Chapter Two: 

[ the steel lighter ]

credits going out to the enchanted graphic shop

 ( past ) 

Everybody knows Choi Jonghoon.

My image of him is a person who's always surrounded by people. He's a magnet. It's like his mere presence can attract anybody like moths flitting to a flame to perish. Jonghoon didn't have to do anything crazy or obscene to get noticed because he stood out from the crowd by just being him.

Girls wanted to date him, boys wanted to be him. Even the teachers and parents adored him. He wasn't good, nor was he exactly bad. And, whenever he did something wrong, he managed to get away with it.

With one toothy grin, Jonghoon could turn a paper in the day late. With one smirk he could get any girl to sleep with him. With one laugh he could get the boys to guffaw along with him - even when his jokes weren't particularly funny at all. His influence on everybody is unbelievable.

On the other hand, I see Jonghoon from a different light. I think Jonghoon is lame. He's not interesting or appealing to me at all. If he hadn't had a good looking face, I'm sure his jokes would fall flat. He’s not impressive at all.

His dark fathomable eyes study me as I study him. He's wearing the school's sports uniform, a baggy sweater and loose navy pants. After I had walked out of gym class, he had followed me. We had both lied for the same reason to skip class.

From the corner of my eye, I see his fingers fish into his pocket to grab a cigarette. Ignoring him, I take a drag from own. I exhale out and watch the fog of smoke escape my mouth. It's mesmerising how smoking can be so calming. The fresh breeze, the silky wind and the trail of smoke. Now, that is what I call perfection.

Feigning sickness at gym had been worth it. I was hanging for a smoke and the thought of running laps around the gymnasium made me feel nauseous. Fitness has never been my thing. I'm horrible at sports, even thinking about gym class makes me want to wheeze – which is why sports is probably more unhealthy than smoking.

Who am I kidding? I know my rationale is stupid. I’m making excuses because I’m a lazy whenever it relates to getting fit. All I know is that smoking is better than dealing with idiots in the gymnasium trying to prove who is better than who. I know I at any form of sports, so why would I want to make a fool out of myself...when I'd prefer to take a ?

“Chaeri, can I have a light?”

This time I can't help but cast a glance back at him.

I'm surprised he knows my name. I shouldn't be, but I am. I've been in his class a few times during our high school years and we even coincidently hailed from the same elementary. However, we failed to acknowledge each other. We've never really talked to each other for the past seven years - which had partly to do with me keeping my distance.

While Jonghoon chose to be surrounded people, I chose to stay away from them. I liked being alone and I found people bothersome – especially the girls. Girls irritated me. I shouldn't be saying this about my own gender, but girls are es and I really didn't have time to deal with their dramas and rants. Hanging out with the boys had always been my thing.

“Well?” Jonghoon grumbles. His jaw is jutting outwards, bottom lip protruding in dissatisfaction as he leers at my burning cigarette with envy.

Shrugging, I toss my steel lighter to him and instantly he lights up his own cigarette.

“Skipping class too?” I ask, but it's more like a statement because it's obvious. I just don't know what to do in these situations. Talking isn't really my specialty.

“You lied about going to the sickbay,” Jonghoon mutters. “You made me want to smoke. I could smell the scent on you that I had to pretend to go to the toilet.”

I blink. Is he actually blaming me for his need to smoke?

“I didn't ask you to come out to join me,” I say back, matter-of-factly. I can't believe my first conversation with Jonghoon had to occur today and, out of all things, he's blaming me for smoking.

How pathetic.

He grumbles, "It's not like I'm asking for your company either.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I drop my cigarette. The ashes stain the grey cement as I jam my left heel into it.

What's with this guy? I really don't get what everybody sees in him. He's an idiot; a complete .

“Then I'll leave,” I tell him. “Don't even bother to give my lighter back. I don't need it.”

I'm one metre away when I feel somebody grab hold of my wrist. I glance behind me and find that it is Jonghoon’s preventing me from moving forwards.

Before I can ask him what's wrong, I notice his eyes are wide. He puts a finger over my lips, quietly asking me to not make a sound. Since he's instructing me not to speak, the best I can do is raise an irritated eyebrow at him.

Jonghoon points over at a direction behind me. I follow the direction and almost gasp out loud when I see the principal's bald head. I know that we're in deep if we move. The cigarette stench is still in the air. As silently as we can, Jonghoon and I ground ourselves behind the gymnasium building, pressing our backs onto the brick wall like we’re fugitives in an action film.

My pulse escalates as I hear the principal's steps become louder. I look on the ground and it's then that I realise that Jonghoon's still holding onto my wrist. I’m about to shrug him off, but Jonghoon gestures at the bush nearby.

As I’m about to mime a signal back to him, he's pulling me along. We almost fall onto each other as we squat down behind the bush. The bush isn't too big, nor is it too small. Yet, we have to literally shuffle our bodies closer to each other so that we can’t be spotted.

I can smell his musky cologne and the aftertaste of cigarette odour radiating from his body. I shake my head, diverting my senses to something else – like how the principal is literally standing on the spot that Jonghoon and I had been seconds ago.

“Damn school kids.” The principal bristles as he bends down and observes the cigarette stubs. “Looks like I've missed them.”

After a few minutes, that felt like hours, the principal wanders away and I finally find my breath again. Jonghoon seems to be in the same dilemma as I can feel his chest rising up and down. I don't know if I'm hot because it's him or if it's our proximity.

Flustered, I stumble away from him and as I do so our eyes meet. His lips are quirking upwards and before I know it, he's collapsing into laughter. He's holding his sides because he's beginning to cramp up from the laughter. I swear I can see tears rolling down his face.

I want to scowl at him, to hit him, to glare at him...but I can't. Instead, I join in, laughing foolishly.

My lips spread into a wide violent smile and my body feels like I'm aching from trying to suppress the laughter from being louder than it is. If we keep going at it, we'll surely blow our cover. I'm surprised that the principal hasn't stormed back outside and caught us red handed in the act.

“Idiot.” Is all I can manage to say.

Jonghoon grins back at me.

•••••••••••••••

 ( present ) 

The alarm wakes me up.

I'm close to falling back to sleep. My eyelids almost give way until I hear someone breathe besides me.

Daehyun?

No, it's not. When I can't see the familiar chocolate brown hair, I frown.

Jonghoon?

Why is Jonghoon besides me...well, more like on me?

I groan when I remember what happened last night as I attempt to shift his heavy leg off my body. Since he's lying face-down on my bed, it proves to be a difficult task. His big body doesn't budge no matter how much I try to push him off my bed. Sighing, I slip myself under his arms and worm over his legs before I masterfully escape.

During the night, he must have crawled under my bed sheets.  I frown when I see that he's shamelessly wearing only his briefs and that there's a drool stain on my beige pillow. Taking a whiff of my sheets, I frown. Jonghoon has done a great job soiling my sheets too. I've only washed my sheets a couple of days ago and now it reeks of cigarettes and liquor.

I grab a black pencil skirt and cream blouse before I hit the shower. In ten minutes I'm out. I blow dry my hair while applying a bit of blush on my cheeks and a natural coloured lipgloss. I never take long to get ready because I don't have time. Time is limited and I'd rather be focusing on my projects and getting to work on time than caring about how I look. Also, I value my sleep. I don't get how people wake up at insane hours to tend to their appearance.

My eyes wander back to Jonghoon whose head is now hanging over the bed. He's making dry-retching sounds over the dustbin.

I grab my handbag and my portfolio that I've left in the study. As I pass the kitchen, I snatch an apple. I finally make it to the front door, sliding into my leather heels and as I'm about to bend down the doorknob to leave my home, I hear Jonghoon vomiting.

Cursing at being friends with such an idiot, I exit my apartment and as I’m waiting for the elevator, I let out a sigh.

I take my phone out and scroll down to 'H'.

“Chaeri?” Somebody answers the phone with a yawn.

I respond blandly, “Good morning.”

“I wouldn't call it a good morning since you've woken me up.” The male voice replies in a cranky tone. “Do you know what time it is? 7 o'clock in the morning! Why don't you ring up during ordinary hours and when people aren't trying to sleep-”

“Ya! Shut up, Hongki!” I scold him. “Pick up your leader from mine because I'm going to be late for work and I don't have time to babysit him right now!”

“Oh...so that's where he went off to,” Hongki replied, absentmindedly.

I hang up. In front of the elevators, I pace back and forth until I find myself marching back into my apartment. It irritates me how some things haven't changed. We're old now and they're still acting like teenagers and it's always me who's picking up after their crap.

The next thing I do is tie up the plastic bag that Jonghoon's vomited in, placing a new plastic bag inside the dustbin and resting it besides Jonghoon. The said culprit is laying on his side now. The vomiting session has ended, but knowing from experience I know that it can occur again within any second.

I pick up the clothes that Jonghoon had stripped out of. He had left a trail of his clothes towards my bed. I'm lucky that no one has seen this because anybody would have mistaken this situation as something else. After folding his clothes and putting it on the bedside table, I tuck the blanket over his body. From one of the drawers, I then grab a flannel and run it under warm water. I give it a good ring before stepping out of the bathroom and chucking the flannel onto Jonghoon's face.

I step back. I sigh when the flannel stays fixed on his face. If he isn't in such a vulnerable position, I wouldn't have helped him at all. I fold the flannel and put it on his forehead. How much exactly had he had to drink this time?

Lee Hongki soon arrives. It's a good thing that he lives nearby. I could almost kiss him, but I don't want to contract STDs. Sometimes I think Hongki can be as worse as Jonghoon. The combination are trouble whenever they are together.

I spare a glance at Hongki and I can't help but smirk.

Although Hongki's just woken up, he's still looking like quite the fashionista. Leopard printed leggings, a wooly brown jumper and a dark purple beanie. I enjoy meeting up with Hongki every now and again because he's always trying different styles and always trying something different, displaying his blaring creativity.

Jonghoon's no longer my responsibility and, as I glance at Hongki, he doesn’t seem all the least bit pleased because I'm wavering the responsibility to the lead vocalist of FTISLAND.

“This is bad,” Hongki speaks, poking Jonghoon on the cheek. “What am I going to do with him? We've got practice midday and he's not even rousable. The teachers are going to drill us. This is really bad!"

“Kicking him works most of the time,” I advise him.

Hongki chuckles. “It's easy for you to do that, but if it's us guys he'll pummel us without hesitation. He has too much muscle on him that it shouldn’t be illegal.”

I watch as Hongki runs his fingers through his hair. I see a glimmer from his fairy-floss coloured painted nails and can't help but comment. “Don't tell you you've got diamonds glued on this time?”

Hongki flashes me his nail art and winks. “Of course. How cool do they look?”

“Great,” I genuinely mean it. "Your nails look beautiful."

However, I don't tell him that I'd never spend thousands on nail art. The last time I asked Hongki, he almost gave me a heart attack when he told me how much it had costed him. He was even going to recommend me to where he had it done before I had hastily changed the topic.

“Yours looks better though.”

“What?” I blink at him. I really didn't know what Hongki was talking about as I hadn't done anything to my nails since the last time I had seen him.

“That's one big diamond.”

Hongki then points at my neck and a double back. My heart races and I don't know what to do. I hadn't meant for him, or anybody, to see the ring on my white-silver necklace chain.

“Yeah,” I say, nervously. I hope he doesn't talk more about it because I'm horrible at lying.

Before Hongki interrogates me, Jonghoon slightly stirs, out loud. Saved by the bell.

I point at Jonghoon. “You'd better get him up while he's semi-conscious. Can I leave him to you? I'm late for work.”

Hongki gives me an apologetic smile, on behalf of their best friend. “We'll go now.”

I watch as the lead singer puts Jonghoon's clothes back on. I don't know how Hongki does it, but I’m sure it’s one of his acquired skills to care for him as Jonghoon being drunk was considered a normal thing. Hongki picks up the guitarist, forcing Jonghoon's arm around his neck as he drags him off the bed.

Seeing that Hongki's got everything under control, I pick up my handbag and portfolio for the second time. I really need to leave soon because I'll be late...

As I open the front door for Hongki, something falls out from Jonghoon's jacket. I squat down to pick it up. As I'm about to put it back into Jonghoon's pocket it's then I realise what the object actually is.

A lighter?

I study it in the palm of my hand and my eyes widen in surprise. It's the same steel lighter that I had given to Jonghoon back in high school.

•••••••••••••••

Last Edited: 14.03.16

03.03.14

(a/n)

 The plot to this story has already been cemented, but it was more about the structure of this story I had needed assistance with. So thanks to those who had voted here. It was a close poll. I the end, I decided to write it in the past & present. I was close to writing it in a normal pattern/order, but I want to get you confused (if that even makes sense). 

I know I've just started this story, but I really wanted to give thanks to you guys who have encouraged me with writing it since there aren't many FTISLAND fanfics around. Have a good day/night ^^