’t back yet, but it wasn’t like he wanted to stick by to see Kyumin again. Though he easily jinxed himself as soon when as he started down the hall, phone out to let Hanbyul know he’d be over soon, he brushed by the other boy. His bag fell off his shoulder while his phone fell from his hand and Kwangyeon looked back up at Kyumin with a disgruntled expression that slowly diminished when he found Kyumin bent over picking up the device for him. Taken aback, he carefully took the phone from the delinquent after he handed it back to him, though without so much as a smile. Kyumin didn’t say any apology or look at all sorry, but just handed the boy his phone and headed back to the room his friends were waiting in. Kwangyeon stood there frozen, but eventually caught himself staring and affixed the satchel back over his shoulder, tucking his phone away while he hurried out of the school. That was a strange experience he hoped never to encounter again.

•••••

                The doorbell buzzed to Hanbyul’s house and Kwangyeon waited outside, smoothing out some of his hair that had become a bit messy when the wind picked up on his way over. Even though Kwangyeon had texted him, it wasn’t surprising that Hanbyul took forever to answer the door and greet him. When he did though, Kwangyeon took notice of how he was actually busy on the phone and silently followed him inside, taking off his shoes at the front while he tried to listen in. Of course, it seemed impossible since Hanbyul was speaking English to the person on the other side, which Kwangyeon could understand little of.

                It wasn’t rare to hear Hanbyul speak English, since he was after all born and raised in Australia before moving to Korea during middle school, but it was always confusing for him. He’d be so used to the boy speaking Korean to him that when he did whip out some English around him, it was briefly paralyzing. Without much direction, the younger boy headed off to his friend’s bedroom, tossing his bag onto the bed while he checked his phone, waiting for Hanbyul to finish up his conversation outside the room. From how dead the house seemed, it was most likely his parents on the other end, probably outside the country from what he could remember the boy telling him a week or so ago. Before he could make any more guesses, his friend entered the room and shut the door behind him, folding his phone closed and stuffing it in his pocket.

                Hanbyul had already changed out of his uniform, wearing some old gray t-shirt and jeans instead, while Kwangyeon was stuck in the clothes he’d been wearing all day. At the very least, he took off his school coat, laying it over his lap while he leaned back, waiting for an explanation from Hanbyul.

                “My parents are visiting family in America, they always call so early over there.” Reaching over for some papers and what remained of an opened package on his desk, he began unfolding something that was on his desk. “But at least they sent me some good stuff.” Holding it up for Kwangyeon to take a look, it was unsurprisingly a poster of his favorite singer Bruno Mars. Hanbyul folded it back up after showing it off so proudly, probably planning to put it with the four others he already had taped to the wall beside his bed. Kwangyeon could never get over how overwhelming his admiration for the singer was.

                Crossing his legs under the coat, Kwangyeon rested his head on his right shoulder, keeping quiet as Hanbyul twirled the chair at his desk around and sat himself. Shortly after, Hanbyul sighed and grumbled, “Was cleaning duty really that bad?”

                “Not really.” He shrugged, “Kim Hyoseok was there, he actually did most of the work.”

                “Who’s that?”

                “Ah…” Kwangyeon often forgot that Hanbyul wasn’t in his class, let alone his grade, and leaned in to explain. “He’s kind of the clown of our class, but he’s always in trouble so that’s probably why he took over.”

                “Every class has one.” Hanbyul joked and leaned on one arm of the chair, swaying from right to left in the seat. He eyed Kwangyeon who was all too quiet again, letting out a small laugh. “So then what is it? And don’t say nothing, you’re obviously stuck on something.”

                The younger student sighed, rolling onto his side while he lied down on the bed. “Yesterday… You remember that guy whose seat you take all the time?”

                “Yeah.” Hanbyul leaned in closer, a lot more interested now. “What, did he finally beat you up yesterday?”

                “What? No!” He rolled onto his back and stared up at the blank, white ceiling. Trying to find the right way to describe what happened was a lot more difficult than he thought. “Turns out he was in a band—“

                “No way, what?!” Hanbyul laughed to himself, eyes widened still from intrigue. “There’s no way I can picture that guy singing—“

                “He was playing guitar.”

                “That’s even more unimaginable!” Hanbyul laughed a bit longer while the younger boy breathed in, resituating himself on the bed.

                “Well I saw him get kicked out of his group… It was kinda harsh.” Biting his lip, his mind went over the memory quite clearly; Youngjun playing so peacefully and then leaving against his will with glossy, reddened eyes. He shut his own eyes and exhaled, moving his hands between the back of his head and the elder’s pillow.

                Hanbyul had calmed down, but turned away to start his computer. “Well, I guess that means he just right?”

                “No, he was really good.” Kwangyeon didn’t even think of what he was saying, the words slipping so easily out of his mouth that he didn’t even regret them after. “After seeing him, I wanted to play again too…”

                Pausing, Hanbyul peeked over his shoulder at the boy on his bed and raised his brow. “Play bass? Isn’t that kind of pointless?” Hearing his friend’s thoughts, Kwangyeon was reminded of the girl’s words to Youngjun; how she had told him that their goals were too different and how serious about playing the president was. Kwangyeon didn’t reply to Hanbyul outright, but thought it over in his head for a while. The image of Youngjun’s fingers strumming over the tightened strings of his guitar, of the expression of tranquility the boy had while playing all became reminiscent of when he played his own bass at home. Unknowingly, a smile crept onto his face as he pictured the chords in his mind, the gloss of white on his bass smoothing over his arm and cooling it.

                All these thoughts broke away when Hanbyul called over after minutes of silence, “You falling asleep in my bed? What will the neighbors think?” Without any hesitation, Kwangyeon pulled the pillow from under him and darted it at the back of Hanbyul’s head. “Shut up.”

•••••

                Call him stupid, but Kwangyeon was one for impulse. After he had gone home yesterday from Hanbyul’s place, he could only dwell on the same thoughts from earlier. In fact, he ended up staying awake most of the night messing with his bass, playing a few random songs he hadn’t even heard in years. Now, the same bass was strapped to his back in its old black zip-up case, the bottom tapping the backs of his thighs with each step closer to the school. Most of the kids he passed by gave him weird looks, the same ones who were awed by his hair color stunt now watching him intently for any understanding of just what was going through his mind.

                As he passed by the gates, and a few teachers who just shook their heads when they saw him, his chest tightened. The strap of his case rubbed against his uniform and when he started to trudge up the stairs, he became more exhausted with the added weight of his guitar. Before long, he in a breath and turned into his classroom, spotting Hanbyul in his own seat and, more importantly, Seo Youngjun reading a book in the desk behind him.

                “Kwangyeon!” His older friend immediately called him out, but upon a better look, he raised a brow and sat up straight. “What are you doing…?” Kwangyeon, on the other hand, didn’t have any intention to answer him. Rather, he walked straight to them both, his attention mostly focused on the class president who hadn’t even realized he was there. Hanbyul watched with his hand cupped over his mouth in confusion and some sort of second-hand embarrassment while his friend sat his satchel his desktop, leaning the case of his guitar against the desk to it. The scene attracted the attention of a few other students in the class, all whispering in question of what was going on, but only after unveiling his guitar did the class president look up from his book.

                Hanbyul and Youngjun stared at the boy in wonder while Kwangyeon held up his glossy white bass to his stomach. Staring at the other with an anxious look on his own face, he could feel his fingers becoming clammy with tension. Before he could grow too scared, he took a sharp breath in and spat out what he wanted to say, “Youngjun… Please play with me!”