There are three things you’re expected to lose in high school:

1. Your ity
2. Literally all your stationery from Freshman year
3. Your will to live

Jihoon can safely say he still has a firm grip on both 1 and 2, and 3 has been slipping in and out of his fingers like an excited eel from the very moment he came to consciousness. However, this emblematic eel finally slips and falls into a vast and infinite void, showing no signs of definite return, when Jihoon realises his stepsister is sabotaging his livelihood.

It begins when Jihoon comes home from Orchestra practice one afternoon to see all his Heavy-Metal-Screamo-Classical band posters left in shards upon his bedroom carpet, only to be replaced by the likes of 2010 Justin Bieber. It continues when Jihoon opens his closet one morning to find that all his clothing has been bleached (it’s important to note that all Jihoon wears is monochromatic shades of black, because he’s constantly mourning his lack of faith in humanity.) It continues to continue when she cuts the strings of all his guitars, his violin and his cello, mercilessly decapitates his Black Panther plushie, hacks his composing program with several different viruses, and anonymously leaks the Cursed Images of his second grade ballet recital - which have, by the way, effectively undermined any street credibility he ever had.

But the last straw comes in the form of Jinae putting Pawdrey up the oak tree in the backyard. Which, of course, results in Jihoon breaking his right wrist after trying to retrieve her, when he had unceremoniously crashed to the ground. Now, Jihoon knows Jinae put her up there with this intention, because Pawdrey - among many other things such as dogs, loud noises and chili flavored tuna - absolutely hates heights and would never climb up a tree, even if it was for one of those arbitrary reasons as to why cats climb up trees in the first place!

(After a visit to the hospital, Jihoon’s forearm finds itself in a baby pink cast. Although, Jiyeon adamantly argues; “Pwah!” which means; “Jihoon, it’s actually Salmon.”)

And you can mess with a man’s all-black ensemble clothing, okay? You can mess with his room décor, his passions, his dominant hand, and his dignity. But you mess with a man’s shared custody cat and  gets ing real.

“I’m going to kill myself.” Jihoon announces, slamming his tray of questionable cafeteria food onto the table where he and the rest of his quartet customarily sit. The whole slamming motion proves to be a slight struggle, considering only one of his hands is functional, but he still manages with minimal spills.

His three friends look up from their lunches, take in his physical state, and as if on cue, all say; “What the happened to you?”

Don’t get him wrong, Jihoon is totally the ‘Suffer In Silence’ type. But he’s done with pretending Jinae’s life-ruining endeavors aren’t driving him towards a cliff with a very, very steep drop. So, after collapsing into one of the pull-out plastic chairs, he tells them everything. From the new Household Rule #27, to the initial threat that he’d misinterpreted as empty, to the fact that Jinae isn’t receiving punishment for any of her violations because, according to his stepfather, “You can’t accuse people of wrongdoings without sufficient evidence. And no, Jihoon, Pawdrey hissing whenever Jinae denies your accusations does not count.”

“And to that I say the criminal justice system has failed our society once again!” Jihoon proclaims, angrily biting into a cheese stick.

By the time he’s finished, all is silent (save for the obnoxious chewing and cesspool chatter of their fellow peers) and he’s met with varying degrees of disbelief and pity. Except from Wonwoo, of course, because he could internally feel sorry for you, but externally his face is still going to resemble a small and unchanging rock.

“Jesus Christ,” Soonyoung breathes out, finally breaking the table’s quiet. “I knew your step sister was a witch but this is some Super-Saiyan-Witch-.”

“Wait,” Junhui says, his spoonful of jelly pausing mid air. “So she’s just going to torment you until you cave and date someone? Isn’t that going against some kind of constitutional law?”

Wonwoo, despite sounding completely apathetic, asks; “What are you going to do?” and Jihoon’s about to reply with a potent; “I don’t ing know.” But before he can do so, Soonyoung is forcefully throwing his Capri Sun upon the table and declaring with vigor; “I say you get revenge! Fight fire with fire! Make her rue the day she-”

“Stop.” Jihoon says, cutting Soonyoung off before he can get too caught up in any fantasies of retribution and reprisal. “All that would do is turn the house into a complete and utter war-zone, and I refuse to stoop to her level.”

Soonyoung leans back in his seat, visibly discouraged. “Fine. Be boring and keep your morality in check.” He mutters. “But when she slips laxatives into your forenoon cup of sixty bean coffee, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Why sixty beans?” Wonwoo asks, idly turning the page of his novel.

“Because Beethoven used to drink the same thing every morning and Jihoon has a heart-on for him. Heart-on as in hard-on but-”

"But it's in the center of his cardiovascular system." Wonwoo concludes, nodding earnestly. "Yeah, I get it."

“Why don’t you try and convince your mom to change the rule?” Junhui suggests, finally shoving the jelly into his mouth. “Negotiate with her or something.”

“Have you met my mother?” Jihoon deadpans. “Have you met your aunt?”

Junhui purses his lips. “Good point.”

“If you just dated someone all of this would come to an end, right?” Wonwoo inquires.

“Right.”

“But you don’t want to date anyone, and if you forced yourself to do so that would result in you being miserable, and your step sister would benefit by dating Mingyu as well as finding joy in your relationship-inflicted suffering.”

“Right again.”

“But if you don’t do what she wants, that would also mean you’re probably going to be persecuted to death.”

“Right x3”

“Well,” Wonwoo says, turning back to his copy of 'Good Places To Hide A Body.’ “It’s a lose-lose situation whether you date somebody or not.”

Usually, Jihoon really appreciates Wonwoo’s cold rationality, but for once he doesn’t want the bitter truth. He wants options and solutions to his current predicament. Options and solutions that none of his friends seem to be willing to provide, as Soonyoung’s now preoccupied with trying to ketchup off his elbow, and Junhui’s staring down into his empty jello tub, as if the answers to the most metaphysical of mysteries - like Are human beings inherently good or evil? (They’re evil) and What’s the meaning of life?  (There isn’t one) - will magically eventuate alongside the remains of raspberry flavored gelatin.

Apparently they do, because Junhui then clicks his fingers and looks up wearing his ‘I Have A Potentially Problematic Plan Face’.

Jihoon doesn’t know many things unless those said things involve cynicism, music, or those trivial facts Wonwoo tells him sometimes that usually aren’t applicable to everyday conversation. (“Napoléon's was removed from his body during autopsy, displayed in a museum, and sold for $2,700 in the 1970’s.” isn’t exactly the best response to “Nice weather we’re having, hey?”) But Jihoon does know when Junhui’s wearing his ‘I Have A Potentially Problematic Plan Face’ and that nothing good can ever come of it.

“If you don’t want to date anyone for real, then maybe you could just fake-date someone!”

A beat of silence.

“What?” They all reply in unison.

“Okay, hear me out,” Junhui begins, leaning forward in his seat eagerly, “We find a guy - preferably a gay one so things are a little less complicated - and we say; ‘Hey dude, Jihoon here is being tortured by his Satan-incarnate of a stepsister because she can’t date until he does. However, he has commitment issues, is emotionally inept, and doesn’t want to date anyone for real. So, like, could you maybe fake date him?”

Soonyoung looks at Junhui as though he just commited mass genocide on the puppy population of both the northern and southern hemisphere. “No. No way.” He says, “I’ve ironically read and written enough fanfiction to know that is not a good idea.”

“But think about it!” Junhui continues fervently, turning to face his cousin. “Everybody wins! Jinae gets to be with Mingyu and will stop torturing you, and you won’t actually have to date anyone!”

Jihoon is not convinced in any way, shape or form. “Who the hell would voluntarily want to fake date me?!”

“Well, I would do it,” Junhui offers casually, “but we’re related and I don’t condone .”

Soonyoung steals a handful of potato tots from Wonwoo’s tray and adds; “I’d totally take one for the team if Yuna and I weren't in a budding relationship.”

Wonwoo, in response, looks at him pointedly. Not because Soonyoung took majority of his potato tots (aka the only saving grace of cafeteria food) but because: “She doesn’t even know who you are, Soonyoung.”

“But she does! Yesterday she asked me for a pen in the library!”

“Yeah, and then she said; “Thanks, Soobin.”

“Well, at least she was close...” Soonyoung mumbles quietly, and as he begins to draw a sad face in the pool of ketchup that still remains on his elbow, Wonwoo turns to Jihoon and says; “I would fake-date you if the idea of doing anything remotely romantic with you didn’t make me exceedingly uncomfortable.”

Jihoon nods in genuine understanding. “The feeling is mutual.”

In 6th period Biology, the four quickly come to the realization that everything is bigger in Texas except for the openly gay citizenry of their high school. In fact, the only other guy who’s actually Out is Jeonghan Yoon; the Visual Arts Captain and Jihoon’s Arch Nemesis.

So. Yeah. That’s definitely not happening. They have far too much beef that isn’t really beefy enough to actually be considered beef. (“It’s more like lightly salted lamb.” Soonyoung had once offered, to which Junhui replied; “No. It’s just unresolved .”)

Junhui, however, also thinks the US government is run by reptilian people.

He is not a reliable source for anything, and has a poor sense of judgment.

“I’m downloading Grindr.” Junhui says then, as if to further illustrate this aforementioned poor sense of judgment. “We gotta start looking for possible suitors somewhere.”

So, naturally, Jihoon has many regrets.

Some of these regrets include: Joining the Marching Band, being born, and giving Nayoung Im his contact details because; “Oh my gosh, Jihoon, the pigeon mail was totally just a joke!” and now he has 38 unread emails from her in his inbox.

But his biggest regret - the one he’ll be mentally marinating in his head for years to come - was talking his mother out of installing surveillance cameras in every room of the house.

Jihoon would like to think, that if he hadn’t done so, he would have CCTV footage catching Jinae in all her acts of criminality. And, subsequently, his mother might actually consider the prospect that her daughter is a certified monster, and not the overachieving, goody-two-shoes, Trophy Child that everyone seems to think she is.

(Maybe then, when Jihoon says; “Mom, Jinae is taking everything that gives me any ounce of happiness within this cruel, uncaring universe and absolutely obliterating it.”

She won’t offhandedly reply; “You say that all the time, Jihoon.”

“But that was literally the first time I’ve ever said that.”

"You're beginning to sound like the boy who cried coyote."

"You mean the boy who cried wolf?"

"I meant what I said and I said what I meant. Now, please remove yourself from my Zen Garden, your negative energy is fogging up my chakras.”)

Although, Jihoon's convinced that even with empirical evidence, his mother still wouldn't do anything. It seems the only things she truly cares about are crushing her children's hopes and dreams, bringing the best casserole to PTA meetings, and her heavily handed rules. If she'd put 'BTW, Jinae, You're Not Allowed To Coerce Your Step-Brother Into Acquiring A Significant Other' under Rule #27 in fine print, then she would have cared. But alas, this is not the case. 

Honestly, though, Jihoon thinks the tiest part of this - when disregarding that all parts of it are really ty - is that Jinae’s ultimately going to all this effort just to date some dumb boy.

Even if that dumb boy’s middle name is‘Asian Adonis,’ and he would undoubtedly be #1 on a Top 5 Most Likely To Start Their Own Non Profit And Become A Much Nicer Version Of Gordon Ramsey list. At the end of the day, he’s still just some dumb boy who Jihoon’s holding partially accountable for the days upon days that he suffers at the hands of his stepsister’s physical, psychological and emotional warfare.

“Look at this,” Jihoon says, holding up the ransom note he’d found resting on his desk, the neatly cut-out letters of multiple different magazines leading to spell out;“Get a love life before I end your life in general.”

And Jisoo Hong, whom is sitting on his windowsill, directly across from Jihoon’s own, replies; “Don’t worry, dude. 2 Thessalonians 3:3: The Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the Evil One.”

But Jihoon has found himself neither strengthened nor protected. And he realises that he probably never will be whilst standing in the student car park, towards the end of what has possibly been the worst month of his entire life, as the sky cries in buckets above him.

The first thought Jihoon has when looking up at the darkened clouds is: Same, and the second is: Where the is Soonyoung and that God-awful Naruto umbrella he’s had since the age of seven?

He’s been waiting here next to Gerald for the past twenty minutes. It’s gotten to the point that he briefly considers standing under the Bus Stop awnings like everyone else, where they’re all pushed together like vacuum packed sardines. But then Jihoon remembers that he’d rather stand and shiver in the rain then go against his philosophy of never making physical contact with another human being.

An unexpected ‘ding!’ sounds from his phone.

Soonie: WERE COMIN SSON I PROMIES ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ

Joonie: Wtf is taking you guys so long?

Soonie: WEH GOT CAUGHT UP BY MR KIM WHEN WEH CAME OUTTA HISTOREE BC

Soonie: ‘Oh, Namjoon, hearing your stance on chronocentrism is absolutely enthralling. Please continue,’

Joonie: I love how your texting is except for when it comes to quoting Wonwoo

Soonie: dats te onlee thang u luv abt meh? (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

Joonie: Yep. Now hurry your asses up :)

Soonie: oh ghome the passsive aggressive smilee! Σヽ(ﾟДﾟ; )ﾉ ｱｯ

Jihoon taps out of the messaging app and goes to his playlists. Perhaps some 'Lit Liszt’ will distract him from the reality that he looks and feels like a wet dog due to the sky's tears incessantly pouring down on him.

Or at least they are until they’re suddenly not.

Jihoon looks up - there’s an umbrella above him that’s not a Naruto one. Jihoon turns to his left - there’s someone standing beside him that’s not Soonyoung.

Or Junhui.

Or Wonwoo.

Jihoon feels like he’s been transported to the mystical realm of some ty Shōjo manga when he sees Seungcheol Choi. 

Cue the cherry blossoms, and the overly sentimental piano ballad, and the nosebleed-inducing pick up line.

“What’s with the baby pink cast?” Seungcheol asks, rather than hitting on him, and Jihoon spares a glance at the said plaster that’s currently strangling his wrist and forearm.

There’s an impressively detailed that Junhui had drawn glaringly across the front, a sticker of K.K. Slider placed just underneath it by Wonwoo, and a small quote left behind by Soonyoung that reads; ‘If you are broken, you do not have to stay broken. - Selena Gomez, 2016.’

“It’s salmon, actually.” Jihoon replies soullessly, and for some unfathomable reason, this makes Seungcheol chuckle.

“What happened?” He asks, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow. “Did you break it tearing down Fascist Propaganda again?”

If Jihoon momentarily puts aside the fact that Seungcheol is obviously teasing him, he can be mildly surprised Seungcheol even remembers that interaction to begin with. It was forever ago. (It was three weeks ago.) But perhaps there’s just something about witnessing a belligerent Jihoon Lee in the wild that remains permanently ingrained in one's mind.

Or perhaps Jihoon’s giving himself way too much credit.

Perhaps he’s being too blunt when he fixes Seungcheol with a scowl and simply responds; “No.”

“You never did tell me how that try-out poster was fascist propaganda, you know,”

“Well, it’s not like you asked.” Jihoon retorts, with an unnecessary amount of snark that seems to amuse Seungcheol rather than repel him. In fact, Jihoon realises his usual People Repelling Procedure is currently ineffective, when Seungcheol shifts a little closer, holds his umbrella a little higher, and replies; “Well, I’m asking now.”

Seungcheol Choi is, as we previously established, one of those people. He clearly has a limitless supply of confidence, finds social interaction to be on the same difficulty level as Jiyeon’s 3-piece-puzzles, and when he talks people are inclined to listen and respond amicably. Solely because of this, Jihoon wants to ignore him.

He wants to tell Seungcheol to go away.

“You’re still relatively new, so I’ll excuse your ignorance.” Jihoon says instead. “But this school is basically a totalitarian regime and Mr Wright is the authoritarian leader. He and the rest of the school board reign supreme and the student body must conform and submit to their rule lest they be killed. That try-out poster wasn’t just a try-out poster. It was a demonstration of their dogmatism, and complete disregard for anything that doesn’t involve facilitating their Sport Supremacy Agenda.”

Seungcheol snorts unattractively. Or at least it should be unattractive. But it’s not. “You must be super fun at parties.” He replies, voice tinted with a certain species of sarcasm that implies playfulness rather than hostility.

This, of course, doesn’t stop Jihoon from scowling at him though. “I don’t go to parties.”

“I figured.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seungcheol gives Jihoon a brief once over; starting from his mud-stained runners, trailing over his distressed jeans, honing in on his t-shirt that has the words; ‘If you’re looking for a good time, call someone else’ iron-printed across it in Comic Sans. (It was last year's DIY birthday present from Junhui, and happened to be Jihoon’s only clothing item that wasn’t left completely tarnished by Jinae.)

“You just seem like the type who wouldn’t.” Seungcheol answers, and then, as an afterthought, “You remind me of a Beatnik.”

“A Beat-what?”

“A Beatnik. Like, in the 1950’s, they were these people who wore berets and turtlenecks, and played the bongo drums whilst reciting poetry about how society and regimes were oppressing them and trying to make them conform.”

Am I A Beatnik? - The Quiz

1. Have you ever worn a beret? There was that one time...
2. Do you wear turtlenecks? Purely for comfort purposes...
3. Can you play the bongo drums? Very well, unfortunately...
4. Do you write poetry about oppressive societies and regimes? No, but perhaps I should start?

Jihoon furrows his eyes in that way he knows is intimidating. The way that strikes fear into the hearts of upperclassmen, and makes young children cry for their mothers in the candy aisle of the supermarket when they try to take the last packet of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

Seungcheol, tragically, seems to be immune to his sharp and menacing gaze.

“I’m not a Beatnik.” Jihoon insists, crossing his arms against his chest.

Seungcheol hums, smiling a little. “Sounds like something a Beatnik would say.”

Jihoon is just about to give this cockmuppet a piece of his mind when he hears his obnoxious friends barrel into the student car park like a pack of wild mules.

“Ji!” Soonyoung calls out, sounding like he needs at least four puffs of his Ventolin inhaler. “Sorry we took forever! Please don’t subject us to grievous bodily harm!”

Unsurprisingly, Wonwoo is still talking about chronocentrism when they get to the minivan, but Junhui has stopped listening to his spiral about the importance of the Industrial Revolution to musingly observe Jihoon and Seungcheol. The former of whom can practically see the gears turning in his cousin’s ed up brain.

When an invisible light bulb appears above Junhui’s head; his eyes looking akin to that of a mad scientist’s, screaming; "Eureka! How could I not have thought of this before?!” an overwhelming sense of dread ties Jihoon’s intestines into knots.

“Junhui, no-”

“Junhui, yes!” He replies, before turning to Seungcheol with a brightly lit smile and asking; “You’re into dudes, right?”

And there it is.

No introductions. No small talk. Just a straight up inquiry of Seungcheol’s uality. Actually, not even an inquiry, just a straight up assumption.

For s sake.

“Oh My God, Junhui! You can’t just ask people if they’re into dudes!” Soonyoung chastises, hitting him (albeit not hard enough) with one of the pointy edges of his infamous Naruto umbrella.

"Um..." Seungcheol begins, in a way that suggests he's unaccustomed to being asked such a question. (Jihoon would probably sympathize with him if this wasn’t the Moment Of Truth and he wasn’t already occupied with sitting on the edge of his metaphorical seat.) “I don’t really care about gender, to be honest.” He admits, offering a relaxed shrug. “If I like someone, I like someone.”

Junhui’s grin slowly grows to the size of the Cheshire Cat’s. It’s pure, non-concentrated nightmare fuel.

“Gentlemen,” his of a cousin says, joining his hands together as if in thanks to the heavens. “I think we just found Our Savior.”

A/N: Lmfaoo this is already such a mess