Chapter 3

Purple Rain

You’re in the middle of an important folio meeting when your phone starts ringing. It had been on silent mode, but that obviously didn’t stop it from vibrating against the polished wooden table, sounding an awful lot like a woodpecker drilling its beak into a tree.

Your hand immediately flies up to your phone’s side button to stop its vibrating. After a few more seconds, the ringing finally stops. The screen reads: Park Chanyeol — 11 missed calls.

Eleven. And it’s not even noon.

“If it’s an important call,” Junmyeon says, “you can take it outside.”

You can’t place the tone of his voice, but you can tell that he isn’t happy about the disruption.

“Sorry, sir.” You turn your phone off to make sure that no other calls interrupt the meeting. “It’s no one important. Let’s move on,” you say.

Junmyeon regards you for a moment, like he knows who just called you, but doesn’t say anything else. He averts his gaze and continues taking suggestions from the other staffers regarding the deadlines for the folio’s next publication.

Jihyun, who’s seated to your right, gives you a light kick under the table as if to ask what that whole ordeal is about. You turn to her and mouth, “Later.” She nods once and then shifts her attention back to the meeting.

You’ve been ignoring Chanyeol for days, ever since that night at the carnival. He hadn’t noticed it at first, and you can’t blame him, really; the two of you barely talk aside from his occasional visits, and even so, the two of you exchange more moans than words.

It’s not exactly difficult to avoid him. Fernflaw Hall, which houses Chanyeol’s department, the College of Music, is on the opposite end of campus. Not running into him intentionally should be a piece of cake.

But then Chanyeol had to make it hard by blowing up your phone at every chance he gets.

At first, he had only sent text messages. ‘Can I come over later?’ ‘I miss you.’ ‘Are you mad at me?’ ‘What did I do?’ ‘Can we talk about it?’ Those had been easy to ignore.

Phone calls are something else. For starters, Chanyeol never calls. He only ever texts you when he’s giving you a heads up when he’s coming over to your apartment or when he’s bored.

The delusional part of your brain thinks that this is his way of showing that he truly cares about you, that he’s not okay with the two of you not talking.

Whoa there, the part of your brain that’s still sane reminds you to slow down and face the music. The fact that he’s playing dumb as to why you’re ignoring him goes to show that he doesn’t care about you at all.

That hurt, even when it came from your own conscience, but it’s true.

“I wonder if our editor-in-chief is still with us,” Junmyeon’s voice interrupts your train of thought and reels you back into reality. His eyes are narrowed at you, the look of disappointment unmistakable in his face.

Your cheeks flare up in embarrassment. “Sir?”

“I asked if you’re contributing a piece to the next publication.”

“I d-don’t…” you stammer, “I haven’t thought about it, sir.”

Junmyeon sighs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. “I think that’s enough for today,” he announces as he closes his laptop. “I’d like to have a word with the editor-in-chief. The rest of you may leave.”

You sink into your seat while everybody else grabs their stuff and leaves the conference room. Jihyun throws you a worried glance, but you just nod as if to say that you can handle being chewed out by Junmyeon. Even the lowerclassmen are looking at you sympathetically.

Junmyeon is seated right across from you, at the other end of the long table. The distance between the two of you makes his stare even more intimidating, because you know for a fact that he’s not Junmyeon right now, the friend you get to hang out with on weekends and make jokes with. Right now he’s your professor, and the faculty adviser of the folio which you are editor-in-chief of. At this moment, he’s Mr. Kim.

You’re bracing yourself for a scolding, but the words that come out of Junmyeon’s lips are not what you were expecting.

“Are you okay?”

You look up at him. His brows are knitted together, but not in anger or disappointment — he looks… concerned. He leans forward, clasping his hands together as he rests his elbows on the table.

“Sir?”

“Is this about that guy? The one we saw at Cresmont?”

You look away, not wanting to meet his eyes. “No,” you lie. “I’m fine. Is that all, sir? If it is, you’ll have to excuse…” you say as you stand up and begin keeping your things inside your bag.

But Junmyeon orders you to sit down, even calling you by your surname — not Ms. Editor-in-Chief or any of the other playful nicknames he’d given you. That’s when you know that he’s being serious, and that he won’t take any deflection from you.

“I’m worried about you,” he says. “You flunked my quiz last Monday. I heard from your other professors that you’re doing poorly in your classes as of late. You’re not yourself.”

“You talk to the other professors about me?” you ask, offended. You know that professors tend to gossip about their students in the office, but hearing it straight from a professor himself doesn’t sit well with you.

“That’s beside the point.”

“Then what is your point, sir?”

Junmyeon looks at you blankly. He doesn’t seem to appreciate your sarcastic tone. “My point is,” he begins to say as he stands up and gathers his things, “is that you shouldn’t let some stupid boy ruin your academics. You’re smart. Stop letting your intelligence go to waste because of something so trivial.”

Trivial?

Who the hell does he think he is to call your pain trivial? Just because it’s about a guy, that makes it trivial?

“Whose side are you on?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I thought you were my friend. You saw me that night, how hurt I was. And you have the nerve to call it something trivial?”

Junmyeon walks over to you, his briefcase dangling by his hand on his side. His expression is still quite difficult to read, but you can tell that he’s not impressed with your outburst.

“I am your friend,” he says. “That’s why I gave you advice when you asked for one, even when I knew you didn’t need nor want it. What did I say?”

“That I needed to hear it straight from him,” you grumble.

“And you did. You have his answer. Is this how you’re going to answer him back? By throwing away your last term in college?”

“Jeez, you sound like my dad,” is all you can say while you roll your eyes at him.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Anger bubbles in your chest, but it’s not directed at Junmyeon — you’re angry at the fact that he’s right, that you shouldn’t be letting Chanyeol get in the way of far more important things. And if there’s one thing you hate, it’s being proven wrong. You’re proud like that.

You look at Junmyeon and he stares right back at you, a mix of worry and dismay swirling in his eyes. He looks his age when he frowns, and you realize that you’ve forgotten how much older he is than you because of how young he looks at thirty-two and how he never acts like it, only on campus.

Perhaps you ought to listen to him sometime, your subconscious nags at you.

You look away.

Junmyeon sighs. “I’m not saying that you can’t be sad about… stuff like that.” You can tell that he’s avoiding calling it trivial again. “All I’m saying is that there are emotions you don’t bring to campus. I’m saying this as your professor…”

“I know, sir.”

“...but also as your friend.”

Your eyes flicker back to him again, and his gaze is embedded with a deep emotion you can only describe as care.

Junmyeon cares about you, there’s no doubt about that.

You look away, and for some reason, your chest is on fire.

“Come on,” he says, breaking the silence. “You’ll be late for your next class.”

You stand up from your seat without saying anything else, and follow Junmyeon out of the conference room.

When you step outside, you see Jihyun talking to a tall guy, her brows furrowed like she’s arguing with him. She stops talking when she sees you and Junmyeon, and the guy she was talking to turns around to see what had caught her attention.

You freeze from where you stand when you realize who Jihyun was talking to.

Chanyeol looks at you, his eyes asking a million questions all at the same time, and then at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon watches him indifferently, but you can tell that he recognizes Chanyeol from the fair. He turns to you and says, “I’ll see you around.” He nods at Jihyun, too, and then he’s gone, ignoring Chanyeol as he walks away.

Chanyeol’s eyes follow Junmyeon as he disappears down the hall. He seems like he’s thinking of something, perhaps where he’d seen Junmyeon before…

“Chanyeol.” His head snaps in your direction. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re avoiding me.”

Jihyun butts in, throwing herself between you and Chanyeol, as if she knows that Chanyeol will cause a scene if she doesn’t intervene. “We’re just busy with the folio. We have a publication coming up.” She isn’t lying, but that isn’t exactly the truth either.

Chanyeol doesn’t seem convinced. “Can we talk?” He throws Jihyun a cold look. “Alone.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Take the hint,” you say, standing a little bit straighter. “Let’s go, Jihyun.”

You grab Jihyun by the wrist and leave Chanyeol standing there, and you can feel his eyes boring through your back as you walk away.

* * *

When you arrive home that night, Chanyeol is waiting right outside your apartment building.

He’s sitting on the steps that lead to the lobby like he usually does, his elbows resting on his knees while his face is buried in his hands. His head perks up when he hears your footsteps approaching. He looks at you with tired eyes.

You almost feel sorry for him. Almost. But then you remember the smile plastered on his lips as he kissed that girl at the fair, and suddenly, you feel nauseous.

“Go home, Chanyeol,” you tell him as you ascend the stairs, walking right past him.

He stands up and grabs your hand. “Can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” he asks. His tone is ragged, like he’s trying not to cry. You’ve never heard him like this.

You glance at your wristwatch. “It’s late. Let’s talk about this some other time.”

“No. I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

You sigh. You’d figured you had to confront him one way or another, but you really hoped that he would just leave you alone, act like he never knew you, and continue seeing whoever that girl is. That sounds less painful than whatever the hell he’s doing right now, acting like you suddenly mean the whole world to him.

“Please.”

You look him straight in the eye, pulling your hand away from his grasp. “What are we, Chanyeol?”

“What are you talking—”

“What am I to you?”

Chanyeol purses his lips. You can tell by the way his pupils are shaking that he doesn’t know how to answer that. He looks… scared. But you can’t figure out what exactly he’s scared of.

“What am I to you?” you repeat.

You wait, and wait, and wait. Chanyeol never answers the question.

Your eyes are stinging now, tears pooling in them and blurring your vision. Chanyeol brushes away a tear as it slides down your cheek. He looks absolutely pained, but you can’t seem to understand why. Then you realize that this is the first time he’s seen you cry.

You swat his hand away from your face. “You can’t even answer a question as simple as that.”

“I don’t…” he begins to say. “We’re not…”

“We’re not what?” you demand.

“We’re not together like that.”

And there it is.

Out of all the reactions you could’ve given him, the one that escapes your lips is what you least expected to — you let out a laugh. It’s a sad and pathetic and hollow laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

“We’re not together like that, but you can dictate which boys I see while you go around kissing and doing god knows what else to other girls?” you say with such venom that Chanyeol takes a step back.

He clenches his jaw. “What are you talking about?”

“Stop acting dumb, Chanyeol!”

You’re screaming now, and the people passing by on the street are starting to look at you nervously, but you couldn’t care any less. You’re so angry that being embarrassed is the last thing on your mind right now.

You and Chanyeol stare at each other for a few heartbeats. The tension is so thick in the air that it’s almost electrifying.

“You were at the fair,” he finally says.

More tears stream down your face as you remember that goddamn night, how he had his arm draped around her shoulder. Your chest is filled to the brim with pain and anger that you can’t think straight.

“You could’ve just stopped seeing me,” you say. “I would’ve understood, because, like you said, we’re not together like that. But then…” You wipe your tears away furiously with the back of your hand. “Then you had to go looking for me. You just had to send those texts. You just had to leave about a million missed calls. You just had to show up right outside the folio meeting room even when your building is all the way at the other end of campus. And for what? To get my hopes up again? To make me believe that you actually care about me? For what, Chanyeol? For what?”

Chanyeol stands there like he’d just been stabbed in the gut, completely dumbfounded.

“I didn’t… I thought you were seeing someone else, too,” he says in such a small voice that you barely hear it.

“What?”

“The professor you were with this morning,” he says, “isn’t he the one who dropped you off that night?”

Then it hit you. That’s why Chanyeol was looking at Junmyeon like that earlier, like he’s trying to remember where he’d seen him before. Chanyeol recognized Junmyeon from the night he drove you home, your first weekend at Siwon’s shop.

Chanyeol knew all along.

“Chanyeol. He’s a professor,” you say.

You’re not even sure if you saw Junmyeon in that way. How can Chanyeol jump to a conclusion like that? He hasn’t even met Junmyeon.

“That didn’t stop other people before.”

You purse your lips, knowing that he’s talking about Ms. Jeon’s case from last term. But you’re not like that. Junmyeon isn’t like that… Right?

“Is that what you think of me?” you ask. Another wave of tears comes crashing. You have a feeling that your eyes are going to be swollen until tomorrow.

“Why should I think otherwise?”

Something snaps inside of you — your heart, probably. And maybe your patience, too.

Anger swells up in your chest. As if it isn’t enough that this entire thing hinges on a misunderstanding, Chanyeol stands there, accusing you of something he doesn’t even have any proof of but a car ride home that could’ve meant a million other things. How dare he compare that to a kiss that you saw with your own eyes?

“Because,” you begin to say as you angrily brush your tears away, “I’m in love with you, you dense piece of . That’s why you should think otherwise.”

Chanyeol blinks, completely taken aback.

“I’m tired,” you add. “Chanyeol, I’m so tired. I’m absolutely sick of talking in riddles with you.”

His eyes have turned red, but the tears don’t come. Chanyeol has always been good at holding his feelings back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice beginning to quiver. “I’m sorry if I keep on confusing you, if—”

“What am I to you?” you cut him off, repeating your question earlier. “If you’re really sorry, answer that.”

Chanyeol just stares at you, biting his lip.

“See?” A dejected chuckle falls from your lips. “It’s a simple question, Chanyeol. And yet you can’t even answer it. But silence is an answer too, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by the sound of the lobby door opening.

Your doorman appears in the doorway. He flashes a worried look at you, and then turns to narrow his eyes at Chanyeol.

“Everything okay?” Mr. Bong asks.

“Yeah,” you try to sound upbeat, but the effort is undermined by how coarse your voice sounds. You dab your tears away with the cuffs of your sweater in a pathetic attempt to hide that you’ve been crying. You look at Chanyeol, and a feeling in your gut tells you that you won’t see him for a while. “Goodbye, Chanyeol.”

You head inside the building without turning back.

* * *

The Watering Hole hasn’t changed after all these years. It has the same musty smell of alcohol, wood, and cigarettes that you remember from the first time you’d been here. A thin veil of smoke still drifts all around the bar like fog, only that it’s caused by patrons smoking and not natural vapor. The place is as loud as ever; drunk laughter and bottles clinking and the sound of wood hitting ivory from the pool tables bounce off the pub’s walls.

The last time you’d been here was about a year ago, that night when you told Chanyeol… You shake your head, suppressing the memory in your mind. Whatever the hell you and Chanyeol were, it’s over, you remind yourself. You’re here to have fun.

It had been Kyungsoo’s idea to come here, which is very unlike him, but you figure that even the most reserved people like him want to loosen up once in a while. He goes to the bar to order your usual, a barrel of caramel beer and a platter of glazed chicken wings, while you and Jihyun head to the booth where the four — well, three now, minus Chanyeol — of you always sit whenever you come here to drink.

“How’s your piece coming along?” Jihyun asks as the two of you sit.

You flinch at her question. With all the craziness with Chanyeol and your midterm exams, you’ve completely forgotten about the poem you’re supposed to write for the folio’s next publication. “I haven’t started,” you admit.

“Mr. Kim is so going to kill you.”

No doubt, you think to yourself. It actually pisses you off how Junmyeon always seems to expect a lot from you. That day he scolded you after the folio meeting a couple of months ago… You understand where he’s coming from, being your professor and all, but sometimes, you wish he would cut you some slack and allow you to be sad about normal college stuff.

But, at the same time, you’re afraid of disappointing him. For some weird reason, you want to make him proud, to look at you like you’ve done well. Your chest feels warm just thinking about it, and you don’t understand why. You never cared for any professor’s validation before, so why start now?

Kyungsoo returns with three huge beer mugs, trailed by a familiar guy carrying a beer dispenser fashioned like a miniature barrel.

“Heechul?” you ask in disbelief. “You’re still here?”

The waiter smiles, revealing a mischievous grin that you’ve come to know after years of frequenting the bar, a grin that looks like he’s always up to no good. “I haven’t seen you three in a while,” says Heechul. “Graduated yet?”

“On our last term,” Kyungsoo replies.

Heechul nods as he sets down the beer barrel on the booth table. “Aw, does that mean I won’t see you guys anymore after August?”

“We’ll visit even after graduation,” you promise.

“Sounds good,” Heechul says with a smile. He looks around and narrows his eyes, as if he’s finally realizing that your group is one person short. “Where’s the tall kid? The music major?” he asks.

The three of you exchange a look.

“We don’t really see him around anymore,” Kyungsoo says before anybody else can answer. It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s better than nothing.

Heechul shrugs and he leaves the three of you to attend to other patrons, but really, The Watering Hole’s regulars don’t see him as a waiter — everyone regards him as a friend, and Heechul’s an easy guy to like.

Kyungsoo starts filling the mugs with beer, the mouthwatering smell of caramel already filling the booth. You’ve planned to take it easy tonight and drink lightly, but now as you watch the golden brown liquid swirl and foam around the glass, you’re starting to think that a few more refills won’t hurt.

When all of the glasses are full, Jihyun leads the toast as she always does.

“To happiness,” she says.

“To happiness,” you and Kyungsoo answer in unison.

The three of you touch your glasses together and a satisfying clink resounds. You all take a big swig of your drinks, sighing contentedly after. It’s been a while since you’ve felt at ease like this.

You wonder if what you said to Heechul a while ago, about coming back here even after graduation, would turn out to be true. You sure hope so.

The Watering Hole has been a big part of your college life. The bar’s black walls have witnessed so much from the past four years: your first time being blackout drunk, the tears you shed when you failed Stat during freshman year, even that stupid drunken confession that catalyzed the entire show with Chanyeol. If its walls could talk, it would have enough stories to last a lifetime — every story of every college kid that has ever found solace within it.

Then it hit you that this might be your last time drinking here as a college student. You only have about two and a half months before the term ends, and another month after that comes graduation. There are so many things that are slipping by, some of which you’ve probably done for the last time, and you have no idea because all you’re thinking about is that stupid guy who doesn’t even know what you are to him.

Junmyeon was right, after all. It’s time for you to focus on important stuff, and not on people who aren’t sure about your place in their life. You deserve at least that much.

“Guys,” you say, “Let’s come back here after finals. I don’t want this night to be my last time here before we graduate.”

Jihyun and Kyungsoo nod in agreement.

“It’s weird how time flies so fast, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo asks. Leave it to him to always be philosophical. “I honestly can’t wrap my head around the fact that four years have passed already… I swear the first time we drank here feels like yesterday.”

Jihyun nods again, pouting. She grabs her mug again, downs the rest of her beer, and then refills her own glass from the barrel. Her cheeks are suspiciously stained a light shade of pink even after just one glass, but then again, she’s the lightest drinker among all of you.

“Isn’t this the first time we went here without Chanyeol?” she asks.

It’s an innocent question, and she sounds like she’s genuinely curious, but that doesn’t stop your chest from feeling like it weighs a million pounds.

“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” Kyungsoo muses, “it does feel weird that the space next to you is empty.” He points to your side of the booth, which feels awkwardly spacious now that they’ve pointed out that the person who usually sits beside you is nowhere to be found.

“We should’ve invited him then,” you say jokingly, but anyone with two ears can hear the unmistakable bitterness in your tone.

Jihyun chuckles as she takes another swig of her beer. “You’re always like this,” she says.

“Like what?”

“You always joke about Chanyeol like it’s not a big deal but we all know how much it’s been hurting you to be in this weird push and pull relationship with him,” Jihyun explains. “You can be sad about it, you know. whatever Mr. Kim said. You have every right to be upset.”

Before you can answer, Kyungsoo chimes in. “‘Push and pull relationship’ is a nicer way of saying ‘friends with benefits,’” he says as if you don’t already understand what Jihyun was implying.

“Ha-ha.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. Kyungsoo is a pretty reserved person, but he can be teasing when he wants to, and he can be very good at it. Unfortunately, that comes at the expense of his friends such as yourself.

“Have the two of you talked?” Jihyun asks, steering the conversation back on course. “After that whole fiasco in front of your apartment building? God, I can’t imagine what Mr. Bong’s face looked like when that happened.”

You wince at Jihyun’s last sentence as the memory of that night resurfaces in your mind. “Chanyeol tried to reach out. Left some calls and texts, stuff like that,” you admit, “but… I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to respond to any of them. I kept thinking, ‘If I gave whatever this is another chance, will something change or will it just be the same thing all over again?’ Eventually, the latter seemed more realistic, so I just let it be. It is what it is.”

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows and nods, clearly impressed. “You can be really smart if you chose to be, you know.”

“Stop picking on me!” you complain, but you can’t help but crack a smile at Kyungsoo’s teasing. He isn’t like this on most days, so it’s very refreshing to see when he lets out his playful side once in a while.

Jihyun tilts her head on one side, like she’s realized something. “You don’t seem that sad about it anymore, though?”

“Hmm.” Kyungsoo squints at you, trying to see what Jihyun meant. “She’s right,” he decides after a while. “You seem… okay. Not entirely happy, but okay. That’s weird.”

You shrug while finishing your drink and then helping yourself to another refill. “I figured Mr. Kim was right,” you say. It feels weird referring to Junmyeon as Mr. Kim in front of your friends, but you figure that referring to him as simply Junmyeon would raise some eyebrows and some questions which you aren’t ready to answer. “Chanyeol… If he really cared about me in the first place, it wouldn’t have come to this. Like I said, it is what it is. I can’t waste my last few months in college being sad about him.”

“You’ve grown up a lot,” Kyungsoo says, looking at you fondly. His choice of words make it seem like he’s still teasing you, but his tone and his eyes indicate otherwise. He seems genuinely proud of how mature you’re handling this, and it is something to be proud of; you’ve always been the most stubborn in your circle, and this is probably the first time you’re thinking logically instead of letting your emotions get the better of you like they usually do.

“God, can we not talk about Chanyeol anymore? It’s kinda ruining the night,” you complain playfully.

With that, the three of you toast again — to making sure that your last couple of months in college are filled with nothing but happy memories, to finishing the term strong, and most importantly, to friendship.

The night passes in a blur. More nostalgic stories are exchanged, more maniacal laughters are let out, and more beer barrels are ordered. You’ve lost count of how many glasses of beer you’ve had, and despite being a decent drinker, your field of vision is starting to become more and more foggy.

Jihyun has stopped drinking after the second beer barrel. She’s now leaning against Kyungsoo, her face completely flushed red, and you can tell by the lack of focus in her eyes that she won’t remember most of what happened tonight by tomorrow. When she starts giggling by herself when no one has said anything even remotely funny, you and Kyungsoo exchange a knowing look.

“I think I should get her home,” Kyungsoo says. He knows how to hold his alcohol, but even his speech is beginning to get a bit slurry.

You chuckle. “I think so too.”

“Will you be okay? How ‘bout we all leave together?”

You tap the beer barrel, which still has enough for about two refills. “I wanna finish this,” you say. “I’ll be okay, Soo. I’m always last to leave whenever we go out.”

Kyungsoo purses his lips, clearly uncomfortable at the idea of leaving you all by yourself, but when his girlfriend’s giggles grow louder and louder, he sighs as he realizes that he doesn’t really have much of a choice.

“Don’t stay out too late,” he reminds you. “Text me the plate number of your cab or whatever. Message me when you get home, too.”

“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes at him jokingly.

Kyungsoo half-supports, half-drags Jihyun out of the bar, leaving you all alone in the booth as you finish off the last beer barrel. The crowd of patrons has now thinned out, you realize. You fish your phone out of your purse and look at the time, nearly choking at your beer when the clock reads 2:01 a.m.

Is it really that late already?

You toss the phone back in your bag and get back to drinking your beer mindlessly. The caramel beer, which was once sweet, tastes like water now that you’ve had so many glasses of it. You’re sober enough to know that when alcohol begins to taste like nothing, it’s a clear sign that you’re drunk. If Chanyeol were here… you start to think, but then…

…everything goes dark.

You must’ve dozed off for a few minutes because when your eyes flutter open, the bar’s nearly empty. Waiters are starting to flip stools over the tables. A lanky man about your age is playing by himself at the pool table. The music is more somber now, fit for closing time.

Instinctively, you reach for your purse… but it isn’t there.

You stare at the empty space beside you for a few heartbeats, trying to remember if it’s really the last place where you put your belongings, before you realize that you’ve been robbed.

“E-excuse me,” you ask a waiter as he passes by your booth. “Is Heechul still here?”

“His shift ended a while ago,” the waiter replies, slightly annoyed that you’ve interrupted whatever he’s doing.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you, but what time is it? I lost my phone.”

The waiter glances at his wristwatch, and then back at you. “It’s past three o’clock,” he answers. “We close in a few minutes.”

Before you can ask him if you could use his phone, he briskly walks away. You look around. The remaining patrons are either as drunk as you are or look extremely sketchy. You decide that it’s better to ask for help outside than to try your luck with these suspicious-looking people, so you stand up from your seat and head toward the exit.

With much difficulty, you’re able to walk to the convenience store just across the street from The Watering Hole. You’ve been here countless times before, always after a night of drinking, but it’s your first time coming here to ask for help.

The brightly-lit store’s blinding white lights nearly give your drunk self vertigo, but you eventually manage to approach the clerk manning the register. The young cashier gives you a weird look as you walk toward him, and you know that it’s probably because you look and smell drunk. If you were him, you’d back up a couple of inches too.

“Can I help you?” he asks in a tone that makes it quite obvious that he has no intention at all of helping you and that he’s asking just to be polite.

“I’m sorry, b-but I got my phone and my money stolen a-and I was wondering if you c-could…”

The clerk shakes his head before you can even finish your sentence. “Please step aside, miss. You’re holding up the line.”

In normal circumstances, you would’ve cussed him out for being such a rude turd, but you’re too drunk and sad and frustrated to even say anything, so you simply walk out of the store and sit on the sidewalk as you try your best to weigh your options given that your brain is completely fried from all the beer you’ve drank.

You can try and walk home, but you doubt that you’ll ever make it back alive judging by the way the ground beneath your feet keeps moving like those huge walkalators in groceries. Your parents are so going to kill you when they find out what happened tonight, and suddenly, taking your chances by attempting to walk home doesn’t seem so bad compared to the thought of your mom and dad giving you the lecture of a lifetime (which is actually fitting, because they’re both professors).

Just as you’re about to lose hope and cry pathetically on the sidewalk, a pair of feet walks right up to you.

You look up to see to whom the feet belong to, and you’re greeted by an outstretched hand offering you a bottle of purple Gatorade and a familiar face that always seems to find you in the worst situations.

You nearly cry out of relief.

“I find it weird that we keep meeting like this in unfortunate circumstances,” Junmyeon says in a serious tone, but his lips are tugging upward at the corners. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

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pcychedelic
[PURPLE RAIN]

the special chapter in junmyeon’s POV is here! apologies for taking so long to update. please read the notes at the end of the chapter as i’ve explained my reasons there. thank you.

Comments

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Baembi
#1
Chapter 11: nooo chanyeol nd joohyun wants to in their relationship now like wow they have a lot of guts after they hurt the both of them TT
dreamshun
1813 streak #2
Chapter 11: chanyeol, you lil mf 😭😭 i knew he was sus 😭
dreamshun
1813 streak #3
Chapter 10: i really feed bad for baek and hyeran T_T
and oh? we have a joohyun cameo 😳
dreamshun
1813 streak #4
Chapter 9: *this user's soul has left her body*
dreamshun
1813 streak #5
Chapter 8: baekhyun is such a nice brother T_T
ngl, the only junmyeon fic that made me heart race as if im going to get a heart attack is this fic 😭💛 every time i read the scenes of junmyeon, your writing does something to my insides and i LOVE that feeling 😭👌🏻
dreamshun
1813 streak #6
Chapter 7: i highly suspect chanyeol for the photo exposing our otp 🤺
dreamshun
1813 streak #7
Chapter 6: so many heart flutterings istg 😭😭 and the kiss at the end-- i think im going to d1e. IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL!!
dreamshun
1813 streak #8
Chapter 5: i guessed it right too~ ofc a c baek has a c sis, hehe 😌👌🏻
dreamshun
1813 streak #9
Chapter 4: the poem was so beautiful 😭😭 and omg my heart was having a marathon in the last segment AND THEN I READ THE LAST LINE SHSJS NOW IM DED 😭 JUN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY HEART!!!😫😫