▲ TWO
Recalling the Past
SET THE SCENE: A young girl—maybe seventeen or eighteen—lies a top a blue comforter in a light blue room. There’s a bay window to the left side of her, showing off the road in front of the house, and to her is a pair of mirrored doors for a closet—not to mention the pink sprayed door leading out of the room. Millions of pictures (of friends and family) hang on every visible surface including the side tables, small TV stand, desk, and walls. Super Junior posters also hang on the walls with hearts circling Leeteuk, and Donghae’s faces. The camera zooms in on the sleeping girl, whose hair is tied into pig tails despite her hair being a bob cut. She wears a pink rabbit onesie and her face is splattered with red lipstick and blue eyeshadow. The camera continues to zoom before landing right to where it only shows her eyes: that—suddenly—snap open.
Boyoung spots popcorn ceilings when she awakes. She thinks to herself, odd. Who has popcorn ceilings nowadays? Not even her mother. When Boyoung was twenty-two, she paid for someone to fix it—that way it wouldn't bring down the value of the house if, and when, her mother decide to sell. Yet, she highly doubts she will. Boyoung will be stuck with the building when the woman passes away—whenever that may be. (If that ever actually happens, she's nearly positive her parents will live for an excessive amount of time.)
The girl reaches a hand up and touches her palm against her forehead. She rubs back and forth, waiting for some type of pain to erupt; but, nothing happens. Weird. She drank nearly three bottles of rice wine last night. She should feel a little pain. Usually a headache happens to her after she drinks too much. Maybe, on the way to whatever this place is, she drank a gallon of water. Boyoung pulls herself into a sitting position after taking in a few deep breaths. Still no pain, she thinks to herself, how strange.
Her eyes open after taking another breath, and slowly she let's them gaze around the room. Even stranger, the room feels familiar. She pulls herself up off the blue comforter to let her bare feet graze against the bamboo floors. Her eyes glance around her surrondings as her eyebrows furrow in question. From the walls styled with photos and posters while being doused in splattered paint, to the vanity table filled with pharmacy bought make-up and clothes thrown a top it. It feels like deja vu; but, she can't exactly figure out why. It feels as if she's seen this place in her dreams before, or maybe in the past. Whatever it is, it's beginning to creep her out.
Boyoung stumbles over to the cream colored desk. Her fingers graze over the top that's decorated in plastered down photos, it feels so familiar. At this moment, she sees it. A framed photo on the shelf a top her desk. She grabs it; her fingers gripping it tightly, almost to where it might break. Her face hovers over it—entirely too close. She's terrified if she moves her gaze away, it might disappear. "What the—?" Six people are in the picture. Six memorable people.
A brunette haired boy with thick rimmed glasses holds up a short haired girl on his back. She reaches over and gives a blonde girl bunny ears, and she laughs to the point that the corner of her eyes crinkle and her dimples show. The long haired blonde holds tightly onto a tall auburn haired boy, who looks as if he doesn't belong in the group. To his side stands another auburn haired boy who has his arm hooked around a young dark haired boy's shoulders. They're all smiling. Laughing. Being a bunch of dorks. All of them are happy, too happy.
The picture was taken in the midst of fall, 2006. That day was a happy day. Boyoung remembers it clearly. Mainly because, she's the girl being piggybacked. The room she's standing in, was once a room she called hers. "Is this a sick joke?" She mutters as her mind frazzles. Thoughts roll through her mind, why is she here? One specific thought comes to mind. Somebody must've set up a room to look like her childhood one at her parent's house, and then planted her in it. Yet, that's ridiculous. What's the motive behind it? Not to mention, no one knows what her childhood room looks like. She doesn't talk about her childhood for a reason. The only people to know it, would be the idiots in the picture, her mom, and her dad. Oh, and Minwoo.
The door to the room opens. Boyoung jumps at the action—making the picture frame drop out of her hand to land on the floor beside her feet. Her eyes clench shut as the person entering speaks up in a high-pitched bitter voice, "Oh god, Bo, you'll never believe it!" Boyoung's eyes open, as a hand lands on her shoulder and twists her around. Making them come face to face. Before her stands the long haired blonde girl from the picture; except, she looks the same. Only it's not 2006 anymore, the girl should look the same age as her. Twenty-five or twenty-six. Not like she's sixteen. Boyoung feels antsy as her hands clam up and her eyes glance everywhere.
"Chunja?" She stutters out, as she takes in the girls appearance. Pale skin, bright-circular hazel eyes, rosy lips, and a small button nose. She's a bit taller than Boyoung, making Boyoung feel as if she got shorter overnight. But the one thing that sticks out, is her wavy dyed blonde hair that cascades down her shoulders.
The girl looks back at her as if she's grown two heads. "Who else would it be?" She snaps—the tone of her voice bringing back memories. Thousands of days filled with the blonde barking orders at her and snapping at others.It's a memorable sound that, as a child, she used to hate. But right now, it's rather comforting. "Anyways," The girl continues as she grabs onto Boyoung's arm and brings her to sit on the edge of the bed. The blonde squeals as her feet wildly tap against the floor. Boyoung stares back at her with a lifted eyebrow. She thought Boyoung was being weird? At least she was acting her own age. "Super Junior is nominated for a Golden Disk Award for Sorry, Sorry! Can you believe it?" Boyoung blinks.
Super Junior?
They won that award in 2008, along with others. What's going on? The room, young Chunja, and Super Junior? Why is everything reminding her, and looking like, 2008? Is she going insane?
Boyoung grips tightly onto Chunja's wrist, "What year is it?"
The blonde girl glances up at her in confusion, "2008, why are you being so weird?" She rises to her feet, and Boyoung finally notices the outfit she's wearing. A pleated navy skirt, and white undershirt paired with a navy and red bow. Their high school uniform? Boyoung's mouth dries up as she runs a hand down her face. The blonde, on the other hand, places a hand on her waist as she glances down at her. "Look Bo, the boys are waiting downstairs. So, get dressed, come downstairs, and then we'll go. Okay?" Chunja snaps her fingers in front of Boyoung's face; before, she brushes her blonde hair out of her face and gets up. She sends one last odd look over her shoulder as she exits the room.
Boyoung crumbles to the floor with an oomph. 2008? It's impossible, it's 2016. Boyoung is twenty-five, she's graduated high school and college, and she's a field producer. Just yesterday, she got drunk out of her mind because of how stressed out she was. Minwoo drove her insane, her mother drove her insane, even her work drove her insane. Everything, yesterday, drove her insane. Yet this...this is insane. Is she in a coma reliving her worst nightmare? Is she dead? Or is she being tricked with some sort of awful joke? None of this makes sense!
“Bo, are you okay? Chunja was saying you were acting weird.”
Boyoung blanches. He can't be here right now! If she sees his face, she might actually break. “I’m fine!” She squeaks out from where she's collapsed. Boyoung can hear rustling behind the door, as if he's pacing in the hall. He often paced when he was thinking. Some sort of habit of his. His pacing stops, and instead the handle begins to jiggle. Boyoung pales. She doesn't want to see him. "Don't come in! I'm not decent!" She shrieks as her hands come around to grip at her legs. The handle instantly stops jiggling. And then there's a crashing sound from the other side. Most likely, he backed up, and fell to the floor.
He clears his throat, "I'm sorry, I should've asked first."
Boyoung covers her face with her hands as her knees come up to meet her chest. It's getting worse. At least it feels like it is. "It's fine." She mumbles in hope that he'll leave. Only there's no footsteps. He's waiting for her, like he always did. Boyoung thinks to herself, Pull yourself together Boyoung, it's only 2008. You just time traveled, no big deal! Just, get dressed, go wth him downstairs, and figure everything else from there. The girl wipes a hand against her sweaty forehead as she takes a deep breath. With little energy, she manages to pull herself to her feet and make her way to her closet mirror doors. Where she stops, wide eyed and mouth agape.
She's herself; but, her younger self.
Her seventeen-year-old self.
From the pig tails she always used to wear, to the pink bunny onesie she always slept in: it's her but not her. Her facial features are even younger. The wrinkles she has been trying to get rid of for ages are now gone. She's shorter, and thinner. And also looking entirely to fresh faced.
Boyoung screams
A loud, shrill, and grim like scream that resonates from the pit of her stomach. The boy behind the door reacts by tumbling inside her room. On top of that is the pounding of footsteps up the stairs to the hallway. The brunette haired boy rushes over to her, and inspects her worriedly when his hands clamp onto his shoulders. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" He stares her dead in the eye with concern wafting through his features. Boyoung can't help but stay quiet as she stares back at him in nervousness. He looks the same. Brunette hair, small chestnut eyes, overly worried attitude, and still nerdy with his thick glasses a top his nose. He's still Soonyoung. Eighteen-year-old Soonyoung. Her next door neighbor and the person she considered to be her childhood best friend. Get it together, of course he looks the same, it's 2008!
"Why are you screaming early in the morning?" A suave and proper sounding voice calls from where he enters—three others crowding behind him. His eyes spot Soonyoung and Boyoung, and when realizing that the two are fine: he relaxes and waltz up to them. "Love birds, what's wrong?" He sings as he places an arm around Soonyoung's shoulders.The nickname, she thinks to herself. She remembers it perfectly; especially, the way she disliked it. She never understood why he called them that.
With a blush spreading across his cheeks, Soonyoung turns to glare at him. "Shut-up Jun."
"Make me." The ignorant Chinese boy retorts as he sticks out his tongue.
A shorter boy maneuvers around Jun and between Soonyoung and Boyoung. He stares directly at her. From her face, to her body, and back up at her face again. He doesn't look worried. Intrigued is more like it. "It's hypertensive heart disease, right?" Boyoung glances from side to side, a little on edge about everything and especially the people in front of her.
"Jesus Chan, she's not dying!" Chunja mutters as she pulls the young boy back by his collar, and moves him behind her. She does the same to Soonyoung. Resulting in him stumbling into Jun who helps him stand up straight. Chunja takes Boyoung by the hand, and with her other she places it on her forehead. "Maybe you're sick, do you feel sick?" Boyoung slightly shrugs as she gulps down her anxiety. Chunja sigh and removes her hand from Boyoung's forehead. "You're still not dressed, you weren't even excited about Suju's news—you're acting really weird Bo." From behind them, the boys collectively groan. They always tended to get grossed out when the girls talked about their favorite idol group.
Boyoung pulls herself away from Chunja, "I just scared myself, is all. I'll be down in a minute, can you just...?" She gestures toward the door, and everyone seems to get the picture. Nodding their heads, everyone exits. Even Minghao—whom Boyoung notices just as he leaves with his eyes watching her carefully. Everyone follows after him, Soonyoung being the last to leave with a worried expression on his face. When they're all gone, Boyoung breathes. Actually breathes with her chest heaving up and down. You're probably just dreaming, it's all okay. She knows she's not dreaming; but, the thought of it makes her feel a little better.
Her hands curl against the mirror door, sliding it open to reveal her messy closet. The only clothes being hung, is her uniform that her mother often used to wash and iron. That way, it was always pristine. A navy suit jacket, white button up, plaid navy and red skirt, paired with dark Mary Janes. She often told Soonyoung how much she disliked the outfit for the mere fact that red is her least favorite color. While the boys were able to wear navy and white, she had to wear navy and red. Nevertheless, she slips into the uniform. She even rids herself of the odd amount of make-up on her face. That was a thing she did as a kid. Late at night she'd apply an odd amount of makeup to practice, only it never really looked good. And she'd always forget to wash her face afterwards.
After taking out her pigtails, and brushing her hair lightly, she steps outside of her room to the hallway. Her legs carry her down the hallway, as her eyes glance at the various pictures hanging on the walls. Pictures of her and her family. Pictures that her mother had once taken down because Boyoung hated being reminded of herself as a kid. Seeing them up again, is oddly comforting. It makes her a bit happy to see herself happy as a kid. Times did change over time. Right now, if she remembers correctly, her father will be at work and her mother is fetching coffee with the rest of the PTA mother's. Leaving her with...what are they? Are they still her friends?
Boyoung her head to the side as she arrives at the top step, "They seemed friendly." It must've not happened yet. That's all she can think as she travels down the stairs. If it did, they wouldn't be at her house right now.
When she reaches the bottom, she spots them all. Soonyoung leans against the front door with his backpack skintight to his back. Minghao sits a top the kitchen island, juggling an orange. Chan is starring at a stack of DVDs, possibly looking for a specific movie. Jun, stand before the fridge looking for something to eat. And Chunja sits on the couch with perfect posture, watching the news. The female reporter talks excitedly about the Super Junior concert that happened in Seoul just a few days ago. The same concert Chunja and her snuck into because they couldn't get tickets. At the time, Boyoung swore that they were so close that Leeteuk's sweat hit her face. And Chunja swore that Donghae winked at her. Not anyone else, just her. Boyoung never believed her (still doesn't) but always nodded and smiled like she did.
"Ah, princess! You've arrived." Jun calls as he shuts the fridge door and comes over to her.
Boyoung narrows her eyes. Princess. That was another nickname he had given her. She's never been sure whether or not it was meant to be sweet, or sarcastic. Yet it always managed to get underneath her skin. Minghao throws his orange at the tall boy, smacking him directly at the back of his head. Jun lets out a groan as he leans over his knees and clutches his head in agony.
Minghao chuckles, "Stop teasing her, and next time I won't hit your head." Jun glances toward him and glares.
"My head is my money maker, couldn't you have hit me in the gut?" He stretches up, and rubs the back of his head. "You're my best friend, that's messed up."
From across the room, Chan shoots to his feet and looks at Jun with a pout. "I thought I was your best friend."
"He said I was his best friend." Soonyoung states with a bored look, and a cross of his arms.
Jun clears his throat as he rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. "You're all my best friend?" It comes out like a confused question, leaving the others to laugh and go back to what they were doing. Boyoung remembers that. How Jun used to call everyone his true best friend; but, there was never a true structure for it. For anyone really. Except for her and Soonyoung. They were born friends. Then came Chunja, and Chan—Soonyoung distant cousin who moved to Seoul when he was six. Boyoung then met Minghao when they were ten. It was an odd friendship. Boyoung was kindhearted and shy while Minghao came off as mean and mysterious. She felt bad for him; because, while she had Soonyoung, Chunja, and Chan, he had no one. So she invited him into their group, and soon after he brought Jun—the new Chinese student. The whole best friend aspect only applies to Soonyoung and Boyoung who staunchly believe in it.
"Idiot." Minghao scoffs as he throws another orange at him.
This time Jun catches it, "I told you, not the face!"
Chunja rises to her feet with an annoyed huff, "Can you guys stop? They're talking about Suju! And I can't hear when you're loud!" The boys all drop their head and avoid eye contact as Chunja settles on the couch again. A content sigh leaves as she focuses on the television once more. "That's better." Boyoung watches as the boys all roll their eyes at her obsession. And Boyoung can only cringe; because, that used to be her too.
Her stomach growls, the chicken feet didn't last long. A hand rubs at her belly as she awkwardly shifts from one leg to the other. Minghao hops off the counter and passes her an apple from the basket that he was sat next to her. He lifts an eyebrow in question, saying you could've asked. She ducks her face away from his view and grabs at the apple. Minghao goes to turn for the counter; but, she quickly grips at his hand—stopping him. He glances between her grip, and her face: confused.
"What's the date today?" She calmly questions.
The boys eyebrows furrow, "September nineteenth, why?"
The apple falls from her hand to the ground with a bang. She trembles and slowly takes a step back. Only her foot hits the bottom stair, resulting in her falling down onto it. Minghao hesitantly shifts his vision between the fallen apple, and her. "Are you feeling okay?" He questions as he squats down beside her. Boyoung's mouth dries. September 19, 2008. "Maybe you should stay home today." He voices; but, it sounds far away from where she sits.
"We've got to go, it's nearly six!" Chunja screeches as she turns off the TV and grabs for her backpack. Everyone does the same, except for Minghao and Boyoung who stay where they are. She keeps her hands over her face while Minghao stares back at her with both confusion and concern. This can't be happening, she thinks to herself as she feels her heart pound in her chest. Minghao leaves, feeling possibly uncomfortable sitting there, and grabs for both their bags—possibly assuming she's going to come.
Soonyoung peaks his head back into the house, starring over at her on the stair in worry. "Bo, are you coming?"
"There has to be a way to get back." She mumbles as she swipes a hand down her face. What do they do in the movies? Sometimes they fix a mistake, other times they go back to see what they did wrong or right. If you take in the aspect of a drama, the usual reason you get sent back in time: romance. And it's with the last person you expect; but it's all just a bit to much for her to comprehend. But, she has to do something. Boyoung jumps to her feet, and jogs toward the door. Soonyoung lightly smiles at her as he opens the door wide open for her.
The rest of the group is a few feet ahead of them, so Boyoung and Soonyoung pick up their pace to reach them. The last person she'd fall in love with? There's only one answer to that. When the two finally reach the group, Boyoung grips at the boy's wrist—pulling him to the side. He gazes down at her with furrowed eyebrows as she stands on the tips of her toes. Her fingers grip at his chin, pushing it to the side so that it's angled for her to press a lightly kiss against his cheek. "What are you doing, Bo?" Minghao asks as their group comes to a stop and stares back at them with wide eyes.
"Transport," She mutters as she moves his head to the side again, and kisses his other cheek. "But, it's not working."
Minghao blinks as she pulls back, "What are you talking about?"
"Are you two done or...?" Jun trails off as Boyoung steadily stares at her fingers in thought. It didn't work. So then, the only way to get sent back to the present is if she fixes some mistake in the past. And such, she's forced to relieve her past once again. The same past that she's been running away from for years now.
Chunja shoots Jun a glare as she walks up to Boyoung and pulls her to the side. "It was a bet," She states firmly as Minghao fixes his grip on the backpacks he's holding. "I bet her that she couldn't possible kiss Minghao on the cheek; but she did." The blonde turns her head and stares at Boyoung; before mouthing you owe me one. Chunja nudges her in the shoulder before she lets go of Boyoung and walks off. Jun, Minghao, and Soonyoung follow after in slight confusion while Chan stays behind.
"I'm bored." He mutters as he kicks at a fallen pinecone beside his foot.
Boyoung's eye's crease together as she angels her body to face him, "Can I ask you a question?" The younger boy looks at her with glistening eyes and a bright smile. If there was one thing Chan enjoyed: it was whenever people asked him questions. A lot of people always assumed that he was nutty and not bright. When, in actuality, he was extremely intelligent. Though, he did often know the oddest things for no reason other than he was interested in knowing it. Boyoung smiles hesitantly, "If—perchance—yesterday, you were—I don't know—twenty-five; but, then today—the next day—you wake up seventeen. What do you think that means?"
The boy rakes his hand through his dark hair. His eyebrows furrow, and he gnaws on his bottom lip in though. "Well, if we're thinking logically: impossible, at least when it comes to today's advancedment." Boyoung rakes a hand through her hair in frustration. Not even he understands. "But, there's a possibility it could be fate. You know, destiny or whatever?" She looks back at him as he taps his chin and continues to bite his lip. His gaze traveling everywhere in continuous thought. "If something bad happened in the time period you came back, maybe it's your chance to fix it. You know?"
Second chance. Today is exactly one month before she loses her friendship with all of them. If fate has given her a second chance, is it possible it has to do with that? For all the years she's been running from it; she never thought she'd get the opportunity to go back and fix it. "You're a genius Chan." She mutters as the two begin to walk toward their friends up ahead. Chan looks up at her with rounded eyes filled to the brim with happiness.
"Really?" He sounds hopefully, and also desperate.
But his voice is low and she barely hears him, "What?"
"Nothing," He sighs as she hooks her arm with his. Despite being a bit upset that she didn't affirm her earlier statement, he jumps back into his regular self. He lightly taps her shoulder and his head to the side as he asks in an honest voice, "So, like, aliens am I right?"
Boyoung smiles at him, "I've missed you kid." She unhooks their arms to wrap her hands around his shoulders in a hug. Chan blinks as he hugs her back.
"Where did I go?" He questions in panic.
Another pair of arms wrap around the two, and Boyoung glances up to spot Jun smiling down at them. "We've got thirty minutes before school starts, and a twenty minute walk ahead of us: why are you just standing here?" Boyoung gapes at him as the tall boy pulls her onto his back and runs off to meet with the rest of the group. Boyoung screams at the tops of her lungs as she tries to keep a tight grip around Jun's neck—feeling like she's going to fall of at any minute. Chan runs after them laughing at Boyoung's legs flailing and girlish scream. The rest of the group stares at the three with overwhelming frustration.
Chunja smacks Jun's arm when he arrives next to her, "Put her down, you moron." He rolls his eyes as he lets Boyoung slip to the ground. She remembers the way he often picked her up with ease and flung her around on his shoulders as if she was nothing when it came to weight. He probably thought it was manly; but, to her it was scary. Chunja sends a scowl his way as she hooks her arm with Boyoung's. In retaliation, he sticks his tongue out at her. "Real mature!" She scoffs, to which he shrugs.
"Take a joke, Han!" He bites back.
She rolls his eyes and drags Boyoung to the front of the pack. "Bite me, Jun!" She yells over her shoulder. Boyoung never really understood why the two often fought. It never happened when they were young. Not until the middle of high school when Jun began to get more interest from girls, and Chunja began getting notes from boys. It was like the two got into a competition of who could get asked out the most. She always wondered if the two liked each other. Chunja was never nice to Jun's girlfriends and vice versa. Though, the people they often dated were no prizes to bring home to mom and dad.
"Do you like him?" Boyoung hesitantly asks as she side glances Chunja.
The blonde girl scoffs, "Who me? With Jun?" Appalled the girl lets go of Boyoung to cross her arms over her chest. "Don't be stupid." Chunja huffs and walks further ahead, leaving Boyoung to walk by herself. From behind, Jun pops up and slings an arm around her shoulders with a smile.
"What was that about?" Boyoung shrugs her shoulders. Jun's smile deepens, "Come on, you know you want to tell me!"
The boy pokes her cheek and she, again, shrugs. "I wondered if she liked you, and she freaked out when I asked." Jun, just like Chunja, seems appalled at the thought and lets go of her. He shakes his head as if the statement leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I know people call you psycho, Bo. But that's farfetched," He reaches a hand over and lightly knocks the side of her head with his fist. "Maybe you need to get this checked out." He winks at her and pivots backward to head over to Chan who's counting the tips of his fingers. She probably should've remembered that Jun freaks out at any proclamation that either of the girls in the group could possibly like him. Back in eighth grade, Chan once jokingly told him that he was Boyoung's first love. The boy wouldn't speak to her for weeks on end, and when they were around each other he couldn't do anything but walk away from her, avoid eye contact, and awkwardly laugh. That is, until, she finally told him it was just a joke: then things went back to normal.
Boyoung glances over her shoulder to spot Soonyoung. The brunette haired boy solely focuses on watching his feet move against the pavement. She pauses in step so that the two can walk together. Though he doesn't notice her presence until she reaches over and begins untucking his white button up from his navy suit pants. The boy blushes and bats her hands away from him, "What are you doing?" The girl pauses—her hands on the ruffled part of his white shirt near his waistband.
"I'm helping you," She replies as she pulls the rest of it out, only it's now slightly slanted and bunched together. Once again, he slaps her hands away as the blush on his pale cheek darkens. "Soonyoung, stop moving," She whines, and after a battle of moving his hands away, she manages to pull his shirt and flattent it against his chest; before, fixing the edges of his navy jacket and pulling at his tie. She glances back up at him with a satisfied expression, "That's better!"
The boy runs a hand down his face, "For the millionth time, stop doing that Bo."
Boyoung smiles at the memories that filter through her brain. Soonyoung never liked the way she was overbearing. Like a mom. Despite Soonyoung being older, Boyoung always took the initiative to take care of him, and everyone else for that matter. Which is why she never exactly understood why he didn't like it. In an attempt to right the wrong, Boyoung grips his hand and smiles at him. "Soonyoung," She calls as she places her head on his shoulder—something she always did that seemed to cool of his annoyance or anger. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." Soonyoung sighs and reaches over to pat the top of her head, some of her brunette strads run through his fingers and he ruffles her center part.
"It's fine, just don't do it again." He side hugs her, leans down to hover his face before hers, and smiles. She smiles back. She was always good at fixing his anger or frustration. And really, anything that ever bothered him, she could fix. Except for one time; but, that's not happening again.
The rest of the walk to school was simply Boyoung making small talk with Soonyoung while the rest of their friend's circle between one another talking and laughing. When they reach the school gates, they split up. Boyoung with Minghao and Chan while Soonyoung with Jun and Chunja. The group says their goodbyes; before, heading off into different directions for seperate buildings. The seniors have a separate building from the rest of the grades. And in the junior, sophomore, and freshman building: the grades are separated by floor levels. The only time that grade levels intermix, is at lunch or school events. Which means, Boyoung is always with Minghao, Chan is usually by himself, and the other three have each other.
The walk through campus brings about an eerie feeling in her stomach. The way the two fortified structures loom over a large grassy landscapes filled with shadowy oak trees and ivy that twists and grapple along the sides of buildings and walls. Old cobblestone roads are the backbone for travel across the campus and are only lit by a few different street lamps that light up when it's dark or the weather isn't good. The two main buildings are connected by one long stone bridge from the second floor. There are three other buildings on campus: the administration building (it's the oldest building on campus; but, blends in well with the brick, stone, and wood material palette of the newer buildings) along with the cafeteria (more like a cafe) and the campus library (also where private tutoring takes place). The school itself is sat a top a hill with extraordinary views of downtown Seoul. Contrasting the woody area around the school.
When the two reach their side-by-side lockers, Minghao shifts off Boyoung's backpack from his shoulder, and passes it to her. She takes it with a smile, and mutters thank you. From the front pocket of her backpack she pulls out the key to her locker and unlocks it—Minghao does the same. And inside, she's bombarded by the view of scattered pictures pasted everywhere. Giving her a ride down memory lane.
There's one with just her and Chunja giving the peace sign to the camera, with both of them a giggling mess. There's the same photo she has setting on her desk hanging at the top. One where Minghao has a face full of paint, after she had taken the white wall paint and wiped her face with it. An old photo Chunja had taken of her and Soonyoung sitting back to back on bamboo floors listening to her CD player with their heads leaning up against each other. A candid shot of Jun and Chunja passed out on a wooden coffee table, with Americano's next to them. And a group shot of everyone walking down the road in winter coats—one that she had taken of them. Another one where she's wearing Minghao's treasured leather jacket that he got for Christmas when he was ten (they were fifteen in the photo). There's a corner photo of Soonyoung sleeping with his head on her legs and his face scribbled on: giving him a mustache, and a beard. It makes her laugh. There's another one stuck in the back, of her trying to measure the difference of height between Jun and her, as Chan cackles in the corner. And one where she's standing next to Chan as he wears his graduation attire from middle school. He had wanted individual pictures with each and every one of them; before, taking a group photo. There's also drawings of her friends that she made, stuffed in every possible corner. Some were mediocre, other's were pretty nice.
Boyoung pauses to marvel at them with a lonesome smile. Over time, she had forgotten how much of her life she had spent with them. How much she had loved them, like family. Over the years she pushed herself further and further away; until all she remembered was the bad memories. She forgot the way that they cared for her as much as she cared for them; because, all she ever tried to remember was the bad things. Because that's all she felt when she thought about them: bad.
"Bo, what's wrong?" Her eyes flicker up to find Minghao starring at her in concern.
She pauses to turn and look at him, "Nothing, why?"
He reaches up and points at her cheek, "You're crying." Boyoung gasps as she reaches up and swipes at her cheek. Sure enough, she finds tears leaking down her cheeks. A chuckle leaves as she wipes them away. The mere thought of the past makes her emotional. She's finally seeing—first hand—what was taken away from her. Friendship, love, and care. "Boyoung," Minghao reaches out and tenderly touches her shoulder. She gazes at him, making him watch as she tries to compel herself to stop crying. He in a breath, "Are you sure you want to be here? Maybe you should go home." She shakes her head, and tries her best to weakly smile. She's emotional; because, all that she had loved was ripped away from her so effortlessly. She misses them, desperately. She misses all the times they had together, whether good or bad. She misses they way the care. They way they made her laugh. Cry. Scream. The way they made her happy. Sad. Angry. They were her best friend, and she had lost them.
"Who made you cry?"
Boyoung stumbles, her heart beat quickening as her hands begin to clam. dries up, and there's a bitter taste in from the sound of his voice. There is no one else that could make her feel like her blood is curdling and her skin is crawling. She forgot, much like everything else, how he would be here too. And for the whole of this month, he kept on appearing in front of her. She should've realized that that was a sign. Yet she failed to realize it. But she was innocent back then, and didn't realize that he would be the person that caused so much pain, so much suffering for her. Boyoung is no longer that innocent girl; and, that's because of what he did to her, and her life.
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