A soft melody of a broken heart echoes around the soft silence of the empty room. I’m incapable of playing songs that bring joy and delight to people, as I’m mostly incrusted with haunted memories and equally as melancholic as my soul. The notes grace out of my violin softly and trimmed; coated with a sorrowful sadness that encompasses my edges; resembling my coarse personality and the deepest encrypt of my facial features.

I’m not usually the type of girl that would so openly play her violin more than five minutes when there’s an audience. But Chanyeol in front of me is making himself sound and quiet; his eyes expressive yet blank as they watch my fingers glide the string of the violin so smoothly across the chords, releasing a melody of despair and indignant responses. I focus my eyes on my lap so that I don’t have to meet Chanyeol’s transpired eyes so full of emotions, and so that they don’t stun me over and make me stumble over my music. My hands are already stiff with trepidation as they are and I don’t want to throw myself into another side of distraction and ruin the small melody that I’m producing so effectively. 

I play a last verse and than stop, raising my head upwards to meet Chanyeol’s twinkling eyes and lower my violin. I let out a small sigh of relief at the absence of music, having been infiltrating my heartbeats for the longest of times now.

“Okay, I’m done. Can we go now?” I ask Chanyeol. The boy’s eyes widens, and he fixes his position from where he had been leaning against his hands back on the floor, and sits up correctly. His face a map of horror and doubt, and I very clearly notice him gulp. 

“No, no, no, no,” he exclaims, shaking his head furiously. “You didn’t even play the violin for half an hour! You just gave me a ten minute piece to shut me up!”

“Just so you know,” I stare down at him haughtily, still holding the violin with precious, nimble fingers. “me playing the violin for you isn’t going to prolong this.”

He flops backward on the floor, throwing all of his weight on the ground and inconspicuous about the loud thud that his body created. I wince at the pain that must’ve traveled there; but Chanyeol seems none the wiser, as he continues to release low-pitched groans. “But I don’t wanna go!”

“Well, too bad for you,” I walk a little to the side, stepping over his big body, and lowering the violin in its case right behind him. “You have to come.”

He sits up, eyes wide, and stares at me in disbelief. Disbelief to the fact that I’m taking this matter so easily when he’s about to throw up from the whelming anxiety that is overpowering his whole being. “You can’t treat me like this, Yuji, you’re my girlfriend!”

It’s a little funny that he’s reacting so un-Chanyeol-like to the simple notion of going to my house and meeting with my mom. Ever since I told him that my mom is dying to meet this Chanyeol guy that I’m actually exiting the house on a school day to meet him; and she kept badgering me to bring him home so that she can see for herself who this ‘wonderful’ guy is. I didn’t really think too much of it. I understand where mom’s coming from. For a person who never had friends and was always self-conscious about them; having one, and a male at that, so suddenly, excited her to no ends. I just don’t understand why Chanyeol’s acting so bizarre about him. Knowing him, I had expected a totally different reaction, but seeing him have a meltdown is a little amusing to watch. 

“Um,” I look down at his huge body and blink my eyes so I don’t explode in laughter at how pouty he looks. “I never really heard you asking me to be your girlfriend.”

His eyes widens even more, and he sits up again so that he can look at me properly. His white golden hair flops over his eyes and he waves the strands away casually. He looks like a shaggy poodle shaking his fur and I have a deep urge to sink my fingers against his hair. I hold myself, though. “What do you mean? I don’t need to ask you, we already kissed and had our first fight. That makes us boyfriend and girlfriend by default.”

I furrow my eyebrows at him oddly. “I don’t understand the rules of dating. They’re weird.”

“It’s because you haven’t dated anyone before yours truly.” he finally allows his lips to curl into a feral smirk and I feel a little bit better that some of his old glee is returning back to him. 

I put a finger up my chin and pretend to think deeply just to infuriate him. “I did have a crush on Kyungsoo before so it isn’t like you’re really my first anything.”

As expected, Chanyeol’s smirk fades and he stares at me cooly, trying to prevent his face from scrunching in annoyance. “Kyungsoo doesn’t count. You didn’t date with Kyungsoo. You only dated me.”

I roll my eyes. “Why are you hellbent on this whole ‘you’re the only one’ subject anyway? So what if I’m socially inapt to the point I’ve never dated anyone before?”

“Because that makes me special!” He beams at me, as if I hadn’t just called myself socially inapt. “I’m the one that froze the icy walls of the good girl’s treasure heart! Woo! Woo! It calls for a celebration!”

I give him a leveled look. He just snickers amusedly at how none expressive my face is. I sigh, take a whole rotate around his body (which is still on the ground) and fixes the crumbled fabric of my school blazer to ready myself for my exit towards him. 

“Anyway, quit trying to change the subject. I went with you to a petting zoo as you wanted. I played the violin for you. I even entertained your gibberish. Now you have to condone to my wishes.”

He throws his head backwards and groan. “But I don’t want to go and meet your mom! Do you know how awkward that would be?”

I turn to him with my most iest face, my eyes narrowed in annoyance. “But my mom’s not awkward. And neither are you.”

He gives me a wide eyed look, a pretentious look of disbelief and disregard for himself painting the edges of his face. “You think because of my amazing life skills, my suave mouth, and my charming personality, that I’m incapable of being awkward. But I definitely am! Especially when it comes to meeting the parents!”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Exactly how many girls’ parents have you visited before?”

He quickly waves the matter away. “Not the point! Totally not the point.” He once agains throws himself at the floor and begins to wiggle around like a worm, whining out loud. “I just don’t want and go visit your mom! Yuuuuuuuji ah! Please have mercy on the fragility of my poor kiddo heart!”

“You know that you owe me, right?” I stare into his eyes, bold and irritated. “I worked on our project all by myself and had to give the teacher an excuse as to why you’re not presenting with me because you were too busy sulking away like a baby. I gave you an easy A when you promised me that you’ll do it for me instead.” I make sure my eyes are as hard as steel when I look at him. “The least you can do is give my mom a visit to see the guy that has been mentioned a one too many in the house.” I  pause a little; thinking about Chanyeol’s avid reluctance to join me meeting my mom today; and then add hesitantly. “You don’t have to tell her anything about us. You can introduce yourself as the guy I’m tutoring. She’d instantly fall for that.”

He immediately sits up at what I say, his eyes looking serious and doormat. “I’m not ashamed of you or anything. I don’t mind telling her exactly who I am to you. It’s just,” he points at himself. “Do you see me? I have five piercings in my ears. I have tats. I dye my hair a new color every few months, I smoke, and I don’t have a clue on how to interact with my parents, let alone parents of someone else’s. I’m the definition of that bad boy moms warn their daughters about.”

“You’re scared of impressing my mom?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing and I smile a little. “Wow, didn’t peg you as someone who’d care about bad first impressions as much as you’re making a fuss about.”

“I’m a very sensitive guy. I have the purest, silk-est heart—“

“My mom’s literally the least judgmental person in this whole entire world,” I interrupt him before he goes on a whim to compliment himself endlessly. “She wouldn’t judge you for the way you look.”

“But I’m more than looks, Yuji. And I don’t mean it in a good way.” He deadpans, pointing at himself and the bold way that he’s wearing his uniform in.

I understand that even though I keep telling myself that I know the kind of person Chanyeol is, he still keeps on surprising me with different layers that I never would have thought. Who’d think that under all that confidence of his, there’ll be an insecure boy who’s much more aware of his flaws that he’d like to admit? I stare at him from up to toe, admitting to myself that I judged him too when I first saw him, and too all of his personal preferences to the way he dressed and the way he held himself as snobbery and bad attitude. I