Pairing: AU Hongbin (Voodoo Doll Era)XFemaleOC(Sawyer)

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        Human emotion: the most ridiculous creation ever, right after opinions. I used to think free will was pretty stupid when I was younger. Why would God want to have his heart broken so many times by so many people rejecting Him? I've been rejected so many times; it hurts. He's brave. I'm often not. That clears that up, I guess. Then I was taught, rather, shown that free will is good. I would much rather love God out of trust than fear, which then breeds contempt. Made sense. Makes sense.

        But, the reason that I say emotions and opinions are stupid is because people abuse them way too often. Too often isn't enough to cover that abuse. They tell you you have too much hair on your arms for a girl and that you won't get a boyfriend because of it. What do you do? You obsess over body hair removal methods for years. You were in fifth grade when that happened, when that was said to you by some dumb boy who could never keep his mouth shut about anything. What did he matter? He didn't have any hair on his arms or legs, and he had chicken legs, bad teeth, and a big head. Harsh? Well, he wasn't one to talk to call me ugly, especially since I never said those truthful things about him. 

        Grr. I've let it go now. I have.

        I have.

        Well, first day of school. I'm the new kid at my high school in Seoul, and I'm not from around here. Like, not even from South Korea. My name is Sawyer Nicholas-- yes, I have two first names for my given name and surname. Laugh if you want, but know that you're disrespecting my parents' choice. Well, it wasn't really a choice. Um, yes; it was. They didn't change it after I was born. Whatever. I like my name.

        Well, pray me Godspeed, ok?

---

        Sawyer tugged on her black skirt, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her legs again. She was fine when she left the house, so why revert back to saved to when she had first tried it on and hated it? She had decided that it looked good on her and accentuated her dancer's legs and had told herself to leave it at that.

        It was three inches above her knee. Three too many. As soon as she really got a good look around, most, if not all of the girls had opted for black shorts with their uniforms instead. She knew what she was going to inquire about when she got home: asking to wear shorts instead of this accursed skirt. Cute for playing around the house with her puppy, impractical for someone who sits on the floor all of the time, even at school.

        She rebuttoned her turquoise bolero-style jacket over her white blouse and smoothed down her black, red, and white tie. The dull roar of the hallway died down, one hundred and twenty eyes snapping to the red-haired foreigner. She fought tooth and nail the urge to run away from all of the students, especially since there were a few other Westerners in the crowd. Maybe the Westerners weren't glaring, but trying to figure out who the newcomer was and see if the new girl would offer a sense of familiarity? Did it even matter? They were all human; was that familiar enough?

         The students quickly forgot about the newcomer, or at least stopped paying attention. Good.

        "Hey, new girl!" called a girl. "I'm over here." The girl was waving her hand, catching Sawyer's attention.

        "Hello. My name is Sawyer Nicholas. It's very nice to meet you. Please take care of me." Sawyer bowed deeply to the girl that had called her over.

        "I'm Kim Junghee," she said, smiling warmly with a bow. She had put her black hair in a high ponytail. "I'll show you to the principal's office. How should I call you?"

        "Sawyer's fine. Thank you for your help, Kim Junghee-ssi."

        "Of course."

 

---

        I think the day went ok past that point. I just had to find somewhere to sit at lunch. Junghee quickly found me, advised me on what to grab to eat, and practically pushed across the café to her table. I nodded politely at the two boys and three other girls sitting there, telling them my name.

        "Who's that?" I angled my chopsticks toward a boy sitting on the floor in the back left corner, nose buried in a book, headphones in his ears, lunch barely touched on the tray beside him. His black hair was cut asymmetrically so that his bangs covered his right eye. His full lips were parted slightly, head gently moving to and fro as his eyes flew over the printed words, the same way I look when absorbed in a story.

        Junghee's smile faded. She glared at him for a moment with an expression of pure, unsupressed contempt. "Oh," she said disapprovingly, turning her attention back to me. "That's Lee Hongbin. Stay away from him. He's weird. He doesn't belong here." She was starting to be such a sweet girl.

        "Who says?" I asked, trying not to become angry for the way she spoke about him. Why was I standing up for a kid I didn't even know? He looked lonely, trying hard not to let anyone near him. I wondered why. 

        "He's just plain creepy!" She put her hand on my shoulder, leaning me closer. "It's second year for him. I heard that he got kicked out of one of his old schools because he killed someone and covered it to look like a suicide."

        I rolled my eyes. "I don't believe you." I put down the egg I was going to eat and stood up.

        "What? Are you going to talk to him?" Her jaw clenched and I felt the contempt in her eyes. It was toward me.

        "Watch me," I said defiantly. I readjusted my skirt for the umpteenth time that day and slowly approached him. I swung in a wide circle to the left so he could see me. He looked up without moving his head. His heavy black eyeliner contrasted sharply with his soft pink lips. He lifted his head and flipped his hair out of his face. A faint smile crept across his features, but it quickly morphed into a feigned scowl of annoyance with his thick mane falling back onto his eye.

        He was beautiful. "Yes?" His voice was deep and soft, yet I heard it over the noise of the rest of the café. I froze, shrinking under his powerful gaze.

        "I'm Saw-"

        "Sawyer. The new girl. I know who you are. And I'm sure you've heard some less-than-desirable things about me. For the safety of your social standing, get away from me and go back where you came from. It's not too far away."

        "I don't care what other people think."

        "It's the first day of school."

        "I never had a good rep anyway."

        "Your food's going to get cold."

        "So what?"

        "You're going to be hungry."

        "You look lonely." He shut his mouth.

        "What?" he asked. "I do?"

        "Yes. I thought that I should introduce myself and hold a conversation. I haven't heard good things about you, but where I come from, people on trial are innocent until proven guilty. So, I assumed that these rumors weren't true."

        I thought I could see another little smile after I said that. "That's very kind of you. But, please; go finish your lunch."

        I bowed and returned to my seat. Junghee was shaking her head at me and clucking her tongue. She looked and sounded like a chicken.

        "You're dead," she said, "if the mean girls were watching. They'll do all kinds of things to you if you keep talking to him, and your life will be over. Trust me. You shouldn't have done that."

        I picked up an egg with my chopstick and popped it in my mouth, chewing slowly. I was trying to process just what on earth had happened.

        He was the most sane person at the school.

---

        The period right after lunch was drama. The teacher was nice, and she make a joke about Shakespeare that I understood and we had a good laugh over it.

        Hongbin looked up as I entered the room. The only open chair was on his left, so I took it. He resumed his reading. It was a thick novel in Korean that I couldn't recognize. He nodded lightly to acknowledge me. That was good enough, I decided. I put my backpack on the back of my chair and sat back in the chair so that my back was at a 135 degree angle from my hips, the best posture for the back. I stretched out my legs and crossed my feet at the ankles. It probably didn't look pretty, but I was comfortable.

        "Welcome, everyone!" smiled the drama teacher, walking to the front of the class. She sat cross-legged on the cleaner part of her desk. "Where's my new girl? Ah, there you are! Ergonomic sitting position you've got going there. You know, crossing your legs throws off your hips slightly. Putting your feet flat on the floor in front of you should fix that. There you go." The class laughed and I couldn't help but smile, too.

        "You probably know this, but my name is Miss Jung. I love Shakespeare, and naturally I'm a hopeless romantic, but I also love tragic things. Can anyone guess what we're doing?"

        One boy raised his hand. "Miss Jung, are we reading excerpts from plays?"

        "We aren't reading excerpts. We're living them. We're putting them into motion. We're bringing life to them. So, pick a partner, and I'll give you your excerpt."

        I found myself hoping that no one chose me so I could partner with Hongbin. No one even looked my direction, and that made me happy for once. Hongbin looked up slowly, shyly even. 

        "Will you be my partner?" he asked quietly.

        "Sure," I said.

        Miss Jung handed us two copies of a script. "Don't worry about memorizing it all. If you can, great! Just do your best. This is an angsty romantic one. Do you mind?"

        "No," we said at the same time.

        "There's a kiss. You can skip over it if you want."

        It bothered me that I wasn't bothered by the thought of kissing Hongbin.

        We just bowed gratefully for the scripts and looked them over silently. I could see his right hand tense up and he laughed loudly. He was forcing the spasm through his chest and it sounded pained, nervous even. I looked up.

        "You all right?" I asked.

        "Yeah," he nodded, pretending to read the script. "I admit that I'm a little nervous. I usually . . . Doing things like this make me nervous. I can sing and dance in front of people, but acting is a whole different animal. The script isn't silly, and I feel burdened to try to convey the emotions correctly."

        "Correctly? I don't know if that's the right word for it. Do you ever imagine that you are a character when you read? Do you subconsciously start eating what they eat, sleeping the same way, using the same cadence when you speak? I do sometimes. I don't know if this helps you, but do that. Put yourself in his shoes. Crawl into his skin."

        Hongbin nodded. "That does help. But, I have to ask: When is your birthday? I'm September 29th."

        "I'm February 19th. And my blood type is B. Legally, that's what it is. Personality wise, am I a type B?"

        "That makes you my noona," he smiled. He had a ridiculously wide, warm smile and a pair of the cutest dimples I had ever seen. "I thought you seemed like a type B. I'm a type B, too."

        I'm a noona. This was new to me; all of the other guys I had made friends with were my parents' work colleagues.

        "I guess I am!" I smiled back.

        "How are you coming with the script?" I noticed that his ears had become quite red.

        "I think I have it mostly memorized. You?"

        "I think I'm all right. Would you like to practice a few times?"

---

         We didn't practice once with each other. I had insisted that it would capture the emotions in the piece much better, but I suddenly wanted to practice by the time the third pair went up to perform. My heart was pounding and my teeth chattered a bit. A warm hand rested on my forearm and gave it a soft squeeze. Hongbin gave me a pleasant, reassuring dimple smile. He had pushed his dark hair out of his eyes and stuck a beanie over it to keep it back, and I got a chance to look at his features: strong jawline, full lips, dark brow, straight nose, pretty teeth.

        "You look like a totally different person with your hair pushed back," I whispered.

        He smiled even wider, nose crinkling, his face nearly exploding with happiness in his silent laughter. "Thank you," he said, dropping his head and closing his eyes. He looked a little embarrassed.

        "Did I embarrass you?"

        He shook his head. Hongbin looked up, suppressing a smile. "How should I call you?" he asked.

        "Sawyer's just fine."

        "No, it isn't. I'm a dongsaeng to you, so would you be offended if I called you noona?"

        "You . . . you want to call me noona? A lot of guys look at it like a punishment. So I've heard."

        "No, not at all, noona." The word was new, foreign to me. No one had ever called me noona.

        "Hongbin and Sawyer!" Miss Jung called, waving us up to the little stage. We clutched our short scripts, but ended up discarding them on our chairs. "Whenever you're ready."

        Hongbin sat, sorry, laid down on the ground, hat missing and hair in his face once more. The creaking of eight chairs sounded as the second and third rows of students leaned forward to get an unobstructed view of the performance. I swallowed thickly. If they were paying attention this much, they would see everything that we did.

        I slowly walked up to him, kneeling next to him and cradling him in my arms. His nose nuzzled into the lapel of my jacket. I pushed his bang out of his eyes. Now or never.

        "Are you all right, jagiya?" I asked. I stopped being Sawyer in that moment. "You don't look it."

        He rested his forehead against my chin. His hair was soft and reminded me of my Westie, Shelby. I reached up, slowly, slowly. I pushed his bangs out of his face and lifted his chin. His eyes were red, tears welling up in them.

        "If I said I was okay, would you say that I'm lying?" His bottom lip trembled.

        "Yes." I continued to his hair. He furiously wiped at his eyes, black smudges on his fingers.

        "You deserve better. Leave me now. Please. Just go. You don't want me."

        "I do deserve better. I should leave. I don't want you." A look of pure terror crossed his face.

        "Really?" His face grew pale and he looked like he was about to explode.

        "Someone better for me isn't possible because you have loved me throughout everything and you've been so patient. You are a dying breed of men that really know how to make broken women like me feel like someone. I should leave, but I refuse to. It would be stupid of me to leave you for someone else, because I would die because I was missing half of my heart. I don't want you. I need you. I can't really put into words how I feel about you, so I tried to show it. What was said to you that made you feel this way?"

        "I don't know. I just . . ." Tears were streaming down his face. I gently wiped his cheeks with my thumb. "They all hate me. You know they do. But, I now know that I really, truly I have you to love and be loved."

        I shook my head. Oh, no. This was it. Should I kiss him, or just lean in and let him meet me? What to do?

        Hongbin reached up, placing a hand in my hair, bringing me closer to him and he closed the gap so I wouldn't have to make my neck hurt. I was just expecting a chaste peck on the lips, but he put his face as close to mine as he could. He turned his head to the right, eyes slowly closing. I did the same. It was like some unknown fire was ripping through my belly, electricity coursing through my veins. The class started applauding, but neither of us pulled away. Neither of us could pull away. Neither of us wanted to pull away.

        Hongbin sighed, deepening the contact. I started shaking a little for some reason I still can't explain. He let his hand in my hair slide slowly down to my cheek.

        "Sawyer," he said weakly. "Sawyer." Schmack. He looked at me intently. This time he had tears in his eyes for a different reason. He put a fake smile on his face, stood up, helped me up, and we took our bows. I didn't catch what Miss Jung had said because he took off running, off of the stage, through the room, and into a storage closet with me at his heels.

        "I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry." He fell to his knees, laying on the stone floor, forehead to the ground. I knelt beside him again, patting his shoulder awkwardly. What was I supposed to do when a guy cried?

        "Why are you sorry?" I asked half-heartedly. I didn't want to make him talk; he looked obviously upset over something.

        He sat up, the dark circles under his eyes a little bit bigger. "You might not remember this, but I lived in the U.S. for a while. It was when I was about five to ten years old. We grew up together. Do you remember? I was always really quiet, strange even, and you were the only person who would talk to me. Remember that summer when you said-"

        "When I said that I'd marry you and love you forever. I remember that fondly."

        "We were inseparable. I remember kissing you a few times. We were probably six. I just kept doing it one day and you just punched me in the gut and then went back to playing with your doll, our baby. Do you remember that?" He repositioned his body to lay on his side and put his head on his hand. His eyes were still terribly red, but he was smiling a little.

        I took his other hand, the left, in mine and almost started crying. All of these memories came flooding back to me. I remembered a left-handed boy who was shunned by the other kids. I remembered punching a little boy for kissing me on the lips seven or eight times in a row. I remember a little boy picking up my doll after I had accidentally dropped her. I remember watching him cuddle her in his arms like she was a real baby, smooth down her hair, fix her little pink sunhat, and give her back to me carefully. I remembered a little boy with dimples who held my hand all of the time at school, my right, his left. I remember beating up an older, bigger boy who kept picking on him.

        "I remember doing all of these things with you," I began slowly, "but I don't remember your face. After you had to move back to Korea with your family, I think my brain deleted what you looked like. It was traumatic losing my best friend like that. I think people who run into things like that are better than people who don't. Their hearts love them so they get rid of the things that would cause grief. Like selective forgetfulness, I think. Maybe forgetting what you looked like protected me from completely shutting down."

        Hongbin nodded. He looked more than a little shocked, but he was trying to understand what I had said. "I think I get it," he said. "You know, Sawyer, I always loved you. I may have been kind of little, but I knew I needed to be with you. I'm sorry to kiss you that way. I'm ashamed of my actions. I just knew it was you. No one else has a mark like that."

        Mark? "What mark?" I asked. 

        He laughed quietly. "The one on your shin. I saw it at lunch and just about died. I thought I had lost you forever." My hand flew to the mulberry-colored birthmark on my right shin. It used to be darker when I was younger. And the skirt I wore made it more than a little obvious.

        I blushed. "I don't know what to say," I mumbled. He let go of my hand; Miss Jung popped her head into the room.

        "Lee Hongbin, are you all right?" she asked.

        Hongbin sat up. He looked way less bothered than he did a minute ago. "Yes, Miss Jung. Just fine. Thank you for coming to see about me."

        "Well, ok. Whenever you're ready to rejoin the class, please do so." She left with a small smile.

        I stood up and held up my hand to help him up. He took my forearm and I pulled him onto his feet. I showed him the front-facing camera on my phone so he could attempt to get rid of the black smudges on his cheeks.

        "Close enough," he laughed, swiping at the liner.

        "Hongbean, I always loved you, too, even if I didn't show it." Blush. Dimples. Pretty, deep dimples.

        I put my phone back into my pocket and followed him out of the small room. We quietly resumed our seats. No one noticed us; they were too busy cringing at the couple's performance of a scene from a bad American movie.

        I held Hongbin's left hand; he held my right. It felt so familiar, so complete. He squeezed my hand and I placed our entwined fingers on his lap. Dimples and a lip bite. His free hand covered his face.

        "What?" I asked.

        "Nothing," he whispered. The bell rang.

        "All right," Miss Jung said after the last couple had resumed their seats. "Thank you, everyone! Great work today! It was a pleasure working with you students today." I put on my backpack and picked up the rest of my stuff. The other students and I exchanged bows with the teacher and thanked her for class. 

        I stepped into the hall and Hongbin's hand slipped into mine. I looked over at him.

        "Do you want to do that?" I asked.

        "Yes. We shouldn't have to explain ourselves, noona. I don't care what they have to say, because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. Do you care what they think?"

        "I always tell myself I don't but I apparently do sometimes. I should only hide if I've done something wrong, which I haven't." He smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and let his hand linger over my cheek.

        "You never let me touch your hair before. What changed, noona?"

        I shrugged. "I was still a baby back then. I didn't understand touches that didn't come from family, I suppose."

        "Where's your locker, noona?" I pointed in the general area of the metal door.

        Junghee glared at me from the next section of lockers. I stopped trying to enter my combination and smiled pleasantly. The grip on my right hand tightened.

        "Are you trying to spite me by doing this?" she snarled, walking over with her hands firmly on her hips. "I told you to stay away from it and then you go and make out with it and now you're holding its gross hand."

        "I'm not doing anything--" I started furiously.

        "Noona," Hongbin warned. "You said you weren't going to explain, right?" He looked like he was about to cry again, my sensitive namdongsaeng.

        "You, know," I said, turning to Hongbin, "I don't think that I needed anything out of my locker. What do you have next period? I have math."

        He let me lead him away from the girl with whom I thought I could be friends. "Don't be late for class, Kim Junghee-ssi!" I said with genuine sincerity. I knew to stay away from her. She was one of those girls whose personalities I really hated: sweet, cute and charming on the outside, but proved to be complete sharks once you got to know them or mentioned a certain person, which she had done. 

        "What should I call you two losers? 'The Outsiders'?" She wouldn't stop talking. But we were a good forty feet away from her by that time.

        Hongbin had really started to cry again. "Noona," he sobbed.

        "Why are you crying?" I asked, letting go of his hand and wrapping my arm around his waist.

        "Because she might try to hurt you, and if not her then someone else. And I was avoiding these things so well by keeping my head down and my mouth shut and not doing anything new."

        "You can't live your life like that. I know." We bowed to the math teacher and he pointed us to two seats at a table where we could sit. "I've tried. But, I'll be here for you, Hongbin-ah. Just like when we were little."

        He smiled. "But," I continued, "can we start with a haircut? I want to see your beautiful face more than this."

        "Ok, noona!" he said. "Hey, um, can I borrow a pencil? Mine are all in my locker."

        I punched him in the arm. "Jigeum jangnanhanya?" I asked.

        He patted my hair. "You really haven't changed a bit, noona. Don't ever change, please."

        "Do you need a pencil or not, Lee Hongbin-ah?" I rolled my eyes.

        "No," he said, kissing my cheek. I blushed, dropping my head on my crossed arms. He had pulled away the second the teacher stepped in the room.

        "Ok," came the teacher's low, yet gentle voice. "Oh! Miss New Student, are you all right?"

         I lifted my head, pushing my hair back and out of my eyes. "Yes, sir. Thank you for being concerned." I bowed my head and he smiled. Hongbin pinched the side of my knee and I jumped. I used to hate when he did that--

         Little stinker Hongbean.

         Dear God, thank you for bringing me back to the boy with dimples, the boy I loved. 

 

---

A/N: I'm going to work on a poster and put it up for this. You know, if you would like to see posters for oneshots. I need the practice so I can get better and make petty things for you darlings and lovelies. I like you guys.

Hongbean: I do, too!

Sawyer: You seem pretty cool. You smiled, so you're already pretty awesome. 

Me: Yeah; what Sawyer said. /random hugs all around/

Sawyer: /hugs/

Hongbean: /giggles, hand over face/ Awwww! /hugs/

Me: Thank you for your support!