🍉 OVER

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Oh, it might be wrong, might be the time of your life

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"Go, go, go!" Seulgi mouths and cheers for me at a corner as I am looking back at her, her orange head glowing like a neon light in the cold, gray morning. Mentally pulling her hair, I let out yet another groan, and walk – drag my feet – across the hallway to get to that damn golden kid's locker again. Pulling the small pink box of a red velvet cake slice, I glance at the note attached to it.

(A sweet piece from my sweeter heart for the sweetest person called 'you'.)

It's 6:38 a.m. and I find myself jumping off a cliff.

Reason of suicide: my sister's teeth-rotting, lovesick antics.

But I'm just joking here. He-he.

Anyways... I get to Chanyeol's locker damn fast and, as quick as the speed of light, swing the box over my head to place it atop of the blue locker. Feeling proud of my work, I take a step back only to bump into someone and we both land on the floor, on our asses.

Oh my God! Please let this be not Chanyeol!

I hear a girly yelp from my side which causes my head to turn to where that came from. A sniffing girl in a blue dress greets my view. She's on her and is clearly hurt, looking like a kicked puppy. I hurriedly get up to help the poor girl. As she stands up, she fixes herself and rubs her eyes. Poor thing.

"Gee, I'm so sorry," I apologize and bow a bit. "Were you crying?" Because she's sniffing and wiping her eyes and all that.

She instantly shakes her head.

"N-no..." she answers, voice barely a whisper.

Oh?

"Fine then. But, you know what, I'm really sorry. I should get going now, aye? Be careful," I say and turn to leave when a soft hand stops me from doing so.

Turning back, I see the girl's big eyes flutter.

"You see, I'm n-new here," she confesses, still looking straight at me. "C-could you... maybe, t-tour me around here?"

Her eyes are begging, and I have a soft heart.

I couldn't say no.

--

Shin Mihu, that's her name. She's a half-Japanese, half-Korean, as what she told me. Turns out that we have the same classes except English this afternoon so I'm spending the whole lunchtime with her, just talking about random things.

"And what did you do after she rolled her eyes at you?" I ask, completely enjoying her story of how she had her first catfight over just a pair of cute socks at a mall.

She giggles and forms a fist. Cute.

"I wanted to punch her then, but I was not that strong so we just pulled each other's hair," she explains. It has me laughing and dropping my spoon into the floor. I'm quite expecting to hear a little clatter from it but a person's groan is what I get.

Oh my, it hit someone!

Curious of the familiar voice, I look into my right and land my eyes on— sht, it's Chanyeol!

Looking at his now curry-stained shoes, I feel sweat already forming on my hands. He just stands next to me and glares the life out of me – and is probably internally breaking my bones and fly-kicking me to the trashcans where I belong.

"S-sorry, man," I say, standing up and gulping all the nervousness down. "Didn't see you there."

He just clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his wet black hair. Why is his hair always wet, though?

I notice Mihu fidget from across me, looking at Chanyeol and I like she's trying to figure out a puzzle.

Chanyeol carelessly stares back at her like she's some freak that he clearly doesn't wanna lay eyes upon again.

"Your sorry's not enough to clean these kicks, trash," he mutters, looks down at his shoes, and gazes back at me. "In fact, it's too late now to say sorry."

I then find myself spitting out small giggles, imagining Justin Bieber singing that one hell of an apology song behind Chanyeol.

His eyes twitch.

"Do you think I'm joking here, trash?" he growls. Me? Gulping my nervousness even more. He sighs and stares lightsabers at me, lips slowly creeping up into a smirk. "If you still want to see the sunlight, though, meet me at C building's rooftop after classes. You fail, you die."

I gasp because, again? What the hell?

"But, kid, he says he's sorry!" I turn to see Mihu almost shouting and even calling Chanyeol a kid. I shoot her a look, shaking my head quickly. "Who are you anyway? Why are you like that?"

Facepalming, I hear Chanyeol gasp.

"Who am I? Heh. Well, hoe, I'm The Golden Man Park Chanyeol, if you didn't know," he says, rudely staring Mihu down. "And, puh-lease, shut up or you also won't get to see the sunlight."

She quickly shuts quite literally. Chanyeol returns his gaze to me and smirks yet again. God, help me.

"See you then, trash," he huffs and leaves the cafeteria.

Mihu can only look at me with remorse, and I can only shrug at her as an answer.

Damn. You're in for yet another trouble again, Baekhyun.

And, yes, fck Justin Bieber for that!

--

English comes and I'm already sweating in my seat because Chanyeol will be here now in any minute.

I can't just face him like that. I made a big mistake, y'know? Stupid me.

Five minutes before time, some of my classmates already come and I sense someone move beside me. Turning right to see whoever it might be, I see Chanyeol casually leaning on his chair, carding a hand through his wet bangs, and showing me his famous smirk.

I internally gulp at the sight.

"Afternoon, trash," he says, chin up. "Know what? I think I should call you ash, too, with that gray head of yours." He motions for my gray hair which is slightly showing its black roots now.

I just shrug and then notice the familiar pink box he's clutching which seems to be untouched because the tape and note haven't been ripped off yet.

Realizing I'm staring at what he's holding, Chanyeol glances at it then back at me. He lifts his eyebrows in suspicion.

"What?" he grumbles, face blank, pulling the box close to his body like he's afraid I would steal it any minute by now.

I scoff. "Nothing. Just wondering why you're carrying a pink box."

"What's it to you then?"

I just shrug, think of a snarky comment, and smile to myself as I think of one.

"Because you're The bad boy Golden Man Park Chanyeol... And, boy, is that pink," I mumble, crinkling my eyes, pointing the box on his lap with my forefinger.

His face flushes.

Woah. He's blushing for the first time and he looks cute, idk.

And I don't know how, but he is already gripping – pulling – my finger so tight and hard that I can feel the joints break away from each other.

I find myself pulling my finger back.

"Are you implying that I, The bad boy Golden Man Park Chanyeol, should not be touching things that are... pink?" he hisses each word with obvious despisement, moving closer. "Are you bossing me around now, huh?"

I gulp at his words, mostly to the fact that we're so close our breaths are almost mixing with each other and he is still pulling my finger.

"O-of... course not!" I exclaim, slightly shaking in my chair because damn Baekhyun! It's all your fault you got all brave and taunted this damn golden kid. Now you pay the price. "You c-can touch anything you w-want to. And, nope. N-not being bossy here, jeez. Give me a break."

He huffs a small puff of air and rolls his eyes the manly way.

(Oh, yes. There's a manly way.)

"Can I... have my finger back?" I nervously ask, eyes shutting close, afraid to drown in his eyes.

I suddenly feel his warm breath tickle my nose as he says, "Not a chance."

Eyes opening, I gulp yet again at the sight of his face way close to mine. Too close at that.

I'm about to let out yet again a clever remark, but a rowdy voice interrupts me as it echoes throughout the whole classroom.

"Mr. Lee is coming!" a classmate of ours shrieks, and everybody tenses up.

"Hey, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, cut the flirting and sit properly!" Minho shouts from my left to which I visibly jump at. What the hell.

Taemin perks up from the front and eyes Chanyeol and I.

"What are you doing? Sword fighting? Role playing?" he inquires and dramatically gasps, putting a hand on his chest, other one motioning at Chanyeol and I's connected ones. "Gross. Get a room, you two!"

Chanyeol's jaw drops and he immediately lets go of my finger, wide-eyed.

"What are you t-talking about— it's not l-like that," he stammers and glares at Taemin who just rolls his eyes in response.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You both totally looked like nincompoops who were playing catch-me-if-you-can," Taemin deadpans and turns his back at us.

Nincomwhat?

Chanyeol keeps sputtering and cursing beside me for how the class' gay duo is getting it all wrong while me, I'm... at a loss for words.

I place my hand on my lap and stare at the front.

"This is all your fault, Baekhyun," he hisses.

I just sigh.

And I'm somehow quite relieved and glad because a.) Yeah, it's quite my fault and b.) He fcking called me by my name!

I find my lips turning into a small smile, cheeks burning up.

--

The bell rings and my classmates are back to being wild animals again.

Chanyeol stands up and pulls me from my seat, his grip on my wrist fatally tight.

Ignoring Taemin's hell-raising, shameless shouts of "Excited are we, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, huh? Are you guys going to the bathroom? Hey, Minho, let's go with them and have a double head session together!" to which some of our classmates gag at.

Wincing, I just let the damn golden kid drag me out of our hellish zoo of a classroom and into the hallways. The next thing I know, we're already at the rooftop and Chanyeol's dropping my wrist and pushing me -first on the floor.

"Hey, dude! That's rude!" I cry in pain and unconsciously pout at him to which he rolls his eyes at.

"Don't 'hey, dude' me, trash. You're the trash here. You aren't supposed to talk," he scoffs and plops down on the floor just a few inches in front of me, boring his eyes through the windows of my soul. "And don't speak rhymes. I've had enough of English today."

I can't help but just blink at him like the idiot I am. I can feel that he is tired and I don't know what to say to console such tired golden boy.

He sticks his fingers onto his temples, face relaxing as he massages them. He moans in relief.

"Hey... uhm, are you gonna do something to me now?" I mumble, looking up at him, ready for a round of breaking bones and flying kicks.

His face distorts into disgust and he backs a good meter away from me like I'm the plague.

"What the fck, Baekhyun? Are you agreeing with that gay Taemin now?" he roars, causing me to jump a bit in my place. "And, no! I'm not giving you head or anything. Hell, never!"

What is this boy talking about just now?

"What? I'm asking you about what you told me earlier in the cafeteria. You know, the whole you-fail-you-die thing?" I explain, inching away just as far in case he loses his cool and decides to hit me.

The boy becomes flustered as it probably dawns on him that I'm not referring to what Taemin said, but to what he said himself.

"Oh... that," he mumbles, biting his lip.

He stands on his feet, towering over me. I lift my head to see him.

"I... I, uh.." he starts, cheeks blushing, gesturing in the air. I motion for him to continue. He just facepalms and groans loud. "You know what? Nevermind! I'm outta here."

Then I just find myself staring at the swinging door of the rooftop area, Chanyeol long gone, me being left alone.

"Okayyy," I mutter to myself and lift my body to finally stand.

What a weird kid.

Park Chanyeol, he is.

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