The older blond man shifted under the blank gaze of the black-haired teenager and wondered what kind of kid he was—Inhye never talked much about her youngest (and only) brother, but from what he knew, Jung Taekwoon was introverted and didn't enjoy being around too many people. But there was something else about this kid, something almost lofty and detached.

Yang Seungho shifted again and then sighed, nodding. ❝Well, if you need anything, I'm just next door. You have to check in with me at least once a day. Inhye gave me your phone number, so I'll message you later for mine.❞ he explained, knowing that he was mostly just babbling—and to no one, it felt like.

The teenager only nodded and then waited to be dismissed.

Seungho watched him go with a frown twisting his mouth.

The moment he closed his door, Jung Taekwoon sighed and toed off his shoes, heading to the kitchen for a snack.

The apartment was too spacious, not that it really mattered. He probably wouldn't spend too much time outside his room anyway.

His parents left him both a debit card and a black card. It was too much, but he didn't say anything about it before they disappeared into the sea of faces at the airport. He wondered if they thought this would make up for their indefinite absence, but he guessed he didn't care about that either.

He walked into his room and sat down in the chair at his black desk.

Yang Seungho . . .

His sister always talked about Seungho when he was getting ready to move. Taekwoon respected her opinion and trusted her judgment and all, but he couldn't help thinking maybe she talked him up too nicely. Maybe she wanted him to feel better about having Seungho as a neighbor. He had to admit, it could have been worse.

(But why couldn't he have stayed with one of his sisters instead?)

A few boxes still littered his room, but the first thing that had come out of his luggage was his sleek white laptop. He booted it up while chewing on a dark chocolate chip granola bar, thinking more about Seungho and if they would really get along. Taekwoon wasn't exactly the poster child for social skills, and Seungho seemed like a stiff person himself. They would get along just dandy.

He sighed again.

After logging into his account, he opened his email. His eyes twinkled, trailing down the few messages in the inbox before settling on one.

To: Jung Taekwoon [ [email protected] ]
From: Zhang Yixing [ [email protected] ]
Subject: Settled in?

Taekwoon looked away from the screen and took a breath (rolling his eyes). He drank from his waterbottle.

Yixing was the only constant in his life, but sometimes he was a little too motherly and caring. They were kind of the same when it came to talking to people or being awkward in crowds, which was probably why they got along. He usually made Yixing do all the talking though, he never wanted to bother with it.

But what was he supposed to think of something like that? This was just the same as all the other moves, save his parents—honestly, he was surprised they hadn't done this to him before. Still, he was older now, maybe they thought he could take care of himself.

No need to bother with that paragraph. He continued reading.

He snorted at the weird signature.

Laid-back Yixing wasn't as cold as Taekwoon. He had just right amount of annoying and at least knew when to shut up. Taekwoon was drawn to him because of his weird chill with the bonus of never having to talk when he filled their conversations with eccentricities.

Taekwoon thought about replying to the email right then, just to be a defiant little (Yixing would scowl but smile later), but he shrugged and closed the tab to do some other mindless browsing.

The night was set in when Taekwoon closed his laptop. He got up to bring out the newly pressed uniform and give it a second look.

The school his parents stuck him in wasn't the most prestigious, but it was done-up enough with children of businessmen and other high-profile jobs. His parents actually wanted someplace more flashy but he talked him out of that because there was no point—they'd just move again as soon as he'd start settling in anyway.

The uniform was a black blazer with the school emblem on the pocket over a white, long-sleeved polo over khakis; not much different from his last two schools. Different scene, same costume.

He laid it over the back of his chair after seeing enough of it and decided to take a shower.

With a fluffy white towel hanging around his neck, Taekwoon padded into the kitchen and made a small dinner. He changed the channel of the flatscreen TV until it fell onto a futsal game he was only half-interested in, mostly paying attention to his food.

He was used to eating alone, but at least he could hear his parents talking about something boring in the background, but now . . .

The TV was just white noise for him at this point.