Wonwoo had never thought of himself as anything particularly special.

But he’d always had a sense for things. More specifically, he could see through anyone’s facade - he could tell when people were being fake or sincere, whether their smiles were genuine or forced. 

Over time, standing back and observing others became one of his favorite pastimes.

One day, he met Mingyu.

The first time Wonwoo walked into the practice room and sat down on the floor; no one looked at him twice, but when Mingyu took his first steps past the doorway, all heads turned. No one was at fault for wanting to stare at him, Wonwoo had thought to himself. With eyes that crinkled endearingly at the edges when he smiled, model-like proportions, and a charming personality that could light up an entire room, it was no wonder that everyone was immediately drawn to him. While others were drawn by his appearance, however, Wonwoo’s interest was captured by the fact that everything Mingyu did seemed false.

Never, in his eighteen years of life, had he met someone so broken.

When others looked at Mingyu, they saw confidence, poise. But when Wonwoo looked at him, he saw fear, and something that looked strikingly atone to sadness.
But, as he would later discover, it wasn’t sadness. 

They’d have warm exchanges in the hallways when they passed each other in between dance and vocal lessons, and occasionally talked and ate lunch together in the practice rooms. It was easy to see how others thought that Mingyu was one of the most put-together people they’d ever met. Yet Wonwoo swore that there was something off about him; overtime, Wonwoo came to doubt his own judgement.

Mingyu put his facade up so well that Wonwoo almost started to believe it.

On a bright, spring afternoon, Joshua showed up to rehearsal late, hood pulled up over his head, face partially hidden by the white fabric. After the instructor reprimanded him for his tardiness, Joshua slipped quietly into the line-up. Lunch break came and passed, and Joshua had not spoken a word. It didn’t take Wonwoo’s sense to tell that something was wrong; it was clear that something had happened. Seungcheol was the first to ask. Joshua responded that he was fine, but there was a shakiness in his voice that was foreign to the rest of them. A look of concern crossed the older’s face, but he let it go, leaving Joshua to himself with a reassuring, though firm, pat on the back.

Everyone else had missed it, but Wonwoo was observant enough to notice Joshua wince.

After practice ended, everyone headed their separate ways. Wonwoo stood at the corner of the ramp that led to the room where vocal lessons usually took place, as it had become a habit for him to wait for Mingyu’s practices to end, walking with the other boy to the company’s dorms.

Half an hour passed, and Mingyu still hadn’t come out. An hour later, Wonwoo walked up to the room and peeked hesitantly inside. It was completely dark. A noise alerted him to the presence of someone behind him. Turning around, Wonwoo bowed respectfully to the vocal instructor before inquiring him of Mingyu’s whereabouts.

He was informed that Mingyu hadn’t been to practice that day.

A bit disappointed, though not particularly bitter, Wonwoo proceeded to walk by himself back to the dorms. Outside the rehearsal building, Wonwoo glimpsed a white, hooded figure standing by the south entrance, and walked briskly over upon recognizing the silhouette as that of Joshua. Getting near, he heard sniffling, and in the waning, orange light of sunset, Wonwoo could see blots of blue and black surrounding Joshua’s left eye. 

He stopped abruptly.

Joshua, finally taking notice of Wonwoo’s presence, glanced over and tensed. Tears had left streaks down the parts of his face that were still flesh-colored, though the color seemed to have completely drained out of Joshua’s face, leaving it stark and pale. Hesitantly, Wonwoo walked forward, then put his arms around the other boy and rested his chin upon Joshua’s hair as the other boy wrenched forward from the force of own his sobs. Time, seemingly infinitely long, lapsed by, and eventually, Joshua stopped crying, though Wonwoo’s shirt had become incredibly drenched.

Letting go of the other, Wonwoo took a step back and asked Joshua what had happened. The color had returned back to his face, and Joshua’s features were once again adorned with a pleasant dash of pink.  Halfway through his first sentence, Joshua paused, and his eyes widened beyond what Wonwoo would have thought to be possible. Without another word, the boy spun around and ran, seemingly for his life, in the other direction. Wonwoo, partially confused, partially frightened, turned slowly around to see what had frightened Joshua so.

Mingyu.

In that moment, Wonwoo realized that what he saw in Mingyu’s eyes that first day wasn’t sadness.

It was anger.

Although Joshua was likely the one who had taken the brunt of his rage, standing there, scrutinized under Mingyu's cold and calculating eyes , Wonwoo's most prominent fear wasn't one of being attacked, but one of the notion that he had been right all along.