Monday comes far too quickly, in Chanyeol’s opinion.

After Jongin left, the rest of his weekend turned into a fiasco, with him making sure his siblings were well fed, and him working his shift from noon to nine at the grocery mart - along with the odd job he had to do to come up with money for Haeun’s field trip on Tuesday - and of course, him having to deal with the absence of his friends. Though his friends never knew the extent of his home situation, it was still nice when he could call Joonmyun and Minseok and invite them over, under the pretense that his mother would be out for a few hours and he needed help babysitting. All of his friends have always been none the wiser of his home situation, and he supposes it will stay that way as they apparently want nothing to do with him.

And, yet, here Chanyeol is on Monday, in the school parking lot five minutes before the bell rings, calming himself down before he enters the building; he’s also having a mental debate between texting Jongin to see if everyone is skipping because he’d rather not have to see Baekhyun today, or heading to class because he doesn’t know if he’s ready to see Taemin’s smug face, or Jongin’s concerned expression either. And, that’s two versus one, so he guesses the battle he’s picking is Baekhyun.

Sighing, Chanyeol steps out of his car, and he nearly gets his jacket stuck in his door when he closes and locks it; then he heads to his first period history class, a class he has by himself. He manages to arrive a minute before the bell rings, but arriving on time certainly doesn’t bring him any extra clarity or focus, seeing as less than twenty minutes into the lecture, Chanyeol falls asleep and doesn’t wake up until the jarring sound of the bell interrupts his sleep.

Thankfully, his next two periods, drama and English, are classes that he also has by himself, which gives him even more time to psych himself up enough to deal with not only Baekhyun and the rest of his friends, but Jongin and their friends as well. From all the mental stress he’s endured for the past few days, he can’t remember any of his lines in the play he is practicing in drama, so he walks off stage with his typical, “nothing’s wrong” grin and races to the bathroom under the pretense of really having to go (instead of having to calm himself down mentally). English class is even more draining, where he can’t seem to construct even the simplest of sentences correctly, making him lay his head down on his desk shamefully and groan quietly to himself.

The most dreaded period ever happens to be next: Literature. Not only does he still sit beside Baekhyun in the class, but he also has Jongin’s wandering eyes that will be watching him the entire period more than likely, and he probably will have to explain to his teacher where he was three out of five days last week during the class period. Chanyeol genuinely tries to find Taemin before the bell rings so that they can skip together, but realizing that he can’t afford to miss any more days from the period (and he didn’t see Taemin anywhere), Chanyeol drags himself into the classroom ten seconds before the tardy bell.

He doesn’t know why it feels like a cliche high school movie, where the one kid is shunned or ostracized for doing something dramatic and all his classmates are staring at him lowly and bemusedly, but that’s exactly how Chanyeol feels as he walks with his head down to his desk beside Baekhyun, until he realizes that Baekhyun and Jongdae have switched desks and he’s actually beside Jongdae now. He heaves another sigh and lays his head on his desk, preparing to fall asleep in resignation just like he eventually did in English and history.

“Okay class, since we’ve been preparing for your SATs and other standardized tests, it’s been a while since we’ve read out of the book. Let’s begin at chapter thirteen, and then we’ll discuss what we’ve read.” After seeing most of his students cooperating, he reads, “I walked all the way back to the hotel…”

Chanyeol knows he should be rather attentive after having missed so many days, and he still wants to maintain his good GPA and potential for valedictorian; however, at this point, he finds that he doesn’t really care about any of that because he’s so emotionally and mentally drained. Besides, it’s not as if he could actually pay attention anyway, what with all the distractions surrounding him.

Every few lines, Jongdae looks over at him with sincere concern in his eyes; at one point he mouths, “Are you alright?” and though Chanyeol understands, he shrugs his shoulders as if he couldn’t. Beside Jongdae, Baekhyun intentionally never looks his way during the entire book reading, which is unusual for him because before, when they were friends, he would try to make jokes during the lesson, or try to catch Chanyeol’s attention while he did something stupid, or conspire with Chanyeol to mess with the attentive Jongdae. It’s unlike Baekhyun to truly be immersed in a book, so to Chanyeol, it’s very obvious that he’s still mad at him. All the way across the classroom, Jongin doesn’t even have the book open, and he stealthily stares at Chanyeol, hoping the latter doesn’t notice him, but Chanyeol does, and the burning feeling of constantly being watched is perhaps the most distracting thing yet.

“I didn’t thank her or anything. I’m glad I didn’t.” The teacher finishes, and woah he’s already read the entire chapter?

“Now class, what is the major conflict in this chapter?”

As per usual, most of his classmates respond with illegitimate answers, not that he could do any better, having not paid any attention to the chapter.

“That he turned down a e?” Some kid answers.

“That he’s a compulsive liar?” Someone else says, and Chanyeol mentally groans and rereads the last page, hoping to find the answer, because somehow, he knows that neither of those answers are correct.

There are a few seconds of silence until he hears someone sigh and another voice murmur, “Maybe it’s the conflict, or contrast, or tension between Holden’s fleeting innocence and growing uality. A harsh conflict between the phony adult world and the innocent child world. It’s a conflict of him growing up or staying in the secluded world of innocence.” Chanyeol looks up at that voice, realizing that it’s Jongin’s from the first word, and when his eyes meet Jongin’s, the intense look he gives Chanyeol makes him want to look away, yet somehow he’s so mesmerized that it’s impossible.

“Yes, that’s right,” His teacher mumbles, a little awestricken. “Good job. Very good. Class, write in your journals, describing this chapter, and please, feel free to do a bit more introspection and analysis.”

Chanyeol still feels Jongin’s eyes boring into him, but for the first time today, Chanyeol puts in enough effort to do at least some school work, if only to distract himself from his other distractions, notably Jongin’s concerned gaze.

-

His next class is math, and it’s the first class he has solely with Baekhyun. He has never noticed until now how little he has interacted with the rest of his class as it’s always been him and Baekhyun laughing in the back of the class, or him and Baekhyun pairing up to do a project, or him and Baekhyun speedily working through class work together, or Baekhyun turning to him when he needs help on a certain problem. As Chanyeol surveys the room for other students he knows, he sees only five or six distantly familiar faces, and they’re definitely not close enough for Chanyeol to sit by them for the rest of the year.

Baekhyun, once again, doesn’t acknowledge his existence when he sits down beside him; instead he takes out his phone and texts Jongdae, probably. Chanyeol sighs at his friend’s antics and tries to prevent himself from texting Jongin, but he ultimately fails after fifteen minutes of class with his teacher droning on while pointing at a chart of easily understandable trigonometric functions (even in his dazed state, Chanyeol still grasps math better than most people), and Baekhyun still hasn’t said a word to him or even looked at him.

Sent 11:47

Baek still hasn’t talked to me.

Received 11:48

I’m sorry. (⌣_⌣”)

“If you see here,” his teacher drawls as he redraws the functions from his chart on the dry-erase board, “the sine function and the cosine function….”

Received 11:48

At least Jongdae talked to you. ^^

Chanyeol hears the scribbles of other students meticulously taking notes, the muted vibrations from Baekhyun’s phone, letting him know he has a text, the clunk of a backpack dropping to the floor by someone near him whose name he doesn’t know-

Sent 11:50

He tried anyway.

Received 11:50

What class do you have rn?

Sent 11:52

Math. w/ Baek.

Chanyeol concludes that he has had such a difficult time focusing today because of all the distractions entwining with his daily life and taking away his attention. He shouldn’t notice the sound of a water fountain right outside of his classroom pouring water; he shouldn’t cringe at the sound of a dry-erase marker squeaking across the board; he shouldn’t be able to see the obvious, yet transparent, brick wall Baekhyun has built between the two, but he does. He notices them all, and he’s noticed far too many unusual aspects since Saturday, when he-

His mind calms again when he sees his phone’s screen light up with a new message.

Received 11:53

Class is over in like 20 min. You can do it!! ヽ(；▽；)ノ

He looks over at his friend who hasn’t met his eyes today, and he wonders, can he do it? Can he continue-

He pulls his attention back to his phone and reads Jongin’s newest text.

Received 11:53

Sit with me at lunch today?

What other options does he have? Sit with his usual friends and experience the silent treatment from everyone (except maybe Jongdae) and witness all of his friends building their own additions to Baekhyun’s brick wall?

No he’d rather not.

Sent 11:55

Are your friends serving lunchtime detention today?

Chanyeol doesn’t know if he’s ready to face their friends after they saw him during one of his weakest states. How would they act, now that none of them are under the influence? Would they bring up his friends? Would they bring up his and Jongin’s-

Received 11:56

As of now, no they will all be there.

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or panicked that everyone will be at lunch. Surely lunch with just Jongin would be better than the others questioning him about his friends, and why he left early on Saturday, and-

No, lunch with just Jongin would surely be worse than that because the other boy would continue his interrogation session from where he left off on Saturday.

Received 11:56

Stop texting me during math class! You need math! Text me during band or drama or some class that won’t tarnish your GPA if you don’t pay attention.

“... And we see that the Y-intercept of a sine function is…” His teacher intones, facing the board and making a point on the Y-axis.

Sent 11:57

And here I was, thinking I could text you if I needed anything. ヾ(´･ ･｀｡)ノ”

Chanyeol faintly hears another student ask for something, and after the bang of a classroom door shutting ades the room, he assumes he or she asked to go to the bathroom.

Received 11:57

/sigh. Do you actually need anything?

“... As I was saying, the difference between a sine function and a cosine function is extremely simple…”

The clicking of the clock distracts him from his phone and the lesson; the steady pulse of clicks eases him into a disordered state of mind. Firstly, he remembers kissing his siblings’ heads before they left for school this morning, and then he remembers Haeun coming to him late Saturday night about her upcoming field-trip that she swore she heard about at the last possible moment, and then he remembers kissing Jon-

He remembers waking up Saturday morning with a killer migraine and an overwhelming amount of heat beside him, no doubt because of Jon-

He remembers sitting in Yixing’s living room in a complete daze, relaxed, thanks to Jon-

And, though he’s actively trying to prevent it, Chanyeol’s chest tightens with his inability to focus on something other than his repressed memories, because even though some of them are happy, that’s what they are: repressed. Everything in his life is repressed. His breathing quickens as his mind forces him to remember his first family vacation to the ocean, and his first award in academics in second grade for reading, and his first feelings of disappointment when he wasn’t picked to play dodgeball in gym class, and his second place award for his academics in third grade for science, and-

Chanyeol subconsciously clenches his sweaty, clammy palms and forces himself from the onslaught of memories, which will inevitably get worse if he continues falling deeper and deeper into his mind.

Sent 11:59

I just need somebody to love~~~~~~ (please ignore my awful biebs reference.) No but srsly, I’m lonely here.

Did he reveal himself too much? Does he really need someone? Has he ever needed anyone? He’s quite clearly doing just fine without his best friend speaking to him; he’s doing just fine without his parents; he’s doing just fine without anyone loving him.

He’s doing just fine.

He doesn’t need anyone.

He doesn’t want anyone.

But really, is that it? Because for however long Jongin was at his apartment on Saturday, Chanyeol didn’t feel as cold, as lonesome, as distant as he usually does. And as soon as he left, the overpowering feelings of isolation and fear of mental instability returned. As soon as he finished telling him his autobiography-

That’s it.

He told Jongin too much about himself, and that’s why he’s like this now. That’s why he’s panicking, and silently shaking, and reliving memories as if they happened twenty seconds ago.

Chanyeol doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath in fear and anxiety until he feels a sharp pain in his lungs and his eyes begin to water. He exhales quickly, wipes his eyes, and looks down at his phone while still trying to regulate his breathing.

Received 12:00

You have exactly 15 min channie. you can make it!! (and gross why would you ever listen to that or even admit to listening to it srsly what’s wrong w/ you)

Can he make it? Is he not in the middle of a panic attack right now? This attack is quite unlike the time he ran out of his literature class, or the time he and his friends were talking at the lunch table before Jongin saved him from a more intense attack, or even the time he woke up in Yixing’s living room with his repressed memories and frantically pounding head.

This attack is different because he can’t force himself out of it. Any other time he has one, he’s alone, or he forces himself to be alone, or someone manages to unknowingly save him before it’s too late.

He doesn’t have any of those options now, in the middle of a math lecture with a teacher who is droning on and a best friend who isn’t speaking to him, and even if he had the ability to raise his hand to ask if he could go to the bathroom, he doesn’t think he could form the words, and his math teacher is a stickler who won’t allow more than one or two students to leave the room in one period, so what’s the point in trying?

“Now, when we look at the tangent function….”

Chanyeol coughs and inhales quickly, which draws a bit of attention from those near him (excluding Baekhyun, of course), before he shakily sends Jongin another text after rereading what he said twice.

Sent 12:02

It’s not all that bad.

He hears someone dragging his or hers eraser forcefully across a piece of paper, creating a scratching noise that makes Chanyeol flinch.

Received 12:02

Yes it is. I’m not texting you back bc you obvs don’t need anything. See you at lunch!!

(*＾ワ＾*)

He’s right.

He doesn't need anything.

He doesn’t need someone to talk to him, to distract him from this attack, to save him from himself.

He doesn’t need anyone.

Sent 12:03

Jongin. You’ll respond back to me.

He doesn’t need Jongin. He doesn’t need Baekhyun. He doesn’t need his dad. He doesn’t need a family. He doesn’t need anyone.

Sent 12:04

Jonginnie!!

Sent 12:04

Jongin

He needs Jongin.

He needs someone to distract him, to comfort him, to make him forget, to not repress. He needs-

Chanyeol’s mind flashes to the last page of the novel they’re reading. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

Does he miss everybody? Does he miss his family? His friends?

Will he miss Jongin? Does he actually need Jongin?

He needs Jongin.

He doesn’t.

He does.

He doesn’t.

Sent 12:05

Are you ignoring me bc of the awful song choice?

Chanyeol leaves Are you ignoring me because I’m needy? unsaid.

Sent 12:05

Bc we can pretend like I never said that.

With Jongin not texting him back, Chanyeol’s thoughts wander excessively, and now he has no way to reel them back in every other minute when he sees he has a text. He once again seriously attempts to pay attention to the lecture, but his attention shifts to the side of the room with no bookshelf or wall decorations hiding the barren, white wall, and that thought alone sends him tumbling into his own memories that are vaguely connected on only one detail, such as the white candle he held when he was inducted into an honor society for his brilliant academics, or the first time he listened to Pink Floyd’s The Wall, or the time in art class where he painted his parents, himself, his siblings, and his dog in front of a white picket fence directly in front of a house-

Chanyeol shudders, mentally or physically, he doesn’t know, and tries to focus his attention into sending Jongin a text, because he’s afraid, and his chest is pounding, and his breathing is harsh, and his eyes are shaking, and he really, really doesn’t want to be alone right now.

He hears Baekhyun’s pencil tapping against his desk, creating a syncopated rhythm that pulls Chanyeol from his stupor.

Sent 12:06

Jonginnnnnnnie

Baekhyun’s tappings fall into a more steady beat, lulling Chanyeol back into his mind, just like the constant clicks of the clock did earlier. Before his eyes, he sees the first time he met Baekhyun, when they were trying to enter their homeroom class in fourth grade at the same time, and their bookbags collided, which made them fall down; he sees the time Jongdae was added to their group in sixth grade, after the other boy moved to their town; he sees the time he competed in a talent show in eighth grade and made second place; he sees the times he and his friends made pacts for their future, some of those being to never fight, to never lose contact with each other, and to never forget their wants and true desires - all written at the ripe age of fourteen.

His eyes gloss over with the flashbacks of innocence and youthful ambition from middle school, from the days where they thought that they could take the world and be the proud exceptions of every rule the previous generation had put in place to prevent them from reaching their outlandish goals of self-expression, or freedom, or whatever they called their dreams back then. Now that Chanyeol is currently sitting in an advanced pre-calc class that is preparing him for college-level calculus next year, and now that he’s on the way to being a successful high school graduate who plans to attend a top-tier university, he can’t help but to wonder where they went wrong. Where did they lose sight of their wants, or true desires, or dreams? Were their dreams really dreams, or were they a naive attempt to feel different, to feel like rebels?

If that’s the case, where does that leave him now, concerning his new friends?

What are their dreams? To become professional dancers? Is that simply an attempt to feel different, to feel like rebels?

Does the dance troupe in of itself radiate a certain aura of “different” and “rebellious”? Are they really either of those words, when Taemin studies like a hawk, and Jongin is quite obviously well read? Those traits, though they are a bit extreme in nature for the average student, belong to other scholars around campus, making them neither different nor rebellious.

Then, why does Chanyeol feel like he did in middle school, like he was capable of reaching the stars and his dreams, when he’s around the dance troupe, listening to them talk about nothing in particular, or watching them dance, or doing illicit, debatably time-wasting actions with them? Is that freedom?

Was that what he and his friends were searching for in middle school? Is that what he’s searching for now?

His teacher drops his textbook, creating a piercing boom that brings Chanyeol out of his introspective thoughts, and unlike the previous lapses into his brain, this time he doesn’t shake with anxiety, or fear, or harsh breathing.

This time, his mind has finally fallen silent, except for two simple questions.

What am I searching for? What do I want?

“Tonight for homework, I want you to graph these equations by hand; they’re due at the beginning of class tomorrow….” His teacher drones.

Baekhyun’s phone continues to vibrate; Chanyeol hears the frantic scratching of pencils against paper; another student carelessly lets something fall from his or hers desk; the water fountain pours water again; the dry-erase marker squeaks across the board. The light shines through the blinds, creating a reflection off of the metal on their desks; he sees that someone left more than five candy wrappers on the floor to the right of him.

When the bell rings at 12:15, completely shocking Chanyeol out of oblivion, he shakily leaves the classroom hoping that the flux of people in the hallway will keep his inner demons at bay, and oddly enough, his mind manages to remain silent, except for the two simple questions.

What am I searching for? What do I want?

-

The minute Chanyeol enters the cafeteria Jongin magically appears at his side, laughing and smiling, as if he didn’t abandon Chanyeol for the remaining ten minutes of class where he was afraid, and alone, and panicky; yet, just the sight of the other boy has Chanyeol’s mood lifting, so much that his usual grin returns and his introspective thoughts disappear. After waiting in line to only get a mediocre-at-best lunch, Jongin leads him to his lunch table (while also managing to avoid Chanyeol’s normal lunch table, for which he’s really grateful), and he sees Taemin and Yixing are already there, studying and eating, respectively.

“Hey guys, Channie’s sitting with us today.” Jongin says as he sits down in their booth, Chanyeol squeezing in beside him.

“We assumed that,” Yixing chuckles and looks at Taemin. “Should we make the resident lovebirds pull up chairs and sit on the outside?”

Chanyeol blushes, thinking he means him and Jongin, and before he can say anything, Jongin laughs, “At least they’ll be less gross than when they’re making out in the booth. You guys are satan when you make me sit by them.”

The gross couple in question arrives soon after that, and seeing Chanyeol with Jongin, they both grin and grab chairs from another table and sit side by side at the edge of the table. “Hey guys.” Zitao greets.

“So, guess who has lunchtime detention tomorrow?” Sehun, way too joyfully, asks.

“I’m assuming that’s you,” Jongin says as he shovels some rice into his mouth.

“Of course. My physical teacher teacher can be a . He was all like, ‘Where were you all last week?’ and I was like, ‘What are you talking about?’ And then, he gave me detention for back-talking or some bull like that.”

“At least we can serve it together,” Zitao, way too lovingly, sighs.

Though he isn’t entirely sure if they were being sarcastic or not, Chanyeol snickers and plays with the vegetables on his plate. “Is it accurate to say you guys spend half of your school time skipping or in detention for skipping?”

Everyone at the table nods; Taemin looks up from his lap to add, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“So, Chanyeol,” Yixing says through a mouthful of rice, “Why did you leave so early on Saturday? I was hoping we could jam or write a song or something before you left, but I woke up and you were gone!”

Chanyeol freezes and looks down at his food, trying to prepare himself for the conversation; Jongin, noticing his statue-esque state, runs a hand up and down his arm, attempting to soothe him.

“I- I had somewhere to be. I’m sorry. Maybe next time?” Chanyeol purposely avoids eye contact with everyone at the table, suddenly fascinated with the corny joke on the back of his milk carton.

“In your defense Chanyeol, he didn’t wake up till three, so it’s reasonable that you left early.” Taemin says distractedly, his attention really being on the book in his lap.

“That’s why you didn’t show up to dance practice? Because you couldn’t wake up?” Sehun rolls his eyes and violently stabs at his rice.

“You were there at his house; why didn’t you wake him up?” Jongin asks, fingers threading between Chanyeol’s underneath the table.

“Because I thought Taemin woke him up!”

Taemin closes his book and places his elbows on the table, laying his head in one of his hands. “I thought I woke him up too, and he told me that he would drive himself to the studio, so I thought it was alright to drive off with Sehun and Zitao in the backseat, and well, apparently he fell asleep before he even left his living room.”

“What can I say? I was tired.” Yixing mumbles, mostly to himself.

“In other news, can you guys believe I have a B in math?” Zitao proudly exclaims.

“To catch you up, Chanyeol, Zitao for the last few weeks, months, years, who knows, hasn’t made higher than a 65 on a math test, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t fully understand what the questions are asking him.” Sehun snorts and looks at his boyfriend’s narrowed eyes and firmly tightened lips.

“I’m Chinese! I speak Korean just fine, but my teacher likes to give handwritten tests, and I can’t read sloppily written hangul!” Zitao cross his arms and glares.

“That’s what he likes to tell himself, but something tells me Zitao at math,” Taemin chuckles before drinking from his water bottle.

“No, but really! I couldn’t read the instructions!”

Sehun nudges Zitao and smirks, “Do you really need instructions for a math test?”

Zitao rolls his eyes and pushes his boyfriend who is trying to kiss his cheek. “Whatever. I thought you’d be proud.” Zitao looks away from Sehun to Chanyeol and smiles. “So, I know what all of us did this weekend, but what did you do, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol freezes again, and Jongin tightens his grip in Chanyeol’s hand under the table. “I worked. Slept. Babysat. The usual.” Chanyeol dryly chuckles and shovels food in his mouth as a distraction.

“Really? You have a job? Is it babysitting?” Yixing widens his eyes and lays his head on Taemin’s shoulder.

When Chanyeol glances asquint at Jongin, he sees the other’s gaze is stunned as well. He averts his eyes to his plate and says, “No, I’ve work at the grocery mart since the summer going into my sophomore year.”

“Wow,” Zitao cooes, “who knew Chanyeol was so responsible?”

“I thought it was obvious by his GPA and his group of friends,” Sehun cackles, until he sees Chanyeol’s forlorn expression, and the rest of the table immediately becomes quiet, making Sehun whisper, “Dude, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no it’s fine,” Chanyeol sardonically laughs before smiling, and Jongin watches his sudden change of emotion with a grimace. “They’ll come around; we’ve fought before.”

Chanyeol’s words don’t subdue Sehun’s guilt because he stares at his and Zitao’s linked hands and murmurs, “I’m still sorry though.”

Chanyeol waves a hand dismissively and wears his “nothing’s wrong” grin, pretending not to notice Jongin’s concerned expression. “No, but seriously, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. I’m more worried that both you and Zitao won’t be here at lunch tomorrow.”

Zitao perks up at the mention of his name. “You and me both! Have you ever served detention before?” Once he sees Chanyeol shake his head, he groans and punches Jongin on the shoulder. “How you found someone so innocent to be your-” Zitao cuts off with a chuckle because of Jongin’s glare directed at him before he continues with a smirk, “Anyway, count yourself lucky that you’ve never served detention; lunchtime detention is the worse though because you never know what you’ll be doing.”

Chanyeol narrows his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Taemin nods his head at Zitao’s words. “It depends on the teacher, and well the student, I guess. For example, the worst punishment I’ve ever had was working in the front office while the secretaries took an extended lunch. Whereas, Sehun and Zitao-”

“We’ve had to do way worse!” Zitao interrupts. “One time they put me on janitorial work-”

“I had to serve food to my peers.” Sehun looks at his boyfriend with a blank expression. “At least you weren’t a janitor in front of your friends.”

“I remember that!” Jongin smirks. “Lunchlady Sehun is my favorite type of Sehun.”

“I honestly think the last time I had detention was sophomore year,” Yixing ponders aloud.

“Yixing, all of us except Jongin had detention together about a month ago.” Taemin pats Yixing’s head that’s still on his shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That’s right!”

“What about you, Jongin?” Chanyeol tightens their still linked hands, smirking. “What’s the worst you’ve had?”

“I’m a little angel,” the entire table excluding Chanyeol snorts; in turn Jongin glares at every one of them before laughing as well. “No, but really. One time I had to sort books in the library. Another time, I sat at a desk for thirty minutes. That’s usually how my detention goes: sitting at a desk, doing nothing.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Sehun scoffs.

For the remaining ten minutes of lunch, their conversation falls into a constant state of complaining (mostly from Sehun and Zitao) about detention, and laughing (mostly from Jongin and Yixing) about the more unfortunate detention stories, and when the bell rings, Chanyeol pulls Jongin out of the booth with a smile and leads him to the exit until Taemin squeezes in between them, and in turn, causes them to finally separate their hands.

“What class do you have next Chanyeol?” Taemin asks as he throws an arm around both Chanyeol and Jongin, pointedly ignoring Jongin’s annoyed expression.

“Uh, band.”

“Oh great, my class is near the band room; I’ll walk with you to class.”

Jongin stops walking and narrows his eyes. “No, it’s not. You have-”

Taemin pushes Chanyeol lightly when he moves his hand from Chanyeol’s shoulders to his back. “We’re in a special classroom today. Don’t be late for class Jonginnie. I’ll see you after school.”

Jongin rolls his eyes but waves at the two; then he leaves through the double doors and turns right to head to his next class.

Taemin ushers Chanyeol through the doors and turns left; then, he slows down and looks over at Chanyeol with a sharp expression.

“Is there a reason you wanted to walk with me?” Chanyeol asks, avoiding Taemin’s gaze.

“Yes, actually.” Taemin increases his speed and pushes Chanyeol along, no longer looking at the taller one. “What are you and Jongin, exactly?”

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol stares forward and watches the multitude of students passing them on the other side of the hall.

“Dude. I saw you guys making out Friday night. I saw him holding your hand under the table earlier. Are you with him or not?”

Chanyeol scratches the back of his head nervously. “Not exactly?”

Suddenly, Taemin shoves Chanyeol into an empty hallway, and Chanyeol keeps moving backwards, away from Taemin’s forceful stance and eyes, until his back hits a wall; Taemin stands in front of him with his arms crossed and his expression hardened.

“Look, I like you. You’re a cool guy,” Taemin intakes a gulp of air. “Jongin seems to like you. Don’t that up.” Taemin steps closer so that the distance between him and Chanyeol is about the same as a square floor tile. “Don’t with his emotions. Either tell him you’re into him, or tell him you’re not interested. Don’t string him along like an .”

“I-I-” Chanyeol stutters and clenches his fists in anxiety.

Taemin rubs his temples and sighs before taking a step backwards, allowing Chanyeol to take a more comfortable breath of air without Taemin in such proximity. “Jongin is one of the most selfless people I know; he’s always putting people before himself, including you. Let him be selfish for once, or set the record straight. Okay?”

Chanyeol simply nods, his mouth feeling permanently glued under Taemin’s scrutiny. Taemin smiles, and his youthful, bright presence returns when he offers a hand to Chanyeol, and Chanyeol bemusedly tries to shake it, but Taemin takes hold of his wrist and runs through the empty hallway, out a door, and down a path Chanyeol has never taken to any class before. All too soon, Chanyeol sees the band room and realizes that Taemin’s path was exceptionally quick. Taemin lets go of his wrist, squints because of the bright sun, and smiles before saying, “Remember what I said. Go to class; you have less than a minute before you’re late.”

Chanyeol widens his eyes, realizing that his and Taemin’s “talk” was much shorter than he thought it was, seeing as it took less than the five minutes between the two school bells. “What about you? Won’t you be late?”

“Maybe. If you’d go on, I may actually make it on time.” Taemin smirks, turns around, and sprints back to the path he led Chanyeol down.

The tardy bell rings soon after Chanyeol finally enters band room, and at least now he has Taemin’s words to distract him from the potential onslaught of repressed memories he experienced before lunch.