Jongin never thought he’d get this much of a heartbreak after finding out that he wasn’t chosen as Representative. He could argue and say that it’s because he’s wasted so much of his friends’ time, so much of Sehun’s time, and so much effort only to be shot down like this. He was placed second, as told by one of the Professors. He was picked from the bunch as the most reliable one, but after a second thought they disqualified him. 

Renjun has his brows twitched into a frown, lips pursed into a tight line in disappointment. Although Jongin understands why, he has a feeling it’s not what he simply thinks. So when he waves his friends’ concerned eyes away and desperately chases after Renjun, all he gets is a hard stare at first.

They’re in people’s way, stopping in the middle of the path back to the Linguistics building. The laughter ringing about, the heat hugging his existence tight, and the way he can barely notice the people hissing at them for blocking the way. Jongin feels all at once, but yet it’s compiled into one fear. 

Fear that Renjun would turn on him. For whatever reason that Jongin may or may not know, for however long Jongin wouldn’t dare guess. 

“So this was why you didn’t want to participate at first,” Renjun says, a faint trace of exhaustion in his voice. Jongin’s suddenly aware of their different statuses despite their differing ages. He winces when Renjun takes a step closer. “I may be younger than you, but I have still met countless people. I’ve learnt how to… know people. So what changed?”

“What do you mean?” Jongin’s voice shakes even without him wanting to. Even as he pushes through the urge to prove himself innocent straight away.

“You said people might not like you as Representative because of your friends, remember?” Renjun quirks an eyebrow up. “Well, you were right.”

“How am I right?” Jongin questions. 

Seeing the cluelessness in the way Jongin blinks, the genuinity with how Jongin’s tone rides up at certain points in the question, Renjun finally realises that Jongin truly has no idea what he’s talking about. He gulps then, taking a few steps back to adjust his stance. Renjun has to explain everything now. 

“Jaehyun came to us, battered and hurt, and he reported to me what you did to him.” Renjun shakes his head in a sedate manner, thinking back to this morning when Jaehyun had insisted Jongin wasn’t fit to be a leader if he’d treat a friend so badly. 

“Oh…” Jongin’s entire mood shifts. He’s suddenly not worried anymore. “If it’s because of that then I don’t mind losing.”

“What do you mean?” Renjun can only stare on with that frown of his creasing his smooth skin, standing out in a rather unpleasant manner. With such a young age, Jongin thinks Renjun’s supposed to let loose a little. “Is beating up someone worth something you worked months for?”

“No, but my safety is. It’s self-defense, Prof’. I don’t expect you to understand but…” Jongin trails off into his own train of thoughts. “Wait, what did that jerk tell you?”

“He told me you and your friends cornered him and beat him up,” Renjun recalls what Jaehyun told him, frowning now as he thinks about Jongin, unlike what Renjun originally had thought about him, beating up someone innocent. “Why, Jongin? Why would you do that?”

“Don’t believe everything he says. I would tell you why but there’s just no point. You’re right, though, about me not being the type of person who would do something like this.” Jongin tips from the back to the front from his toes to his heels, grinning at Renjun’s puzzled expression. “I wouldn’t do something like that. Oh, and I would just like to say that it was me alone. My friends had nothing to do with it.”

Jongin leaves with a sensation hammering against his chest, a sensation akin to emptiness. He hasn’t done or said everything he should, and there’s more to do or say to Renjun, but Jongin leaves. Perhaps he’s supposed to explain everything, explain that Jaehyun tried to touch him in ways that would trigger nightmares for months. Jaehyun tried to touch him, so he touched back. But with his fists. 

It’s… disgusting. Jongin’s disgusting. 

He doesn’t go back to his friends who are waiting for him. Instead, Jongin turns and heads straight to the bus stop. Even at the bus stop, it’s crowded. Next to the bin, a few people loiter around while smoking. They look lonely, and as much as Jongin wants to compare himself to them, he can’t. It doesn’t sit right for him. 

Just how did he live life? How has he been living through all the years? Jongin can’t remember. All he remembers is his mother, his father, Sehun and his bullies, Taemin and… 

Taemin. No, Taemin’s busy. 

The bus pulls up at the bus stop, its door opening for the ones waiting to climb aboard. A group of people, as many as those climbing in, steps out. They’re excited to be here, excited to spend time at this festival but Jongin’s ready to go home. He taps his card as he gets on the bus and picks a seat at the far back, stumbling over the lack of balance from the bus moving. Staring out the window, he thinks he sees Sehun staring right back at him. Jongin blinks and he’s gone.

His phone dings in his lap. Jongin blinks down at the message displayed on his screen.

Sehun: i’ll tell them u got whisked away by renjun. 

Sehun: get some rest.

Sehun: also…

So that really was Sehun. Just his luck then. Jongin unlocks his phone and watches as Sehun types and deletes his messages over and over again.

Jongin: also what

Sehun: i saw u last night with...

Sehun: that guy.

Jongin: oh well then

Sehun: wanted to help but you punched him.

Sehun: you’re amazing.

Jongin: pardon me what

Although his words in text were of surprise and confusion, his lips betray him and stretches up in content. His heart pounds so hard his blood echoes its calls, reverberating the heat with every heartbeat. 

Sehun: yeah, you’re amazing.

Sehun: more amazing

Sehun: than i last remembered you to be. 

Jongin is extremely quick to type a reply, wanting to ask Sehun to elaborate more. More, he needs more than just “more amazing than last time.” Jongin wants more than a few simple words to work with. He can’t go assuming just anything he wants with such little material. He can’t build a house with just nine bricks. 

Sehun: oh, i have to go.

Sehun: i’ll see you soon.

No! That can’t be it! Jongin audibly grumbles under his breath, ignoring the pointed looks the passengers to his front keeps on sending him. He glares at his phone sitting inanimately in his lap with fervent restlessness for God-knows-how-long. Eventually, Jongin replies, lower lip tucked into a bite, bated breath and all. 

Jongin: okay

Jongin: have fun

Sehun doesn’t text back. Jongin waits. Even after it’s clear Sehun won’t reply, Jongin still anticipates for one. Even as he turns to window and watch as the world whisks by, he keeps a part of his mind on his phone. Even after his head lolls to the side, his breath calmed and his heart now in a state of relaxation, a part of him is ready to jolt up at any moment. 

Even as he’s back in his house—safe, comfortable, and clean after taking a shower—and Jongin looks into the mirror and can’t think of anything else but pitiful, he still hopes Sehun would text again. Call him amazing one more time. 

“Romeo, do you think I’m just a sad being?” Jongin pouts, looking at Romeo through the mirror. “What do I do?” 

Romeo gets up from his comfortable position on the floor and pads out of the room without a second thought. Jongin pouts even harder, turning back to himself when he thinks even Romeo’s had enough of him. A low whine resounds through the room when Romeo reappears again. This time, he has the edge of Jongin’s phone in his mouth. He places it by Jongin’s feet before sitting on his hind legs. 

Jongin stares at his dog with mirth shining in his eyes. He’s taught his dog that trick a long time ago, too long that he’d given up on making it work perfectly. Romeo would either slobber all over it or won’t give the phone up no matter how much Jongin tries to tug it free. 

“You little brat,” Jongin says with pride.

It’s a compliment, but Romeo doesn’t know it is. He only knows Jongin calls him a brat when he’s done something wrong. He casts his eyes down and whimpers again.

“No! You’re a good boy!” Jongin gives his dog a nice petting, even offering him a treat before remembering his phone. “Wait, what do you want me to do with my phone?”

Romeo, now with his treat, pretends to be deaf. Jongin huffs in irritation, picking his phone up all the while calling his dog a brat with a mumble. Jongin’s about to unlock his phone when a missed call catches his attention. It’s an unknown number, but Jongin’s too curious to ignore it.

Dialling the number that called him isn’t a difficult choice to make, not when he has too much free time. The ring goes on twice before it’s silent. There’s some rustling going on in the background before there’s a sigh. 

“Hello?”

Jongin doesn’t respond. This voice sounds familiar but he can’t quite put a name to it just yet. 

“Hey, kid, you there?” 

Ah… okay. Jongin knows now. 

“Why are you calling?” Jongin scoffs. 

“You’re not even curious how I got your number?” Jongin can hear Junmyeon raising one of his eyebrows to form that naturally smug expression on his face. Jongin wants to punch it, but he can’t comprehend just why this is so. “You must have the wariness of a tree.”

Last night went well enough that everyone became friends just as easily as counting down from ten. The influence of alcohol helped too, as everyone lowered their guards and were much friendlier than they normally were. With that, Jongin must have given Junmyeon his number. Hell, he can bet his friends—Taemin and the rest—exchanged numbers with a few of the people there. 

“And you must have the manners of a baboon,” Jongin naturally snarks back. 

“Don’t be so rude,” Junmyeon feigns hurt. “I took time out of my schedule to talk to you.” 

“About?” Jongin asks.

“Who else? What else? How else? When else? Where els—” 

“I get it, I get it,” Jongin says with a sigh. “What about him?”

“Well, I don’t normally share secrets—nor do I condone toxic gossiping—but I would like to spare you and Sehun some time and tell you something he did.” Junmyeon snorts uglily. “It’s just annoying when people don’t just tell someone something when it’s clearly important.” 

Jongin hears silence for the next few seconds, recognising the unmistakable hesitance coming from Junmyeon. He won’t have that. The other’s already sputtering out irretrievable words. 

“Go on,” Jongin prompts him. 

          Three Shrek movies later, 3a.m. approaches rather silently. Jongin rubs the sleepiness out of his heavy eyelids and shifts to lay on his side. Almost immediately, the sleepiness comes back. Jongin giggles at a funny scene from the movie, though his eyes water from staring at the television for too long. 

Jongin’s phone vibrates as a call comes in. He stretches one of his arms out far enough to reach the coffee table, groping around to grab his phone. Once he’s successfully clutched his phone into his grasp, Jongin answers the call without seeing who it is. He’s too tired to bring the screen up to his face. 

“Yellow?” Jongin greets the person on the other side of the call. He then chuckles at his own choice of words. 

“You’re not asleep?”