He presses the doorbell gingerly, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders, his other hand gripping the hand of his little sister. When the door swings open, he’s greeted with a smiling Dahyun. “Hi --” she starts, then takes a good look at his face, and his firm hold on the girl with him, and she nods in understanding. “Come in and stay for as long as you need,” her voice lowers.

 

Hansol nods in appreciation and follows her lead. “Thanks,” he mumbles. He wonders if taking the easy way out too many times would ultimately be detrimental - that maybe if he tried, if he tried mediating between his parents, they wouldn’t fight so incessantly. But he figures that it would be better to take his sister elsewhere, away from the caustic noise. Even then, there are scars.

 

His little sister is at Dahyun’s dining table with her math homework while Hansol and Dahyun just sit in her living room. “It isn’t the 17th or the 22nd,” Dahyun says, forcing out a laugh. It doesn’t really lighten the mood, but Hansol appreciates it all the same.

 

“No, it isn’t. I wish it didn’t happen at all. I wish that whenever I came over to your place, that wouldn’t even be a reason to consider.”

 

Dahyun rests her head on his shoulder, patting his knee comfortingly. “You know, Hansol?”

 

He swallows, his heart still heavy. “What?”

 

She looks at him squarely in the eye. “You’re a really awesome big brother. And a really awesome friend. I admire you for that.”

It takes a while to process her words, his gaze searching hers. “Mmm,” he eventually murmurs. Then, a small smile. “Thanks, Dahyun. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

 

And so they sit, reading their textbooks and doing homework until it’s 11pm and it’s past his sister’s bedtime and admittedly he should get some rest too. “I’ll get going,” he says, cleaning up his belongings.

 

“You’re the best - remember that,” Dahyun winks. And before he knows it, she’s walking toward him, closer and closer - it happens so fast but her arms wrap around his torso for a split second before letting go. His heartbeat quickens, his arms and hands immobilized in the air.

 

As he and his sister make the 10-second trek back to their home, Hansol wishes that he had hugged her back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, I did some sleuthing,” Seungkwan begins.

 

“I’m not sure if this is good or bad,” Minghao mutters under his breath, to which Seungkwan shoots him a glare. Minghao pastes a smile on his face. “But continue.”

 

“As I was saying, I did some sleuthing. More like background research, but whatever. I asked my older sisters for advice.”

Hansol winces.

 

“Oh come on, this is nothing to be embarrassed about,” Seungkwan says. “You’ve gotta take pride in your love. Own it. No shame allowed.”

 

“So what did they say?” Chan presses in, currently sprawled out on Hansol’s living room floor like a starfish.

 

Seungkwan clears his throat. “They say these types of relationships are the easiest but most difficult at the same time. Here’s what I learned. Hansol,” Seungkwan looks at him now, eyes intense like lasers. “You feel stuck, right? You don’t want to lose the amazing friendship you have and ruin it with a confession.” Dramatic pause for effect. “You wish she could just open her eyes and suddenly realize your feelings so that you could avoid the awkwardness. You hope with all your heart that she feels the same way. Even then, you’re unsure how a relationship would even look like because it would be different from all you’ve ever known with her.”

 

Hansol blinks. Is he really that easy to figure out?

 

“I’m right, right?” Seungkwan pretends to shoot with a bow-and-arrow with his hands. “Bull’s eye.”

 

Hansol grunts. “And?”

 

“You see, it’s easy because you already know each other so well. But it’s difficult because for other people, all they have to do to get a girl’s attention is to be nice to her, draw close, and showcase their affection.”

 

“Okay, and?” This time it’s Minghao who chimes in, impatient.

 

“Well,” Seungkwan continues. “That’s difficult here because first of all, you two already do these kinds of grand gestures of affection for each other. Like, seriously? Couple kimbap lunchboxes? Sitting next to each other on the bus everyday without fail? Practically being best friends with each other’s parents because you go to each other’s houses so much?”

 

Hansol blushes a bit at that. “I mean… that’s just how things turned out....”

 

“Second of all, the girl is not just any girl. It’s Dahyun.” (“We knew that!” Minghao quips.) “She’s already clueless enough as it is. Any regular act of love would not work on her. Heck, not even going to prom was enough to spark anything,” Seungkwan’s voice intensifies, “You’re going to need something big. Something dramatic. Something off the charts.”

 

The way Seungkwan is saying this is giving Hansol foreboding shivers down his spine. This can’t be good.

 

“So...we just need to brainstorm off-the-chart ideas?” Chan echoes, deep in thought.

 

Seungkwan nods, while Minghao stews in his corner of the room, wracking his brain for any ideas.

 

After a few minutes, Seungkwan suggests, “...How about a confession in front of the whole school?”

 

Dead. Seungkwan is so dead, Hansol thinks to himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yet another rowdy day at the lunch tables: Seokmin and Soonyoung making everyone howl with their antics, Jihoon yelling at Mingyu for sneezing on his food (“it was an accident, I promise!”), Minghao and Junhui cackling at some Chinese show they’re watching on Jisoo’s expensive phone, and Wonwoo making up his own background music to the chaos. Sometimes Hansol just thinks there’s too much testosterone to go around.

 

“Everyone, I have an announcement to make,” Seungcheol suddenly raises his voice over the din. It takes a minute for everyone to die down (although Minghao and Junhui are still holding back giggles even after Jisoo steals his phone back). “As you know, a bunch of us are graduating soon. My parents are throwing a graduation party for me and the rest of us at our house a week from now, and you are all invited!”

 

The tables explode with applause and excitement. “Thanks, Cheol, you’re the best!”

 

“Will there be free food?”

 

“Who else is going besides us?”

 

“Ah, that’s a good question,” Seungcheol wiggles his eyebrows in mischief. “I’m inviting some of the girls too.”

 

“Nayeon?” Jeonghan shoves Seungcheol, a bit too roughly to be a mistake.

 

Seungcheol grins. “Yeah. And a bunch of her friends, too. Let’s see,” Seungcheol scrunches his forehead in thought. “Jihyo, Mina, Jungyeon, Chaeyoung, Tzuyu...who else… Dahyun…and...”

 

At that, Hansol smiles to himself. However, he’s not the only one with some kind of idea. “Psst, Hansol,” Seungkwan whispers across the table, a crafty look on his face. Hansol looks around only to see Chan and Minghao turned toward him as well. Hansol groans.

 

“Really now?” Hansol says, not even wanting to entertain the thought.

 

Seungkwan replies, “Really.”

 

“Hell no,” Hansol defiantly says, stabbing a piece of meat with his chopsticks.

 

“Not forcing you,” Seungkwan hums nonchalantly. “Just suggesting.”

 

“Whatever,” Hansol mumbles. What’s so great about seeing her at the party anyway? He could see her every single day, as it is. But, Hansol starts to recall Seungkwan’s (sisters’) advice - something about grand gestures and love declarations that are off-the-charts. Is that really true? Is Dahyun even that kind of person to respond well to these things? Hansol’s not quite sure, and he’s not quite sure if he even wants to find out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(It’s not that he hasn’t tried. He’s tried a few times before, only to be cut off at the crucial moment. Just thinking about it gives him shivers. For example, there was that one time they were at a park on a summer afternoon, eating shaved ice:

 

They were talking about Dahyun’s latest celebrity crush (they change with the seasons, apparently) and she was teasing him about which celebrity he would date if he could ever meet them, when he suddenly blurted that he wouldn’t choose any of them because he knew someone much better. The words rolled off his tongue before he could swallow them.

 

She had cocked her head to the side in surprise, eyes wide and shining in the noon sunlight. “Oh yeah? How so?”

 

He had his lips nervously - well, no going back now. “Well, first of all, I know her in real life, so she’s more special,” he gazed at her pointedly, but she was staring down at her scratched-up knees. “And not only that, this girl is beautiful inside and out.”

 

She looked up then, still intrigued. Did she have any idea what he was trying to say? Her expression was unreadable.

 

By that time, he felt like something was squeezing in his chest so hard that he might pass out soon. Maybe the summer heat was getting to him. “Dahyun, I---”

 

Suddenly, the sprinklers on the lawn went off, spraying them with water. Dahyun screamed, grabbing him and running off the lawn to the sidewalk. They stood face to face now, Dahyun sweeping her damp hair out of her face. “So what were you saying?” she ventured, after a slightly awkward pause.

 

Hansol averted his eyes, mouth dry again. He stole one glance at her, and like that, his courage had deflated. “Nothing that important,” was what he settled for. “Let’s get back home so we could get into some dry clothes.”

 

He wasn’t sure, but as he started walking and Dahyun followed in tow, he might have imagined the fact that she was disappointed, just from the way she carried herself: lips pursed in thought, gaze concentrated on the baked concrete they walked on, sandals clumsy on her feet. But he had missed his chance, his mind in a jumble and words incoherent on his tongue.

 

That was nine months ago. He laughs now, shaking his head at himself for being stuck in relatively the same position since then.

 

Maybe Seungkwan’s musings have some truth in them, he thinks.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You going to the party?” Dahyun bursts into his room while he’s listening to music.

 

“Sorry, what?” he takes off his earphones and turns toward her.

 

“Seungcheol’s graduation party,” she repeats, practically skydiving onto his bed and wrinkling his sheets. Hansol wonders if there’s even any use to making his bed in the mornings anymore. And it has long ceased to be a surprise whenever she randomly appears in his room in the first place.

 

“Well, yeah,” he says. “You? Heard you and a bunch of your friends got invited.”

 

“Yeah, duh! Of course I am!” she exclaims. “Also you’re going, and best friends gotta stick together.”

 

Hansol grins, sticking out his hand for a high five. She smacks her palm against his with the force of a truck. He winces, shaking his hand in the air. “Oops, too excited,” she comments sheepishly.

 

“By the way, what are your summer plans?” Hansol asks. He’s sitting on the floor, back leaned against his bed, while Dahyun stretches out on his bed.

 

“I probably want to find a part-time job,” she says. “Maybe babysitting or tutoring piano. My concert tickets won’t pay for themselves,” she winks. Hansol rolls his eyes. “You?”

 

Hansol pauses. “Well.”

 

“Well, what?”

 

“My family is leaving for vacation for the first month of summer. We’re visiting family, so I won’t be around.”

 

Another pause. “Why do you sound sad?” she asks.

 

He turns backwards, surprised to be greeted face-to-face with Dahyun, who had shifted positions on the bed. “I, well,” - her gaze is magnetic - “we won’t be able to see each other.” Pause. “I guess,” he falters, now turning back to stare at the stained carpet in front of him.

 

He feels her hand on his shoulder, squeezing momentarily. “We can still message each other, right? And there’s always video chatting!”

 

“Yeah,” he says, giving her a tight-lipped smile. Why does it feel like time is running out? What is this strange feeling in his stomach?

 

“Yeah,” she repeats. It echoes in his mind, reverberating throughout the rest of his room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“No one asked for all of you to show up at my house right before the party,” Hansol mutters under his breath when he opens the front door to reveal Seungkwan, flanked by Chan and Minghao. They are especially an eyesore today, but he humors them and lets them in, knowing it’d be no use. “You all are too stubborn for your own good,” he says.

 

Seungkwan brushes shoulders with Hansol as he enters. “More like, you’re too soft for your own good,” his friend quips. “Have you thought about it? I think today would be a great day to do it.”

 

“Yeah,” Chan says.

 

“Same,” Minghao concurs.

 

Hansol glares at them. “Not both of you too?”

 

They shrug apologetically. “You’re going on vacation for a whole month soon. Who knows how long she’s gonna wait?”

 

“Wait for what?”

 

“The confession!” all three of them pipe up at once.

 

“Jinx, you both owe me a soda,” Minghao whispers.

 

“You’re saying it like she knows a confession is coming,” Hansol shakes his head in disbelief.

 

Seungkwan leads them all to the living room, headquarters for their secret “committee.” “Letting you in on something here,” Seungkwan half-whispers (only for the dramatic effect). “Although I do not have telepathic powers - believe me, I wish I did - I’m pretty sure Dahyun has at least some inkling of feelings for you. She’s hoping for something.”

 

Hansol squints his eyes. “And you know this because?”

 

“The way she looks at you is so different than how she looks at, say -” Seungkwan glances around, “ - Minghao. Am I right, Chan?” Chan nods dutifully. “Plus, look how disappointed she was in herself with how prom turned out. She must really care.”

 

“About prom, you mean,” Hansol adds.

 

“No, she cares about you,” Seungkwan says pointedly. Then he shivers, as if getting the creeps about his own cheesiness.

 

“In any case,” Chan says. “We’re here to give you moral support and give you a pep talk before the party.”

 

“Um,” Hansol manages to utter, after getting over the initial shock. “Well, thanks?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The party is as raucous and crazy as one would imagine. The moment Hansol steps in through the doors, he’s welcomed by Soonyoung, Momo, and Seokmin battling it out on the playstation set in the living room, complete with obnoxious cheerleaders ft. Wonwoo, Chaeyoung, and Jihyo. Junhui and Tzuyu are helping Seungcheol’s parents bring out platters of food to the backyard patio area, where the rest of them are congregated. Seungcheol and Mingyu are manning the barbecue grill, while Nayeon flits around them doing all the assistant work.

 

“Welcome, everyone!” Seungcheol’s mother announces, once everyone has arrived and gathered outside. “We have tons of food prepared, so do us a huge favor by eating all of it up!”

 

Everyone cheers, and Hansol glances across the patio to see Dahyun nearly tripping over Mina’s feet from jumping up and down in excitement. (Probably because Seungcheol just finished grilling an entire plate of meat.)

 

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” and Hansol doesn’t even have to turn around to label the voice that has appeared next to his ear.

 

He sighs, thinking there’s no use denying it. “You already know, Seungkwan. Go hang out with Cheol’s dog or something.”

 

“Good luck,” is all he says as he leaves, not forgetting to lovingly feed Hansol a strawberry. “Love ya bro.”

 

Hansol shakes his head in amusement, going over instead to throw his arm around Jisoo, who has whipped out his guitar. “Any song requests?” Jisoo yells out, and before much time passes, the backyard is filled with a cacophony of mixed-up lyrics and harmonies. Hansol laughs at Seungkwan’s insistence to make everything into a trot version, as well as Soonyoung and Seokmin’s concurrent gag show guesting the unlikely Tzuyu, who gets surprisingly crazy when she’s high on sweets and soft drinks.

 

It gets even more funny, however, when Dahyun steps into the circle, flapping her arms like an eagle, hair tossing to and fro. Her movements are so exaggerated that it sends Hansol and everyone else into a laughing fit, clutching their stomachs in pain.

 

Seungkwan seizes this chance to turn the whole graduation party into some make-believe reality TV show (MC Boo strikes again), and he’s grasping tightly to a metal serving spoon as his microphone. “How about every person here comes one by one to show a personal talent? Or whatever you want, really. And then I will choose the winner for the best act of the afternoon!”

 

“What’s the prize?” Nayeon yells out.

 

“For you, Seungcheol,” Seungkwan winks greasily, to which Nayeon blushes five shades of red. Seungcheol laughs and hides behind the barbecue grill in embarrassment.

 

Seokmin is forced to imitate a pigeon (only because Jihyo finds it so entertaining), Junhui and Minghao deliver some killer martial arts and b-boying moves, and Momo contorts her body in ways that Hansol didn’t think was humanly possible. Finally, it’s Hansol’s turn.

 

“Um, let me think,” he says once he’s in the spotlight.

 

“Rap something for us!” Dahyun calls out. “I know I’m only seventeen, only got a few dollars -”

 

Hansol smirks. “Okay.”

 

“Join him!” Jeonghan says to Dahyun, who is pushed into the circle by Nayeon and Mina. Hansol turns toward MC Seungkwan, who now carries a sly smile.

 

“Let’s have a rap battle,” Seungkwan starts. “Hansol, Dahyun, stand and face each other.”

 

They awkwardly comply, although Hansol is relieved that Dahyun still appears relaxed.

 

“Now hold hands,” Seungkwan blurts, only to be interrupted by Hansol’s piercing glare. “What are you looking at me like that for?” Seungkwan blinks innocently. “After all, I think you have something to say to her.”

 

The undertones of his words are so exaggerated and obvious that it makes Hansol’s heart start beating faster just thinking about it. But mostly he’s thinking about how his blood is boiling at Seungkwan’s heavy-handed tactics. Someone (probably Minghao, so sneaky...ugh) chucks a haphazardly-assembled bouquet of flowers at him, and Hansol can’t help but reach out to catch it by instinct. The flowers look like they were picked straight out of Seungcheol’s mother’s garden.

 

“What do you have to say?” Dahyun questions, peering closely at him. He only now realizes how little distance is separating them as they stand across from each other.

 

His gaze flutters up to meet hers. “I - uh - well,” he clears his throat, catching a glimpse of Chan and Minghao on the side clutching to each other for dear life in anticipation. He looks back at her, starting to feel the panic bubbling up. “S-sorry about this, Seungkwan’s crazy.”

 

She blinks. “Then why are you holding flowers?”

 

“Um, well I picked them…randomly...because they...they were pretty?” Hansol stammers. (Like you, he adds in his mind.)

 

“Oh,” she nods slowly. Really, none of this would be this awkward if there weren’t twenty other pairs of eyes latched onto them. He shifts his weight back and forth, all too aware. She’s chewing her bottom lip in thought. Sometimes she drives him absolutely nuts.

 

At that moment, Dahyun steps back so they aren’t alarmingly close anymore, giving Hansol room to finally breathe. She herself takes a deep breath and smiles. “Let’s continue the rap battle, shall we?”

 

He breaks out into a grin. He thinks that it’s a talent how she can navigate these sticky situations with such grace and wit. He feels the nervousness shedding away, and soon enough, they’ve got half the group attempting freestyle raps in succession.

 

Needless to say, the rest of the party is a blast. Really, it is.

 

But for some reason, something still gnaws as the back of the mind, wondering when the next opportunity will come. Hansol steals a glance at the forsaken makeshift bouquet resting on the stone patio next to everyone’s shoes. What if…?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Bye, thank you so much for opening up your house to us,” all of them chorus once they finish cleaning up around the Choi house.

 

“It was our pleasure,” Seungcheol’s father laughs heartily.

 

Once they start leaving group by group, Hansol finds himself walking with Dahyun toward their houses, just the two of them. It is silent for most of the way, save for absent-minded chatter about nothing in particular. Empty words to fill up the empty space between them.

 

“Hey Dahyun, I have something to do later today, so let’s walk home a bit faster, alright?” Hansol lies, unable to deal with the pregnant awkwardness between them for much longer.

 

“Yeah, sure thing,” she answers, good-natured as always.

 

His feet start moving faster on their own accord, but his heart yearns to stay a bit longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The moment Hansol gets home, he stumbles upstairs like the zombie he feels like he is and crashes head first into his bed, muffling his frustration with his pillow. “What just happened,” he groans, looking at his hands in lament, in disbelief that this wasn’t a dream. But his stuffed stomach and the slight sunburn on the top of his ears indeed confirm that this is reality. Seungkwan is going to regret this, Hansol grumbles to himself. That bastard totally crossed the line this time.

 

He decides that the only way to get over the ordeal is to lose himself in his music playlist and lay down in bed, closing his eyes to block out everything else. It , then, that all he can imagine while he’s listening to music is how Seungkwan might trot-ify the song and how Dahyun might dance to the music in that crazy but endearing way of hers. He has to grit his teeth to get the image out of his head.

 

Soon, he’s drifting off into sleep, half in and half out of consciousness. He doesn’t know how long he’s asleep, but somewhere within it all, he registers the sound of the doorbell. No one else is home right now, so he carefully picks himself off his bed and trods downstairs. He looks through the door peephole, and to his surprise, he sees...Dahyun?

 

His heart is racing yet again while he opens the door, the creak of the door hinge abnormally loud. He’s greeted with the sight of a flustered Dahyun, her hair still slightly unruly from the antics of earlier today and a weird look in her eyes - a mix of emotions he can’t exactly pinpoint.

 

“What’s up?” he breathes, unsure.

 

She looks at him as if with a fresh gaze, her voice shaking just a little. “Hansol, can we go for a walk?”

 

He blinks once, twice, three times. What is this about? “Yeah, sure,” he replies, slipping on his flip flops and stepping outside. “Where to?”

 

Dahyun shrugs. “Anywhere, really. Maybe the park?”

 

He nods, and they fall into step with each other, pace slow and languid. She isn’t saying anything more, and his gaze keeps shifting everywhere else but on her.

 

“So---”

 

“I---”

 

They both pause, laughing a little. “You go first,” Hansol murmurs.

 

“I guess you were going to ask me why we’re going on a walk all of a sudden.”

 

“Something like that,” he chuckles, suddenly all too aware of her hand in the space between them, just hanging by her side.

 

“To be honest, I don’t really know either,” she starts saying. “I mean I do, but like, I don’t know....”

 

Hansol can’t stop staring at her hand, her fingers slightly separated, as if made for -

 

What happens next - even Hansol’s surprised at himself. He reaches into the space between them and grabs her free hand, entangling their fingers together. It happens in a blink of an eye, and by then, it’s too late to let go. Strangely enough, she doesn’t let go either - is what he realizes some moments later.

 

They slow down their walking pace even more to look at each other. Is it surprise that he sees laced in the glimmers of light dancing in her eyes? Is it hope that he sees traced on the outlines of her smiling lips? No way, does she also feel…?

 

But he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Dahyun is mute too as they continue walking toward the park.

 

“This was where we first met,” Dahyun says out of the blue once they reach the edge of the grass.

 

Hansol nods in confirmation, still fixated on their clasped hands.

 

Another pause.

 

“I’m glad we met that day,” Hansol finally says. “I’m glad that we’re neighbors and best friends and schoolmates.”

 

Her smile grows even larger, if that’s even possible. “Me too, Hansol.”

 

They sit at a bench, both staring at their clasped hands resting on Hansol’s knee. “About earlier today,” Hansol takes a deep breath. “It’s true, I did have something to say.” She squeezes his hand in encouragement. He looks at her squarely, trying to swallow away the knot in his throat. “It’s something that I’ve wanted to say for so long that I’ve lost track of when it really started. But I want to say, well… Dahyun, I like you.” He watches her eyes soften. “Like, a lot,” he adds, breathing a sigh of relief once he gets the words out. It’s been so, so long, he thinks to himself.

 

She scoots closer to him on the bench, and he can smell the scent of her fruity shampoo. “I like you, too, Hansol,” she says, and he feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. Is this a dream? Time stops for a second, and his mind is racing with disbelief. But the warmth on his shoulder from her head leaning into him tells him otherwise.

 

“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Dahyun says softly, her tangled hair tickling Hansol’s chin. He laughs, pretending to swat her away, but soon she settles back on his shoulder.

 

And so they rest there on the park bench, mere footsteps away from where they first met as little kids: hands still intertwined, her head on his shoulder, and the sun setting in the distance, lighting the sky on fire.

 

Hansol thinks back to Seungkwan’s advice about off-the-chart declarations and thinks smugly to himself that this was probably not on his list of possible scenarios. But, Hansol reckons, moments like these beat any kind of public declaration or grand gesture of devotion. A simple holding of hands, a simple walk on the streets of their childhood, a simple park bench at a simple playground. A simple moment just to themselves.

 

He still has no idea what he’s doing, but at least he’s got her now. And, he doesn’t intend to let her get away this time without letting her know of his true feelings. They (referring to his ragtag group of “wingmen”)  would be so proud, he thinks amusedly to himself. But mostly, he’s proud of himself for finally seizing the opportunity, even if he didn’t even see it coming. Also, he supposes that it helps that Dahyun is...well, Dahyun, the type of girl to ring a boy’s doorbell to invite him out on a neighborhood walk. And then look what happened.

 

He grins to himself.

 

“What are you smiling about?” she asks.

 

“You.”

 

He counts himself real lucky.