~~~

5:03 PM

The dial tone fills his ear and Sehun carelessly tosses his phone aside. He's been calling for the past thirty minutes, only to get no reply, and he lies back down on his bed while Vivi crawls onto his chest and falls asleep. Not that he was expecting Jongin to pick up, anyway. Not at all.

As harsh as he might have been earlier, Sehun is still frustrated, because Jongin has been avoiding him all day and Sehun honestly has no idea as to how he's supposed to apologize when the brunet won't even bring himself to answer the phone. Speaking of which, Baekhyun and Jongdae, who both tend to be over the top on any normal day, seemed oddly on edge and a little hostile earlier, if Sehun is going to be honest with himself. One thought quickly leads to another and before he knows it, Sehun is reminded of how strangely Junmyeon and Chanyeol acted earlier today, which Sehun really doesn't understand and it plagues him to no end to have to think about it so much. So, in a desperate attempt to deal with the fuzziness in his brain, he grabs a pillow and begins kneading it with his hands in both frustration and anger.

It's almost surreal, Sehun thinks, how quickly everything went down; how quickly everything went south in what feels like a matter of seconds. It almost feels like Sehun told Jongin he loved him, only for the entire roof to cave down on him the very next second, which wouldn't be very far from the truth. Sehun figures that even though he might've been a little too harsh on Jongin all those hours ago, Sehun had good reason to be, because Yifan was standing right there; six feet away, and the brunet was all over him and he just didn't know what to do, and Yifan was staring right into his soul with those big, confused eyes of his and-

Sehun brings his train of thought to an emergency stop as he audibly exhales in exasperation. Jesus Christ.

With a huff, Sehun rolls over to his side, Vivi promptly scrambling to get off of him, before he grabs his phone and fiddles with it in his hands. He bites his lip. It wasn't my fault...was it? he thinks again and again, and he finally comes to the (very vague and equally hasty) conclusion that it wasn't, in fact, his fault, because he can indeed explain himself, and that it's simply Jongin's fault for not letting him explain himself.

Speaking of which, Sehun unlocks his phone and makes an nth attempt at calling the brunet, which, inevitably, goes directly to voicemail, after which Sehun definitely doesn't bother recording a voice message because, like he keeps telling himself, if Jongin really cared enough, he would understand how Sehun feels and let the latter explain the situation more thoroughly. instead of avoiding him.

Damn it, Sehun thinks before dialling Jongin's number again, only for the sound of Jongin's voice, partially covered with static, to fill the silent room, and Sehun doesn't know if he should feel happy or downright pissed off at hearing the brunet's voice, and he finally settles for the latter, because the next thing he knows, he's hurrying to end the call before his phone starts recording his voice message.

When Sehun lies back down again, ignoring his phone to the fullest, he closes his eyes and tries thinking about Nationals and the game they're going to be playing in a little more than two weeks. He doesn't know how many meetings he'll have to drag himself to up until next month (or after, if they win), but he figures the numbers are sky high, and he inwardly groans before exhaling shakily. Now that he thinks about it, he's got at least three exams coming up before the day they're supposed to take the bus to New York, which does nothing to stop the anxious tingling in his nerves. Despite that, he doesn't even bother getting out of bed and getting out his textbooks because, not only was he blessed with an extremely high learning ability at birth, but his brain feels like a blank slate and Sehun partially blames it on his jam packed (sports) schedule, as well as...other things; things he'd rather not dedicate any of his remaining brain power to as of right now.

For some reason, Sehun finds himself dialling Jongin's number for the thousandth time in the past fifteen minutes and he rolls his eyes when he hears the brunet's voicemail, which Sehun practically knows by heart by now, and he figures Jongin must be at home with a fever or something before rolling over and closing his eyes, a wave of sleep washing over him.

---

"That's what, the fiftieth time in the past five seconds? Man, is he an idiot," Jungah scoffs before pressing 'Decline' on Jongin's phone. She's been sitting on Jongin's bed and pressing the same button over and over again for the past twenty minutes, much to her irritation yet mild amusement, while the brunet lies a few feet away, watching with a blank look on his face. "Does he ever give up? I swear, if he tries calling one more time, I'm gonna go over to his house and clobber him."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jongin takes his phone back when they wait for another five minutes, only for his phone not to buzz even once. At first, his fingers were practically aching to reach over and answer his ringing phone, only for Jungah to harshly slap his hands away while lecturing him about 'The negative side effects of clinginess and obsession' as well as 'Self control', and if Jongin is going to be completely honest, the urge to pick up his phone and talk to Sehun grew significantly smaller each time it rang, for some odd (and relieving) reason, but he figures it mainly had to with the string of vulgar curse words that Jungah would spew out of with every ring, which grew even more obscene each time it buzzed, much to Jongin's amusement.

"Seriously, I was getting worried we'd have to sit here all night," Jungah mumbles with an eyeroll. "Some men just can't let go, it's kinda sad," she adds, apparently forgetting the fact that she's got a man sitting right beside her. Her eyes suddenly light up. "Hey, actually, I'm kinda glad he chose to be a clingy nincompoop since now you've learned a thing or two about restraint," she says gleefully, thumping Jongin on the back, making the latter sputter.

Rubbing the sore spot on his shoulder, which definitely needs an hour's worth of massage, Jongin chuckles low in his throat. He honestly doesn't know how to feel right now, but he would be lying if he said he was feeling down and gloomy, which he, for some reason, definitely doesn't, and he assumes he's got Jungah to thank for that. "I...guess."

"But you, on the other hand," Jungah starts, pointing to Jongin, who blinks. "You'll be the first man in all of history to be able to let go and move on and save yourself from looking like a desperate, whiny crybaby." She smiles in both encouragement and triumph, and the brunet clears his throat a little. "What? It's true! I know you will! What's with the low self esteem?!"

"I don't have low self esteem!" Jongin squawks in surprise before he plays with a loose thread on one of his pillows. "It's just...I dunno."

Jungah rolls her eyes. "Don't dwell on it too long, Kim Jongin, I know you're better than that," she says, patting Jongin on the back. "Anyway, he's probably just mad he hasn't got his little slave with him anymore, which for him," she mumbles after a while, shrugging unapologetically.

Jongin bites the inside of his cheek and inwardly cries when he accidentally tugs on the thread a little too hard, causing the corner of the pillow to burst at the seams. . "Probably," he mutters, way too focused on trying to stuff the cotton back into the pillow. His stomach coils a little at Jungah's words because he doesn't like being called a slave, at all, although he chooses not to tell her. "What...uh...what do I do now?" he asks dumbly, his cheeks flushing a little when Jungah blinks in surprise, because he suddenly feels like a six year old.

"Easy," Jungah squees, standing up a little too energetically since Jongin's phone nearly slides off the edge of the bed. "You're gonna move on and find yourself another man," she adds encouragingly, patting Jongin on the head and ignoring the latter's grumble of protest. "That is, unless you're planning on dwelling on Mr. head for the rest of your life." She walks towards Jongin's closet and throws the doors open and, surprisingly, nothing falls out. 

Jongin blinks, his stomach churning in both discomfort and curiosity because, as much as the thought of forgetting all about Sehun, which he doubts he ever will (he doesn't dare say that part out loud, though, because Jungah would definitely slap him), scares the living daylights out of him and makes him want to puke his lungs out, there's something about Jungah's tone and excited body language that makes his eyes glimmer in excitement, and Jongin doesn't know how that's supposed to make him feel.

He suddenly blinks in astonishment because...a man?? A different man?? Jongin blinks again because he hasn't even given the idea a single thought, until now, that is, and he doesn't know if said idea should make him feel scared or downright excited. As much as Jongin tries convincing himself that he doesn't, in fact, want, or need, "another man" (as Jungah keeps saying), the excited bubbling in his stomach begs to differ. However, before he can stop himself, the feeling of excitement is suddenly replaced with dread because-

"You're not a terrible frickin' person for moving on," Jungah says, briefly turning her head, and Jongin's jaw nearly hits the floor because , is she a psychic or what. "I can see your eyeballs practically trembling in their sockets, dude, relax a bit," she adds with a chuckle when she sees Jongin's nervous expression.

Jongin is silent for an embarrassingly long time before he reaches up and brushes a few strands of hair out of his face. "Uh..."

"Wanting the best for yourself isn't something to feel bad or guilty about, use your head," Jungah says, turning back to face the contents of Jongin's closet and her eyebrows furrow while her eyes trail over the hundreds of garments before her. If they're dirty or clean, she (or Jongin, for that matter, alarmingly enough) honestly has no idea. "For a straight-A student, you sure can be awfully stupid sometimes, y'know that, right?"

"Thanks," Jongin says with a dramatically wide grin before rolling his eyes. "Anyway, the hell are you-"

"Okay, answer me this," Jungah interrupts, placing her hands on her hips and batting her eyelashes. "Imagine this." She clears and points at Jongin, who blinks. "You and the most handsome guy on the face of the earth after he successfully asks you out."

Jongin blinks. For some reason, the mental image from when he and Sehun were alone in the hallway two weeks ago and chatting away pops into his head and he mentally punches himself to get it to go away. "Uh. Okay. Go on."

"Take Christian Grey, for instance," Jungah chuckles. "Anyway-"

"What's with this weird idea of yours that I'm crushing on Christian freaking Grey?" Jongin squabbles in frustration, running a hand down his face. She seems to constantly forget the fact that he didn't even want anything to do with the movie earlier. At all. "Anyway-"

"Because you seem to fall for the tall, gentleman-y ones with the dramatic eyebrows," Jungah cackles before putting a hand in the air. "Anyway, so you're about to go on a date with Christian G-"

"Not Christian Grey!" Jongin hollers, throwing his hands in the air. "Seriously-"

"What would you wear?" Jungah asks, ignoring Jongin's remark to the very fullest. She doesn't even give him a chance to reply before she bends down and picks up a, hopefully clean, shirt. "This?"

Jongin sighs in exasperation. "I wore that to Grandma's funeral, dimwit," he mumbles while seriously questioning what's wrong with the female gender when it comes to love.

"It's nice and tight, so wear it anyway, men everywhere will flip the second they lay their eyes on you, trust me," Jungah says as a matter-of-factly before carefully folding the shirt and placing it on the brunet's chair, ignoring the latter's cry of 'I'm not a woman!'. "How about some equally tight pants to go with it?" she asks contemplatively, eyes scanning the piles of clothes before her.

Dragging a hand down his face, Jongin shrugs. "Sure, why not," he grumbles, lying down on the mattress. It's not until he hears the sound of what he assumes is Jungah raiding his entire closet that he groans. "What on God's green Earth are you even doing-"

"How about these?" Jungah beams as she holds up a pair of black skinny jeans, and Jongin instinctively swallows because he very clearly remembers wearing those pants two weeks ago, at the café. "Walking might be a little difficult, but hey, a guy's got to do what a guy's got to do, right?" she adds sheepishly.

Jongin is silent for a moment. "Choose something else," he says after a few seconds, scratching the back of his neck. 

"What? These are perfect, why would you-" Jungah abruptly cuts herself off when her eyes fly open in realization, and Jongin nearly chokes on his own spit when she proceeds to throw the pants on the floor like they're on fire, accompanied with a shrill shriek of terror. "Goddamn Christ-"

"Told you," Jongin chuckles, wiping at his eye. "I'm surprised you didn't notice," he adds before running a hand through his hair. "Anyway, what on Earth are you doing?"

"First of all, it was dark and second of all, it was two bloody weeks ago," Jungah retorts, blowing air into her hands as if to cleanse them. "So basically, what I want you to do is to wear this outfit on Monday at school, the whole day," she says, putting her hands on her hips and shooting Jongin a smile.

Jongin blinks. "...Why?"

"You said you wanted a man," Jungah huffs in annoyance before gesturing to the closet. "Find yourself a pair of decent looking pants yourself since I'm done trying to avoid the pizza slices and Pop Tarts in there," she adds, grimacing. "Seriously, did nobody ever teach you the difference between a dumpster and a closet?" She tuts for a second before standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jongin sits up and presses his lips together. "How is that," he starts, nodding at the clothes on his chair, "gonna help me 'find a man', may I ask?" he mumbles under his breath, still trying to figure out what's wrong with women. He comes out with nothing. 

"Duh," Jungah chuckles, "guys flip for tight clothing." She shoots Jongin an overdramatic wink before tightening her ponytail. Jongin just noticed that today, her hair isn't in pigtails, and he wonders how on Earth he missed it, since her hair tends to be styled that way at least 364 days a year.

"I'm not a girl!" Jongin wails in frustration, shaking his head in disbelief. "Look, I think Dad needs help with dinner, could you please-"

Jungah puts a hand in the air, effectively silencing the brunet. "I hate to say his name," she starts, obviously disgusted, "but Sehun seemed to gravitate towards you when you wore those." She points to the pants lying neglected on the floor a few feet away. "So yeah. I guess you're a girl now," she adds with a loud laugh, although her facial expression quickly changes from amused to downright repulsed. "God, saying his name makes me feel like I'm sinning." She goes silent for a few minutes before her gaze lands on Jongin's phone, which is still lying on the bed. "I wonder what he's doing right now."

Jongin blinks at the sudden change in subject and he bites his lip when he looks at his phone. "I...don't know," he mumbles before lying back down. Truthfully, he doesn't want to know, either.

"Probably looking for somebody new to add to his vulnerable-boys-to-use-and-manipulate list," Jungah says in a spiteful tone, flat out ignoring Jongin's squawk of 'I am not vulnerable!'. "Don't waste your precious time on him, jerks don't deserve it, remember that," she adds, patting Jongin's shoulder. "Point is, you need to have to teach yourself to fall out of love. It's difficult as hell, but once you actually get to it, you'll regret ever feeling sad and heartbroken."

Jongin is silent for a while. It's been years since he and Jungah exchanged this many words with each other and he has to clear his throat to distract himself. "Uh...but...what if I fall back in l-"

"Then I'll grab your shoulders and shake you 'til you fall right out of it," Jungah says boldly and as a matter-of-factly, and Jongin can only nod his head in agreement because the thought of his shoulders hurting more than they already are is enough to make him want to fall out of love for the rest of his life. "What are you laughing at?"

Closing his mouth, Jongin stares at Jungah dumbly before clearing his throat. He didn't even realize he'd been chuckling out loud until now and he feels himself blush a little. "Nothing, it's just..."

"This better not be about-"

"It's not," Jongin blurts out. "I mean, it sort of is, but not really," he mumbles, scratching the back of his ear. "It's just...I rememberd something my friend told me yesterday."

Jungah raises a perfectly filled in eyebrow. "What?"

"You remember Jessica, right?" Jongin asks. "Blonde, tall as a skyscrapter and sort of really pretty?" he adds and smiles when Jungah nods. "Well, I just thought of something she said about...well, Sehun." He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Your BFF before Jongdae and Baekhyun became a thing, I remember her. And now you got me." Jungah leans in, clearly interested. "Let's hear it, mister."

Swallowing upon hearing Jongdae's and Baekhyun's names, Jongin shrugs. "It's nothing groundbreaking, it's just that she always got loner vibes from him and that he didn't have many friends and would prioritize football over essentially anything else," he says, memories crashing down on him one by one. He despises them all. "It''s just...yeah."

Jungah nods slowly, apparently deep in thought. "Well yeah, a loner who was apparently so ashamed of his own boyfriend that he chose to be a complete and utter dicksack, nothing new," she says in a bored tone before stretching. "Okay, not to sound like a character from a ty soap opera or anything," she adds, and the brunet braces himself for disaster, "but you deserve better. Much better. Remember that."

Trying to squash the warm sensation that erupts in his chest, Jongin clears his throat because she really did sound like a character from a ty soap opera, but for some reason, he finds himself liking it. "Uh...thanks, I guess," he says dumbly, pressing his lips together.

"Love is blind, Jongin," Jungah hums, staring up at the ceiling. "You, my friend, just have to learn how to see again, that's all," she adds before she furrows her eyebrows. "Didn't Mom buy those for you when you were like, two?"

Looking up at the star stickers above, Jongin smiles a little. "Yup. They're starting to unstick, though, so I should probably take 'em down soon," he says absentmindedly before he looks to the right. Jesus Christ, it's dark out. "I think you should help Dad out downstairs," he adds when he hears the sounds of plates crashing and banging. Normally, he absolutely detests cheesy, sappy and overly poetic love quotes, but there's something about hearing the way Jungah saying it that makes him rethink his opinions.

Jungah sits up and cards her slim fingers through her ponytail. "Please. You've had 'em for ages, it's about time you grew the hell up and stopped being six years old already. I remember damn good and well how much you cried when Mom threatened to throw them out nine years ago, it was glorious," she chuckles and barely manages to avoid being slapped on the arm by the brunet. "Cause honestly, a strong man doesn't need stars with him at all times to be happy," she adds before standing up with a grunt and walking towards the door. However, she halts and slowly turns around when the air is filled with a suspicious silence, and she blinks when she sees the unreadable look on Jongin's face. "...What's with you?"

Jongin continues to stare at Jungah (or rather, into the distance) for a good two minutes from his spot on the bed. His brain is reeling, but for a different reason this time, and his heart is pounding, but for a very different reason this time, and there's a coiling sensation forming in the pit of his gut, but it's far from agonizing. He forces himself to focus his gaze again (so he doesn't look all too much like a zombie, that is) five minutes later and shoots Jungah his best smile.

"Nothing," he says simply, feeling his nerves tingle. "Nothing," he repeats when Jungah shoots him a confused look. "Help Dad out before he breaks something, will you."

Jungah stands by the door for a while before she slowly nods and grabs the door handle. "You're setting the table tomorrow," she grumbles before opening the door and closing it behind her.

Once he no longer hears her footsteps outside his room, Jongin continues to stare up at the ceiling. For some reason, he feels like he's floating on clouds and he prays to God he isn't suffering from severe heartbreak induced hallucinations. He isn't, though, he's sure of it, and Jongin props his head up on one of his pillows, which feels softer and fluffier than it did last night, for some odd reason.

Suddenly feeling extremely tired, Jongin begins closing his eyes but they quickly fly open when his gaze lands on a certain familiar yellowness in the corner of his closet. It's almost as if it's surrounded by a glowing, white light and Jongin feels his chest swell with a sense of both euphoria and excitement before his eyes slip shut.

~

Jongin has a dream that night. In said dream, he finds himsel standing in front of a large, closed door; a door that's so tall and big he can barely see the top of it or where it ends, but that doesn't matter to him. All he knows is that he's certain that he recognizes it from somewhere. At some point, Jongin finds himself holding a key, which is surprsingly lightweight, and his arms seem to move of their own accord as he brings the key forward before jamming it in the keyhole. He turns the key for a short while before removing it, and it disappears from his hand the moment he hears the sound of a lock clicking into place. He turns on his heel and walks away, feeling the door quickly disintegrate behind him, as he's plunged into an even deeper, and peaceful, state of slumber.

~~~