I busy myself with just about anything I can find.

Normally, I would blow off steam via jog and just run until every breath is burning my lungs with each inhale. Run until every muscle in my body is tingling with exhaustion. Run until my head is cleared up . But I’m not comfortable leaving Wonwoo alone. What if the latter was to wake up while I was away and started to panic?

“...His anxiety must've been too much for him.”

I’d never purposely put him through an uncomfortable situation like that.

It first starts with the downstairs living room. I clean and organize the entire area from top to bottom without any room for a breather, in a trance like state. The amount of dust that has collected on the rag currently in my hand is little to none, but I continue to wipe down the fireplace mantel and any wooden surface in sight. Next on my hit list is the kitchen. My mother keeps the place spotless, much to my dismay, so I opt to do the next best thing: cook. If I can not clean the area, I’ll just have to distract myself with something else. I take out multiple ingredients and place them atop the smooth granite countertop. My brain switches on autopilot and just begins to make something…

But soon I’m thinking about it , again.

“And to believe you survived that car accident”

What did that scumbag mean by that?

My brows are furrowed in frustrated confusion as I continue to chop the rest of the crisp vegetables on the wooden board in front of me,  knife slicing with ease. With each agitated cut inching closer and closer to the end of the stalk, I feel the anger towards Wonwoo’s bullies grow larger. How come they said such hurtful things to someone who has barely even been at our school for less than a week? It just doesn't make any sense.

Wait. DK mentioned something about Wonwoo slapping-or was it hitting- Joonea? And yesterday when I was passing by the principal's office… I heard all that yelling.

So what they did to the older after school today was ‘payback’ for what he had done the day before… That’s why DK was so eager to tell us about the fight and this is why Wonwoo had gotten so nervous once DK had mentioned what had happened. It all makes sense now, I just hate that it played out this way. My stomach begins to churn and twist in different directions and I begin to feel nauseous.

I should have been there, not in detention. I should have told him to go on ahead and walk home, not agreeing on him staying. It was so ing stupid of me… but I can’t change what has already happened.

My chopping slows down drastically and comes to a shallow stop. I relax my glare that was previously stamped on my face and stare blankly ahead. Joonea’s words keep on playing like a broken record and I just can’t stand it any longer. I have to know.

●●

Looking up information that can send you confusing messages and even harmful ones, should never be attempted to seek. Looking up someone else's personal information and trying to gather as many clues as you can possibly find is even worse. Doing these types of actions can cause whoever you’re looking up, be it a friend or a classmate, to lose trust in you. But it's all part of how humans work. We figure out ways to understand certain situations, even when there are risks involved.

I know this, yet here I am.

To be honest, I’m nervous as I sit down in Minseo’s computer chair and I also mentally note how her rolling seat doesn’t have an annoying squeak like mine does. I opt to use her desktop over mine simply because I do not want the sleeping senior  to wake from me typing away on my keyboard. Luckily I know her login password so this shouldn't take too long. I nervously nibble on my lower lip while simultaneously clicking open a new tab.

The rolling clouds from out the nearby window are casting intricate patterns across the computer screen and a chill runs down my clothed arms as I remember how cold the weather seemed to be today. I then shortly realize the hesitation that is beginning to rumble around in my gut causing my throat to dry up in a nervous Sahara.

What would I even begin to search, or more like, where? Facebook?

I log into my barely used social media account, strategically ignoring the red notification bubble, and looking up Wonwoo’s name.

Nothing.

“Not really surprising.” I murmur out, before logging off. “There’s got to be something.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, I drag my hand slowly down my face. Think. Think. Think.

“His phone number!” I quickly sit back up into my seat. When Joshua comes over he always makes me watch this foreign show called Catfish . In the series they use something called reverse number tracking. The tracking lets you know where the number came from and the name of the person who pays for the phone bill. This may just be me reaching out a bit too far, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

I push myself away from the desk and reluctantly make my way back into my room. The door opens quietly and I look over towards the bed. Light casting from the hallway let’s me see that Wonwoo is laying just as still and peaceful as before, his chest rising and falling slowly. His head has turned a bit to the side, causing dark bangs to fall back down, brushing his eyes slightly, but other than that the older hasn’t moved an inch. I slowly pad over to my dresser and grab my phone along with two pairs of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jumper- keeping in mind how reclusive the older is of his scars. I then stalk back over to the foot of the bed and place down the pair of comfortable clothes for Wonwoo to change into, just incase he wakes up and decides to switch out of the uniform.

As I’m walking back out of the room and shutting the door lightly, I notice the underline meaning of placing the clothing out. I basically just invited him to stay over and I did it without even using a single word. The older boy is smart enough to know this. A sudden heat spreads across the back of my neck and I let out a weak groan as I step into the bathroom to change my clothes. “Stop overthinking this.”

Once I’m sat back down in Minseo’s room I begin to feel even more nervous than before.

I want to keep the trust factor of Wonwoo’s and I’s friendship, but I’m kinda breaking it by doing this. The older will hopefully let me know of his past sometime in the future, I’m sure of it, but right now I just need to know.

Tracking the number down takes a matter of seconds and the results come up with a man by the name of Jeon Sungho, age 41. He’s around the same age as my father, so I assume this man is Wonwoo’s dad. I continue down the page and notice the number was registered in Daejeon. That must have been where they moved from. Huh, I used to live there too, but moved when I was quite young so I have little to no memories of the place . Interesting. I skeptically open another tab, previous thought long forgotten, and log back into facebook. This time I type in the name of Wonwoo’s father, just to see if anything pops up.

Bingo.

I click on the profile that matches all the information. The page doesn’t look like the older man is very active, a few posts about local produce stores, some promotional posts for his own business, but what catches my attention is an aged family photograph as the mans profile picture. I become curious and immediately click the image. I see a man and a woman standing on either side of a younger looking Wonwoo, maybe around eight or ten years old in the photo. A smile slowly appears on my face at the latter's own bright smile. My eyes rake over the entire scene of the three of them standing happily on a deserted beach. I quickly note the sunset happening in the background and tell myself to remember to ask if the older would one day maybe want to go to a nearby beach.

I look back at his parents and notice an older looking man with the same facial structure as the senior and then I take a look at the last person, the woman. Her smile and eyes are basically copied and pasted onto Wonwoo’s, while also sharing the same nose. “Strange, he didn’t have his mom’s number in his phone.” I whisper out to no one in particular. I’m about to close out of the picture and continue on my search for information when a comment from the side catches my attention.

“May you rest in peace Mikyung, a wife and mother with a lovable personality. You will be missed greatly.” Posted 4 years ago.

“What?”

I continue to read comment after comment, tired eyes moving rapidly back and forth. My face that was once filled with pure curiosity and lightness about the olders past is now a sorrowful one. “No.” I barely rasp out. My breathing becomes shallow as I click open another tab. I type in the names and location, in seconds a link for an online news article appears and with a bit of hesitation, I click on it.

On XX/XX/XXXX a tragic car accident took place in the bustling city of Daejeon. The accident involved two vehicles, in the first: a mother (Jeon Mikyung) and her son, (Jeon Wonwoo), and the second: a young man (Lee Gyunghuk). The vehicle containing the mother and son had swerved into the oncoming traffic, for unknown reasons, causing the smaller vehicle to collide with the truck driver. The smaller vehicle was sent tumbling into the nearby woods off the side of the freeway. Unfortunately Jeon Mikyung had bled out before the paramedics could arrive, her death was announced on scene. Jeon Wonwoo had suffered from severe muscle contusion, a minor concussion, and a fractured leg. Lee Gyunghuk walked out from the accident with minor scrapes and a head concussion. Jeon Mikyung was not under the influence of intoxication, any type of medication, or narcotics…

The article continues on, but I do not bother with reading anymore. Instead I sit frozen as a numbing sensation takes control over my entire body from head to toe. I don't even notice the tears rolling down my cheeks until a few droplets drip onto my quivering hands. The room becomes a little darker than before after I in a deep breath- which only ends up in a hitching mess of tears being held back and a loss of breath. My trembling hands find their way to my face- placed haphazardly on either side of my temples as I lean my elbows on the wooden desk and I just silently let the tears roll down.

I feel so immensely lost. Caught up in the time stopping moment of Wonwoo’s past- his family's past. This is not just about him anymore, it’s also about the older man in the photos: his father . It’s about the other number on his lost cell phone: his grandmother . It’s about the loss of a another person .

To have your mother taken away just like that and without warning is crushing to anyone. Hell. Just to be gone at all is horrible in itself. I honestly cannot even begin to understand how Wonwoo has felt all this time, I’m not sure I ever will. This happened years ago and the older has probably moved on, but then I think about all the disgusting words the bullies have said and just as the thought appears, so does a fresh batch of tears, falling faster this time around. The entire house is silent and the only sound you can hear is the patterning of sleet that’s beginning to fall outside.

Ah, that must be why the room has gotten darker. Freaking great.

After a few minutes have passed and my tears have become almost nonexistent, I drag my now damp hands roughly into my lap and sit back heavily in the office chair. “…”

Clearing my sinuses up and wiping my face off, I click out of the tabs and clear the history of any sign that I was here and slowly stand up. Shivers are running down my bare arms the second I begin to move, but I can’t really care in this moment.

I tell myself- and I mean it- that if I want to know anything about Wonwoo or vise versa, it’ll be done face to face. Not from online, by friends, or acquaintances. Just him and I.

●●

My head is wandering to unreachable topics of Wonwoo’s past. I shouldn't have searched for it. I shouldn't have even thought about it. What the hell was I thinking? That ‘oh maybe if I read up on a few articles, then maybe I’d feel closer to him because I know something?’ Without much more room for debate I continue on with the cooking while cursing myself everytime a thought of my previous actions conjures up.

An hour has passed since the last time I checked the clock on the wall. I mentally note that I should probably go and check on Wonwoo sometime soon, maybe he should get up to eat something-

My thoughts are cut short when I notice a figure move from around the kitchen entrance and I about drop the lid I was holding onto the tiled floor, from the startle. My eyes return to a normal size once I realize it’s just Wonwoo. I quickly notice that the senior is free of limping or any noticeable discomfort and I inwardly let out a sigh of relief.

I’m so glad that he’s looking and acting just fine.

“Oh, hey.” I announce carefully-even though I’m anything but-, watching the older weakly rub his eyes a little with a curled up fist, while my heart does a weird flip inside my chest. The older then yawns before walking closer towards to where I’m standing frozen in front of the island, which by the way, is covered in dirtied bowls, utensils, and scattered peelings. Wonwoo makes a small noise of acknowledgement and continues to look around as I stand awkwardly with a lid thats dripping with condensation still in my hands. I have to remind myself to not change the way I see the older, to not treat Wonwoo any differently just because I know a snippet of his past. ”How are you feeling? Do you need something to drink or maybe some medicine?”

“My head hurts a little, but that happens when my panic attacks are bad. Other than that I’m fine, just tired That’s all.” I nod my head in understanding since Jeongha