2.

 

 

---

 

 

 

for there’s something so curious
in the way you hold yourself
all broken glass and stalling gears
a clock urging itself to persevere

 

 

“Park Woojin.” He bites out, venom dripping from his voice. Before anything else can come out of Woojin’s mouth, Jihoon’s lips curl into a subtle, menacing smirk. “Normally when I see someone after a long time I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but I’d rather you fall into the pits of hell.”

 

He sees Woojin’s initial surprise—it’s almost humorous, in a sardonic way—and then watches as his face hardens, mouth quirking in annoyance. Before he can even retaliate, Jihoon adds, “You come here to beg for food because your brain couldn’t get you a high school diploma?”

 

Woojin bites the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes to take a deep breath and Jihoon is quite evidently enjoying it. “Funny, don’t remember you having this much of a sharp tongue.”

 

“Upset that I’m not the pushover I used to be?” Jihoon raises the straw to his lips, eyes never leaving Woojin’s; no way is he going to back down from this. “It was easier for you that way, wasn’t it?”

 

The younger sighs heavily, fingers tapping on the counter, “You really know how to hold a grudge, don’t you..”

 

This sparks a fire in Jihoon’s eyes, teeth gritting and fists clenching, “If you think this is unwarranted then you are a whole new level of absurd.”

 

By now, his breathing has become uneven and his face feels hot, he’s not really sure how to calm himself down. Woojin pinches the bridge of his nose and turns to Seongwoo, who’s watching them in confusion but trying not to look like he’s been eavesdropping the entire time.

 

“You know what, make it to go, I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

 

Seongwoo bags his order and Woojin slide money across the counter, throwing Jihoon one last look (that Jihoon can’t really decipher in the midst of his anger) before walking out of the diner.

 

It takes him six whole minutes to release the tension from his body, slumping in his seat as he feels all of his energy drain out. Why him? Why now? Jihoon did all he could to suppress the indelible memories that tried to claw their way out onto the surface, and Woojin showing up again only served to reopen old wounds.

 

The next few days has Jihoon attempting to take his mind off of Woojin and other things among his past. He becomes less stingy with his hookups, even going so far as to obliging to a spontaneous session in the staircase that a past hookup had pulled him into, in contrast to his usual self who has an issue with being in public. As much as he finds amusement in the fact that everyone was always talking about his activities, he's not particularly thrilled at the thought of eyewitnesses. Donghan tries to ask him if something is wrong, though Jihoon only sustains his usual smile and brushes him off. He knows that Donghan doesn’t believe him, but Jihoon is bent on neglecting the unrelenting pangs in his chest. He needs every distraction he can find, because the second he’s alone with his thoughts the more they gnaw at his heart and he’s not sure how much more damage it can take before it withers away. People don’t want broken; they don’t want to hold a heart laced in despair. No one wants to take on the burden of his fears, his scars. They want a daisy blooming in the spring, no one keeps a dying rose.

 

All he wants to do is severe these looming memories that seem to be aching for closure, the ones that refuse to accept his truth.

 

That he is already okay, he is.

 

He’s okay when cold hands roam his body, in lust and not love. He’s okay when lips press against invisible scars, even if they don’t heal. Gripping, choking, slapping—physical pain doesn’t even compare to emotional torture, not when the latter works from the inside out, consuming him whole.

 

In the end, he knows that every touch means nothing, and every kiss is void of sentiment. But he thinks that it’s okay—all he has to do is pretend they are everything that they are not.

 

It’s deception at its finest but it’s all he thinks he deserves.

 

 

 

 

 

He drowns his pain away in tequila on a Friday night, not too sure when he started but at this point it doesn’t really matter. He just wants to feel numb again; feelings are a nuisance. He’s at some bar he doesn’t even remember the name of, basking in the stares he’s receiving from a group at the far booth.  

 

He’s not even sure why he started to feel this way; he was doing just fine up until now. He’s living without emotional attachment to others, he had made it so there’s no way he could get hurt by anyone again. But for some reason he feels his heart spiraling into a deep abyss—no security and no warmth, only confusion. It’s something he doesn’t really understand. He made an effort to be evasive from intrusive ones, never moving past surface level topics. That’s not what the people who want him wanted. There’s no need to show vulnerability—no reason to divulge or disclose. He doesn’t expect acceptance or understanding anyways, and he doesn’t need it. So the strings tugging at his heart right now is somewhat bewildering. Where is the torment stemming from? Has he gone so low as to pity himself?

 

At some point during the night, Donghan comes rushing into the bar. Jihoon waves weakly at him from his seat, some guy has his hand on his thigh and is breathing a little too close that Jihoon can taste the smoke on his breath, and he hates smokers. He sees the discontent on his best friend’s face as he shoos the guy away from him, but he’s too caught up in trying to subdue his misery that he can’t bring himself to care for the redundant sympathy behind the irritation in Donghan’s eyes, or the fact that he was almost about to sleep with a guy with cigarette breath.

 

“Jihoon, why aren’t you picking up my calls? I had to find out you were here from Yongguk who saw you on someone’s story on snapchat, and mind you it’s a little creepy to be the subject of a zoom in on some stranger’s camera.” 

 

Jihoon simply shrugs, swirling his glass of tequila. People were always going to steal videos of him; they thought he was attractive, isn’t that the good kind of attention? It’s certainly the only time people are paying attention to him.

 

“That’s enough drinking for today, I’m taking you home.”

 

Jihoon protests as Donghan drags him out of the bar, throwing weak punches at his chest but to no avail. Donghan drives them both back home, and drops Jihoon onto his own bed. Jihoon had been living with Donghan since the end of eighth grade, Donghan is like his own brother, which was pleasant for Jihoon since he had been an only child growing up. Donghan’s family were more of a family to him than his own, if he could even call his father his family. He hasn’t seen him in years, and he doesn’t think he ever wants to anymore.

 

“Why were you drinking again? Did something happen?”

 

Jihoon forces out a smile through his slightly drunken state, “Nope, I’m great. Everything is fine!”

 

“Jihoon,” Donghan sighs, and Jihoon knows that he isn’t buying it. He was never really good at hiding his emotions when he was drunk, that’s part of the reason he doesn’t do it often. “I know you’re lying. Will you just.. help me out a little? Why are you falling back into this? You haven’t had a drink in months, and don’t think I didn’t notice you’ve been going around with more people than usual this week. And really? A smoker? You hate smokers.”

 

He stays silent for a while, gaze focused blankly on the wall as his smile slowly disappears from his face. “I saw him last week.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Woojin..” Jihoon sees the recognition in Donghan’s eyes, his best friend’s face noticeably hardening.

 

“Did he bother you? Do I need to hurt someone— “ Jihoon interrupts him with a chuckle, it’s forced and a little too loud to be deceptively genuine.

 

“If you could punch him in the face for me that would be great. Except I’m not sure you’re strong enough to do any actual damage.”

 

Donghan frowns at him, pride clearly marred. “Hey, I bet could hurt someone real bad if I was really angry. I’m not scared of the law.”

 

Jihoon’s face contorts into something that's half confused and half entertained. “You, my friend,” He sticks out a finger to push at Donghan’s forehead, “are an angel trying to disguise himself as a devil. There’s no way.”

 

And it’s true. As much as Donghan tries to come off as all hostile and the embodiment of all things purely evil, he had the biggest heart and a strong need to care for his friends, just without any true intent to resort to violence. After all, most people had their fears of the judicial system and pretty much most authorial figures, even if they tried to make people believe otherwise.

 

“What about Joonyoung? I gave that a run for his money, it’s a surprise no one called the police on me.” The brunette snorts, recalling the boy he used to date in tenth grade. He was everything Jihoon had wanted and thought he didn’t deserve; He treated him like a prince, bringing him flowers every week, being unashamed of holding hands with him in public, and acting like a true gentleman. But everything in his life was always too good to be true, and after he found out Joonyoung had only dated him because he lost a bet and was dared to put up with him for half a year, Jihoon was never sure he’d ever want to be a believer of any of that true love bull that movies had constantly spouted at him. Relationships meant nothing to him, Love is only madness and disaster, and Jihoon has no time to be caught up in that kind of storm.

 

“You just yelled at him and threatened to hit him with a chair, I’d hardly call you a rebel of authority.”

 

Donghan clears his throat awkwardly, changing the subject quickly, “Nevermind, then. But are you okay?”

 

There was never an easy answer to that question, he likes to avoid it most of the time. Jihoon sighs hard, in both exhaustion and dejection. He falls onto his pillow and brings the covers up to his face. “As okay as a person like me will ever be.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Woojin is always three minutes late for his Asian Civilization class, being that there’s a ten-minute gap between this and his other class, which are practically on opposite sides of the campus. As usual, he slips in through the back door and takes a spot in the last row as his professor is already discussing the lecture slides. 

 

Class goes by excruciatingly slow. Woojin mentally kicks himself for giving into the few more minutes of sleep he forced in this morning—depriving him of a caffeine run that could have gotten him through the rest of his class awake at the very least. He groans as he stares at the large coffee on his professor’s desk, that seemed to be flaunting itself in front of him. He almost nods off twice, not even the light emitting from his laptop is enough to keep him fully awake. At one point his finger had gotten stuck on the h button in his half-asleep state and he laughs tiredly to himself as he thinks that ‘hhhhhhhh’ is a very accurate expression of his feelings at the moment.

 

The end of the period is nearing and Woojin does an internal fist pump, thinking she might dismiss the class early since she had exited the lecture slides. But instead, she brings up another tab—some sort of list that he can’t see that clearly from the back of the room.

 

“Now you might remember the survey you did a few days ago, asking you about the various topics taught in this course that you were most interested in. After receiving your results, I have paired you up into partners based on the topics you would prefer, and these will be your groups for the next assignment. You are to each write up a research paper, and then use both of your ideas to create a presentation that you will all have to present at the end of the month. I’ve laid out a pile of articles you may find useful up at the front desk here, so come up and find your name as well as meet and discuss with your partner, and you are free to leave after.”

 

Woojin throws his head back with a sigh. He had always preferred individual work over group assignments, reason being he hated having to pull the weight of the rest of the group when one person didn’t want to show up to meetings or hand in their half of the work. He didn’t like having to put his grades in the hands of strangers. He can only hope that college students would prove him wrong.

 

He slides his laptop back into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, heading down to the front of the lecture room where the rest of the class were crowding around the front desk and sharing awkward greetings with their partners. Woojin starts at the left and scans the piles for his name, only seeing it when he gets past the middle. He doesn’t even bother to look at the other name as he grabs the pile of articles and surveys his topic.

 

“Hey, I think you took my— “ Woojin looks up and makes eye contact with the voice who seemed to have been talking to him, standing agape when they trail off with wide eyes, finger pointed at him.

 

Jihoon stands in a pink jumper, gawking at him. His expression quickly turns into that of pure discontent, a look that Woojin is all too used to. “Why are you here?” Jihoon spits out indignantly, as if he never in a million years could picture Woojin actually doing something with his life besides being a failure, let alone be in his history class. He does a delayed double take when he realizes that this is Jihoon, and he’s in his history class. And he’s his partner.

 

Realization must have dawned on Jihoon too, because he’s groaning, chewing on his bottom lip so hard that Woojin thinks he might start to bleed. “Of all ing people..“

 

At first, Woojin thought he could get through this assignment painlessly, just as long as whoever he was partnered up with did their work and showed up to meetings. But fate takes a whole new sadistic form in his professor, or whatever generator she might have used that hated him enough to put him and Jihoon together. The sneer that graces his lips is automatic when he sees the older roll his eyes, “It’s not like I’m happy about this either.”

 

“That’s interesting, I thought you’d love the chance to be alone with me. Are you gonna make fun of me again? Shove me to the ground because you can’t accept who I am? Where are your followers now?”

 

Woojin feels a tightness in his chest, an annoying pounding in his head. He grabs Jihoon by the elbow (he doesn’t miss the fact that the older flinches at that, so Woojin keeps his grip soft) and pulls them out of the classroom and away from the stares of the group of girls behind them.  

 

“You planning on shoving me into a locker or—“

 

“Jihoon!” Said boy jerks his arm out of his hold, like Woojin had been a fire that burnt his skin. Woojin runs a hand through his hair, letting out a strong exhale, “I know, you hate me, okay? But this is college, and we need to do well so I suggest you tone it down with the angry fussing.”

 

Jihoon’s face hardens, crossing his arms and sticking his chin out, “Fine. But if you get out of line I’m ruining this project for the both of us.”

 

 He makes a disapproving noise at that, “That’s not a very smart thing to do, is it?”

 

“You would know what bad decisions are, wouldn’t you?” Jihoon taunts, eyes filled to the brim with vexation, “You’ve made a lot of those.”

 

Woojin tries to suppress his rapidly growing impatience, refusing to rise to his bait, “Just— just give me your phone, will you?”

 

The older brings his phone to his chest protectively, frowning, “Why?”

 

“Well we’re gonna need some way of communicating.”

 

They exchange numbers grudgingly, and Woojin tries not to fidget under Jihoon’s piercing glare. The older walks away quickly and Woojin leans back onto the wall behind him, feeling exhausted from the interaction.

 

It’s not a stretch to say that Woojin is absolutely dreading Jihoon’s reappearance. And it’s not even out of hate for Jihoon, it’s out of hate for himself. Woojin had really thought he was getting better at accepting that his past was his past and moving on from it, turning his life around. He thought he had come a long way.

 

But he’ll never be able to forgive himself until Jihoon does.

 

Because for as long as Jihoon hates him, the city streets he walks that used to comfort him, will only be a painful reminder of his former self. The school that gave him hope will only exude resentment, repulsion, loathing. All because the boy from his past that he had destroyed, has come back to destroy him.

 

 

 

 

 

Today is one of the rare days that Woojin doesn’t have any work to drown in, so he uses his free time as a chance to catch up on his shows and make conversation with his internet friend. They had been messaging casually once in a while, and Woojin found the other quite amusing, despite some of his blunt implications of . Today, however, seemed to be void of any.

 

 

 

chamsaes : so hows school been treating ya

 

winkly : terribly ;; I have a paper due soon 

 

winkly : I could be out right now ugH

 

chamsaes : lol for you

 

chamsaes : im homework free for the day

 

winkly : luckyyy D:<

 

winkly : hey

 

winkly : how much do I have to pay u to write my paper??

 

chamsaes : I don't even take environmental studies

 

winkly : im sure u could figure it out with google…

 

chamsaes : nope sorry you’re on your own *jazz hands *

 

winkly : ok u need to stop with the jazz hands

 

winkly : u don’t even use it in the proper contexts

 

chamsaes : it’s your fault in the first place

 

winkly : admittedly one of my weaker moments

 

chamsaes : ooh must be a long list

 

winkly : s HUT UP

 

winkly : anyways

 

winkly : when r u gonna give me hints abt who u are

 

chamsaes : never

 

winkly : w o w

 

winkly : and why is that???

 

chamsaes : lmao if you met me irl you’d probably cancel this friendship

 

chamsaes : I can’t last 2 seconds in social situations

 

winkly : hey im not that mean I wouldn't ditch u just cause u at conversing

 

winkly : that's what im here for

 

winkly : to help u

 

chamsaes : well I hope u like mystery bc im gonna continue to be one

 

winkly : hmmm are you giving me permission to solve you? ;))

 

chamsaes : i—

 

chamsaes : I don't even know what you mean by that

 

winkly : im kidding smh it doesn't meaning anything

 

winkly : anyways

 

winkly : ur very intriguing I like it

 

winkly : an insatiable curiosity has just roused inside of me

 

chamsaes : alright just extra

 

winkly : lmao

 

winkly : I just wanna know who u are D:

 

chamsaes : maybe one day, in the very,, very distant future

 

chamsaes : now go do your homework

 

winkly : alright moM

 

chamsaes : im not your mom smh

 

winkly : then don't tell me wHAT TO DO

 

chamsaes : go

 

chamsaes : do

 

chamsaes : your

 

chamsaes : work

 

winkly : yenno what

 

winkly : I don’t even have to meet u irl

 

winkly : im gonna cancel this friendship right now

 

chamsaes : fine with me winkloser

 

winkly : that

 

winkly : was a horrible comeback

 

chamsaes : you know what else is horrible

 

chamsaes : your future grades

 

winkly : touché

 

 

 

If Woojin thinks he can spend the day peacefully and quietly in the confines of his own room, he’s immediately proven wrong as his door bursts open (why didn’t he ever learn to lock it?) and Daehwi rushes in, followed by Youngmin and Donghyun. And Daehwi looks furious.

 

“Woojin, help! They’re trying to ruin my life!” He groans as he presses pause on his laptop and sets it aside, giving Daehwi an exasperated look signalling him to continue despite the protests they both know he’s having in his head. “I swear to God, no one in this group understands the meaning of ‘subtle’. Subtlety is not yelling ‘Hey Jinyoung! Daehwi wants to talk to you!’ and then running away! That’s not what friendship is either!”

 

“Actually, that’s exactly what friendship is.” Youngmin points out from behind him and Donghyun nods along in agreement, it’s so uncharacteristic that Woojin notices immediately, lifting a questioning brow at the latter.

 

“Donghyun was in on this? Why did you stop me from blackmailing him if you were eventually jump aboard the matchmaking train?”

 

“As much as I want to be a good mother to Daehwi, a good mother also knows when it’s time to ‘fess up and admit your feelings! Or at least try to talk to him.” 

 

Daehwi lets out a loud wail and falls onto the bed, crawling into the corner and pulling the covers off of Woojin and over him. “Not even Donghyun is on my side!”

 

Woojin shifts on his bed, moving to sit against the headboard so the other two of the group could sit down on the end. “So what happened?”

 

The youngest springs back up from his spot, scooting over to sit beside Woojin and pointing an accusing finger at Youngmin and Donghyun. “They left me to fend for myself!” The blonde splutters angrily, and Youngmin all but smiles at his glare. “I was a stuttering mess again and now Jinyoung probably thinks I’m weird.”

 

 

 

 

 

Daehwi had been walking across campus after his last class of the day, ready to treat himself to a boba tea at a shop across the Agriculture building. He was admittedly quite terrible with his self-control when it came to the drink, Donghyun had always told him to buy it in moderation, and only when he really deserved it. He figured the end of his quiz today signified a well-deserved taro boba tea. His steps became lighter as the shop came into sight, making his way across the street.

 

He relished in the sweet scent of the store with a smile on his face, it was sort of his safe haven. He went here during his free time throughout high school, and at one point he even thought that he had spent more time in the store than he did it his own house. But there was just something pleasant about the ambience of the whole place, the pastels were soothing and charming, the lighting was the perfect amount of dimmed. Everything about the place was somehow able to make him feel content the moment he walked into it.

 

Daehwi moved to stand in line and looked over the store, stopping when his eyes landed on two familiar faces.

 

Donghyun and Youngmin were seated at one of the tables, unbeknownst to his presence in the store. He stayed in line, figuring he’d say hi to them later. But a minute later the two come striding up to him. “Hey Daehwi, are you done for the day?”

 

“Yeah, I just finished a quiz so I’m treating myself.” Donghyun smiled, ruffling the younger’s hair. The interaction wasn’t all too bad, until the door chimed and in walked Bae Jinyoung, right up behind them in line. Daehwi’s eyes widened as he watched Youngmin take in the sight, heart racing at the small tug of the corners of his lips. This was not going to go well for him.

 

“Oh, Jinyoung! Daehwi here was just saying he wanted to talk to you!” Daehwi’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as Youngmin throws a wicked side glance at him before grabbing Donghyun’s hand and walking out of the store. His eyes fell to Jinyoung, who was looking at him curiously.

 

“You did?”

 

Daehwi opened his mouth to say something, though it takes him about a minute to actually force anything out. “Uhhhh, y-yeah. You’re.. you’re in my bio class!” The light went off in his head as he remembered there was a way out of this mess without sounding like he was a loser with a big crush and no confidence to do anything about it. “And I was wondering if you had the notes from yesterday’s class. I had an appointment so I missed it.”

 

He prided himself in being able to make it through the latter half of his request without stumbling. Jinyoung nodded in understanding, . “Oh, well maybe you could give me your number and I can send it to you. I have my notes in google docs.”

 

He felt dizzy as he looked down at the phone Jinyoung was holding out for him. He was asking for his number. Albeit not exactly for the reason he wanted it to be, but he was asking for it nonetheless. Daehwi had almost forgotten his number because Jinyoung was looking at him with a smile and he had been feeling weak in the knees.

 

“There you go.” Daehwi had tried to say with a smile but it may have come off as more uncomfortable than it was a genuinely happy one. Jinyoung hadn’t shown that to be the case though, because he returns it genuinely.

 

“Cool, I’ll send it to you later.”

 

“Yeah..” Daehwi let out breathlessly before turning around and never forgetting for the entire duration he was in line that Bae Jinyoung was behind him.

 

 

He was thankful he didn’t stumble over his order at the register this time.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You got his number, I don’t see what the problem is?”

 

Daehwi pulls out his phone to show Woojin a text from Jinyoung, that had said ‘so what’s up?’ after he sent the notes and Daehwi thanked him for it. “This! This is the problem!” The blonde slides back under the covers and wails, deliberately exaggerating his dismay. “I don’t know how to talk to him! How do you make casual conversation with your crush? Is that a thing people are able to do? Is it even possible to do it without immediately ruining your chances because you’re just so terrible at texting that they don’t even want to be your friend?!”

 

“Daehwi, I’m pretty sure you’re good at texting, you have words for days. Like literally, days. I can’t get you to shut up.” The younger glares at him but Woojin ignores the look and pats his back reassuringly, “I don’t know why you can’t treat this like you’re just talking to any one of us.”

 

“It's not that easy, okay! Not everyone can be like you and your online boyfriend!”

 

“Whoa,” Youngmin’s eyes widen, “Online boyfriend? What the hell, Woojin why didn’t you tell us?”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Woojin protests, ears getting red at the accusation. “We just talk occasionally. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

 

“Then why are you two so flirty?” He shoots daggers at the younger, this is supposed to be his rant night but somehow he’s managed to turn it on Woojin.

 

“Do you read my messages?”

 

“I mean, one time you left your phone open on your chat with him in front of me and I wasn’t just gonna not look at it..” Woojin throws him a sour look, grabbing his phone to change his password immediately since Daehwi had managed to figure out his current one. “You’re gonna have to make sure you stay sober because if you change your password I can’t set alarms up for you.”

 

“Who’s fault was it that I got drunk in the first place?!”

 

Daehwi looks at him incredulously, wholly and obviously offended by the accusation. “I didn’t force you to drink! I just brought you there!”

 

‘Yeah and then you left me, knowing I’m terrible at turning people down!”

 

“Okay, okay, stop the fighting.” Donghyun breaks it up, Daehwi’s head comfortingly. The room goes quiet for a bit and Woojin can’t hide the irritation that appears on his face at the sudden thought of a certain brunette. Donghyun turns to face him, “Are you good? You seem a little irritated today.”

 

Woojin falls back against his headboard, his eyes shutting closed. “We have a partnered assignment in history that’s going to last for like three weeks and I’m a hundred and ten percent sure my partner hates my guts and won’t be of much help.”

 

“Who is it?” Daehwi perks up, taking interest in the conversation.  

 

“Park Jihoon.” Woojin cracks a curious eye open at the small gasp that leaves Daehwi’s mouth.

 

“Oh, I know him! Well, not personally but my friends told me that’s he got quite the reputation from high school.” Daehwi looks a little too excited to have gossip to share, and normally Woojin wouldn’t really care much to indulge in other people’s lives, but he’s a little curious as to what kind of reputation Park Jihoon would have. “Apparently, he sleeps around, like a lot. He’s always looking for a new hookup every week, people see him with a different guy all of the time in the dorm halls, being pulled into their rooms.”

 

Had he not known Jihoon before the revelation, he wouldn’t have been that shocked. But Woojin is rendered speechless at the newly required information. Park Jihoon had a hookup reputation? Park Jihoon, the kid who was constantly picked on in middle school? That Park Jihoon?

 

He ends up concluding that the Jihoon he once knew wasn’t even the slightest bit of indication of the new one, and soon enough he’s probably going to be in for the biggest karma of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

Woojin doesn’t hear the end of Daehwi’s complaints about Youngmin and Donghyun. Their group chat had blown up while he had taken his hour long nap and he‘s puzzled as to why he’s curious enough to backtrack through almost 500 messages. Most of it had been stories that Woojin had already heard, most of which had happened in his presence. Like the one time Daehwi had walked into a door while staring (creepily, as woojin insisted) at Jinyoung from afar.

 

He jumps into the conversation once he finally reaches the end of the messages.

 

 

 

woojin : what the fuc k

 

woojin : why did I wake up to 500 messages y’all are wild

 

daehwi : I HAVE A LOT OF ANGER INSIDE OF ME TODAY

 

woojin : clearly

 

youngmin : he was recalling all of the moments Jinyoung looked at him for more than a second

 

donghyun : actually there was one story where he glanced at him for like 0.00005 seconds but he read too much into it anyways

 

woojin : lmao delusional

 

daehwi : I hate u all

 

daehwi : ://////////

 

daehwi : And WE NEED TO GIVE HIM A CODENAME

 

youngmin : why?

 

daehwi : BECAUSE I WANT TO DIE EVERY TIME I READ HIS NAME

 

daehwi : ALSO IM PARANOID

 

daehwi : WHAT IF HE’S BEHIND ME IN LINE ONE DAY

 

daehwi : AND SEES HIS NAME IN OUR CONVO

 

daehwi : HOW DO I EXPLAIN MYSELF THEN HUH?????

 

woojin : I doubt hes gonna be looking at your screen

 

woojin : unless he’s /that/ kind of intrusive person

 

woojin : oh hey then you would be a perfect match

 

daehwi : ://///

 

daehwi : at least me having ur password was useful when u were drUNK

 

daehwi : UN G RATEFUL

 

donghyun : okay well what do you wanna call him?

 

daehwi : idk u guys figure it out

 

woojin : why us smh he’s your man

 

daehwi : NJFDKGH

 

daehwi : HE’S NOT MY MAN

 

daehwi : ICB

 

woojin : you’re blushing aren’t you

 

daehwi : NO

 

daehwi : MOST DEFINITELY NOT

 

daehwi : U DON'T HAVE ANY PROOF

 

daehwi : Anyways GIVE ME CODENAMES KFDJH

 

youngmin : sriracha

 

daehwi : wth why

 

woojin : bc you think he’s hot

 

daehwi : OH MY GODDDD

 

daehwi : NO 

 

daehwi : I am Embarrassed

 

woojin : why he’s not even gonna know the codename

 

daehwi : still embarrassing!!!!

 

youngmin : soy sauce

 

woojin : sweet and sour

 

youngmin : barbeque

 

woojin : marinara

 

youngmin : honey dill

 

woojin: mayonnaise

youngmin : tartar

 

woojin : gravy

 

youngmin : nice

 

daehwi : will u two,,,,

 

daehwi : shUT UP with the goddamn sauces

 

youngmin : spongebob

 

woojin : squarepants

 

youngmin : squidward

 

woojin : tentacles

 

youngmi n: krabs

 

woojin : eugene

 

daehwi : WHY ARE U ALL SO USELESS

 

woojin : wtf

 

woojin : im offended

 

daehwi : LITERALLY NO ONE CARES

 

donghyun : okay enough about sauces lol

 

donghyun : daehwi

 

donghyun : name things that remind you of him

 

donghyun : maybe we can use one of those

 

daehwi : ummmmmmm

 

daehwi : I always saw him walking around with a mango smoothie in high school

 

daehwi : I think he likes mangos

 

woojin : an intellectual

 

youngmin : ur gonna ignore our sauce suggestions but ur gonna go with mango???

 

daehwi : it’s better than fricking sweet and sour binch

 

youngmin : that wasn’t even my suggestion

 

daehwi : like urs were any better

 

youngmin : I’ll have u know I won first place in a naming contest

 

daehwi : that's

 

daehwi : not a thing

 

youngmin : but if it was I would win it

 

woojin : ^^^

 

daehwi : mom can we disown them

 

donghyun : im way ahead of you

 

youngmin : HEY

 

woojin : HEY (2)

 

youngmin : YOU YOU

 

woojin : I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND

 

daehwi : no

 

youngmin : WAY

 

daehwi : no

 

woojin : WAY

 

daehwi : N O

 

donghyun : anywaysssssss

 

donghyun : let’s just go with mango

 

daehwi : okayyy

 

woojin : so hows jinyoung

 

daehwi : NFDJLGH

 

daehwi : The CODE! NAME!

 

woojin : jinyoung

 

woojin : jiiiinnnnyyyoouuuunnng

 

woojin : *daehwi voice * bae jinyoung! bae jinyoung!

 

daehwi : OMF I WANT TO DIEEEEEEE

 

daehwi : STOP IT IM GONNA HURT U

 

woojin : bae to the jin to the young

 

woojin : LEE DAEHWI LOVES BAE JINYOUNG

 

donghyun : um,

 

donghyun : should we go check to make sure he didn’t pass out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come Monday, Woojin feels a little awkward to contact Jihoon after Daehwi had spilled what he knew about how he’d grown up over the years. It’s almost as if he’s a different person entirely. But he also isn’t, at least not by the standards of his judgment, because it’s been years since Woojin last saw Jihoon—of course he was bound to have changed, to have grown up. It's just a bit baffling that he had turned out to be so.. promiscuous. And he doesn’t like to judge, at least not anymore—but he wonders why Jihoon had ended up like that.

 

He had just finished dance practice, feeling every kind of disgusting as sweat drips down the side of his face. Practice had been cut short due to many absences, to which Taehyun—the leader of their dance team—had been more than slightly displeased about. The people who had actually shown up to practice that day unjustly had to suffer through his vigorous warmup and snappy attitude whenever someone so much as stepped a centimeter out of formation. His temper seemed to have calm down a little when Sungwoon ventured in with his bright smile, and Woojin is able to connect the dots for that situation.

 

After taking a cold shower and about fifteen minutes spent contemplating possible greeting messages and whether or not to hit send, he finally texts the older boy.

 

 

(5:23) woojin : what’s our plan

 

(5:25) jihoon : im thinking I could drop kick u in the neck

 

(526) woojin : okay, what’s our /actual/ plan

 

(5:27) jihoon : ugh I don't know where do u wanna meet

 

(5:27) woojin : we could work in my dorm room?

 

(5:27) woojin : I have a single and I like it better when im not around people

 

(5:28) jihoon hmm the kid who threw anything away to have friends in middle school hates being around people

 

(5:28) woojin : let’s not get into this right now

 

(5:28) woojin : so are you coming over or not

 

(5:29) jihoon : fine, text me ur dorm room I’ll be there in like half an hour

 

(5:29) woojin : why half an hour

 

(5:30) jihoon : I have some things to attend to

 

(5:31) woojin : that's,, disgusting. let’s just reschedule

 

(5:31) jihoon : stop being a baby

 

(5:32) woojin : you’re ing lucky I have febreze

 

 

 

 

Jihoon shows up some time after six, hair slightly and suspiciously disheveled, and Woojin’s mind immediately goes there. Woojin looks at him with obvious repulsion marring his features while spraying febreze right into his face as he’s walking in.

 

Jihoon coughs at the sudden attack, waving a hand in front of his face to get rid of the mist. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“And you’re disgusting.” Woojin says matter-of-factly, eyes narrowing at the older boy.

 

“For your information, I wasn’t even doing what you think I was doing. I was out doing errands with Donghan. So the fact that your mind went there is entire your fault, not mine.” Jihoon smirks at the falter in Woojin’s face when he realizes that he did in fact jumped to a conclusion right away. But can he blame him? Practically everyone in their year knew about his high school reputation, it isn’t a far stretch that his mind had ventured into that territory.

 

“Whatever.” He sneers, veering back into his room to avoid any further embarrassment of himself. Jihoon follows, casually throwing himself onto the armchair opposite the bed. Woojin tosses a stack of papers on the table in front of him. “Here are the articles, we can both look through them and jot down any relevant information. I’ll take this half and you take those.”

 

Jihoon wordlessly takes out his laptop from his bag, grabbing at his stack of articles on the table and busying himself in reading. Woojin is thankful that he doesn’t seem to plan on talking to him much; he doesn’t really know what he should be saying to him. What kind of small talk do you make with the kid you used to bully in middle school?

 

They continue to work in silence for the most part. Woojin seems to finish first, and he lets his head fall back onto his headboard, letting the background noises amidst their silence consume him, mind focused on the whistling of the wind and the crunching of the leaves under footsteps outside his window. Autumn has always been his favorite season. There’s something about the sounds of the leaves against the grass, the chill of the air that isn’t morbidly cold, the warmth of his favorite Starbucks drink. Even music somehow managed to sound better depending on the season—it’s mystifying yet convincing.

 

After his ten minute break, Woojin gets up to check on Jihoon’s progress, only to find him typing away at a different device. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the boy had switched to using his phone, but he clearly isn’t doing anything history related at the moment.

 

“Did you even do any work?” Woojin snaps at him, moving to sneak a peek at his laptop screen only to find a single page of typed up information, in contrast to his own five pages. “Are you kidding me? I’ve done five times the work you’ve done and history is my worst subject. Maybe you should get off your phone and start contributing to this group.”

 

“That’s all I could find.” Jihoon barely sends a glance his way, eyes intent on his phone screen. Woojin sighs and grabs the untouched articles from Jihoon’s pile, moving back to his own laptop to do his part of the work.

 

After gathering most of their information, Woojin slides his laptop across the table to face Jihoon. “Take my notes down. I’d make you do the work on your own but I don’t want to waste any more time on this.”

 

Jihoon furrows his eyebrows as he looks up from his screen, but sits up to put his phone down and slides Woojin’s laptop closer to him. Woojin watches as he scans his notes, not quite able to deduce the meaning of look on his face. “Were you half asleep while writing these? You have some of the dates on these events mixed up.”

 

Woojin can only stares at the boy incredulously, face hot and pinched with resentment. After making him do all of the work, he had the nerve to try and correct him? “You made me do all of the work and you’re trying to get mad at me for making a mistake?”

 

“Well I wouldn’t have to get mad if you knew your stuff.” Woojin can feel Jihoon’s gratification in his seething, and it only makes him even more mad.

 

“If you’re such a know-it-all then maybe you should start being useful and get done.” He grits out through his clenched teeth, standing up and walking towards the bathroom, slamming the door closed and splashing his face with water. Never in the last few years had he felt so utterly frustrated. Maybe it became easy for Jihoon to manipulate people in high school, but Woojin isn’t courteous enough to deal with it.

 

He takes a few minutes to calm himself down, remind himself that this is a business relationship. Strictly work and nothing else, no need to bring personal feelings into it. Jihoon is simply a classmate that he needs to work on a project with and he can’t let his disgruntlement hinder their chances of getting a good grade. History is his worst subject, which means he needs to work ten times harder to get the results he wants, and he’s not going to let Park Jihoon ruin that for him.

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

the sight of blood
and acid words
is all I’ll ever see
and all you’ll ever be

 

 

 

There’s only so much of Woojin’s face he can handle seeing so often until the painful memories start to resurface and preoccupy his mind every second of every day. Jihoon had been frequenting Woojin’s dorm in order to work on their research paper and presentation, and being in a small room with him and having Woojin be the only face he sees for hours on end is starting to take a toll on his (partial) stability. He’s tried to make their meetings as indifferent as possible, with some minor quarrelling that had mostly sparked from his inability to hold back from making a snarky comment whenever Woojin tried to act polite. And though he does notice the lack of insults Woojin has thrown at him since they’ve been working together, something in the back of his mind can’t help but be suspicious. Is he just trying to be modest for his grades? Will he eventually go back to picking on him when he no longer needs Jihoon’s help to sustain a decent mark in what is supposedly his worst subject?

 

Jihoon can’t seem to put a finger on why Woojin seems so.. different. He doubts Woojin is genuinely mannered and civil (when he’s not being riled up by Jihoon, that is). Woojin was basically the incarnation of the devil to him when he was twelve, had he really shaped up to be righteous person? It seems highly unlikely to him.

 

Jihoon can’t even remember why Woojin had started to pick on him in the first place. They had always gone to the same elementary school together, and it’s not like they were complete strangers up until the eighth grade. So why was it that he had changed his attitude towards him completely after making friends with some new kids that showed up at their school for the last year of middle school? Back then, despite not knowing him very well, Jihoon had never pictured Woojin to be one to lead, especially not a group of delinquents. He always held him to be someone to follow if ever, but never one to primarily antagonize someone. He guesses that’s why he always saw on television shows to never trust people. Humans were complex beings and you never know what they could be capable of, even the people who seem like they could have the best of intentions.

 

In fact, back in sixth grade, Jihoon had sort of admired Woojin. He looked like he was a good basketball player, and Jihoon was surprised when he didn’t try out for the team that year. Maybe it was just a hobby to him and not what he wanted to indulge in competitively. Jihoon had never felt like he had any talents, he was quite a boring kid with not much friends. And though the two had never exchanged words, Jihoon had saw him around the school all of the time.

 

Everything he had thought to be true about the boy had changed when they started eighth grade. There were a lot of new students that transferred to their school that year, Jihoon had even felt bad for them at the beginning, thinking about how hard it might have been to have to go to a new school for the last year of middle school. He regretted ever caring for any of them, because a month into the school year, rumors had started to spread around about him. He wasn’t even sure why he was a target of talk among the grade, he was always in the background, no one really knew him except for the two girls he occasionally talked to. One day someone had come up to him and called him a word he had never heard before.

 

“What are you looking at, ?”

 

It was the first time he had heard that word, but from the laughter that came from behind the kid, he knew it wasn’t meant to be nice. He never found it in him to ask anyone about it, so he ignored them thinking they would leave him alone the next day. But all throughout the year, a multitude of words he hadn’t even heard of before were being thrown at him. Eventually, he was being pushed and shoved to the ground by the boys in his grade. More often than not, he would go home with bruises and cuts on his legs and arms. At one point he stopped wearing shorts completely, covering himself up in jeans and long sleeves; he didn’t want anyone to see the marks, especially his father.

 

He was always a little terrified of his father, he never smiled and was always absorbed in his work in his office. His mother hadn’t been around ever since he was seven, and he had never felt more alone than he did that year.

 

One day he had went to school and found himself pushed down onto the cement, hands scraped and bleeding. When he looked up, he hadn’t expected to see who he saw. There was Woojin, the kid he had once admired, looking down at him with a bunch of other boys laughing behind him.

 

“That’s what you get for looking at him, you homo.”

 

“Yeah, did you actually think he’d ever like you?”

 

He had never allowed himself to cry at school, he wanted to be stronger than that. So when tears sprung in his eyes as the laughter of the boys got louder, he ran to the park across the street and sat with his head in his arms underneath the slide, wiping away his tears.

 

He had always felt different from the others in his class; everyone he knew only ever crushed on someone of the opposite gender. So it was confusing to him why he never felt any attraction to girls. Eventually he realized that he was interested in boys. He was beyond confused as to why it seemed to be the reason that people were so cruel to him. And then one night while he was watching a show on the television, it hit him; he wasn’t normal in their minds. He was different; they had seen him as atypical—unnatural. That's why everyone hated him. And that’s why Woojin hated him, because he thought that he had a crush on him.

 

He had never felt so disappointed in someone in his entire life.

 

The days continued to get worse; Somewhere down the road he thought about denying it, hiding his own identity for the sake of being safe. But the longer he dwelled on it, the more that he thought that if anything, it was everyone else who was wrong. It didn’t stop him from being scared, however—at one point he started to fake being sick in order to avoid having to go school. His father had only let him miss school once, before he was forced to go back again. Jihoon never went outside for recess anymore. He stayed in his classroom and buried himself in his notebook—writing had always calmed him. It gave him a voice, one that he wasn’t used to having in his environment. He could be free on paper; he could be himself. But as much as he was proud of his work, at the end of the day, no one would be there to applaud it. His stories would stay forever in the confines of his notebook, never to see the light of day.

 

On a Friday, their grade was setting up for Culture Night; everyone having prepared performances, food, and songs for their all of their families to enjoy. Jihoon hadn’t expected his father to come, but when he got home that afternoon he had been surprised when his father had come into his room and told him they were going to the school for Culture Night. They had never really spoken much—not even at dinner, so Jihoon felt awkward as he took his father around to show him the various things he had set up for the night, not sure whether or not he was feeling proud of any of it or even expect his father to care. All he could think of for most of the duration of the night was bumping into the boys that made fun of him, especially now that his dad was with him. He knew that something was bound to slip up if that ever happened. And how would his dad react to him when he found out that he was different? Would he hate him just like everyone else? Were parents allowed to hate their children?

 

He had figured it out all too soon, and that’s when his world had crashed down on him. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't wrong as he watched Woojin and his group of boys stomp up to him and his dad. He had no idea how twelve year olds could be so ruthless.

 

“Mister, I really don’t know how you could even look at your own son in the face knowing what kind of person he is.”

 

“Excuse me?” His father had raised an eyebrow at the boys glaring wickedly at Jihoon.

 

Jihoon watched as a boy nudged Woojin with his elbow, but not even his knowledge of Woojin hating him could prepare him for what he had decided to do. He hadn’t heard spite in his voice, not even an ounce of emotion—the most starking contrast to him. “Your son, he’s gay.”

 

Everything was a blur as his watched his father turn to him with wide-eyes, as the boys snickered and walked away. With a sense of foreboding, he let his father drag him out of the school building by the wrist and prepared himself for imminent disaster.

 

“What are those boys talking about?” His father questioned, voice dark and chilling. He had never felt so scared of his father like he had then. “Answer me, Jihoon!”

 

Jihoon winced, his heart already on the ground. He stayed quiet, eyes never leaving the ground. His father’s pierced the air again, “Is what they said true? Are you gay?”

 

His voice wouldn’t come out, tears sprung at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t prepared for what would happen next. Jihoon felt a hand come down at the top of his head, harsh and strong. And at that, all of the tears all fell. “Are you?!”

 

With a heavy heart, he nodded slowly. He was afraid to look up but he could see his father pacing around in front of him, in clear frustration. After a minute he finally lifted his head to look up at him, and he had never felt so broken. “Don’t even think about coming home until you’ve gotten over this phase.”

 

He watched emptily as his father walked away from him, not a single glance was spared his way. He wasn’t going to look back, he wasn’t going to regret saying that and bring him back home.

 

 

He really meant it when he said he didn’t want him to come back home.

 

 

Jihoon ended up walking the streets the rest of the night, not knowing entirely where he was going. He felt numb, blinded by tears and unable to think straight. It was all a muddy sight to him as he found himself on the ground, just inches away from the bumper of a car. He let himself sit there, making no move to get up.

 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A boy who seemed to be around his age had gotten out of the car and ran up to him, checking for any signs of injury.

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you walking there! What were you doing walking without looking where you were going?” An older man came up to him, all confused hands and not quite sure what to do. “We should call your parents; do you have a phone?”

 

Jihoon shook his head apathetically, eyes still focused on the same patch of ground in front of him.

 

“Well do you know your home phone number? I’ll call them for you. Donghan, pass me your phone.”

 

“I don’t—“ Jihoon swallowed down the lump in his throat, “I don’t.. have one. A home.” The two of them had exchanged glances, but said no more as they steadied Jihoon onto his feet and ushered him into their car. They had asked him a few more questions, but gave up when Jihoon stayed mute. They had taken them back to their house, fed him, and let him sleep there for the night. He didn’t know what he was going to do when morning came, he was just grateful that he was going to be able to sleep in a bed that night.

 

 

He didn’t go home the morning after. Or the morning after that.

 

 

 

 

 

Jihoon tries not to look at Woojin whenever they’re in his room. He rarely lets his eyes wander from his laptop screen; it’s amazing how much progress he can get done when he’s so intent on avoiding someone he’s alone in the same room with. Though halfway through the night he ends up focusing fixedly on his screen, only pretending to be concentrated on his work. Meetings had started to become quiet save for some brief moments of bickering, and it’s both enjoyable and unsettling. It’s an unaccustomed neutral (for the most part) vibe that’s somehow foreboding, it almost feels like the calm before the storm.

 

He just didn’t think he’d be the one to start it.  

 

Jihoon is faintly aware of the glances Woojin has been sneaking at him for the past twenty minutes. It bothers him more than he expects it to and for some reason, he can’t find it in himself to simply overlook it.

 

“It’s a little shocking, how you haven’t thrown a homophobic comment at me yet.” Jihoon says out of nowhere without thinking; his dream last night had put him in a terrible mood the entire day and Woojin seemed like the most feasible person to let his anger out on, given he was the true antagonist of his nightmare. He tries to convince himself that Woojin deserves it.

 

Jihoon gaze flits from his laptop to the boy in front of him, who can’t keep the look of alarm off of his face. “What?”

 

“You know,” He continues nonchalantly, looking Woojin dead in the eyes, “, homo, all of the things you used to call me.”

 

He watches Woojin shift uncomfortably, visibly rattled by the memory. It takes him some time to reply, his voice comes out quiet, “I don’t do that anymore.”

 

“I wonder who else’s lives you’ve made miserable over the years. I feel sorry for the people who had to deal with you at your new school.”

 

Woojin shuts his laptop closed almost angrily, placing it behind him on his bed and getting up to his refrigerator to grab a water bottle. The room is filled with a noticeable atmosphere of pack your things and leave already that’s also evidently soaking with an undertone of I don’t want to listen to this. “I told you, I’m not like that anymore.”

 

Jihoon scoffs as Woojin downs half of his water, is he trying to say that he’s done nothing wrong just because he might have stopped picking on people? Jihoon refuses to listen to his excuses.

 

“That’s rich, but you’ll always be that person. Don’t ever forget that you outed me to my own father.”

 

“I’m not proud of that! Okay?” Woojin voice rises, the bottle in his hand starts to crumple. He tries to speak again but Jihoon doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.  

 

“I lost my family because of you!” He exclaims, face lit with bitterness. All attempts at being calm and collected are thrown out the window. Woojin’s face contorts in surprise, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

 

“I— what?”

 

The confusion in his voice makes Jihoon livid, he doesn’t even try to mask his resentment. He’s filled to the brim in anguish, rage, in heartbreak.

 

“I never went home that night.” He feels his voice crack and he swallows down his tears, attempting to hold onto the last bit of his composure. “I never went home any other night. I wasn’t allowed into my own house.”

 

He doesn’t manage to catch a glimpse of Woojin’s face before he stomps out, now in tears—bag slung over his shoulder and sleeve pulling up to cover his misty eyes.

 

There’s an overwhelming flood of emotions that take over his entire body, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. For a long time, he had felt so empty—numb to the point where he was sure there might be something perceptibly wrong with him, but he could never really describe it. It’s like the grief you feel when someone you love dies, except there’s something missing, and he can never quite put his finger on what it is. It’s a perfect cube with no way out, where there’s only hopelessness. The walls don’t seem to break despite his jagged edges. And then it’s almost as if someone from the outside had bashed a hole into the cube, and water had started to fill it, along with the agony he always tried to subside. And all he can do is let it drown him, suffocate him completely.

 

Jihoon walks and walks until he can get his head on straight, he didn’t want to face anyone in this state. Jihoon doesn’t cry, not in places that weren’t in the comfort and sanctuary of his own room, not where people can see his transparency. But it’s all he does that night, over Woojin, over his father, over Joonyoung, over everything and everyone that had ever hurt him.

 

 

 

He’s not even sure where his feet are taking him, all he knows is that he’s not going home tonight.