A lazy Thursday afternoon-- the Drama Club Room (an isolated classroom at the highest floor of the Arts Block, with a few makeshift costumes pushed to the corner of the room) was buzzing with noise. The Chairman was tapping his pointer (taktaktak!) on the blackboard (yes, we use blackboards), rattling on about how Teacher's Day was coming up, and how this was a good time to let the Drama Club shine, again.

  And then, the said person-in-charge of shining, Mr Park Bogum, appeared as he slid in from the front door.

  "I'm so sorry I'm late!" he smiled sheepishly, bowing curtly before striding over to his usual seat, the one in the centre of the room.

  "Bogum, my man!" an actor high fived him as he took a seat, followed by several others. I don't even try to smile at him, from my comfy corner of makeshift costumes. I grimace, who says 'my man' nowadays? 

  And yet there was just this thing which those actors had that made it work for them. It sounded natural, as much as I hated to admit it. 

  Oh well, they were the outspoken extroverts anyway. It's how they got close to the popular kid, aka. Mr Park Bogum, and how they got their roles anyway. I sigh, as I glance at the scrawl I've been writing for the past two hours ever since club activity officially started.

  "Yah, Lee Jae Eun!" a piece of chalk fell unceremoniously on the desk beside me, almost intruding into my costumes--desks-fort. My head jerked up to give the Chairman a wide-eyed stare, as I adjusted my glasses.

  "What?" I blinked, looking around.

  "Is the script done?" He said, breaking into a smile and shaking his head. I heard my fellow writer-friends chuckling behind me.

  "Oh!" I break into a grin. "Yes, yes it is! Sorry, I was spacing out..." 

  Other friends break into soft grins.

  The Chairman sighs in relief, and gestures a break time, as he walks over to check out the script.

  I hand it over to him in smiles, and excuse myself to the toilet. Humming, I look at how packed the classroom is compared to four years ago, when I just joined it as a Year One. It consisted of only ten people, and yet even then the outspoken and influential people were already dominating the club, as usual. I remember mustering all my effort to read out the script for the audition. I decided that since this was high school, I was going to take risks, to step out of my comfort zone and live exciting years as a youth which I could look back on with warm fuzzy feelings!

  Yet, of course, I didn't get to be the club's actress. Our two outspoken and popular friends were obviously more charismatic, and had the greater potential to pool in attention from their friends (since they had many friends). But it was fine by me. I understood their rationale very well by then. Writing scripts was comfortable, and there was also a certain thrill of being able to actually correct the emotions our leads were portraying, because, after all, I am the writer.

  Our club performed well, in my opinion. But it was hard to escape from the stigma that high school clubs had-- they were small clubs for nerds, and never really gave any real credit to the school.

  That was what we had to put up with, until Mr Bogum came the following semester, as a transfer student. It was as clear as day that he was a popular kid the moment he stepped into our school. And no, I don't mean all the fainting and following girls (although that could make a funny scene for a play. our play maybe?). I mean the thousands of followers he had on social media, and his great sense of style (or whatever everyone means by that.) Oh, and unlike the two outspoken and popular friends, Bogum actually had a large group of friends before joining Hwarang. Apparently they were his middle school friends, and apparently he was already popular in middle school as well.

  When he joined our mini club, people started paying more interest in our plays. The classroom we booked for our performances was no longer enough to contain the crowd of 40; we had to book the school's hall instead. Man, popularity really helps. And acting talents I guess. Bogum was a good actor.

  I finally washed my hands, and exited the toilet while flicking the water off. Back to the grind, I sighed, pushing the classroom door open by leaning on it, and finally resorting to use my head to give it a final push. 

  "Ow," I muttered. It didn't work.

  And suddenly it did. The door opened slowly, as how I wanted it to.

  "Ah, thank you-" I said half to the door, and half to the person behind me as I glanced behind.

  Mr Park Bogum stood, his hand way above my head. He looked down at me, and a smile stretched across his white face, revealing his pearly whites, and his smile crinkles; as if I had done the funniest thing he had ever seen. 

  "No problem, Jae Eun-ah," he said. 

  I smiled back at him, before turning around and making a beeline for my costumes-fort, where Mr Chairman was still sitting at, scrutinizing my script.

  I sat down on the pile of knight velvet costumes for last year's performance.

  Man, people weren't kidding when they said that Park Bogum was good-looking.

  I sighed, compressing a smile.

  OHMYGOSH did he just talk to me?!

---

  For the rest of the day as a typical Thursday afternoon ran its wheels, I was Bogum-stricken. Seriously, this guy is the perfect man on Earth! 

  As Chairman allocated roles for the next play, I would find out that Bogum was the most polite man alive, listening, nodding and offering smiles to the Chairman as he spoke.

  As we headed off for our usual Club Supper, I would find out that Bogum was the most initiative man ever, taking the initiative to lead a group of noisy baboons to a decent eating place, and helping everyone to order food.

  Occasionally, long-drawn out "Thank you~!"'s were cried. But no one really offered any suggestion; Bogum made all the decisions.

  As the food came and people started eating, I would find out that Bogum was the most considerate man I could have ever possibly meet; he handed out plates to everyone, swiftly cleaning them with a wet wipe as he did so. Some friends urgently urged him to stop, but he continued anyway, resulting in their sheepish, "Really? Thank you~!"

  If not for the food I was chewing (bulgogi by the way, mmmm), my jaw would have dropped open. Where on Earth has this guy been?

  And his smiles... That innocent grin that could light up the world.

  Good-looking, and kind to a fault. Have I been blind all this while?

  I almost regretted not making friends with the popular clan.

  I felt a bump on my right shoulder, and I looked up.

  "Our Jae Eun~" Bogum cooed, as he deftly transferred pieces of beef from the serving bowl into a smaller one. "What are you thinking so hard about?"

  "Ah... hahaha." I laughed, trying not to stare at his face as he continued picking beef with his amazing chopstick skills. "I was just wondering how meat could be this delicious."

  "Aigoo, our Jae Eun really loves her food!" a senior cooed on my left, and I felt my head being petted. I scrunched up my eyes happily, munching on the beef.

  "Alright, then one more piece of beef for Jae Eun!" I heard Bogum say, and when I opened my eyes he had gone back to the other side of his table, and an extra piece of beef was lying on my bowl  of rice. I felt heat creeping up my face. I peeked at him past a couple of students, watching as he cheerfully handed out pieces of beef to the students on the other side.

  On the other side.

---

  As the night grew darker, the mood grew livelier. I could never understand how our club members had so much energy. Right now, the lead actors club were putting on an imitation rally, contesting to see who could do the most imitations of celebrities. The rest were either watching and laughing, or just preparing to head home. 

  Actor 1 did an impersonation of a girl group member and passed. Everyone loved it, clapping their hands in approval.

  Actor 2 did an impersonation of another girl group member and passed. Everyone laughed.

  Actor 3... and so on.

  Bogum even went, doing an impersonation of Won Bin, and nailing it. He chuckled, shaking his head to deny the praise when everyone applauded.

  Actor 1 went again, and so on. My cheeks were hurting because I had to laugh so much.

  Soon I grew bored of this game, and decided to sneak peeks at Bogum instead. He looked at the actors who were standing up as they took their turn, with a wide-eyed wonder, almost like a child. After each person went their turn he would laugh, creases flashing near his eyes and smile. I thought they made him look extremely genuine.

  And then the unthinkable happened.

  His smile faded. 

  It was Actor 1 (one of the original actors when I first joined the club) who had done an impersonation, and Bogum had not laughed. His smile fell almost immediately, and suddenly a stone cold expression had overtaken his face. It was a split second, before he gulped down a glass of water. 

  He must be tired, I thought to myself, feeling breathless from laughing so hard as well.

  But perhaps it was because this was the first time I had actually observed him, or perhaps it was because as of now I had assumed that Bogum never frowned, but his icy cold expression, a stark contrast to the shining warm one he showed, scared me. It looked like the whole world had owed him something, and he was mad at everyone. It shocked me so much, that I found my eyes transfixed on him, waiting to see if I had merely mistaken his expression.

  He was smiling, propping his chin on the table with his arm, laughing at something the actors did, and then his smile slipped. As he leaned into his palm, his palm covering the lower part of his face, the glimmer from his eyes disappeared, turning cold. I watched, as he looked at the ceiling then glanced down, blinking. And then suddenly he had turned back into an innocent Bogum.

  Did he... did he just roll his eyes?

  I looked at the people around him. Did no one really notice anything? They were laughing, some even slapping Bogum on the back, but all oblivious to his death stare. Was this normal?

  I looked at Bogum again, and froze.

  He was wearing that same stone cold expression, but his eyes were staring-- no, boring down-- into mine.

---