FRIDAY

4:32 P.M

Jongin doesn't even bother greeting his math teacher when he throws the classroom door open and steps inside, practically slamming his backpack on his desk after he takes his seat at the back. Despite feeling like a living dead, Jongin feels his head growing exceptionally clearer when he turns his head and sees Sehun absently scribbling down notes in the margin of his notebook. A part of Jongin wants to text Sehun to ask why he hasn't been picking up the phone last night, given just how many times Jongin attempted to question him about the black car he saw last night. Nevertheless, Jongin can't help the pang of irritation that ignites in his chest when Sehun briefly stops writing to send him a look, only to look back down a second later. Jongin figures that if they were still in eighth grade, he would pass Sehun a note under the table, but he dismisses the thought before he inwardly groans.

Jongin forces himself to shove Taemin's words out of his head, because thinking about Taemin only reminds him of the fact that he's going to be all alone today, and has been ever since this morning, since Taemin barely even said as much as a word to him before flying out the door to head to final practice. To say that Jongin came dangerously close to suffering an existential crisis upon finding himself sitting alone at the kitchen table, without Taemin's boots making noise every second, would be a vast understatement. Jongin is relieved, though, because with Taemin out of the house all day, Jongin figures that he's free to wallow in his own loneliness until tomorrow. If he doesn't die of boredom as a result of completing his History project, that is.

Turning his head ever so slightly, Jongin immediately spots Baekhyun typing away on his phone two desks away. Jongin isn't sure if he's got the fullness in his head to blame, but he ends up resting his face on his desk when he catches a glimpse of the red hearts scattered across Baekhyun's screen after he cranes his neck to get a better view. All Jongin hopes is that Sehun and Baekhyun will be enjoying themselves at the concert and after party tonight, because Jongin knows that there's no way he's dragging himself to either of them just to get verbally mowed down for the nth time this week. Which Jongin figures he wouldn't get a chance to do, anyway, when he's painfully reminded of all the detention sessions waiting for him in a little bit. A part of Jongin contemplates asking Baekhyun to FaceTime the concert so that he doesn't wither away during detention, but he dismisses it when he feels his phone vibrate.

(4:40 P.M) From: krystal ʕ •ₒ• ʔ

6 tonight, remember?? ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

As his teacher continues to yell incoherencies at him, Jongin nearly smacks a hand on his forehead, because he'd forgotten all about his meeting with Krystal this afternoon (even though he might have forgotten to reply the first time). Jongin fights the urge to inform her that he'll most likely be home at one in the morning when his teacher continues to scold him, and it's not until Krystal proceeds to text him a handful of praying emojis that Jongin contemplates sneaking out of detention early. On the other hand, Jongin really doesn't know how he feels about escaping detention just to listen to Krystal fangirl over Taemin one whole hour before the concert, but he ends up caving, anyway.

Jongin barely even registers the bell going off over the sound of his classmates scrambling out of the room like a stampede of buffalo, and he simply remains in his seat while he waits for his teacher to hit him with his punishment. As he watches Baekhyun pack up his things, Jongin doesn't even bother saying anything when Baekhyun wordlessly darts out of the room and down the hallway. Jongin figures that, if he could, he would also be in a hurry to prepare for Taemin's concert, and even though Jongin has made it clear that he most likely won't be able to make it, he still feels a pang of guilt in his chest for possibly disappointing Taemin.

Come to think of it, Jongin has a vague memory of Taemin saying something about how it would mean a lot to him if he showed his face, which does nothing to soothe the anxiety surging through Jongin's veins, all while he fights the urge to slam his head against his desk. He forgets about it, though, when he catches a whiff of Sehun's perfume after Sehun gets out of his chair. Despite not knowing what he expected, it certainly wasn't Sehun brushing past his desk without sparing him a single glance, and Jongin can't bring himself to pay attention to his teacher's voice when he feels a heavy disappointment settling in his gut.

---

Surely enough, Jongin finds himself curled up in the farthest corner of the detention hall less than ten minutes later, and he seriously wonders what he's done to deserve this as his eyes trail across the mess of dates and old fashioned names before him. Jongin wants to cry when he sees that he's got at least three hours left until he can go home, and he fights the urge to toss his History textbook clear across the (empty) room when the thought of spending the rest of the day cooped up on his bed, in the dark, all alone, hits him like a freight train.

Even though he knows that he would rather die than ruin Sehun and Baekhyun's time at the show by showing his face, Jongin finds himself going back to the email Taemin sent them earlier this week. A part of Jongin wants to slap himself, because he knows that Taemin probably wasn't being serious with his words, but he dismisses the thought when he reluctantly clicks on the link to the ticket page. To Jongin's surprise, there's two tickets left, and he ends up suffering a decision anxiety meltdown as his thumb hovers above the button.

Before Jongin can process what he's doing, he's purchasing one of them, and he figures that he'll stick by his promise of wanting to talk to Chanyeol if Baekhyun and or Sehun were to come up to him mid show and evict him. Well, that, and the relieving fact that at least Taemin won't be going on to massacre him for missing the show as long as he lives.

Tossing his phone on the table, Jongin leans back in his chair when he genuinely worries he might die of boredom, only to scramble into a proper sitting position when he comes close to toppling backwards. In a sense, Jongin has no clue why he's still sticking around, given the fact that nobody bothered supervising the room, but Jongin would rather not risk getting caught sneaking out, only to be forced to stay behind over the weekend.

It's not until the monotone sound of the wall clock ticking threatens to drive Jongin to insanity that he eventually gets out of his seat, slams his textbook closed and stretches his legs. Jongin inwardly prays that the dead silent building won't give him away as he quietly swings the door open, hoping that nobody is waiting to pounce on him as he tip toes down the hallway. After doing the math, Jongin realizes that he's got at least an hour until he's supposed to meet up with Krystal at her apartment, so he opts to stop by the cafeteria, since he figures that he's entitled to a snack after suffering in detention for no reason for nearly an hour.

However, Jongin immediately regrets it when he turns the corner, and he finds himself unable to move a muscle as he watches Sehun button his coat over by his locker. At first, Jongin contemplates turning on his heel and bolting in the opposite direction, but he restrains himself when he realizes just how dumb that would be, so he ends up staring like an owl for what feels like forever. In fact, Jongin figures that he would have kept staring forever if it wasn't for Sehun turning his head to look at him a minute later.

To say that Jongin promptly feels every capillary in his body tremble at the unreadable look on Sehun's face would be a vast understatement, and it's not until he hears a group of students approaching from behind that Jongin chews on his bottom lip, legs seemingly moving of their own accord as he inches down the hallway at an embarrassingly slow pace. In a sense, Jongin is thankful, because the heat swelling in his chest effectively masks the hunger threatening to rip his gut apart, but it brings him little comfort as he approaches Sehun's locker.

A part of Jongin has no idea what to do when he reaches the end of the hallway, and he hates himself for awkwardly staring as Sehun goes on to slam his locker shut, which in turn causes a blast of cologne to hit Jongin in the face. For a second, Jongin is entirely unable to choke out a single word, but he wishes he'd just risked a mental lockdown by talking, instead, when Sehun picks up his briefcase and wordlessly makes his way in the opposite direction.

Jongin isn't sure how long he ends up standing motionless in the middle of the hallway with his legs feeling like jelly, since he's much too caught up with trying to control the burning in his chest. Seconds turn to minutes, and Jongin doesn't even register that he's on the floor - a direct result of a handful of law students knocking him off his feet while pushing past him, until he feels a stream of warm tears flowing down his face.

---

Jongin ends up scrapping the idea of grabbing something to eat in the cafeteria. Instead, he simply remains unmoving while he eyes the rows of lockers across from him before he slowly gets to his feet. His principal approaching forces him to move his legs, but Jongin figures that he should have just allowed himself to be trampled instead when Sehun's perfume fills his head the second he reaches the end of the hallway. Jongin hurriedly wipes the dry tears from his cheeks, leaving them even redder than before as he swallows the lump in his throat. Damn it.

As the head rush clears up, so do his thoughts, and Jongin comes dangerously close to doubling over when he feels his chest swell with agitation. Even though the last few minutes are gradually starting to become a blur, Jongin finds himself clenching his jaw in irritation, because how dare Sehun just ignore him and walk off like it's nothing???? Jongin has to slam his hand against the nearest locker to snap out of it, and the pain surging through his palm makes him breathe a little easier. 

Jongin nearly jumps out of his own skin when his back pocket vibrates, and his fingers are so stiff that he can barely keep a proper grip around his phone, but he forces himself to put it by his ear when he hears Krystal's loud voice.

"You haven't forgotten, right?" Krystal practically shouts into the receiver. Her voice sounds slightly distant, almost as she's a few feet away with her phone on loudspeaker, which becomes apparent when Jongin hears his own voice echo in the background.

Jongin has to cough to avoid sounding like a gargoyle with a sore throat when he finally speaks. "I'll be there," he blurts out, inwardly cursing when he sees that he's got less than an hour until they're supposed to meet up. The spinning in his head has him tuning out her response, and Jongin has to lean against the wall in fear of collapsing.

Krystal hums something under her breath. "Remember, be there or be square," she chuckles before a dull sound is heard, which is closely followed by her groan of frustration. "You need to come over, like, right now, this is a frigging crisis." 

"You know I'm not good with that stuff," Jongin mumbles, trying to get his cheeks to cool down as he descends the steps leading to the building. At this point, he honestly doesn't know if he's just saying that to avoid coming over altogether or because his own fashion taste is virtually nonexistent. The biting cold is doing nothing to help him mentally recite the bus time tables, but he doesn't bother going back to fetch his jacket from his locker. "I'm sure he'll like that red dress you-"

"Yeah, but--" Krystal cuts herself off with an exasperated sigh. "But does he even like red?" she asks and it takes every fiber in Jongin's being not to remind her that Taemin's favorite piece of clothing is literally the brightest shade of red in existence. However, he forgets all about it when she exhales in excitement. "Isn't this exciting??? I made sure to book us front row seats, so you'd better help me over here."

Nodding, Jongin shoves his free hand in his pocket. Eyes following the passing cars, his eyebrows furrow when Krystal's words sink in. "Wait, 'us'? What do you-" 

"I knew you'd be super behind with all of this, so I made sure to get an extra ticket," Krystal chuckles with a certain absence in her voice, and Jongin can practically see her holding up a hundred different outfits in front of the mirror. 

Rummaging through his backpack for his bus card, Jongin tries squashing the lump in his throat when Krystal goes on to ask him what lipstick color Taemin prefers on a woman. Frankly, Jongin can't recall Taemin ever talking about, or staring at anybody of the female gender during the entire year that they've lived together, but he opts against telling Krystal for reasons he's too exhausted to think about right now. "Red's fine," he sighs, not even bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice when he sees the bus approaching in the distance. It's not until a gust of wind passes that Krystal's words sink in, and he doesn't know if he's obligated to thank or slap her for making him waste ten dollars.

"Why do you sound so weird?" Krystal asks before her voice gets louder. "Where even are you, I can barely hear-"

"It's nothing," Jongin blurts out, nearly tripping over the top step after boarding the bus. "I'm just tired," he adds after finding himself the perfect spot at the very back. He regrets it, though, when the bus drives over a large pothole, and Jongin fights the urge to tell the driver to take it easy on the brakes when he nearly tumbles out of his seat. It takes him way too long to realize that he must have hung up in the commotion, and even though he knows that Krystal will question him about it, Jongin can't bring himself to care as he leans back and closes his eyes. 

Thankfully, Krystal seems to be way too caught up with finding the perfect outfit to call him back, which Jongin is oddly fine with as he dumps his backpack on his lap. Its hard, lumpy surface makes for a terrible pillow, but he manages to dismiss it when he realizes that he definitely should have faked a nasty cough just now, because the mere thought of being crammed in a crowd full of dancing people for an hour makes Jongin want to cry. A part of Jongin prays that Krystal will notice just how exhausted he is and therefore just let him go home, but he knows that he shouldn't get his hopes up as he stifles a loud scream of agony.

5:53 P.M

Inevitably, Krystal doesn't notice, given that she immediately greets him with an excited smile before literally dragging him across the threshold, before Jongin even gets a chance to greet her. The pink walls and white decorations scattered around her small apartment nearly makes Jongin want to bolt for the door, but he remains silent when she proceeds to tell him about every single outfit she wants him to look at. A part of Jongin aches to remind her that they're not going to be attending a one hundred dollar stadium concert, and he seriously wonders if he's being paid extra to act as a fashion guru when he finds himself sitting on Krystal's bed minutes later. In a sense, Jongin figures that he's lucky, because the messiness of her wardrobe (which exceeds his own by a mile) distracts him from the burning in his chest, and he sort of hates just how immersed he gets when he goes on to rank every single one of her outfits. 

They eventually settle for Krystal's red mini dress with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm (for Jongin's liking), and Jongin immediately feels himself relax when Krystal disappears inside the bathroom a second later. Jongin knows that if Baekhyun's claim of women taking way longer than socially acceptable to get ready is true, he figures that he's entitled to aimlessly roaming around Krystal's bedroom until she comes out. At first, Jongin opts against it in fear of his knees possibly caving in when he stands up, but he manages when he hears Krystal fumble about behind the closed door. The smell of ladies perfume strong enough to make his eyes water only adds to the coiling in Jongin's gut, and he's seconds away from running straight home when the door opens.

Running a hand through her newly sprayed hair (which is a few inches shorter since they last saw each other), Krystal eyes her reflection in the mirror with a contemplative pout, all while Jongin awkwardly sinks back down on the mattress. "I think it's a little too tight, don't you?" she mumbles, twisting and turning her body to get a better look. She huffs in exasperation before she eyes the large mountain of clothes on the floor, and Jongin fights the urge to ask her how on Earth she's going to clean it up before the concert in forty minutes.

Awkwardly nodding, Jongin makes sure to keep his eyes focused on everything but Krystal's perfectly accentuated curves when she points them out. "It looks fine, you look fine," he says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, but he figures he must have done a terrible job when Krystal sends him a look. "I mean, it's a little...you know, short, but...never mind." Jongin keeps his gaze fixated on the black cap on her desk, which only reminds him of the fact that he has yet to unpack their trophy.

Krystal chuckles. "Y'know, you might like men and all, but you could at least help," she sighs, to which Jongin responds with an embarrassed squawk. It's not until she says something about Taemin preferring her silver dress instead that Jongin visibly tenses. "What's with you?" she huffs upon noticing Jongin's gaze anxiously flickering around the room.

Eyeing the peeling, pink paint on the wall across from him, Jongin feels himself shrug. A part of him figures that if he were to choose to attend the concert, he would definitely swipe some of Taemin's silver eyeshadow, but he forces himself to dismiss the thought in fear of his chest exploding with heat. "It's nothing--" Jongin fights an impulse to curl up underneath the pink duvets when Krystal blinks. "They held me back for like, ever, I'm just tired, okay???" He doesn't even bother masking his childish pout as he runs a hand through his hair, which he's inevitably forgotten to brush. 

Shrugging, Krystal nods as she resumes inspecting her reflection, all while she says something about how lucky she is to be attending a school that doesn't give out detentions on Fridays. She disappears back into the bathroom for a brief moment before returning with a hair straightener. "Well, concerts tend to wake just about everybody up, so you shouldn't worry," she says with a twinkling grin. 

Feeling his pulse quickening, Jongin finds himself snapping out of his semi trance when she finishes her sentence. "That's...I mean, that's not really what I--" He sort of wishes he hadn't zoned out just now, because it takes him way too long to register that Krystal has ped her dress, and Jongin immediately takes back his squawk of embarrassment when he realizes that he's been unconsciously staring at the lacy outline of her bra the whole time. "Never mind--"

Krystal bends down and plugs in her straightener with a short hum, all while Jongin nearly breaks his wrists scrambling to cover his eyes. The loud sound of it whirring into life masks Jongin's garbled string of apologies, which seemingly goes unheard by Krystal as she shamelessly goes on to talk about the after party. "You need to relax a bit," she says, turning up the heat. It's not until she asks Jongin if he'd like a turn with the straightener, after pointing out the obvious tangles in his hair, that she giggles. "School can't be that bad, can it? I mean, I guess you must be super busy lately, but...never mind, forget it."

Jongin awkwardly places his hands in his lap while Krystal douses her hair with something he can't bring himself to care about. He sort of wants to scream when they fall into silence, but Jongin would rather cry in front of her than admit to why he seemingly dropped off the face of the planet after their performance. A pang of guilt threatens to electrocute him when Krystal jokingly asks him if she's done anything to piss him off. "It doesn't-- It's got nothing to do with you." He mentally slaps himself when he ends up coming off slightly ruder than he'd intended. "I mean, it's-- There's been a-- This whole week's just been goddamn hectic, that's all."

Dragging the heated tongs through her hair, Krystal sends Jongin an unreadable look in the mirror. She's silent for a minute as she picks up the half empty bottle on the floor. "I mean, alright, fine," she says, the promptness in her voice nearly making Jongin flinch. "It's just...I mean, I wouldn't know since you haven't bothered touching your phone all week, but okay." Standing up, she runs a hand through her hair, which reeks of heat protection. They fall into silence again before she turns around at the sound of Jongin sighing.

"It has nothing to do with you," Jongin snaps, only to clamp his mouth shut when Krystal blinks. His heart is threatening to burst through his ribcage and he sort of regrets walking in the door when a glint of hurt flashes in her eyes. "I mean, it's...thing are just ing weird between me and Baek and Taemin," he mutters, deliberately leaving out Sehun's name in worry of ripping Krystal's duvet to pink shreds. Jongin averts his gaze when Krystal blinks again, and he low-key curses her hypnotizing, motherly gaze for making him open his mouth again. "We haven't been getting along, that's all."

Walking over to her desk, Krystal hums something in response before she grabs her makeup case. "Okay," she hums, pulling up her dress. She's silent for a minute as she runs the tip of her bright red lipstick across her bottom lip. "I mean, I sort of figured, but--" She blinks after capping it, to which Jongin responds by internally screaming. "So what happened between you guys, then?" she asks, zipping her dress.

Opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, Jongin finds himself unable to choke out a single word as he feels his brain fogging up again. He's thankful that Krystal is standing with her back turned towards him, because he would rather she didn't question him about the way he's practically shaking like a leaf while chewing on his bottom lip. However, his relief is short lived when she looks at him in the mirror, nearly making him choke on his own saliva. "It's nothing, don't worry about it," he squabbles, not wanting to put her in a bad mood and thus risk erasing the glint of excitement in her eyes.

Krystal halts with her eyebrow pencil mere inches from her face. "So you're gonna tell me that something's bothering you, only to avoid telling me what's bothering you," she chuckles. "That's a new one."

"Nothing's the matter," Jongin croak-garbles, flailing his hands everywhere, only to mentally smack himself when he realizes just how stupid that sounded. "I mean, it's not-- You can't just assume-"

"Kim Jongin, when you miss practice, I know something's the matter," Krystal promptly says after tossing the brown pencil back in her case. "And I'd rather you tell me about it before I go on to assume that this is all just some scheme of yours to let me know that you're no longer interested in the group." She turns to stare at him, and Jongin blames the newly added eyeliner framing her eyes for making him flinch. 

Jongin blinks, thankful that he's sitting down since he definitely would have collapsed upon seeing the way Krystal shakes her head in exasperation. Even though the heaviness in his chest is making it difficult for him to open his mouth, Jongin can't bring himself to stay silent when he feels something ignite in his head. "What did you-"

"Can you blame me?" Krystal scoffs, practically tossing her makeup case aside as she unplugs her hair straightener. "I mean, look, you show up to our very first show, after missing several practice sessions, while shaking like a frigging druggie in withdrawal, only to disappear for like a week without even bothering to contact me about anything, and now you're refusing to--" She gestures at him in exasperation, a look of confusion mixed with hurt etched on her soft features. It's not until Jongin visibly swallows that she shakes her head. "If you're no longer feeling it, fine, I'm not forcing you to stay, but I'd like it if you-"

"I never said I was dropping out," Jongin exclaims as he runs a tired hand down his face. A part of him wants to scream at Krystal for inviting him over just to humiliate him, but he remains silent as he watches her finish applying her makeup. "You know I wouldn't."

"Then let me know what's wrong so we can drop this once and for all, 'kay?" Krystal asks with a surprising amount of promptness in her voice (which has Jongin figuring that Taemin's stoic straightforwardness must have rubbed off on her) after she turns around and sends Jongin a look. "You're my friend and you can bet that we're going to this show in a good frigging mood whether you like it or not," she adds with a slight chuckle. Smoothing out her dress, she send Jongin an expectant look.

Flopping down on the mattress, Jongin stares up at the feathery ceiling light above his head as he presses his lips together. Figuring that they should probably have left five minutes ago, Jongin opts to keep his mouth shut, because he would rather Krystal didn't scratch his eyes out for making them arrive late to the show. However, it's not until Krystal loudly clears that he forces himself to open his mouth. "You know Sehun, right?" he asks, so quietly that he barely even hears himself, all while squashing the lump in his throat. 

Krystal blinks before she shrugs ever so slightly. "Baekhyun's boyfriend," she says with a nod, as if she's trying to reassure herself. "What about him?" 

Nodding, Jongin tries focusing on the soft mattress beneath his back to distract him from the fact that he's probably going to suffer a heart attack if he continues. "Yeah, but I mean...he isn't--" He internally screams. "I mean, more like...ex, I guess." Suddenly feeling like a child confessing to their parent, Jongin audibly exhales after Krystal her aside. No going back now. 

Krystal fixes her smudged lipstick, hands on her hips as she nods. "O-kay," she hums, impatience lacing her voice while she continues to eye Jongin. "That for-- I mean, I get being upset on Baekhyun's behalf, but why's that something to miss practice over? You're confusing-"

"Because I made them break up, okay???" Jongin wails, throwing his hands in the air. A cold wave immediately comes over him when Krystal goes silent. Now, Jongin isn't sure if he's got the blinding light or Krystal's concerned gaze to blame, but the next thing he registers is his head blurring, tongue gradually becoming lighter as he lets the words and sentences fall out one by one, until he finds himself practically gasping for air on the mattress. A part of him wants to curse Krystal for being so incredibly unknowing, but he dismisses it when he sees the look on Krystal's face. Despite wanting nothing more than to scramble off the bed and hide away in her closet, Jongin opts against it when he feels every muscle in his body go slack. "That's it...I guess."

At first, Krystal is eerily silent, and it's not until she blinks that Jongin comes dangerously close to bursting into tears. She opens and closes , seemingly needing more time to process Jongin's words than Jongin himself, before she clears . "You and Taemin slept together?" she asks and Jongin figures that if he had the energy, he'd reach right out and mess up her hair when she blinks again.

Fighting the urge to roll over to hide his reddening face from view, Jongin groans. "You don't need to say it like that," he grumbles, not knowing if he should laugh or cry when he feels his shoulders relax ever so slightly. "What am I gonna-"

"What's he like?" Krystal blurts out, and Jongin wants to scream at the seriousness in her voice. "I mean-"

"You at being motherly," Jongin chuckles, only to wince when he suddenly feels Taemin's strong hands gripping his hips. "And since you asked, way too ing rough--" He nearly falls off the bed when Krystal whacks him upside the head with an embarrassed squawk. "You asked-"

"Forget I did," Krystal mutters, not even bothering to hide her pink cheeks as she clears . "Anyway." She sends Jongin a warning glare when he snickers from his spot on the bed. "I might , but at least I'm not in love with my best friend's boyfriend, so there," she mutters, ignoring Jongin's squawk of 'Ex' as she inspects her makeup in the mirror. She's silent for a minute before her features contort into an expression of pure sympathy. "Why didn't you just tell me???"

"That wouldn't have helped," Jongin groans in agony. Checking his phone, he nearly screams when he sees that if they want to make it to the concert at all, they should probably head out the door right this second. "It's not my fault he randomly chose to me-"

"Not Taemin," Krystal says, twirling a pink mascara tube with nifty fingers. "Y'know, the thing about Sehun being the guy you liked." She chuckles. "I mean, I should've figured, since you were literally staring him to pieces in the café," she hums. "I was literally this close to asking if you liked him, but I'm a good friend so I didn't." A low hum leaves her lips when she takes a selfie on her phone. 

From his spot on the bed, Jongin sincerely hopes that Krystal won't go on to propose any of her infamous heartbreak remedies, because frankly, he would rather spend the rest of his day cowering in his bed and sleeping until Monday morning than watching cheesy soap operas while stuffing his face with ice cream. It's not until Krystal goes on to check over the contents of her purse that Jongin suddenly hears his heart pounding so forcefully that he has to cough into his fist in fear of Krystal catching onto it.

While Krystal goes on to express her excitement for the after party, Jongin can't help the empty sorrow that comes over him like a tidal wave, because not even her ramblings can soothe the sob that threatens to escape his throat at the fact that he knows that he's going to be spending the whole concert cowering off to the side. Jongin doesn't tell Krystal, though, and he simply sends her a lazy thumbs up when she goes on to ask his final opinion about her dress. Jongin figures that if Taemin swung the other way (and liked Krystal back), he would probably let her wear his red leather jacket, which would match her dress perfectly.

In fact, Jongin finds himself so preoccupied with the thought that he doesn't pick up on Krystal trying to talk to him, and he immediately regrets the loud yelp that leaves his lips when she claps her hands in front of his face. "Whatdoyouwant-"

"I said I found it weird," Krystal says, walking over to the pile of clothes on the floor. Looting through it, she eventually holds up a pastel pink crop top. "Y'know, the thing you just said." She proceeds to chuck them right in Jongin's face. "Or, what Sehun said about Baekhyun seeing somebody else, I guess."

Jongin finds himself to process Krystal's words over the wave of embarrassment that comes over him when he stares at the garment. All that fills his head is Taemin's video, which in turn only reminds him of Sehun complimenting his looks while he danced. The mere thought is enough to make Jongin want to toss it right back at Krystal, but he finds himself gripping it impossibly tight when her words sink in. Even though Jongin is thankful that he's at least got somebody who understands him, a part of him wishes that Krystal would drop it, given that he can feel a wave of nausea coming over him just thinking about it. 

"I guess," Jongin mutters before he hears himself growl under his breath. To this day, he still doesn't, and will probably never understand why Sehun decided that it would be a bright idea to insult Baekhyun right in front of his face, when everything could have been absolutely perfect. Jongin doesn't even realize that he's practically tearing the shirt in his hands to shreds until Krystal playfully yanks his hair. "God, it's all just...it's just bull."

Krystal takes a selfie on her phone. She goes on to edit it, only to look up when something flashes in her eyes. "You know, come to think of it, it doesn't have to be," she mutters, adding a cute animal filter to her photo. "Cause-"

"Like, who does he think he is???" Jongin blurts out, nearly passing out from vertigo when he sits up like a bullet. It takes him a second to recover before he throws his hands in the air, all while Krystal stares at him. Jongin doesn't even bother acknowledging how childish he must look, but he can't help it as he runs a hand through his hair in agitation. "I mean, he can't just lie like that and expect me to be okay with it just to make me feeling ing better--"

"To make you feel better about what, exactly?" Krystal scratches the back of her head in confusion. "Didn't you just tell me that he told you it wasn't your fault?" She doesn't let Jongin answer before she continues. "I'm no love guru or anything, but if you sit really down and think about all this, what's even keeping you from getting together in the first place?" A lock of brown hair falls in her face when she presses her lips together. "I mean, he told you he'd broken up with Baekhyun, literally told you it wasn't your fault like, a hundred times, showered you with interest-- , I'm pretty sure I saw him undressing you with his eyes in the shop, yet you pushed him away because of something he said about Baekhyun???? Am I getting this right, or???"

Jongin chews on his bottom lip, too caught up with controlling the burning in his chest to listen. In a sense, he figures that they're better off being late, anyway, since he'll have an excuse to go home and sleep his misery away. Despite wanting to scream himself hoarse, he can't bring himself to move his lips, so he simply lets Krystal repeat her question until it echoes in his head like a mantra. "So you're calling him a liar," Jongin blurts out, hoping his head won't explode when Krystal sends him a look.

Sighing, Krystal shakes her head. "I'm calling you dense," she unapologetically says. "You shouldn't-- This whole judging-situations-way-too-quickly thing of yours isn't helping anybody, you know." She sends him a look. "I mean, if you'd just listen-- Look, I know you think I'm simply out to get you, but I'm just curious as to why you're so incredibly unwilling to even entertain the idea of Baekhyun-"

"Because he wouldn't do something like that, okay?" Jongin exclaims, fighting the urge to growl in irritation when Krystal sighs. "You've met him what, twice? The hell do you know about-"

"Doesn't mean he's incapable of screwing up," Krystal retorts.

Jongin has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from lashing out, which ends up being a difficult task when he feels his veins sting like he's brushed them against poison ivy. "And I promised him I wouldn't--  it, never mind." A part of him wants to lecture Krystal about the fact that Baekhyun would never betray his trust, and that if the latter actually did have a problem, he would most definitely know about it at this point. It's not until Krystal loudly calls his name that Jongin nearly jumps clear through the roof in surprise, and he's glad he doesn't give himself whiplash looking at her. 

Krystal is silent for a minute, purse draped over her shoulder as she furrows her eyebrows. "Look, I didn't want to say it at first, cause I wasn't sure if-"

"Don't you start on me now," Jongin scowls, only to mutter a low apology when Krystal sends him a sharp glare.

"Look, I wasn't sure if it mattered or not, but after hearing this--" Krystal gestures at Jongin after checking the time on her phone. "I mean, it's probably not the best timing, since-- Okay, listen, you need to promise that you'll be in a good mood later on no matter what, okay? I don't want to to say this, but-"

"Then don't," Jongin sighs and he sort of hates the cold dread bubbling in his chest when he stares at the pink shirt in his lap. 

"I have to, cause I care about you and I want you to hear this," Krystal stubbornly says, putting a hand on her hip when Jongin pouts. She waits until he isn't planning on protesting to continue. "Okay, so like, two weeks ago on Monday, I was out for my evening jog and I passed by your school at like, six, and-- Don't hate me now, cause I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I'm pretty sure I saw Baekhyun getting into somebody else's car." She runs a hand down her hair. "Like, I probably wouldn't have given a crap if it wasn't for the fact that I saw Sehun's car a week later-"

"That was Sehun's car," Jongin blurts out, stifling a sob of frustration when he hears his voice cracking. The coiling in his gut is overwhelming and he has to flop back down on the mattress before he can black out completely.

Krystal shrugs. "I mean, I thought so, too, but that one was like, not only white but way smaller." She shakes her head. "Point is, I couldn't really see, but it wasn't Sehun behind the wheel, like, at all." She puts her hands up in defense. "I mean, no offense, but Sehun's teeth aren't nearly as white as that guy's were, just saying." A sigh leaves her lips when she reaches into her purse. "If I'd known you liked him back then, I would've told you, but-" 

Krystal's words soon become muffled when she refreshes her lipstick, but Jongin barely hears her voice over the fire threatening to make his insides melt. As he stares at the pink garment in his hands, the only thought that manages to break through the fog in his head is that he vividly recalls Sehun going home an hour before Phys Ed, after coming down with the flu in the middle of class, on that very day, and Jongin has to force himself to take a breath when he feels his throat closing up. Krystal goes on to ramble about how much she hopes Taemin will notice her in the crowd, but Jongin tunes her out when a wave of nausea strong enough to make him want to retch comes over him. To Jongin's surprise, he manages to hold it all in, even when Krystal claps and rubs her hands together after checking her watch. 

Everything seems to go in slow motion as Jongin watches Krystal head for the door, but he's unable to move a muscle when she gestures for him to follow her. Despite the hot flashes in his brain melting every thought in his head, Jongin finds himself standing up and trudging towards her, not wanting Krystal to verbally massacre him for avoiding the show at the last possible minute.

The biting cold doesn't faze Jongin one bit as he blindly follows her down the patio steps towards the small garage. It's not until the large door slides open that Jongin realizes that he's still grabbing onto Krystal's pink shirt, but considering his knees feel like they're about to give in any moment, he opts against going back inside the house. Jongin stuffs it in his jacket pocket, all while he makes a mental note to return it after the show.

Jongin barely registers dragging himself into the front seat until the sound of the engine roaring to life fills his ears. Krystal goes on to ramble about the after party as she steps on the accelerator (with stilettos, which has him high-key fearing for his own safety), but Jongin barely even hears her loud voice over the sole thought pinballing inside his head.

ing hell.