“Hurry!” Lu Han yells, cowering behind a pot cover. “Before Yixing gets back!”

There’s a rabble of girly screams in the kitchen and Sehun clumsily douses the stovetop with a bucket of water from the bathroom. Steam sizzles from the black top and it hisses angrily before finally dying out. Not bad for his first official day as the new roommate.

Minseok pokes his head from behind the sofa that served as his fortress against the disaster before him. From the very beginning, Minseok adamantly stated his accurate opinion that making pot ramyun themselves was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. “Is it safe, yet?”

“I think it’s okay,” Sehun says, fanning the smoke away from his brown eyes and rainbow hair. He tosses the bucket aside and it falls sideways on the kitchen corner. “Ah. There goes our snack,” he mutters regretfully.

“It was worth a try,” Lu Han offers sympathetically, carefully setting the lid on top of the pot half. “I did warn you my master chef skills only covered adding an egg to pot ramyun.” And even then it didn’t always lead to an edible end.

Sehun pouts and purses his lips. “We should’ve just gone to Mrs. Lee’s.” The convenience store was just around the corner and three blocks away. A good bike ride, perfect in this weather.

“We should have just called Yezi over.” Minseok joins the other two in front of the crime scene. None of them had yet to make a move to clean up the mess despite Yixing’s imminent return. “We wouldn’t have died from starvation if we waited for her or Yixing.” Then as an afterthought, he adds, “Starvation is still better than burning down the building because of a failed ramyun attempt.”

“Yezi has class until five,” Lu Han answers, smiling. “But she said she’ll drop by after her tutoring session. She’s meeting a new student today and she says she’s going to need full support after. Her mom sent over some beef from the shop, too. She called Yixing and says he’ll do the grocery shopping with Wufan after their class.”

“Yes! Finally. Real food.”

“What’s happening tonight?” Sehun asks. “Are you guys celebrating something?”

Minseok answers. “Yezi’s Lulu’s friend. Her dad’s a butcher and sometimes her mom sends some beef over from their shop. Best beef ever.”

“To help motivate us,” Lu Han adds. “They’re great people. They always send enough for a barbecue party. Her dad cooks the best food ever.”

“Am I invited?” Lu Han and Yixing were SMA graduates from the Beijing Institute and Minseok was a senior when Sehun was a first year. Sehun wasn’t close enough to them to be considered good friends. Except for Lu Han who spent a semester as a transfer student at the Seoul Institute. It was Lu Han who offered him the vacant spot in the apartment, and Sehun all too happily took him up on his offer to be his bunkmate. And good thing that he did.

The room is everything Sehun imagines a college room to be like. The common room begins with a mess of shoes and socks by the door, and the couch ahead is buried underneath jackets and boxes of takeout. Only the PS3 and the Wii and the flatscreen are in any presentable condition and the floor around it is sacred as it should be. Two rooms, each with bunk beds complete the set-up. No doors, Sehun notes. They don’t like doors inside the unit. Except on the bathroom.

“Of course you’re invited,” Lu Han says, “You need to meet Wufan and Yezi anyway. But don’t you have tutoring today?”

“Mhm,” Sehun answers, happily tilting his head from side to side. If all went according to plan however, he wouldn’t have time to be in this party thing and the Wufan and the Yezi frequently mentioned would just have to wait. “I have a date with Destiny.”

Sehun met Yewon in, his opinion, the best of circumstances. On the second semester of his third year in high school, Class 3-C welcomed a new Math trainee teacher. Rumor had it they were finally getting some female presence in their boring, tedious, testosterone-filled lives, and they had not been disappointed when Im Yewon stepped through the door. His least favorite subject became his favorite class, and he wasn’t the only one. What followed could be considered the best of 3-C and the worst of Im Yewon. Although in Sehun’s opinion, it was the best possible scenario for the both of them. Collectively. On her last day, Sehun asked her out. Her answer: try again next year.

Try again next year is better than an outright no, and Sehun is anything but easily discouraged. So he sits at the Student Center, incongruously named Heaven, waiting patiently for her arrival.

In his mind, several possible scenarios branch out as soon as Yewon walks into the study room. She would come in, dressed prettily in a pair of jeans and her favorite dark green pullover. Like the first time she walked into the classroom, and unknowingly into his heart, Yewon would purse her lips and her eyes would make a sweep of the room. Sehun would be there, waiting, of course. She would find him, and with a small huff she’d sit across him.

Without a doubt, his favorite would be the straightforward approach in which Yewon is not given a chance to react at all. As soon as she sits down, Sehun would say “Let’s cut the crap. Go out with me” and she would nod dumbly, impressed by his confidence and awestruck at his hair, and follow him out for that date.

That’s right. Go manly man and do it right. He’s all grown up now.

He waves at Yewon as soon as he sees her through the doors of Heaven, and she scowls instantly at him. Like he predicted, she’s wearing her favorite pullover. “You haven’t changed at all, Yewon,” he says as she falls into the seat across him. He opens his mouth to deliver his winning line, but she cuts him off first.

“What did you do to your hair?” she squeaks, somewhere between shocked and flummoxed. “You look like a unicorn puked all over you.”

He consciously runs his fingers over his fringe. Last night, with Yixing’s encouragement, he finally took a leap of faith and dyed the rest of his hair. Because he couldn’t decide what color he wanted, he went for the next best option “All the easier for you to find me. Aren’t I considerate?”

“You look like a unicorn pooped all over you,” she says, exasperated.

He clears his throat and goes for the kill—

Strange wheezing noises come out of . “You. Stoneface. What is wrong with you? Have you seen yourself?”

“Well…” He really needs to get her to stop calling him Stoneface. Sehun, has after all, moved on to calling her by her given name. No woman in her right mind would go out with a guy who calls her noona.

Her flush gives way to red splotches on her cheeks and forehead. “And what were you thinking! Dragging Joonmoney into this!”

“What? Who?”

“What is wrong with you?” she repeats, almost on the verge of passing out. She drops her head on the table with a muffled thump “Oh god, Stoneface. What is wrong with you?”

“Are...you okay?”

“No.”

“So we’re not going out tonight?”

“No! What are you talking about?” She breathes in, holds it for a moment, and exhales through . Yewon did this a lot in class, too. Especially when someone said or did something stupid. Or when he would deliberately take his time solving a problem on the chalkboard. “So.” She straightens up and lays her palms flat on the table. “Okay. I know you’re actually good at math, so what is this all about?”

Sehun shrugs innocently. He hated math class, but not necessarily the subject. “I need help for college level math.”

“No, you don’t!” Her outburst earns shushes and judging stares from the other occupants of the room. She glares back at the other students and they turn away. “I know your grades. You at everything but math.”

“That was high school. This is different.”

“It’s the first week,” she says through gritted teeth. “You’re a first year. It’s Algebra.”

“Yewon, you really need to chill. You’re sort of shrill right now.”

“Sh-shrill?” Yewon pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.  She takes another deep breath. “Is it really your life’s mission to torture me?”

“When did I ever?”

She gives him a look. One that conveys all her aggravation and more. “You really don’t know?”

“I might have an idea, but please refresh my memory?” Sehun grins and tilts his head to the left. “It’s been a whole summer without you.”

“Stoneface, it would take far too long than this session allows for me to tell you everything, every single thing you do that tortures me.”

“I have all night.”

“Well I don’t.”

“I’m free tomorrow night.”

“Well I— No. Okay? Just stop making my life miserable, please.”

“I didn’t realize I have such an impact on your life.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” So maybe for Yewon, the day they met wasn’t the best of circumstances, but Sehun still asserts his side of the story as the side of truth. “Why’d you do this? Why’d you sign up for this?” And now here she is, desperately asking him why.

He shrugs, smiling deprecatingly to himself. “Because Yewon, it’s so hard asking you out.”

“I told you—”

“Try again. You told me, when I asked you out, to try again.”

Yewon closes with an audible snap of her teeth. Her nostrils flare angrily at him and Sehun’s lips spread into a tight-lipped grin. “You.” She jabs a finger to his direction but pauses midway whatever she’s meant to say.

“Me?”

“Textbooks, library. Or if you have the budget, you can get them from the bookstore or the student orgs. You get an hour every Thursday night. Seven sharp. No extensions. If you’re late, you’re late. I don’t care. We’ll go through the sample exams and worksheets. If you try anything funny, I will maul you.”

She stands up and dusts off her sleeves. “Orientation over. Now, I need to be somewhere. I really don’t want to see you next Thursday, but see you next Thursday.”

Sehun follows her out of Heaven and down the street. “Wait! Just like that?”

Yewon ignores him and continues walking off to her next destination. Sehun scrambles to unlock his bike from the racks and catch up to her. He pushes his bike alongside her. “Need a ride?” He bought a spare helmet just for the occasion. Especially after Yewon lectured him on traffic safety a few days into her training.

“Go away.”

“It’s faster.”

“I’d rather walk and get attacked by rabid wolves than get on that bike with you.”

He clutches his chest in mock hurt. “I won’t let you fall.”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Then what’s the point?” They make a turn at the south gate exit and on the way to Mrs. Lee’s.

Yewon mutters unintelligibly to herself and quickens her walking pace. Sehun catches up easily, still curious about her next destination. They pass by the park and Yewon eyes him suspiciously from her periphery.

“Are you seriously going to follow me?”

“My dorm is this way,” he answers, vaguely pointing to the proper direction. “Where are you going anyway?”

She keeps her eyes forward, though Sehun doesn’t miss the way her eyes roll to the side. “None of your business. Stop following me.”

“I’m not following you, I’m walking next to you. I told you, my dorm is this way.”

They pass by the basketball courts and the mini track oval, past the small garden patch and the foot bridge to another park. Before the bridge, is a six story complex. Sehun’s building. “Where are you going?” he asks again.

“Don’t follow me,” she answers, entering the dorm premises and up the stairs. Sehun brings his bike up the stairs with her. “I told you don’t follow me!”

His gut rolls in sudden anticipation when she gets off the fourth floor and heads straight to the unit at the end of the hall. She turns to him, and snaps. “I’m here, are you happy now? Now go.”

Sehun walks into the room with her, but she’s already too occupied to notice. “Roo? Why didn’t you tell me you needed a roommate? I needed a room. How could you do this to me?”

Lu Han emerges from their room. “We don’t have doors, remember? I can’t have you around when there are guys walking around here. How was the session? You sounded like an emergency this morning.” Then to Sehun he says, “Hey. You’re here, too. You’ve met?”

Yewon turns around in slow motion and the look on her face is of shock horror.

“Yezi, this is our new roommate, Sehun. He’s from SMA too. I think he could’ve been in the year level you taught over there.”

Sehun raises his right hand. “Yo.”

“Why don’t you have doors,” Yewon mutters, dangerously low. She grabs a fistful of Lu Han’s shirt and drags him into the bathroom.

Sehun hears the lock clicking in place followed by angry Chinese ranting, and he turns to Minseok for answers.

“I don’t know either,” Minseok says, shrugging. “That’s pretty normal around here, though. Get used to it.”

“They know each other?”

“They’ve known each other forever. Yixing’s grilling our dinner on the roof deck. I’ll introduce you to Wufan there.” Minseok waits for him by the front door, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. They’re gonna be there a while. Yezi’s rantings usually take an hour, unless it’s really bad then it’ll take all night. I genuinely feel bad for Lu Han sometimes.”

Sehun takes a step closer to the bathroom. “Do you understand what they’re saying?”

“Just a little bit. Something about a ruining her life for good and the state of her karma.”

“They do this a lot?”

Minseok links their arms together and pulls him out the door. “A lot. This is going to take a while.”

Sehun lags behind, craning his neck, hoping to hear Yewon slip into Korean or anything he would understand. “Like how long?”

Minseok doesn’t budge no matter how hard Sehun pulls him back, and he’s hopelessly dragged to the roof by the shorter Minseok. “Like I said, an hour if it’s not a big deal, and the whole night if she’s in some crisis.”

“But—” Sehun stumbles on his words the way he stumbles on the stairs. He should have known better than underestimate Minseok because of his height and his cute face.

On the roof, is Yixing in his apron, stoking the grill and fanning the smoke away. “Oh, hi Sehun,” he says, in that odd, almost drunk-sounding accent of his. Yixing never looks quite right where he should be. “Did you have a good tutoring session? Was your tutor nice?”

Sehun doesn’t get to answer when Minseok explains the downstairs situation first. “Yezi’s here, but she’s in the middle of an emergency with Lu Han. So you should go ahead and make dinner while waiting.”

“She’s here?” says the other guy in the room. Sehun has seen his face around campus. Jongdae says this is the guy who should be wary of Sehun’s presence on campus. In Kim Jongdae’s words, Oh Sehun, King of Do Not Want, a rival to Kris Wu’s Chronic Resting Face Syndrome. “What’s wrong?” he asks, half standing from his seat.

“That’s unfortunate. She promised she’ll help cook,” Yixing muses out loud. “Can someone help me fan while I get the meat?”

“Just the usual,” Minseok replies, walking over to Yixing to help. “Maybe you can persuade her to come up here and rant later.”

“What’s she ranting about?” Kris asks, standing to his full height.

“Something about Life Ruiners.”

Kris shakes his head but whatever he’s poised to say next is put on hold when his phone starts to ring. He answers in fast, pointed Chinese that sounds too foreign and almost angry to Sehun’s ears. He redirects whatever he’s saying to Yixing whose answer is also in his native tongue.

Sehun’s lips twitch into a tight frown. Too much back story he’s missed out on. The kind he can’t just jump recklessly into. Yewon is part of it too, as he’s come to discover. His deal with Destiny handed him a double edged weapon. On one side, he just wedged a toe into Yewon’s door, and all that’s left is a little push until he’s all the way through. However, on the other side of it, is a reminder that he remains a stranger to her and to this new group. He will always have come later. Even if he does establish inside jokes of their own, how much more will he never be part of? How do you make your mark when back story is against you? More importantly, Yewon and Lu Han, quite possibly his two most favorite people in the world right now. What of them?

“You’ll get used to it,” Minseok offers sympathetically, breaking his reverie. “Anyway, he’s just saying we’re getting another dinner guest,” he says, “Wufan’s roommate.”

Kris ends the call and finally acknowledges Sehun. “Hey,” he says, voice deep and bored. “Kris.”

“Sehun.” His introduction is just as cold, punctuated and succinct. A moment of assessment passes before Kris jerks his chin to end it.

“I’ll go check on Yewon,” he says, in Korean this time. “Zitao says he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

“Tao? Huang Zitao?”

“Yeah. From Human Kinetics. You know him? He’s my roommate.”

Sehun nods. “Small world.”

“Yeah,” Kris answers, walking past him and to the door. “Small world.”