A few weeks had gone by quietly without a single message from the guys. Those cards may have turned your relationships with them into embarrassing acquaintance memories. March had come around faster than February, that even the buds from the weeds in grass were already starting to sprout. The weather, however, didn’t feel much warmer.

After you put your satchel into your cubby, you walked over to look at the assignment board. You smiled when you read the location assigned to you. At last, it was your favorite place: the courtyard.

Your phone began to ring, and you pulled it out from your pocket.

“Hello..?” you said into the phone.

“Hey…we need to talk,”

“Talk?…About what?” you questioned.

“Come to my room, see you in five minutes,”

“But…” you didn’t even get to finish, and the call ended. You stared at your phone; brows scrunched with a frown for a few seconds before stuffing the phone back into your pocket.

You knocked a few times before the door to Woozi’s recording room flung open.

“Come in,” he invited, his face serious and objective. He noticed your confused expression and a small smile broke on his face. “I won’t hurt you,” he joked before stepping aside from the door.

“What’s going on? Why did you sound so serious on the phone?”

“Because this is serious stuff we need to talk about,”

“What is it?” you blurted anxiously.

Woozi nodded his head for you to enter and you rolled your eyes in response. After weeks of nothing from him, he was exactly the same person he had always been.

You observed as Woozi pulled a chair in front of a table out for you. He waited for you to sit before he made himself comfortable beside you.

You then stared with blazing cheeks as Woozi pulled out raggedy notes from his pocket. After placing them onto the table, he stated, “Well…I WAS writing a hit song for this year. But you ruined it by illegally participating.” You frowned as Woozi pushed your notes towards you. “Principal Kwon won’t be too delighted if he found out. So, I’ve decided I’m going to use your letter and turn it into a song.”

“WHAT?? NO!” you shouted, “and…and also I’m sorry…I really was writing quotes as a joke…I didn’t realize…”

Your response didn’t faze Woozi. Instead, all he did was lean back in his chair allowing his legs to extend under the table.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” he asked as he placed his hands behind his head, clasping them together.

“Well…I don’t think this has anything to do with me,” you rebuked as you began to play with a strand of your hair.

“It has everything to do with you. I can’t write the song with the phrases you contributed without getting you into trouble. I have to credit the person I collaborated with. You know that right?”

His comeback silenced you. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Well…well why don’t you just…just write a new lyric…?” you asked.

Woozi released his hands from behind his head. “I don’t have any more time,” he replied and then shifted himself closer to you in which you scooted your chair away in response.

“I’ll give you three choices,” he announced as he rested one elbow onto the table and locked his eyes onto yours. When had he become so confident and dominating that even you coiled inside from his presence? This was a different side of him. A side that was possibly dressed in a business suit with commanding abilities. His eyes were small, serious, and almost hypnotizing. Whatever power he possessed had you at attention. “One, I’m going to use the notes you contributed and finish the lyrics. I will credit the both of us. Two, I will use your letter and put music to it and credit myself, or three, you