“You fancy my daughter,” Jisun announced, putting down the stirrer she’d been using for the stew. She put one hand on her hip and the other against the counter. Kris did not look up as he glowered at the chopping board.

Jisun’s tone was amused and curious. At least it wasn’t disapproving.

“I don’t know whether I should be flattered, or worry about your choice in women, you know,” his surrogate mother went on, sounding astonished and slightly concerned. “Are you quite sure you’re all right?”

Kris sighed, putting down the knife before he could stab himself with it.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he grunted, straightening up to eye the lady to his left. Jisun blinked at him for a while, a twitch of her lips, then she shook her head, smiling.

“I’d never thought… I mean, for a year–”

“Yes,” grunted Kris. His hand itched for the knife. He restrained himself, knowing committing suicide in someone else’s kitchen would not be polite.

“You’ve been pining over her–”

“Auntie,” hissed Kris, flushing, gripping the edge of counter until his knuckles turned white.

“I never thought…” Jisun paused, tilting her head. “Hang on, you said she had a brother.”

Kris sighed, closing his eyes. “I thought…I thought they were siblings.”

“And you never cared to ask her?”

A pause.

“Well–”

“You had lunch with them and you didn’t ask?”

“Okay, look,” Kris sighed, opening his eyes to stare at Jisun’s amused expression. “I just– I usually don’t get these things wrong. I dunno. Tao kept telling me they’re– they’re going out, all right? And, maybe I was just trying to keep a blind eye, or something.” Kris scratched his head, feeling stupid. “At the time, it was either, they’re dating or- or they’re siblings, and I let my… my whatever-it-was get in the way of my judgement–”

“Your emotions–”

“No– not Emotions.” Kris wanted to die. “Some other word. Some other less icky word.”

“Feelings?”

“No,” hissed Kris, looking insulted. “No. How about, we’ll go with my Humanity, okay?”

“Your humanity?”

Kris nodded heavily satisfied at how the word sounded. “Yes, yes that sounds loads better. My Humanity.”

He turned back to the chopping board, trying to ignore Jisun ogling at him. She let out a laugh of disbelief and went back to the stew. Kris’ lips twitched. At least he just made her laugh.

Silence fell between them, occasionally interrupted by Junhong cackling in the living room accompanied by Junhee’s complaints over his mishaps.

“Why her?” Jisun asked quietly, sounding calmer now, as if the idea of Kris crushing on her daughter for over a year finally sank in.

Kris put down the knife again, thinking his words through.

The woman went on, “Out of all the girls on this planet, I would never thought– don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying, well…Junhee is…she’s Junhee,” Jisun struggled to explain, gesturing to the living room. “I mean, look at her.”

Kris looked over his shoulder, to see Junhee sitting on the floor, reading a book, trying to ignore Junhong as he tried to put the zombie mask on her. She occasionally elbowed Junhong in the stomach or rolled away from him, nose still in the book.

“Are you sure you don’t fancy someone more sensible?” Jisun asked in a exasperated tone as she tore her eyes away from her daughter. It made Kris laugh, and he wasn’t sure whether he was laughing at Jisun’s question or Junhee’s actions. He turned away, a hint of a smile still on his face.

Jisun had been watching him. Kris cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the sappy expression. He shrugged.

“Don’t you think I’m sensible enough for the both of us?” he asked rhetorically. “She’s smart…and she’s kind. The teachers love her, and she can be all that without having to be boring. It’s amazing how she does it…Junhee’s like a kid.”

“You fancy her because she’s like a kid–”

Kris closed his eyes. “No, no, that’s not what I mean. It’s just…” he grunted, “I can’t exactly explain without sounding like a protagonist from some stupid romance novel, so I don’t think I’m going to continue this conversation,” he said, grabbing up the knife, pointing it to his surrogate mother. “Do not to talk to me while I’m holding a weapon, mother.”

They waited inside the elevator as it took them to the floor of the penthouse. Junhee absently hooked her pinky to Jongup’s who twisted around to stare questioningly at her. She smiled and said nothing. Jongup chuckled, hooking his finger back, swaying their hands back and forth gently. It was something new. It was more than new.

Were they friends? They were friends now. Jongup had never had a friend before, not really. Not the kinds he got to choose on his on terms, not the ones like Junhee. To think about it, most of the people in his life were shoved upon him by circumstances. There was Youngjae who into his life and left him with a promise. Then there were the band members who Youngjae befriended, and upon circumstance, made their way into his life because of that promise. Yongguk and Himchan never actually wanted him, he knew that.

But they learned to live with it—with him… because of Youngjae.

Sometimes, Jongup wondered what his life would be like if he’d never ran away from that orphanage. Would he still be alive? Would he have ended his life all those years ago? And some other times, he wondered whether Youngjae would ever come looking for him. His mind told him no, but something else, something deeper inside him, told him yes.

Jongup wondered what it would’ve been like if Youngjae wasn’t Youngjae. Meaning… if Youngjae hadn’t decided to take him to the ice cream parlour that day. How would his life had gone then? Would his life be gone? What if he’d never met Youngjae? Would he still be standing here today? The what ifs were so terrifying and horrific that Jongup shoved them away to the very back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about them.

A guilty part of him knew he should’ve been more grateful towards the other, but another part of him scolded him for even thinking about it. That was how the world wanted him to feel: grateful. That was how people became slaves, how they became inferior, how they gave in. Gratitude would be his downfall and Jongup would end up being pushed around by those cruel people who thought they had the right to, just because they had money. He hated the mere thought of it.

x

Youngjae was staring at his coffee mug when the front door opened. He perked up, rushing out of the kitchen to see who it was. He saw a figure come in, followed by another. He narrowed his eyes. It was Jongup. Then it was Juniel. He blinked, perplexed.

“Juniel?” Himchan’s voice rang out from behind him. He turned around to see Himchan ogling at the guest. Yongguk was making his way from the dining table to beside the keyboardist. His eyebrows quirked up too.

Juniel stood a bit behind Jongup who stared at them uncertainly.

“I brought Junhee along,” said Jongup needlessly. “Manager Yoon’s out.”

Yongguk blinked. “You were with Juniel? When you said–”

Jongup shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s the only person I know.”

Youngjae pursed his lips, as something tugged at his insides. He felt uncomfortable but said nothing. “Okay, then.” He made his way forward, smiling at the two of them, leaning one elbow on Jongup’s shoulder, eyeing Juniel. “Look. Sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Juniel scratched her nose, looking at him through her eyelashes. “It’s okay, Jongup already told me you didn’t mean it. Sorry for crying.”

Jongup snorted. Juniel gave both of them a weak smile.

Youngjae glanced between them suspiciously, but commented on nothing.

“Where’s Daehyun?” Jongup asked, making his way inside, with Juniel right behind. From the look in his eyes, Youngjae knew he wanted to ask where Zelo was.

“Daehyun stole my iPad and locked himself in his bedroom,” said Youngjae nonchalantly. “And Moody’s in his room…” he leaned in adding meaningfully. “The door isn’t locked.”

Jongup looked startled. “What?”

Youngjae winked. “He left the door open… though I don’t think you should go in there.”

“I’m not planning to.”

‘Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.’ 

The others were slow, but she could see it. All she wanted to do now was tease Youngjae about it.

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