a/n: THIS IS PURELY IN LUHAN'S POV

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Let me tell you all how I met my first love.

And how my heart got broken for the first time.

It was summer before I enter college. I woke up with my mom asking me to go with her to the market again that day. Since vacation started, it has been a weekly routine. Of course I said yes, not because I want to, but because I need to.

We grabbed a quick breakfast and I excused myself to get a shower. I put on my most comfortable clothes and head off to the market.

Mom and I were strolling down the market to get watermelons and some vegetables for dinner. I love markets, and being able to pick out everything I want made me happier. I guess I have gotten used to this, going to the market three times a week. But today took us quite longer. The market was crowded and mom even chatted with some of her favorite sellers.

We dropped to my grandparents’ house for lunch and hang around until late in the afternoon. It was getting darker when mom decided to leave.

On our way home, while waiting for mom to get the tickets for the train, my eyes wandered around the station. A guy caught my attention. He was tall, even though he’s sitting. He must be waiting for someone. And I’m pretty sure it must be his girlfriend, the bouquet of roses by his side told me so.

I was taken aback when he suddenly lifted his head, his eyes landing straight on mine, catching me staring at him. Our eyes met. Internally, I was screaming. I’m contemplating, thinking of what I should do, or what I should say, or if I should approach him and say, “I’m not staring at you!” but that would sound defensive. I did not get to think straight.

His stares felt like daggers piercing through my skin. There is this weird feeling inside me that I could not explain. Like my stomach was churning and I can feel like my heart is beating a hundred times faster than it usually does. I can’t even form a fake smile, nor look away. I just stood there, frozen and letting the other guy stare back at me.

“Luhan, let’s go.” Mom tapped my shoulder and handed me the ticket. She stared at my face, her forehead knotted. “Is there anything wrong?”

I shrugged. Mom wasn’t convinced, I could tell by the expression she’s making but she did not ask anymore. She tugged my hand to catch the next train so we can arrive earlier than dad. Dad hates getting home without seeing food served on the table.

My head and my heart are having a small debate as to whether should look back.

In the end, my heart won and slowly, I turned my head back to where the benches are. I have prepared a small smile for him too, just to make him feel a little better if ever he’s feeling down.

However, almost instantly, the smile I had plastered on my face dropped.

The bouquet is still there.

But the guy isn’t.

-

Two weeks after that, the atmosphere on our dining table was heavy, partly because of me. I was mad.

Mom informed me the night before about their plan on transferring me to another high school because they don’t want to waste the opportunity given to me by dad’s employer. It was okay, but not asking for my opinion before deciding is quite rude, if you ask me.

Dad’s employer owns one of the most prestigious music schools in Seoul and maybe, I assume, my dad had mentioned about me and bragged about my voice. I won’t boast, nor deny it but I really do have a good singing voice, thanks to mom’s genes. But attending a music school never crossed my mind until they brought up the scholarship dad is talking about.

What I hate about the idea is leaving my friends behind without even a word, or any explanation as to why I’m transferring to another school. You see, my parents don’t provide my wants; I do not have a phone or any kind of gadget to use to communicate with my friends.

“I don’t understand why you are neither excited nor thankful that you get to attend Clarion. Musically talented kids pay money to get in that school and here you are, given the opportunity for free but you’re giving me a negative response.” Dad dropped his chopsticks, took a piece of tissue and dabbed it on his mouth, and stood up. “Talk to your son, Hye Ji.”

Without even looking up, I can feel that he’s still boring holes on my head but I chose to ignore it and silently eat my dinner. I don’t get why they are mad too, because if I know, I won’t have any other choice but to attend Clarion. I just need some to sulk.

He left the room with a loud thud, the mom started sighing.

“Son –“she started.

“I’ll attend Clarion.” I cut her off. “I just need some time to think about how I’m gonna tell my friends.”

Silence fell upon us that only the clanking of bowls and chopsticks could be heard. I thought mom will stay quiet until the end of the meal, but surprisingly, she didn’t. And what she said lifted my mood and was rewarded with a smile.

“I’ll get you a phone. Now will you stop whining?”

-

Time flew so fast that the next thing I knew is that I’m already standing in front of Clarion Academy. I stopped just to gather enough courage to socialize with rich people and to appreciate how beautiful the school really is.

I gasped, staring at a male student with a familiar silhouette.

There, sitting on a bench by the fountain, is the exact same guy I met at the train station.

-

After seeing him in the same school, wearing the same uniform, my mind went black and my heart started beating fast like the first time I saw him.

Thankfully, Jongin tapped my shoulder, snapping me out of my reverie.

Yes, my childhood friend is studying at Clarion. He was a violin prodigy. And I may be lucky, because we got assigned in the same class. Due to his popularity, earning friends ain’t that hard.

“Seriously, what were you doing there? I mean, in front of the school doing nothing.” He handed me a sandwich. “I thought you were a statue.”

He chuckled when I hit him lightly on the arm.

“I met him again.” I said out of nowhere.

“Who?”

I stuttered. I haven’t mentioned about the guy at the train station before to Jongin. He has been busy with school, and asking him to come over just to gossip about a stranger is frankly a waste of time.

“Hey.” He tapped me twice on the shoulder. “Who is it?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Is that a joke?”

“No.”

“Is that a name?”

“Are you dumb?”

“No.”

“Then the answer is also no.” I threw him the tissue wrapper of the sandwich he gave me. “At least stop being dumb for once.”

I smirked, seeing Jongin depressed over his defeat. “I know him by the face. Not by the name.”

He groaned. “If you just said that earlier.”

“If you just let me.”

“Fine!” Jongin raised both his hands as a sign of defeat. “Anyway, what does he look like?”

It took me a while to answer because I took my time to remember everything I could and cited them to Jongin one by one.

“That must be Sehun.” Jongin said after I finished speaking. “The chin, was it kind of long?”

I nodded.

“Confirmed.”

“You know him?” I gasped. Something inside me was craving to hear more about him. It was weird.

“Everyone knows Oh Sehun. He’s one of the best students in the String Department. He was a guitar prodigy and no one has ever defeated his grades during recitals. Almost every vocal student asks him for accompaniment.”

I let out an inaudible, oh.

Jongin gave me one of his annoying smirks. “You like him?”

“What? No!” I threw him the pen I was holding.

“Okay, okay! You don’t need to sound so defensive.” He paused, massaging the area where the pen hit. “How did you know him then?”

I shook my head. Am I ready to tell Jongin?