“And that’s how my mom broke out of jail.” Changgu hears Yanan finish. He turns to see Yanan wave goodbye to another guy in a fancy suit, before coming up and collapsing in the booth across from Changgu.

“Give me your fries.” There’s a tuft of air that escapes from the black pleather seats as Yanan sinks into them, head stood up on the straight line his right forearm makes

“Hey, you should stop spreading rumors about yourself; they’re getting out of hand.” Changgu responds, too startled to react when Yanan steals said fries. “And is your meeting already over?”

“Our internship director is a vegetarian so I had to eat a ing bush for dinner.” Yanan ignores the greeting, and dips a clawful of ten fries into ketchup, around six of the ten fries actually reaching the ketchup, before shoving them in his mouth and leaving a ring of the red sauce near his right lip.

“Did you actually eat? I don’t think I’ve seen you eat a plant since like… 2002.”

“She was paying.” Yanan shrugs. “It would have been rude. My meeting didn’t end early; you probably lost track of time during rehearsal again.”

“Did your meeting go well? Does it seem like a lot of work?”

“Everyone’s been nice to me since they found out my dad owned a factory.” Yanan nods. “It seems okay, not much more work than adding another class. I didn’t know you in 2002.”

“But I’ve heard rumors.” Changgu laughs at the deepening scowl in Yanan’s eyes. “Tales of Yanan and the carrot. And epoch of grand proportions.”

“Did you download the next episode of LA Typewriter?” Yanan changes the subject, pulling his laptop out of his backpack.

“It’s Chicago, dammit. Nope.”

“Which one are we on? 8?” Yanan continues, and splotch of red sauce is still there. His tongue peeks out, but retreats after swiping at the left side of his bottom lip.

“12.” Changgu corrects. “We started at 8 yesterday and you ended up ordering pizzas when we were done eating so we could keep watching because you didn’t want to do your accounting .”

“I like pizza.” Yanan nods, eyes glazing over as he browses for download links.

Changgu finally just does it, reaching across the table and seeing Yanan’s gaze dart to his encroaching finger before returning back to the screen, unfazed. He frowns when Changgu ends up smearing the ketchup up his cheek though, glaring at the offending finger across the top of his screen.

‘You look like the Joker now.” Changgu explains, his finger clean and stealing back his fries.

* * *

Between the two of them, everyone had thought Changgu would be the one with the major, because he’s the one who’s good at things. Not to say Yanan is incompetent, but while Changgu was class rep from elementary school, striking a balance between refusing to snitch while keeping his classmates in line, Yanan strikes that balance between being disruptively uncomfortable to the point of suspension and innocently awkward--in high school, he told his career counselor that he wanted to be a gynecologist so she would stop pestering him to fill out a Future Plans form. The latter was well known for ditching class up until high school too, and could be found in the canteen playing video games more often than not.

“Not even cool video games.” Middle school Shinwon complains, balancing six triangle kimbap in the crook of his arm. “I was expecting GTA or something. I snuck out of maths to see what he was up to once last year, but he was playing Animal Crossing on a DS.”

“Animal Crossing? That’s still a thing?” Changgu responds, grabbing a salmon roe triangle before it jumps out of Shinwon’s arms as the lanky upperclassmen nods vigorously.

“I swear it was animal crossing, the guy was fishing okay. I’m surprised you don’t know him though, isn’t he in your class?” Shinwon snatches the triangle back from Changgu, only to make three more fall out of his arms. He sighs, cutting the younger off. “Can we sit down?”

Shinwon doesn’t really have anything to say, and neither does Hyunggu who joins them at the sight of Shinwon’s kimbap wealth. “Why are you asking us?”

“I was just curious why he’s never in class.” Changgu shrugs, easing into the lie when Shinwon and Hyunggu take it at face value.

“As expected, future class president Yeo Changgu!” Hyunggu cheers in response, earning a whoop from across the canteen and some scattered cheers.

The actual reason Changgu asks is because he’d caught Yanan digging through his gym class cubby last Friday.

“The are you doing?!” Changgu had screamed, the sight of a gangly upperclassmen with his boxers in one hand and uniform thrown across the other shoulder making him forget where he was.

“Huh?” Latter-to-be-known-as-Yanan had looked up, and nodded when he saw Changgu. “Hi. I’m Yanan.”

“Are you stealing my stuff?” Changgu had continued, flabbergasted when Yanan didn’t set his clothes down, but rather continued to dig through his duffel bag.

“I’m looking for my phone.” Yanan explained.

“I don’t have your phone.” Changgu retorted, stepping forward to rip his clothes off the human coat rack Yanan was turning into and stuff them back into his duffel.

“I took a nap on this bench.” Yanan continues, sitting down, unfazed as Changgu flutters about trying to restore some sense of order. “And I was too lazy to put my phone in my pocket.”

“Okay?”

“But right before blacking out, I remembered that I put my phone somewhere irresponsible. Somewhere not normal.” Yanan turns and grabs at Changgu’s duffel bag when he sees the other about to leave. “Can I finish looking through your bag?”

“I already said that I don’t have your phone.” Changgu sighs, trying and failing to yank the bag out of Yanan’s grip.

“You see, that’s why I’m looking there.” Yanan explains, standing to fish through the side pocket of the duffel. Right when Changgu is about to put his entire 52kg into escaping the madman pulls an iPhone 4 out of the duffel. “There it is!”

“What.”

“Goodnight.” Yanan responds, sliding the phone into the pocket of his track pants before laying down on the locker room bench again.

The phone, encouraged simultaneously by gravity and the smoothness of Yanan’s track pants to slide out of the sixth year’s pocket and onto the ground, where the glass screen cracks with a crisp sound as it hits the tile floor.

Changgu leaves before he can see Yanan’s reaction.

* * *

It’s not that Changgu has never asked Yanan why he chose to study something so… practical, but every time he does he’s brushed off and redirected efficiently. Even with other people, Changgu’s heard Yanan give reasons from “I want to be Chinese Tony Stark” to “It’s time to make a stand against the corporate greed’s hold on democracy.” Maybe he’s just being too direct though.

“We’re getting old.” Changgu leads, groaning when he gets up off the couch to stretch after episode 13, neck cracking far louder than he can fake it when he turns back to look at Yanan.

“Speak for yourself.” Yanan responds. “I’ll always be younger than you at least.”

“Brat.” Changgu snorts. “I’m already having trouble pulling all nighters now. What are we going to do in twenty years.” At that Yanan jolts up, the man who stares despondently at the single step it takes to walk from the street into Starbucks forgotten.

“I’ve thought about this a lot.” Yanan says, elbows resting on his thighs as he leans over with his somber eyebrows on. “In twenty years I’ll be 41, right?”

“This accounting class is really paying off.”

“And when I’m 41, you’ll be 41. And you’ll be some big shot actor but you can’t act in idol dramas anymore, so you’ll star in these daytime soap operas pretending to be 10 years younger with startup actresses pretending to be 10 years older, and when you introduce me to them, they’re going to think I’m their age and still want to me.” Yanan lays out, bringing his hands together so the tips touch as he nods. “Armed with retinoids, plastic surgery, and tikki… tikki punch? Tikka masalas? I will be a intergenerational icon. This is what I will amount to.”

‘He wants to 20 year olds,’ is probably the first thing that should cross Changgu’s mind, but instead he’s picturing what it would be like to work on a set at 40. To not be in an office, but flying around Korea, flying around the world, filming. Meeting people like Kim Soohyun and Yoo Inna, 40 hour days, fan meetings in the States, being broadcast straight to the television in the home of the grandfather he hasn’t seen in seven years.

“I’m honoured.” Changgu laughs. Even as a declared second year theatre major, he half expects himself to have a midlife crisis and switch into some engineering track before graduation. It’s a miracle in itself that it didn’t happen as a first year.

“.” Yanan huffs, sadder than he probably means, and Changgu believes in eye contact but the weight of the other’s gaze is too heavy for now. “If you keep giving up on yourself prematurely, your dad will be out of a job!” Yanan exclaims, heading to the kitchen to grab juice, probably. He believes in the savoury-sweet-savoury-sweet never ending chain of food.

“Um-”

“What about you?” Yanan breezes on, picking up the glass carton of overpriced organic mango nectar his mom got him hooked on as a kid. The boy’s lucky he’s studying what he is; the amount Yanan spends on food per week could probably pay for a nice high rise home in Cheongdamdong.

“I’m going to be like Yoo Ahin.” Changgu responds, staring at the screen capture teaser for episode 15 on the screen. “Yoo Ahin sunbaenim.” He tries out, wrinkling his nose when he trips over the words. “Not traditionally attractive, but talented and successful nevertheless.” Yanan doesn’t respond and sits down on the sofa again, reaching for the bag of garlic crisps on the floor.

“I can’t give an unbiased opinion on the attractive thing.” Yanan muses, barely audible over the crunching of puffed potato. “But your fans probably won’t ever have to see you trying to brush your teeth while hungover and missing for your nostril instead, so-”

“That’s it, let’s go do work with Jinho and the rest of them.” Changgu sighs, unplugging the HDMI cord from Yanan’s laptop amidst complaints and crisps being launched at his neck. “We’re not old to the point where we should sit around all day watching dramas.”

“Oh off with it.” Yanan huffs, clutching his laptop to his chest as he stretches out onto the couch. “You have to carry me up the stairs to Wooseok’s dorm if we go.”

“There are three steps to the entrance.”

“All three of them.”

* * *

It’s not as if the phone incident inspired Changgu to keep in contact with Yanan, so it’s a few weeks before their paths cross again. Considering they’d attended the same school since fourth grade without a single word exchanged, this is relatively soon. Apparently, despite his inability to follow directions, respond to questions asked of him, or attend class while in the school building, Yanan’s height makes most of the sporting team coaches cry potential.

“But he’s not that tall.” Changgu protests when Shinwon touched on how the basketball couch had been after both him and Yanan since fifth year.

“Coming from you…” Shinwon snorts, and Changgu kicks him.

“Yeah, but he can’t be taller than you.”

“He isn’t taller than me, but he is taller than almost everyone else at this school.” Shinwon points out. “He could comfortably use your head as a chin rest. The volleyball and football coaches are after us too.”

“Football? You don’t need to be tall to play football.” Changgu argues.

“Long legs, running faster, the whole shebang.” Shinwon rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to try and convince me Yanan is bad at sports, but he’s tall so the coaches are after him.”

It wasn’t just coaches.

“Changgu!” He hears Seunghee hiss-scream, banging on the window in his classroom during lunch period. Normally he’d be eating by the basketball courts or in the canteen, but he’d forgotten about the maths assignment due in two periods, and was copying Changkyun’s work. “Changgu! Now!”

“What it is.” Changgu groans, finishing the problem before running over to the door frame. She’s hiding her body behind it, just her eyes peering out suspiciously, despite the fact her homeroom is one room over and everyone definitely recognises her. “What do you want?”

“Who’s that.” Seunghee continues hissing, finger jabbing into Changgu’s bicep as she tries to gesture to a student in the back. “The one with the DS. Who’s that?”

“Just the word ‘DS’ brings a sense of foreboding, but when Changgu turns all the way to follow her finger, it’s definitely pointed exactly where he thinks it is.

“Yanan.” Changgu sighs, and he can’t quite remember what expression he was making when he uttered that name, but he remembers how shocked Seunghee had been shocked to see his face morph into such a shape. “What? What do you want with him?”

“Is he in any clubs? Why haven’t I seen him before? You should get him to join theatre.” Seunghee shoves him away for emphasis, before dragging him back by the arm. “He’s so tall… it’s a shame we aren’t doing a romcom.”

“What happened to artistic integrity.” Changgu snides, nearly tripping on a stray foot as she begins dragging him through the desks towards her target.

“I see your integrity and raise you a look at those ing legs.” Seunghee retorts.

They’re unsuccessful, which Changgu doesn’t find surprising considering Yanan hasn’t joined a single class since he moved here in second grade, but Seunghee is still hopeful. Unsurprisingly, Yanan isn’t at their meeting on Thursday or the following Tuesday, but in the middle of a rehearsal that following Thursday there’s a loud thud against the door before it’s yanked open, Yanan leaps in, and then slams it again, cutting off what sounds like Instructor Jung’s cries of “Ball is life!”

“Hi.” Yanan says, every eye in the room on him. He’s breathing heavily, and wiping at his temples with his uniform sleeves.

“Hi Yanan.” Seunghee greets, Cheshire smile breaking on her face. She turns to smirk at Changgu, who looks away just in time to feign apathy.

“I’m Yanan.” Yanan continues. Maybe he got lost on the way to the bathroom, Changgu hopes.

“Welcome to drama club!” Seunghee cheers, to the confusion of the rest of the club.

“Welcome…” Yanan echos sliding down against the door until his hits the ground. He’s new here, Changgu reasons to himself. Maybe he won’t even make the cast. Maybe he’ll be backstage. Setting up would be easier with someone tall.

“Welcome!” Seunghee repeats, “We’re in the middle of rehearsal right now, but Changgu can get you sorted.”

“ing teenage girl hormones.” Changgu mutters, walking over to Yanan.

“Gym guy.” Yanan greets, and Changgu is starting to take it personally that his name hasn’t been deemed important enough to remember.

Changgu goes into this whole mentor-ship experience with unfounded dread and no dearth or annoyance, but they’re only eleven years old, and with an age appropriate neural flexibility relationships change easily.

Yanan is someone who remembers concepts better than facts, meaning his attempts to memorise script have Changgu between actually laughing out loud with his adlibs and collapsing under the stress of failing his protege. Seunghee, with the support of most female club members, wants to give the lead to Yanan, because concepts of artistic integrity and emoting are lost on a lot of self-governing preteens who joined this elective to play dress up and run around without supervision. Changgu half-heartedly helps Yanan run through lines despite wanting the lead role himself, but after a couple of weeks of staying after cram school to watch Yanan trip over the script, he becomes furious.

“I haven’t been home before ten in a week!” Changgu moans, standing up and flinging his ddeokbokki skewer at the ground. “I haven’t seen an episode of Music Bank live in two weeks!” He spins around to glare at Yanan, takes a moment to notice he’s never seen Yanan’s shocked expression before, before grabbing the lapels of his dress shirt. “I am not suffering for you to half this! You are going to get the part even if I have to murder everyone else auditioning!”

“If you acted like this more often, you’d probably get stuck with cleaning duty less.” Yanan notes, buttoning his shirt back up after Changgu’s calmed down.

“I don’t mind cleaning duty.” Changgu responds. “It’s something I should do as class president.” He smiles more when Yanan looks unimpressed.

“You smile too much.” Yanan responds, moving from the chair to the ground so he can lean against a desk leg.

“I have a resting smile.” Changgu concedes.

“But when you get angry you just smile more,” Yanan adds, “and when you get frustrated or lie you do the same thing. You probably smile instead of crying too.”

“Um.” Changgu startles, and wincing when he feels himself smile wider on reflex. “I-”

“But some people are just born to be pushovers.” Yanan smiles back at Changgu, laughing when Changgu’s grin instinctively grows larger for a second before he morphs his lips into a scowl.

Changgu wants to stab him with a pencil.

* * *

Yanan is relatively well known in the business department for that one time he stood up in an upper level consulting course and used an article from Cosmopolitan Korea titled “10 Reasons Going Biual Will Further Your Business Prospects” to argue with the professor’s graphs about how upper level management scandals affected the corporation’s stocks. Story had gotten around, and Yanan has an endearing straght-forwardness punctuated with intentional silences that makes him well received. That straight forwardness is always why he doesn’t interact with the startup minded sector of campus very often, inserting himself amongst Yanan’s theatre folk so well most of the minions Hwitaek adopts don’t realise Yanan isn’t one of them.

Second semester their second year, Yanan had shown up to one of their gaming sessions at Hongseok’s apartment with Senior named Jinho in tow.

Everyone had assumed they would start dating, or that Yanan was at least interested. It wasn’t that Yanan hadn’t introduced them to any of his other friends before, but more along the lines Changgu was pretty sure he didn’t have any other friends. He hadn’t known how to approach Jinho for a while, their conversations lulling after the current humidity levels had been confirmed, but they soon found their music tastes were similar and had even gone to The Weekend’s concert in Seoul together when the band was on a World Tour.

What everyone wasn’t expecting, however, was for Jinho to go through a quarter life crisis during senior year, switch from his accounting track to the performance choir program, and start casually sleeping with Hongseok.

“Did you know?” Changgu had asked, when the two were on their way home from the dinner Hongseok had treated the gang too after Jinho’s announcement.

“It was pretty obvious.” Yanan shrugged. “Their secret signal was one of Jinho hyung’s beanies.”

“What?”

“If Jinho hyung was up for it he’d leave his beanie at Hongseok hyung’s apartment, and then sneak back so they could .” Yanan explained. “They were actually pretty subtle,”

“Yanan I wasn’t talking about that.” Changgu sighed.

“So you don’t want to know how I figured it out?” Yanan retorted, and smiled at Changgu’s petulant grimace and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Jinho hyung probably just told you. You two are always going to those networking parties together.” Changgu huffed.

“Yeah, nothing gets a sc