A/N: Wow it's been a long time. Got busy with college applications and such, but guess what? I got my tuition waived to two universities, so I have some decisions to make. Also, when Cho and Jongdae are speaking to each other or to Cho's friends (introduced here), they're typically speaking in English. Just putting that out here for clarification. Enjoy!

Chapter 6

“So basically Minseok is an and Jongdae is a softie,” Mimi sums up and Cho shakes her head, spoonful of mint ice cream still in . “Minseok is an and Jongdae is nice,” Mimi revises and Cho continues to disapprove of Mimi’s recapitulation of everything that’s happened. “Minseok is a Class A and Jongdae is just there,” Mimi tries for the last time and throws up her arms in exasperation when Cho doesn’t cease her head shaking.

She removes the spoon from and gently stabs the ice cream for another spoonful of minty goodness while revising Mimi’s statements, “Minseok isn’t an , that’s for sure. I mean, I don’t blame him entirely because I haven’t talked to him for almost a month but remember when Charles and I stopped talking for like, two months? I still remembered his birthday and even sent him a pizza as a gift. But to this day, I still don’t think he knows who sent it to him…”

“Cho honey, have you realized you have a tendency of trying to make things look better than they actually are? I mean, Minseok was your best guy friend, and he forgot your birthday which is a big no-no,” Alysa, the second of her trio of best friends, states before digging her own spoon into her Bluebell pint of chocolate ice cream.

“Oh god, I miss Bluebell’s,” Cho pouts in a childlike manner and gazes at her best friends--practically sisters--who laugh and coo at her through her laptop screen. “That’s what you get for moving all the way to freaking Korea!” Arianna, the third and last of the trio, diabolically screams at Cho through her computer and lets out a high-pitched scream-slash-laugh when Cho throws a spare shirt on her bed at the cam.

“But honestly, I’m getting a little homesick,” Cho confesses. Don’t get her wrong, she loves Korea. But it’s not...Texas. And she also misses authentic Chinese food from Chinatown in Houston. Not some...really poor attempt at chow mein with a case of too much soy sauce and some ungodly spice herb thing. And warm weather for almost October.

“Well--”

A series of three quick raps against her apartment door interrupt Arianna from continuing her statement as Cho tells her to wait and slides across the wood flooring outside of her bedroom to get to the door. She tiptoes to squint through the peek-hole and just about rips the door open to reveal--

“Jongdae?”

Kim Jongdae, the boy she just added on Snapchat not too long ago, is now standing in front of her with a couple of yellow roses and small cake from a more expensive bakery, judging by the name on the box she sees. It’s hard to wipe the surprise on her face as she silently gapes at him.

And suddenly she feels extremely conscious of her home attire, decked out in dark navy Hollister pajama pants and an extremely soft, dark navy long sleeve from H&M that was on sale for 5 dollars, because right now, she probably looks like she’s about to hit the bed.

“Can I come in?” Jongdae smiles and she quickly shuffles to the side to make way for him. “Wow,” she finally speaks and locks the door behind her. “What are you doing here? I mean, not saying that you’re allowed, I just didn’t expect you to show up with anything or more like show up at all and you’re in a t-shirt this is--”

“You’re rambling,” he chuckles and holds the roses and cake in front of her. “Happy birthday, Cho.”

“How did you even know?” She asks, completely in awe and taken back by the simple yet genuine gifts. “Facebook,” he replies in somewhat of a duh-that-was-obvious tone, smile still plastered on his face. “That’s right, we’re friends on Facebook,” she mumbles, realizing that if Jongdae saw it was her birthday on there, then Minseok would have, too, unless he just didn’t go on Facebook today…

“Oh, that’s right, thank you for all this,” she snaps out of her inner toil and ignores the uncomfortable feeling of her stomach clenching and twisting. “I didn’t expect anything, so really, thank you.”

“Are you okay? You seem a little...down or distracted.”

“I--” She stops and closes before opening it and then closing it again. “Come with me,” she decides and slides back to her room, catching onto the noise of Jongdae’s light jog after her.

On her laptop screen, her friends are chatting amongst themselves and Cho pulls out an extra fold-out chair from her closet for Jongdae to sit on. She motions towards it wildly before ducking back out and returning to Jongdae’s confused figure with an extra spoon from the kitchen. “Please sit,” she asks and Jongdae does so, noticing the silence among her friends across the world.

“Kim Jongdae?” Mimi tentatively asks and Jongdae lets out a nervous smile before directing his gaze back to Cho who’s spooning another scoop of mint ice cream before handing it to him, nudging her head in the direction of the spoon in his hand. “Yes guys, this is Kim Jongdae. Mimi, you probably remember him.”

“Yeah, definitely, though it’s been what, four or five years? Nice to see you again, Jongie-poo,” Mimi teases and lets out a barking laugh when Jongdae groans and stuffs a spoon of the ice cream before grumbling over the melting substance that sounded a lot like “Why does everyone remember my awful nicknames”. Cho chuckles along and nudges her shoulder against his in an effort to make him feel better and he bites his bottom lip to prevent the grin from stretching over his face again.

“He got me cake and yellow roses, that’s why he’s here right now.”

“Mimi, right? And you two were in varsity choir, no?” Jongdae asks the trio and Cho watches the faces of her non-blood-related sisters morph into utter, utter surprise. Pleasant surprise, but surprise nonetheless. “Holy , how did he remember that?” Alysa murmurs and takes another bite of her ice cream.

“Is that Bluebell?” Jongdae nearly screams and gargles noises before bending over and putting his head in between his knees. Or at least attempt to because in the process of doing so, he smacks his head on the curved edge of her desk where the laptop is set on. “,” he curses while rubbing his head and Cho automatically searches for her first aid kit. It’s hidden in the bottom of one of her desk drawers and she places the box next to her laptop on the desk before jerking Jongdae’s chair to face her.

“Let me see?” She gently murmurs and Jongdae continues to wince when lifting up his face. There’s a bit of a bruise already forming, along with some swelling, and her doctor skills start to kick in again. “I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion so either I drive you home or you stay here for the night with a bucket next to you in case you feel nauseous. This is going to sting a little,” Cho adds before getting some ointment on a cotton swab and lightly dabbing it onto his bruise. Jongdae hisses and clenches his fists on top of his knees.

“Okay, I’m done,” she announces and tosses the cotton swab into the trashcan next to her desk before closing and putting the first aid kit back into her drawer. “Let me go get some ice.”

Jongdae watches her glide out of the room and hears the cracking of ice before she returns with ice in a plastic bag wrapped in a paper towel. She would have made a really good doctor, he thinks as he continues to gaze at her before coming to the conclusion that right now, even in her most casual clothes, she looks elegant and somewhat pristine. The dark colors of her pants and long sleeve blend nicely with her skin. The sleeves reach about past the palms of her hands, making her also look cute in a sense and also comfortable with a dash of hominess.

“Is something wrong?” Cho asks after a couple of minutes of Jongdae staring at her. There’s nothing piercing about it, but she’s starting to feel as if he’s looking into her soul. From their first encounter, she knew that Jongdae was uncannily good at reading her and her emotions, even though she was the one with the extra psychology knowledge.

“Ah, nothing, I’m sorry,” Jongdae apologizes and reaches out for the pack of ice. He hisses and winces immediately once the cold surface touches the location of his bruise. “Nauseous yet?” Cho asks and Jongdae carefully shakes his head. “Then you might be okay,” she hums as her fingers brush his bangs back to allow more space for the crude ice pack to cover. Jongdae’s eyes instinctively flutter close at the gentle motion, unnoticed by Cho.

Sounds of snickering and the signature hang-up tune on Skype consecutively happen and Cho snaps her head to her laptop, only to see incoming messages of “we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone lmao go get laid will you” and “hE WANTS TO FRICKLE F R A C K L E” and “he lauves you he lauves you he lauves lauves lauves lauves you” (aimed to imitate La Carlotta off of Phantom of the Opera) and she quickly replies with an “i h8 u” before shutting her laptop closed.

“I’m gonna go grab the cake before it melts. There’s no way I’m letting you leave without a piece,” Cho announces before disappearing into her kitchen where Jongdae had put it before following her to her room. She grabs a box of matches along with the cake before shuffling back to where Jongdae is still nursing the bruise on his forehead.

“When was your birthday?” Cho inquires, already thinking about what she should do for him in return. “Five days ago,” he answers and Cho chokes on air. Luckily, there are two candles for the cake, the long skinny kind, and she lights them up before turning off the lights. “Happy birthday to you,” she starts to sing and Jongdae sings along with her, both pointing at each other when landing on “you”. There are laughs and a random “cha cha cha!” at points in the four line song, and it is time to make a wish. They agree to both take a candle each to blow out and make wishes to.

Too lazy to grab plates, Cho and Jongdae eat straight from the cake, which is probably unsanitary as hell, but American tendencies are starting to kick back in as they both moan over the forks of cake in their mouths. “This is amazing,” Cho murmurs in awe and Jongdae hums in agreement. “I love it when bakeries actually live up to their price.”

“Remember the Chinese bakery at 99 Ranch Market off the highway?” Jongdae brings up and Cho nods vigorously. “That coconut bread thing was the most reasonably priced and good. I never bought any of their cakes though. Looked pretty plastic to me.”

“You have to admit their fresh egg tarts were good.”

“Oh god, I forgot about those.”

-

An hour later with half the cake finished and the talking still going, Cho puts the remaining half into the refrigerator while Jongdae quietly follows her around. “I didn’t know your birthday was five days ago,” Cho says, guilt laced in her tone and Jongdae smiles while shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. You must’ve been busy.”

“I really was,” she slightly whined. “I got assigned a new project at work and had a Skype interview with the new...trainee, I guess we could call him. I spent about two days trying to come up with new songs that would fit his image.”

“What does he look like?”

“Well…” Cho bites her bottom lip in worry and glances at him before continuing. “You can’t tell anyone, but apparently he’s of some sort of high class and wants to debut underground-ish. Underground as in he won’t show his face or anything, but still wants to be a singer. So whenever I Skyped with him last week, I couldn’t see his face.”

Jongdae pauses before speaking up. “Do you think you’ll ever get to know how he looks?”

“We made a deal,” she chuckles at the memory. “He said if he got a Triple Crown, then I’d see his face since I’d be a contribution to his success and it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to know how he looks. It gives me motivation to do the best I can, but I’m also scared because I’m new and I just started and I might just be this big blob of disappointment,” she pouts afterwards.

“I think you’ll do great,” Jongdae genuinely beams and Cho can’t help but beam back in gratitude for the uplift.

“Come on, let’s set up the air mattress. Or do you prefer a sleeping bag?” Cho inquires.

“I love air mattresses.”

-

After blowing up her air mattress and setting it in the living room with a sleeping bag over it, Cho returns with a large armful of blankets that Jongdae hurriedly takes from her in fear that she might fall over. “I don’t want you getting sick on me,” Cho sheepishly grins and Jongdae laughs in appreciation. “You’ve already seen the bathroom, so you can shower there. Just let me grab some clothes that might hopefully fit you.”

She leaves Jongdae to set up his blankets as he pleases to go on a scavenger hunt for some clothes. Luckily, she invested in quite a few extra-large t-shirts of various subject matters, ranging from school ones to restaurant t-shirts because of the ridiculous rule concerning leggings and shirt length back in high school. But as she’s searching through her cabinet, she comes across an all too familiar navy shirt that had been smooshed between two other shirts in a wrinkled mess and sets down Jongdae’s spare clothes on the floor.

Time seems to slow down as she languidly wrestles the vintage-soft material from between the other tops, letting it drop dramatically. It’s nothing fancy, just plain navy with a logo on the right that says “The JASON Project” in white letters. It’s large, much too large like many other t-shirts in her wardrobe, but this--this is too much pain.

Memories crash through her with the force of strong beach waves as she loses focus in her eyes and blindly stares at the shirt clutched in her hands. Too many smiles and glares thrown around, too many laughs and lingering touches ghosting her skin, too much of everything that she hoped to throw away and just too much of--

“--o? Cho? Earth to Cho?”

She snaps out of her reverie and turns to see Jongdae leaning against her doorframe with a worried expression on his face. “Whose shirt is that?” Jongdae asks, having gone to see if Cho needed any help finding anything and maybe even telling her to not worry about it. He can go shirtless if need be.

Cho opens and closes it again before quietly replying.

“It’s Charles’.”

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