“These are memories!”

    “Memories be damned,” I growl, and lunge for the odeng. My teeth sink into its soft skin and an involuntary mmph! of pleasure escapes my lips.

    “Yo, breathe!” Sora giggles as I simultaneously shovel a clump of ddeokbokki and two pieces of blood sausage in my mouth at once. I shoot her a look.

    “This- is- so good,” I mumble through a mouthful of fish cake. “Why’re you eating so slow?”

    “Um, excuse me for eating at the pace of a normal human being.”

    I set down my chopsticks, my chest heaving. “Okay,” I gasp. “I’m okay now. I can eat at a normal pace.”

    “Good god,” Sora says. “I would ask how you manage to eat that much and still stay skinny, but our workout in the gym was pretty indicative of how hard you exercise.”

    I scoff. “That was a light workout. You should see me on my intensive days.”

    “No, thank you,” she shudders.

    There is an atmosphere of general contentment between the two of us as we polish off our plates of food, enthusiastically ordering seconds and making cheery conversation. I am surprised at how easygoing and fun to talk to Sora is. When she was simply my roommate, I thought she was just another crazy, ditzy popular girl. Now she’s my crazy, ditzy popular girl.

    “So I’m in the bathroom on the third floor, just minding my own business, when this girl literally barges in and locks the door,” Sora tells me, popping a sweet potato fry in . “And I’m like, hello? I’m kind of pissing right now? Turns out that the cops were downstairs and she thought the bathroom would be a great place to hide. So this girl jumps into the bathtub, but then I hear a scream and it turns out there was another girl literally passed out in there the entire time.”

    “Oh my god,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “How did she end up in the bathtub?”

    “You do weird things when you’re drunk. Anyway, so then the guy whose house it is barges in, too. I’m still on the toilet this entire time. He takes one look at the three of us and his jaw literally drops and he whips out his phone because he thinks we’re making a o-,”

    “What?” I let out a low whistle. “Oh my god, Sora, what kind of debauchery have you participated in during your life?”

    “This is just the beginning- oh, sorry,” Sora says as she accidentally bumps the table and knocks a chopstick onto the ground. She reaches down to get it and somehow, in the process of doing so, jostles her cup of water, causing it to tip over and drench her shirt with liquid.

    That does it. In the next few moments, Sora and I are both clutching our stomachs, laughing hysterically. She is so overcome that she literally falls out of her chair, prompting me to laugh even harder. “What are you doing?” I guffaw as Sora rolls around, cackling.

    “S-Sorry! I just- oh, sorry!” she exclaims as she accidentally rolls into someone’s foot. She scrambles up, ready to apologize-

    When she sees who she bumped into, her grin drops.

    Kim Taehyung is looking down at her with a cold, disdainful expression. Surrounding him are Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and- a slight jolt hits me- Jimin and Namjoon. They are looking at Sora a little more kindly, with varying degrees of amusement.

    “I’m so sorry,” Sora murmurs, bowing hastily to Taehyung.

    “You looked like you were having fun,” Hoseok grins. Sora’s eyes dart to him. She gives him a half-hearted smile.

    Taehyung is still staring at Sora, his gaze icy. His eyes linger upon her figure, and then dart to me. I unflinchingly return his glare and he eventually looks back at Sora, whose cheeks are bright red.

    “Let’s go,” Taehyung finally utters, striding past Sora without acknowledging in the least. Her head is still lowered in embarrassment. Namjoon, Jimin, and the rest of the boys follow him away, sparing her brief smiles and the occasional “Take care, Sora.” Jungkook pats her shoulder.

    “See you,” he calls as he walks away.

    I rise, my narrowed eyes fixed on Taehyung’s retreating figure. “What an ,” I mutter. “What the hell was his problem?”

    Sora is quiet. My gaze flickers to her. Her line of vision is directed straight towards the boys, her expression pensieve.

    I awkwardly clear my throat and Sora starts. “Sorry,” she sheepishly says, and sits back down.

    “Joonmyeon,” I breathe, rushing over to his side the next morning. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling? What happened to you yesterday? I tried calling a bunch-,”

    He grins, and I am glad to see that his face looks bright and healthy. “Sorry. I slept for about 20 hours yesterday. I saw all your texts and stuff this morning- I gotta admit, it was kind of funny seeing you get progressively more freaked out.”

    I scowl. “Wow. .”

“Hey. We are not best friends. We’re just acquaintances.”

    The two of us are walking to the dining hall to grab some food when I spot a flash of reddish brown hair out of the corner of my eye. Hoseok is sitting at a table near the corner of the lunchroom, engaged in a heated discussion with Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jimin. I do not know if it is just me, but it seems like when they spot me walking in, all four of them fall silent. An uneasy sensation comes over me. Is this about Sora crashing into Taehyung yesterday? Do they recognize me from that?

    “Hey, Joonmyeon.” Oh Sehun comes up behind us and slings his arm around Joonmyeon’s shoulder. “Can you help me with my Critical Theories homework? I still can’t tell the difference between Lacan and Kristeva.”

    “You should ask Hyo,” Joonmyeon laughs. “I’m horrendous at Critical Theories.”

    I roll my eyes. “Says the kid who aced every single test in that class.”

    “Hey, that was because you helped me study. Otherwise I would’ve flunked out within the first few weeks.”

    “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I never want to hear another Critical Theory term again in my life. Sorry, Sehun. But I can give you my old notes.”

    Sehun frantically nods his head. “Yes, please. Thanks, Hyolin. Uh, can I charge people to look at your notes? I’ll give you a cut, of course-,”

    “Uh, tempting, but no.”

    “I think that’s a great idea,” Joonmyeon pipes in. “We could make a profit.”

    “Okay, Class President, you shouldn’t be allowing this-,”

    “Oh, come on, lighten up!”

    “No way!”

    Sehun slowly inches away as Joonmyeon and I continue our loud banter. The two of us continue arguing as we make our way to the lunchline, only ceasing our barrage of insults when he sees me picking up two granola bars.

    “Feeling extra hungry today?” Joonmyeon asks.

    “Nah. One of them’s for Sora.”

    Joonmyeon’s eyebrows pop up in surprise. “Sora? Whoa. I guess you guys really bonded over that mugging thing.”

    “Uh, you would feel indebted to someone, too, if they saved your from getting mugged.”

    His expression softens. He wraps his arms around my body from the back and mumbles into my shoulder, “I feel indebted to her, too, for protecting you.”

    “Yeah, yeah,” I say, shoving him off, my face burning.

    “Hey. Come over tonight. Let’s do our Gov homework together.”

    “I can’t,” I sigh. “I have to meet with my career advisor for my annual meeting.”

    It’s becoming easier and easier to lie to Joonmyeon.

    And judging by the way he continues to look at me with those kind eyes and that affectionate, wry smile, he doesn’t suspect a thing.

    Zelo is lounging on a loveseat at the Galmegi, tapping away on his phone as Himchan rhythmically pegs him with crumpled up paper balls from god-knows-where, when Sora and I walk in.

    “Here you go,” Sora says, plopping down a plastic bag on Himchan’s lap. He scrambles up, ripping open the bag.

    “Yes,” he breathes. “I haven’t had barbeque in so long. I can’t believe you got this just for me.”

    Sora snorts. “Actually, they were leftovers from lunch.”

    “Aw. I feel a little less special now.”

    “Good.”

    “Did you bring anything for me?” Zelo asks me, grinning.

I playfully flick his forehead. “I’m too poor to buy you anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So,” Himchan says through a mouthful of barbeque. “BTS. Here’s everything we know about them. The gang itself has several members, but there are a few central members who manage everything. They formed a year or two ago- I’m not sure on the exact date, or how they became so powerful. But they’re the biggest gang in Seoul right now.”

“The leader of BTS is named Rap Monster. From what I heard, he’s a certified genius. His IQ is over 150, which makes him a pretty great strategist. He’s the person you really have to watch out for.”

“That’s not true,” Zelo interjects. “The person you need to watch out for is V. That guy is... crazy. I’ve seen him fight before. He’s scary as .”

“V is awful. But Rap Monster’s second-in-command is pretty notorious, too. I don’t know much about him- no one’s actually seen him, and I don’t know his name- but I’ve heard some nasty rumors about things he’s done. Suga handles all the financial aspects of BTS, J-Hope does drug trafficking and a whole slew of criminal activities, and there are a few others who I don’t know the names or details of.”

“I can’t believe we have to track down V of all people,” Zelo groans. “This is going to be really hard.”

“Do you think V’s the one who gave Lia the card?” Sora asks.

“Only one way to find out.” I fish out the card- whose edges have become frayed due to my constant fidgeting with it- from my pocket. The bold black digits printed on it seem to pop out at me.

“Put it on speaker,” Zelo nervously says as I dial the number.

Three rings echo through the air as the four of us hover around the phone, watching it in tense anticipation.

And then a low voice utters, “I’ve been waiting for your call, Lia.”