We knew that we liked each other. Yet we tried to hide it. Since the very first day I got to Korea, Jackson became my obsession. I was obsessed with the fact that I liked him, but I was even more obsessed with the fact that I was trying to hate him for our own good.

We both knew that liking each other would only end up hurting Mark, a person we both cared about so dearly. Mark liked me, a lot. More than I could even comprehend. I did too, but probably not in the same way he did. The day I realized Mark's bipolar disorder was severe, I knew that ditching him for his best friend wasn’t a safe bet, and so did Jackson. I tried to hide my feelings for Jackson by masking it with hatred. Slowly, he did the same, resulting in us eventually becoming enemies.

But deep down, I knew that I was only trying to hide the pain that was driving me insane.

Prologue

“Just do it, okay? Just do me this one favor.”

Jackson muttered, with a tough and charismatic gaze trailing into empty space. I tried to search for the slightest of eye contacts, but he wouldn’t budge. His hands were in his pocket, his eyes directed to the open window.

“Why would I do you this favor if half the time, you humiliate me on front of everyone, you insult me... Hell, you don’t even treat me like a person!” I declared in a low, yet irritated voice. My lips were dry, as was my throat.

“Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do. Can you just talk to Mark about it and move on with it? I’m sick of this!” Jackson looked as if he were trying to hold in as much as possible. This was the first time I actually saw him handle me seriously. For the most part, he treated me like a joke.

“Why should I talk to him about something like that?” I kept my words short, tilting my head to the side. He rolled his eyes and glared at me for the first time since he entered the room.

“Understand this: He is my best friend, and he likes you a lot. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know why he would like anyone as stupid as you. Anyway, the point is that he’s been really sad lately. It’s getting worrisome. You know that he has a serious bipolar disorder, and you know how scared I am that he does something stupid. But I think that it would really cheer him up if you go and speak to him. You seem to level him out.”

I blinked a few times at his odd request, blowing my hair out of my face, leaning on my left leg. Jackson, the cocky, sarcastic, immature Jackson almost looked as if he were pleading for my help, yet I could tell that he hated me. He hated me so much.

“Why are you like this?” I asked, looking intently at his blank saddened expression. “Why do you hate me so much? I never did anything to you.”

He froze for a moment, taken sort of aback from my sudden shift of subject. I waited for his answer. His lips trembled, trying to make up his words.

“Li Na,” he started to say. “Just shut up and go talk to Mark! Is that too complicated for you to understand?” he blurted, ignoring my question, his eyes growing, his face coming closer to mine. He gripped onto my left shoulder tighly, making me feel a rush of pain throughout my muscles. He was angry. I was angry. My patience had reached its limit. My arms pushed on his chest with such force, making his built frame fall to the ground in a loud thump. I was even surprised at my own strength.

Jackson sat on the floor, still looking at me in bewilderment, not believing that I had pushed him so violently.

“You have no right to tell me what to do, you bastard,” I mumbled between my breaths. “I can’t stand people like you,” I said at last, trying to drag myself out of the dance practice room, leaving him behind. My lips curled up in a smile before I heard Jackson call my name. I stopped moving forward, and gave him a slight peek. He had elbows leaning on his knees, his left hand covering his eyes. I had never seen him like this before, it scared me.

"Please, you have to help me. Please..." he muttered, his voice hardly getting out of his throat. As much as I hated it, I felt guilty leaving him there. For once, he seemed vulnerable, weak, helpless, even charming.

This was a different Jackson Wang.

My heart began to beat at an awfully fast rate.