“You hate Jeon Jungkook, right?”

            In all actuality that was the biggest lie of my adolescents. I had always believed that you shouldn’t be afraid to show your feelings, but Jeon Jungkook scared me.

            He had captured my heart from the moment we met in 4^th grade. It wasn’t his looks, it was the fact that he had been the first person I had ever met who had ever been so bluntly honest with me.

            Egotistical me.

            “Hi, my name is Mikyong. What’s yours?”

            “…Jungkook.”

            Because of my anxiety and fear, I had built up a façade of arrogance and pride that I eventually lost myself in. No one had seen through it, until him.

            We were to the bus stop when I pulled out my exam.

            “I just received a 98 on my exam, Mr. Seo said he had never seen an essay more put together and neat.”

            He bobbed his head. “Cool.”

            I stopped. “That’s it?”

            He nodded.

            I scoffed and brushed past him. “Whatever.”

            This time he stopped. I must have been at least 20 feet in front of him before he spoke.

            “You did a good job, you always do. But you don’t have to do that.”

            I turned. “Do what?”

            “You… you always feel the need to show off how you do on things, as if you are afraid that if you don’t people will think less of you. You also make a point to show off when you do better than others. There’s no need for you to do that.”

            I felt my throat close and I looked to the ground.

            “Whatever you’re afraid of… Let me be the one to say there’s no need to be afraid of it.”

            Silent and brooding with a permanent scowl etched onto his face was the one who had shattered my “not so perfect world,” but ended up saving me from my delusions, bringing reality into my eyes.

            He was what I wanted to be: calm, collected, smart, and funny.

            I fell in love.

            But the green monster of jealousy had built up in my heart as everyone around us eye’s filled with admiration and love, leaving me in the dust. My own sister would compare us.

            It wasn’t his fault.

            But somewhere in my heart, I had blamed him and eradicated any chances for us to become friends.

            Then the time came when he eventually left our school for the private prep school, Busan Preparatory School without warning. It was the first day of middle school and we had all expected him to be there and he… wasn’t.

            We later found out what happened and all were a little shocked, me most of all.

            Busan Preparatory School was full of spoiled rich kids who had been catered with every little thing they need since the day they were born. They were mean and conceded, while he was kind and humble.

            It was baffling.

            But what had muddled my brain more than anything was that I never got to say I’m sorry, which was all I really wanted to say to him.

            Until high school happened.

            We had all been reunited because of a lacrosse game. But it wasn’t a happy reunion.

            He had changed; he had become one of them.

             It was the first game of the season and our school was to play against Busan Preparatory High School.

            Why was that name so familiar?

            As I walked onto the field with my friend Jackson, I turned to see someone, someone who reminded me why I knew this school.

            “Jungkook?” Jackson screamed waving him over.

            Jungkook turned and I swear I had seen the slightest look of disgust etch onto his face.

            The kid next to him with pink hair nudged him. “Yo, Kookie. You know these kids?”

            Jackson continued to smile and wave him over, but I had stayed silent. I knew what I had seen.

            Jungkook made eye contact with me and laughed. “Who would hang out with these public school kids? I mean, that would just be embarrassing. Let’s get out of here, Hyung.”

            My feelings in that situation hadn’t mattered.

            What mattered was Jackson’s face crumbling right before my eyes as Jungkook’s words sank in.

            What mattered was that he thought whether he went to public or private school mattered.

            What mattered was that the boy I had once known was gone.