Jongin sits at his lunch table, and carefully picks at his chips, laughing at something one of his friends said; a story about something stupid he did the other night. He’s sat at what an outsider might call the popular table, but if you’re on the inside, you’d know that everyone sat here is just stupid. Jongin unreservedly includes himself in that statement.

They’re not popular in the sense that everyone wants to be like them, more like most people just know who they are, if not by name then just by face.

There isn’t really anything different about the nine of them, compared to the rest of the population, they just sort of gravitated together at the start of the first school year and stayed together since. The basic make-up of the group hasn’t changed at all in that time-unless you count girlfriends, or boyfriends in Shania’s case- and they all feel comfortable with each other.

Why look for anyone else? Everyone here is pretty great and all the other people around him just wouldn’t fit.

Most of his days go by in a familiar haze; messing around with his mates, studying a little bit when he feels like it-he has pretty average grades, and sleeping. He’s known for sleeping and frequently naps on the table in the canteen. He knows he usually looks like a bit of a mess, he’s not really into shopping, so most of his clothes are bought for him by his mum. And they never match, because he’s too tired in the morning to choose properly.

Jongin does listen to most of the conversations his friends have, even if they think he’s asleep. He just never knows what to say, as their conversations tend to take frequent tangents, and by the time he’s thought of something relevant, or funny, it’s obsolete.

Every day is virtually exactly the same, suspended in the little bubble of his friendship group and only leaving for lessons or to go home and sleep, play video games. Maybe he’ll do some homework if the teacher’s lucky.

Until one day, one of his friends –Sehun, the one with the absurd fixation with dying his hair-nudges him conscious and says,

“That guy’s been staring at you for ages. Glaring, actually. I wouldn’t normally say anything but he’s been at it for, like, ages, seriously,” Jongin groans and pulls his face out of his arm-pillow, hoping he doesn’t have crease marks imprinted on his face.

He, raises his head, rubs his eyes blearily, then looks around in the direction his friend inclines his head in, but there are too many people around. This place really isn’t big enough for everyone who attends this place, and it’s not even cold yet. It’ll be so much worse when people start flooding in to stay warm. There aren’t enough seats to go round as it is.

“By the door,” Sehun says when he can’t seem to find this person. All he sees is the back of his head as he walks briskly away, gait angry and forceful. All he can gather is that he has red hair.

Jongin decides that this was a waste of energy, and promptly falls back asleep after telling Sehun this,

“What do you even do that makes you so tired,” Sehun mumbles more to himself than Jongin, as he doesn’t expect an answer from the comatose boy. He doesn’t plan on telling them what he does, because it’s not nearly as interesting as some of the theories going around that nobody in their right mind would believe, like him being a drug dealer, or having wild parties every night or something.

Do they really think he has enough money to do that? And does he look like he’s on drugs?

Well he’s not; the truth is he just spends his nights on his Xbox.

He’s not even good at it, so he spends most of the time chatting with foreign people who also aren’t good at it, instead of shooting at whoever or whatever he’s supposed to be shooting at. Also he he’s not good at dealing with jumpscares, so that makes it even more difficult for him to fall asleep afterwards.

-

This continues for another few days; Sehun or one of his other friends pointing out that his ‘stalker’ is watching him again, only for him to run away before he can catch a good glimpse of him. All he knows is that he’s not particularly tall and that he has red hair, which isn’t much to go on.

“Is he gay?” Fran asks-she’s serial-dater Kevin’s current girlfriend- at least he thinks her name’s Fran. He’s not sure.

“I don’t know. That doesn’t look like a besotted gaze to me-a murderer maybe?” Kevin interjects, evoking laughter from everyone at the table with his mocking tone, except Jongin who just smiles wryly.

“Why would anyone want to kill me?” Jongin asks, a little naively in retrospect,

“Well for a start, you-ow!” Jongin pushes Sehun before he can finish his sentence, and everyone laughs again, until they are eventually distracted by Baekyun, who is filling his coke bottle with mints. What he hopes to achieve by doing this- especially indoors- is beyond Jongin. Baekhyun screws on the lid, shakes it, and then opens it again. Naturally, it fizzes everywhere, making a mess and the dinner ladies come out from behind the counter to tell him off.

He mops up the mess sullenly, complaining all the while,

“It was just a joke, oh my god. Ugh, this is going to take ages,” he chucks the sopping wet tissues into the nearby bin, and it hits the bottom with a cringe-worthy, wet slap sound,

“What time is it, actually?” Kevin asks, bringing his phone out of his pocket to check, then swears, “It’s five-to, I gotta go; I got a lesson at one.” He departs with a quick kiss from his girlfriend, and leaves. Jongin has a lesson to go to now as well-the last one before he can go home- but he thinks, if he runs, he can leave it for a bit longer.

At the last second, he picks his bag up and leaves, after the masses have already filed out and the corridor is no longer blocked up with students. He ambles slowly, sleepily, out the door, only half a mind on where he’s going-is it science? Or law?

He’ll go there anyway, they’re both on the top floor, and if it’s not either of those he can just go check maths see if that’s where he’s meant to be right now, he’s not done the homework for either of these classes so it-a hand shoots out from shadows and snares Jongin’s wrist in its titanium-grip.

Jongin is now very definitely awake, as he tries to wrench away from the unwanted presence, but the boy just tightens his grip to the point that it hurts, and he can’t stop the little pained ‘ah’ that escapes his lips. He looks up at the body attached to the hand, to find the owner has longish red hair, and is just a little bit shorter than him.

And he also has a pretty scary face; he looks livid, and against his better judgement Jongin finds himself even more threatened by his aggressor’s appearance. What if this guy really does want to hurt him-more, he should say- in some way? He starts to panic a little bit, grimacing and leaning away. What has he ever done to anyone to provoke this strong a reaction?

“I need to talk to you,” his voice is surprising in its normalcy, with the apparent pent up rage lurking behind the guys expression he expected some kind of violent growl, but he sounds like any other guy might. If anything his voice is a bit soft, though he’s clearly trying to make it sound otherwise by forcing the words out of his throat as gutturally as he can.

Jongin narrows his eyes at the guy, leaning away even further, and tries again to free himself. The redhead releases him like he’s been burned, and subtly tries to wipe his hand on his clothes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jongin.

How rude. A few moments ago he might’ve been slightly interested in what this guy had to say, but not anymore. He gives him a scandalized and very offended look, and steps away backwards, and rubbing his now sore hand then turns to speed-walk off down the corridor to his lesson, which he is now unforgivably late for.

“Wait!” the guy calls out behind him, and Jongin turns his head so he’s looking over his shoulder, but doesn’t fully turn around, fully ready to make a run for it. The anonymous person lurches his leg forward, as if to make after him, but straightens it with a jerk.

He can’t stop the judgement from seeping into his brain. Usually he doesn’t give a crap about other people, just lets them get on with their lives and tries not to bother anyone else but this guys a first rate creep.

“What,” he says cuttingly. Maybe if he listens, he’ll leave him alone so he can get on with his life. Away from him. The boy-still standing still as an uncomfortable statue and glaring fiercely- clears his throat and announces,

“My name is Kyungsoo, and I need you to date me,” on second thought let’s just back away slowly, Jongin thinks, moving away from the angry boy. Said boy suddenly roars, a pitiful sound, banging his fists on his forehead and making Jongin jump.

Jongin glances around trying to gauge which would be the best way to escape; this person is clearly completely insane and needs help. The boy-Kyungsoo-has stopped beating himself up and is now pulling his hair, what Jongin thinks sounds like, “why him?” in a lamenting tone, his face a wide, twisted contortion of an expression. The scariest thing he’s seen off a TV screen, mostly Jongin has no idea how to handle anything like this.

Kyungsoo looks up at him again his eyes wide but hostile, then breaks out in another round of self-abuse, this time repeating the word ‘no’ over and over accompanied by a few choice swear words. Jongin quietly slips away, and walks as quickly as possible down the hall to the stairs, only sparing one last glance at the weird, insane kid -who is now crouched on the floor, rocking back and forth- before he bolts up to his science classroom, heart palpitating rapidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so kyungsoo has the crazies..

yep

well this is on time right? i promised within the month didnt i? yh

ok please comment and subscribe and stuff, i wanna know if people like this :)

ill update in a few days, the next few chapters are ready anyway. i guess update speed depends on interest lol