The kiss lasts just for the fraction of a second, Jinyoung's lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth, barely touching them. Yet the contact is still there, it’s cold, hot, and electrifying, almost like drowning without any water. You're frozen for a moment, immobile, stuck in place. Then, when you get back to your senses, realize what is happening, you push him away with all the force you can muster up at that moment.

“What are you doing?” you yell out. As you gasp for air, panting, because Jinyoung had just kissed you. You look at him as the shock still surging through your veins, but it isn't just shock. You feel disgusted as you brush your hand against your lips as if it could wipe away what had just happened.

Looking up, Jinyoung's smile is almost a smirk, victorious and nonchalant. It makes you angry. Makes you angry that he just kissed you without your consent. Without asking you. “I needed to shake off an annoying harlot”, he explains casually, shrugging, then dusting some nonexistent dust off his shoulders.

A harlot? You repeat the word in your mind, letting out a scoff. How much more unlikable can he get? You clench your fists, your nails leave tiny half-moon imprints in your skin. Enraged, you spit out the next words.

“But that doesn't excuse you using me.”

Not to mention that you don't consider his words an apology. No. They're not. You wouldn't even consider them an explanation.

Suddenly, interrupting your thoughts, but not stopping your anger, an arms snakes around your shoulder, places itself around your neck. You startle at the sudden movement, ready to twist the arm away.

“Couple's spat?” someone then asks with a cheery voice, stopping you from chastising Jinyoung any further. Stopping you from doing anything else.

“Jackson”, Jinyoung lets out, tearing his eyes away from you. His eyes that still remain dark, but before the two can greet each other, you get back to your senses and tear Jackson's arm away from your shoulders.

“I'm not Jinyoung's girlfriend”, you clarify with narrowed eyes, trying to control your anger that is still cursing through your body like a sudden sickness. A fever that has taken you over. You exhale loudly, letting out a huff. “So- No, this is not a couple's spat.”

You feel Jinyoung's eyes on you and turn to him. Dark black eyes holding a controlled expression. The victorious expression from before is gone, but you can see something else in his eyes now. Something that you don't want to consider. Interest. And it makes you even angrier.

Jinyoung smiles lightly. Luxuriously. Directs his next words at you. “I'm sorry”, he says, voice dripping with condescension as if the matter isn't even something he should be apologizing for. “I suppose you'd be content now. An apology especially for you.”

You change into a belligerent stance, crossing your arms against your chest and stare up at him, not giving in to the height difference. “I'm not going to accept it.”

“Well then”, he says, turning from you to the other boy, as if your lack of acceptance is completely irrelevant to him, “allow me to introduce you two to each other. Jackson meet the beautiful Juyeon.” His hand extends in a gesture to show you to his friend. “Juyeon meet Jackson.”

You huff at him ignoring you. Then, said boy, Jackson, steps into your line of vision with an awkward smile. Despite the awkward smile, he's undeniably handsome, you notice. A striped black and white jumper, prominent nose and dark brown eyes, framed by thick eyebrows. His hair has a dark brown color with the roots being even darker. You even notice two small earrings in his earlobe as you quickly glance over at him.

Jackson's eyes widen a bit after looking at you. “Juyeon?” he repeats, eyebrows shooting up. Recognition flashes in his eyes for a second. Then he opens his mouth, honest words spilling out. “You know, Bambam has been talking about you a lot.”

You freeze at his words. Bambam has been talking about you? At once, your anger abruptly dissipates. You're flustered instead. Shocked. Heat rising into your cheeks, you stare at the floor for a second until you hear Jackson again, speaking with that smooth voice that fits his good-natured smile. For a moment, you're mute.

“You know, now that I've met Bambam's girl, I can't wait to see Mark's.”

Your eyes widen at that statement. Mark? Mark's girl? You freeze for a second. All kinds of horrible scenarios flashing in your mind.

“Ma- Mark has a girlfriend?” you force out, looking up at Jackson. Jinyoung is still standing by your side, you notice, watching the scene play out with great interest, a mere spectator, but the anger that you felt before has been pushed back into your mind, replaced with worry instead.

Suddenly and for a short second, you feel stupid. Has Mark been lying to you? Is he a cheater? A two-timer? A player? Was your first impression of him so wrong? Worries regarding your sister invade your mind, taking over your thoughts.

You can only hear Jackson laughing at your question. “Well, he's been tutoring this girl or something...” He trails off and touches his chin for a second. Your alarms shrill. You don't like where this is going. You don't like it at all.

Then Jackson waves his hands, correcting himself. “No wait, you know, he has a girl he likes and they study there together.” He snaps his fingers, beaming at you. “That's it.”

At his words you feel numb, stupid and your brain shuts down. You barely register his next words, only notice the way his mouth opens.

“I'm sorry, I have to go to the washroom”, you mumble. You can feel Jinyoung's gaze on you, still, as well as Jackson's confused eyes, but you ignore both and trudge upstairs with slow steps in a dazed.

When you finally find the bathroom, you lean against the counter, barely registering the marble. It's expansive and luxurious like everything in this house. The face that looks back at you from the mirror is pale. So pale that you can see the blue and purple veins on your eyelids. Unlike before when you still felt the anger surging through you, you just feel tired. Exhausted. Lifeless. You sigh at your reflection for a second, feeling pathetic.

“Something is going seriously wrong”, you utter. Not just wrong, you muse. If you had planned a route, a road that you wanted to follow, life had now swerved into the opposite direction, going another way. The completely wrong one.

You frown at that thought and then gather cold water in your hands, lightly splashing your face. After that you take a small towel that lies on the counter and press it against your face. You stay like that for a second, no a minute, maybe longer. The numbness that you feel because of the cold matches your emotional state. You let out another sigh at that thought, it's not good to wallow in self-pity.

When you're done, you try to open the door when someone stops you. You look up just to see JB's twinkling eyes. Eyes that you don't want to see right now, eyes that make you feel guilty. You need to talk to Mark.

“Princess”, Jb lets out, reaching for your arm, but you turn away, weakly attempting to narrow your eyes at him. His tall figure, his hair the color of copper and his dark green sweater.

“Are you always this impertinent?” you finally huff, twisting your arm away from his grasp.

“You ok?” he suddenly asks, staring at you with curious eyes, surprised by your reaction. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You shake your head at his words. “I don't have time right now”, you mutter. Not even sparing him a last glance, you slip away, disappearing in the crowd. You have to find Mark or your sister….right now. You can decide what to do after that.

Surprisingly, your wish gets granted after scurrying through the crowd downstairs, but it isn't just one of them that you find. It's both. Mark and your sister, talking amicably with drinks in their hands. Your sister looks happy. She's laughing at something Mark is saying, leaning close against his shoulder. Too close.

You stand still for a second, only your hands trembling. Jackson's words are still seared into your mind, making you burn up. What are you supposed to do? Just barge in and confront Mark with what Jackson told you? Demand him to tell you the truth?

Then something dark. Soft hands that cover your eyes.

“Can you guess who it is?” a light voice whispers into your ear. Warm breath against your skin. Goosebumps.

You recognize the voice immediately, without having to turn around. There's no need when you heard it so many times before. “Bambam”, you let out a soft whisper.

He removes his hands, his fingers grazing your shoulders, ghosting over your skin. “You guessed correctly. Do you want a prize, then?”

A prize, huh?

You turn around at that to look at him. He's wearing simple black pants and a blue dress shirt. Blue. Again. Your color. He gives you a smile as he notices your gaze stopping for a second, making you blush. What prize, you muse for a second, just seeing him is enough.

“Let's go to the balcony”, he proposes then, taking your hand into his. His that feels warm again, comforting and for a moment you're so distracted by it that you nearly forget about your sister. Your sister and Mark, but then the thought that slowly crept away, gets back at you, hits you with full force.

You hesitate for a second and, as if sensing your reluctance, Bambam stops, too. “Are you okay?” he asks, facing you with a worried expression. Ever so perceptive.

“I-...” Your voice trails off. And that's when you do something you shouldn't have done. Something that is wrong no matter how much you think about it. You ignore Mark and your sister and just put on a smile, squeezing Bambam's hand, “No, there's nothing wrong.”

Together, you go up the stairs, meandering through the crowd hand in hand until you realize where you are going. Pushing the glass door to the side, Bambam leads you out onto the balcony. The distant whiff of smoke crawls into your nose. It's dark already but you're in awe when you notice the rich and intricate designs on the white pillars. Maybe it just serves as a distraction from the guilt that is beginning to make you feel dizzy.

“Do you like them?” Bambam asks, his eyes gliding over your face. You stop gaping at the figures that are carved into the stone for a second and nod, “It- It's really pretty.”

He smiles brightly at your words and together, you sit down. Bambam takes your hand into both of his, placing them into his lap as you crane your neck to look up at the stars.

He tells you the name of a particularly beautiful constellation. Something beautiful. Ancient. Then he points out another one as you feel his eyes on you.

“Juyeon”, he suddenly says, his usually soft voice sounding loud against the quiet backdrop. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”

You turn away from the stars and look at him. His eyes are so clear and bright, just like stars on their own. His blond hair covers his forehead, he's more beautiful than any star could be and he's closer.

“I want to show you what the stars look like in Thailand.”

Your heart stops for a second. You look at your intertwined hands, then at his face. Your mouth has gone dry.

“W- What?”

Bambam smiles. “I want you to come to Thailand with me during the semester break. It's the same time as your holidays, so I thought you could go with me. We could look at the stars and I could introduce you to my family. Only if you want, of course...” The storm of his words abates after that, slows down as he trails of awkwardly.

But his proposition has raised a storm in your heart, a tempest of emotions. Feelings. Shock being the most obvious one. You are shocked. Thailand. Thailand with Bambam. With Bambam and his family.

Before you can produce any intelligent words, before you can string together a coherent sentence, he opens his mouth again.

“I know, it's a lot, isn't it? I don't want to pressure you.”

You hold your breath for a second, blinking fervently. Bambam is right, it is a lot. It means you have to make a choice. A decision which requires you to pick. To choose between 'yes' or 'no'. Theoretically, there couldn't be a maybe. There couldn't be a way to avoid this, but you do anyways. You do avoid it and try to trace the fine line.

Putting on a smile, you turn to Bambam, observing him as you realize that you're going to hold off on making a choice. Hold off on going a step further. Maybe, that is what you are, not just an introverted homebody. Someone shy. No, you're not just shy. You're indecisive. A coward, afraid of making choices. Of making choices that could turn out to be wrong.

The stray light from the inside is caressing Bambam's skin, imbuing his face, tinting it. His eyes meet yours for a moment. Knowing. Pained. Pained because he must know. Pained because he is still as perceptive as the day the two of you met. He closes his eyes for a second, the corner of his lips moving up.

Then he leans over, quickly, and leaves a kiss on your cheek. A kiss that lasts only for a moment. It is short, sweet, a promise, and one that is reassuring.

Bambam sinks back, leans back. His cheeks are red and his smile has turned awkward. He moves his head back as his lashes flutter. Before he can open his mouth, a sound shatters the silence, a sound that breaks the silence into pieces and leaves it in shards.

Bambam frowns and gets out his phone. His expression changes after looking at the display. Becomes professional, like when he talks to clerks or waiters. Polite but distant, he pushes his hair back.

“I'm sorry. I need to talk to Jinyoung for a second.” Giving you an apologetic smile, he moves to stand up. “I will be back in a few minutes or so. If it gets too cold you should head inside. I don't want you to catch a cold, ok?”

He laughs after that, after his cheesy words and swiftly straightens up. Giving you another once over, he lets out a breath. “Really, don't wait out here in the cold, ok?”

You nod slightly. “It's ok. I'll head inside if it gets too cold”, you promise. His expressions eases at your words. He gives you a last smile before heading inside.

When he's gone, you sink back down, your eyes downcast as you stare at your feet. Your thoughts circle around Bambam. Random thoughts of Thailand appear in your head as you inhale, that's when you notice it.

You take another breath, just to make sure. Sniffle even, but it's clear. The scent of smoke, the scent that had seemed so weak before, wafting into your nose as if carried away from the house to the outside, now seemed so much stronger…closer.

You frown at the scent and crane your neck, trying to figure out where it is coming from. Standing up, you notice a shadow, more like a silhouette. You move closer and when you go behind the pillar, you can see it. A smaller balcony, not less impressive than the one you were on with Bambam, and there's Youngjae.

Youngjae standing there. With his bored eyes, eyes that seem to bore into you. For a second, you're startled. Did he hear anything? Did he hear what Bambam said? Did he hear what Bambam asked you? You blink repeatedly, rubbing your fingers against your thighs.

“Did- Did you hear anything?” You bite your lips after the words leave your mouth, nervousness threatening to take over.

His expression is indifferent. He shrugs slightly, his shoulders moving up.

“Hear what?” he asks.

You don't know if he actually didn't hear anything or if he's just feigning ignorance, but for the moment, it's enough. Enough to pretend that he really didn't hear anything, enough to imagine that he really didn't hear anything, enough to make you feel relieved.

You gulp and your eyes glide down. That's when you notice the cigarette between his fingers. Now you know where the smoke came from at least, you think for a second. Yet the sight makes a frown spread on your face.

Youngjae seems to catch it, as he moves his fingers, retracts them to hold the cigarette behind his back discreetly as if he could hide them from you now.

“Do- Do you smoke?” you suddenly blurt out, snapping your head up. Right after the words leave your mouth, you want to take them back. Obviously he smokes, he's holding a cigarette in his hands. What else would he do with it? Sheepishly, you stare back at the ground.

“Yeah.”

You feel his eyes on you after his short statement, piercing through you. Is he gauging for your reaction? No, he couldn't be, could he?

“Does it taste good?” You then ask, curious all of a sudden.

For a second, it' silent after your question. Not the type of silence that you bask in and revel in, not the type of silence that you can relax in. You shiver for a second, coldness creeping up and pull your arms closer, rubbing against your skin. Youngjae face is a mask. A mask that makes it impossible to say what he's thinking. Then, he opens his pink, chapped lips. Two words spoken in his sharp voice.

“It doesn't.”