Face My Fears

Tears.

Tears obscure my now-moistened cheeks.

Is it too early to wake up from this nightmare?

My blurred vision settles upon keys—a row of them—plenty of white and less of black.

I try to leave, but I'm unable to move.

I'm glued to this stool, and my trembling hands move towards the keys without my consent.

The more I close in, the more the agony worsens around my heart.

"Please, someone wake me," I utter, as if anyone can hear me.

I look around and what do I see? Infinite darkness. I'm alone.

My index finger presses upon a black key.

I hear a bland thump—no melodic sound.

I repeat the action more than once, pressing harder and harder until one finger turns into three, and those three morphs into fists.

The keys fly off and land on the imperceptible ground until there's nothing left.

The pieces have fallen, and without them, this instrument has no soul; no heart; no life.

What's left of it? Emptiness. Meaninglessness.

Could the pieces line up, again?

That's what I dreamt of last night—more so, what I can remember.

The meaning; it's a symbolic representation of my fear(s).

In fact, there was another nightmare—different from that one—and it was much worse. To my dismay, a detailed recollection of that one is unattainable.

This whole week seems to flow naturally, like water in a running river, or so I thought. That is, until a disruption finally breaks through the once-calm surface, destroying any sliver of relaxation or contentment.

Instead of a soft ripple, it's a destructive wave.

Then again, I'm foolish to expect nothing will arise to shatter this layer of positivity that I've developed—merely a fragile film laced over my heart.

A film that could be scraped off with ease, like one of those scratch-off lotto tickets.

My mind runs and runs, searching for a reason for these repetitive nightmares, but I never reach a conclusion. I know the reason behind why they return, but why do they never stop? Posing as a distraction from it all, my friends are a huge help, but if it never ends, then would I be making any progress?

If this is an issue that I'm always going to deal with, will I be strong enough to face it head-on? It continues to partially destroy me, like a stab with every occurrence, gearing up to initiate one final blow. As if it's some challenge that I must face every day, testing me; playing me; ruining my chances of waking up with a clear head and dry cheeks.

"Yah, are you okay, Taehyung?" It was Bogum. His hand hovers and touches my shoulder, staring straight into my exhausted eyes, trying to find a reasonable answer. Today, unlike others, they're bleak, lost, and blank, and I believe he notices that difference. "What's wrong?"

Jimin asked me the same question this morning:

It was the crack of dawn; I woke up at six and never went back to sleep because I couldn't. So, I waited until Aunt Kim went to work. Until then, I laid in the middle of my bed like a figurine—frozen in-place—and stared at the ceiling for an hour. I was afraid to go back to sleep. I cried for five minutes, but that was enough. Once I heard the front door close, it was seven in the morning. Aunt Kim was gone. I went downstairs to eat the breakfast that was left in the fridge because I was hungry. Halfway through, I vomited everything up, so I never ate, again. As unusual as that occurrence is as of late, Jimin wakes up as usual and waltzes into my room to wake me up, but difference is, I already am.

"Taehyung? What's wrong?"

Like a repetitive nuisance, I could still hear the question echo in my brain. The worry was clear as day in his tone.

I know Jimin wants to help, but I didn't answer him. I only shrugged, got dressed, and spent an awful day at school.

Usually, I don't feign happiness, but I had a reason. I wouldn't speak unless I was directly spoken to. Bogum, Joohyun, and Hoseok initiated conversations with me, but my constant silence throughout the day was a major aid in having others leave me alone. Every class that passes, I sleep, sleep, and sleep some more. If I wasn't dozing off, I popped my headphones into my ears and listened away.

What I needed was a distraction, and that it was.

It was temporary calmness.

For Joohyun, I acted like I was okay. I would play along with her casual teasing, flash her a smile, cough up a believable laugh, but although she—in fact—creates a wonderfully great distraction through it all—I still strongly felt it drilling into my heart. It was the mixture of sadness and tiredness that overpowered the momentary liveliness I'd feel when I'm with her or Bogum.

Though, unlike Bogum, Joohyun had the tendency to worry about me, especially if she detects any change of mood. Bogum would notice, but he wouldn't question it until he felt the need to, like right now. I don't like when others worry about me. It's worse when Joohyun does because she's in the blue about everything that's occurred in my life. I'm not ready to tell her my story. Even then, I know Joohyun cares for me, so I display a façade of exuberance so she wouldn't have to question it.

Amidst all that useless effort of masking my truth, I stand in front of the coffee shop that Bogum's grandparents own, feeling too exhausted to fake anymore emotions.

"Taehyung," Bogum shakes my shoulder, and I slowly make eventual eye-contact with him. I blink once or twice, and his features render in. "You look like you're going to be sick, what is going on with you?"

"Nothing," I clear my throat and straighten my posture. Maybe, I do have a little energy left to hide the drowsiness and the inner sorrows. "Are we going to head inside or what? I'm getting quite antsy."

"Yeah, I just..." He trails off—concerned, and I hate it—whilst observing me intensely. "Tell me—are you doing alright?"

Ever since the clean-up last weekend, Bogum and I have hung out more often, especially during school hours. Since Joohyun is busy with student government and other supposed presidential duties, I use the time to get to know Bogum. We've grown closer due to how simplistic connecting with the guy could be. I learned various surface-level things about him, like his mannerisms, his gestures, his decent jokes, and other minor details of his personality. Not so much his story, though. Perhaps, soon, I'll find out.

On Monday and Wednesday, me, Joohyun, and Bogum walked home from school, chatting and enjoying each other's company like normal best friends would. It's become a thing that we've started to do. By sticking around and listening in on occasional conversations, I learned more deeply about their friendship, too. I was intrigued by it, so I observe them quite often.

By doing so, it's become clear that they have a brother-sister type of relationship. There doesn't seem to be a shred of romantic interest, but that's not definite—that's only a mere assumption. Despite being the same age, Bogum tends to speak words of wisdom to her, making sure that she does the right things and makes the correct choices, even if she doesn't need to hear it.

Yesterday, after school, this random dude named Suho came up to Joohyun and knelt on one knee in the middle of the hallway. You should've seen my face: I thought he was going to propose to her, but he just pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind his back and presented it to her. With pleading eyes, the poor guy—unbeknownst of what to come—asked her to go on a date with him. Joohyun rejected him kindly and overlooked the generous gift of flowers. Come to think of it, I still don't understand why—he was very good-looking, having actor-like features and all, which seemed to be her type. Even after that rejection, he was persistent. Bogum stepped forward, informed Suho to accept her decision, and urged him to get lost.

That's when I learned another feature of Bogum and Joohyun's friendship: he was very overprotective of her.

Bogum is a serious, calm-and-collected type of person. He spews jokes here-and-there, but overall, he's very quiet and well-mannered. I believe that's why I connect with him so well; we're very alike.

Apart from knowing my story, that is the main reason why he's become the only person that I trust. Joohyun could be one of those people, but she doesn't know about the tragedy, my issues, my sadness, my nightmares, or anything else that I've gone through. Just surface-level information—details that you can retain by observing, and most of all: things I've told her. However, that can easily change in a split-second. The time will come when my mindset will shift, but right now, Bogum is the person I've connected to on all levels.

Coming to know the many aspects of Bogum, I still remained unsure about describing what happened last night—specifically, the double-edge sword of nightmares, the anxiousness, and the fear that led me to stay awake for hours until school came along.

There was a slight flicker in my mind, and a decision was made.

"You didn't get enough sleep last night, did you?" It appears that he can already tell, given my outward appearance. At least, one part of it was brought to the surface, but I wonder: what made it obvious? My languid walk? The sunken bags under my eyes? Or, maybe, it was the fact that I'm incapable of walking around with my eyes wide open for more than five minutes.

"What makes you think that?" I sarcastically ask, curving my lips into a lighthearted smirk. I'd like to carry somewhat of a comedic mentality, despite feeling like I haven't gotten a sliver of sleep in over two days.

"Well, for starters, you look like ," I heave a weak chuckle at that one. "Secondly, after school ended earlier, Joohyun wouldn't stop ranting about how many times she had to wake you up during Mrs. Asuna's class."

Ah, yes, that reminds me of how irritated I was. Due to a night of technically zero sleep, as mentioned before, I took several naps in most of my classes, and Mrs. Asuna's was one of them. As Joohyun is my permanent partner for the year, she sits right beside me—all the time. Even when it's not a lab day. To my dismay, this causes her to be ultra-aware of when I fall asleep, and if I ever do, she shakes me awake as if something catastrophic was occurring outside. Usually, she would ignore my snoozing, but since Mrs. Asuna's table is right in front of us, eyes-peeled for any unacceptable behavior, Joohyun wasn't going to let me nap. If she did, that would taint her presidential title, in which I've come to respect—as slow as that process was.

I clear my throat into a fist, "she wasn't worried or anything, was she?"

"I don't think so," Bogum assures, and I sigh in relief. "Joohyun just thinks you need to start sleeping well at night—" Well, obviously, but if only she knew, right? "—You do realize that you can get penalized for doing so, Taehyung. Be lucky that she's helping you out because she can easily write you up herself. For as much as you sleep during class, I'm surprised you haven't gotten detention, yet."

"Those teachers just don't want to mess with me after I told Mr. Heechul off on the first day of school," I joke half-heartedly, and he joins in by dabbling in a short laugh. I've been spitting out jokes here-and-there to compensate for acting rude, as it tends to drift people further away from noticing how broken I am. "Besides, I'm sure they've already figured out that even if they warn me about sleeping, the chances of me listening are extremely low."

"That's not the point. I'm serious, man," It's clear that Bogum can look past the purposeful humor, unlike others. That's another thing that I've learned about him—he has a great ability to surpass the lies and the cover-ups. "You and I both know that you're in deep if you continue doing that."

"I know, I know."

"Look, are you sure you're okay with heading inside? If you're not exactly feeling up to today's setting, then tell me." I would love to say that I'm not because all I want to do is go home and head off to bed. Thing is, I promised Bogum that I'd be here and greet his grandparents. I heard that they're excited to see me. To think that years ago, me, Joohyun, and Bogum would often come to this shop and eat loads of meals doesn't help, either. My decision was set. "I'll tell my grandparents and the others that you're not feeling well, alright? You can come some other—"

"No, Bogum, I'm alright. Relax." I say, appreciating his concern, but it wasn't necessary. "I may be unwell, but I've looked forward to coming here ever since we spoke about it. There's no need to worry so much. I'm doing this. It's for the better."

I hear my best friend sigh, but I don't look over at him.

Instead, I breathe in the details of the coffee shop. My curious eyes fixate on the storefront that was titled with a cute, catchy name—Park's Cup O' Coffee. Typical, but wholesome. It was centered in the Sunset Destiny plaza, so that calls for strenuous days and working late-nights. Bogum often mentions how busy the shop is on weekdays, and since the location is obviously hectic to begin with, I'm not surprised. It tends to be even worse on weekends because of students out-and-about with friends and family.

It was a Friday afternoon, so it was bustling with numerous customers that consistently flooded in-and-out of the breakfast diner. It ranges from groups of students, families, and occasional couples. In front of us was an outdoor seating-area that stretched across the front of the shop, and every single table was taken. I haven't taken a glimpse inside, but the store's exterior gives off an aura of coziness and a source of neighborly energy. It tugs pedestrians to step inside and give it a try.

Though, while contemplating to step inside, there's one thought that races to my mind:

"Is Joohyun here?"

"Yes, she's helping my grandparents a little," Bogum says. "Or, so that's the reason she uses..."

"Isn't she off today?"

"You know her—the girl doesn't stop working, even when you tell her to," I originally thought there was no room for a smile to grace my features, but it turns out I was wrong. "I'd like to believe that she's working her heart out, but I don't think that's the entire reason why."

I wipe it off and glance over. "What are you implying? Is there something going on with her?"

He hums, nodding his head. "Hoseok's here, dude."

So, Joohyun's busying herself on purpose? Is that what he's insinuating?

"Let's go," I proceed to step into the seating-area whilst passing several occupied tables. Sensing Bogum follow-suit, I heave a calming, deep breath and roll up the sleeves of my white button-up shirt. Yeah, I know, surprising, right? I finally wear something that's not a t-shirt and khakis. I figured if I was meeting Bogum's grandparents, I'd like to dress up just a little bit out of my comfort-zone.

Bogum's hand wraps around my bicep, so I look over my shoulder.

"I would like to remind you that my grandparents know about...your situation." Bogum whispers in a secretive manner as I open the door, causing a horrendously loud bell to ring. "They know not to bring anything up, especially around Joohyun or the others. I'm just reassuring you, so if you were expecting to be questioned, that's not going to happen."

"Sounds good."

The cold, air-conditioning breeze splashes against my face, waking up my senses a little bit more. The sweet aroma of coffee, pancakes, and French toast hits my nostrils in an instant. The scent reminds my stomach that I haven't eaten in however-many hours, and I build a giant appetite at the mere thought. As Bogum and I pass a handful of tables, my mouth starts to water hopelessly at my findings. It was difficult to not examine the meals that are laid out in large quantities, glistening like gold that I so badly wanted to snatch.

At the glimpse of some perfectly done crepes, several waffles glazed with maple-syrup, and fluffy scrambled eggs, I've concluded that coming here was the best decision I've ever made.

The uncertainty of when I was able to scarf down on a meal was a dilemma and a torture.

I place a hand over my stomach that roars and grumbles like I haven't eaten in years.

I'm officially starving.

"Kim Taehyung?" I forced every sliver of my being to turn away from the various amounts of food on every table, and just as I thought I was failing, I eventually succeeded.

At the summoning of my name, I managed to make immediate eye-contact with an older woman—a woman that appears like she's in her seventies. I can't decipher whether she's in her highs or lows. I blink a couple of times, because I don't recognize her, but I could automatically tell that this was Bogum's grandmother.

The wrinkles around her cheeks and her eyes triple as she sends me a small, comforting smile that wraps around my heart with tenderness and care. It was like a reassurance that although I don't recollect her, I once knew her. There was no way that I could feel out of place.

My gaze flicks to the cane in one of her hands as she approaches me slowly. Upon reaching me, she takes both my hands in her skinny, bony ones. I don't mind it, so I just smile tiredly in return. 

I glance at Bogum who seems content, before staring back into this woman's kind eyes. They were filled with wisdom and certainty, like she knows all of life's trivial patterns and tribulations. Seeping deeper, I notice that there was something so motherly about Mrs. Park that it warms my heart like a campfire on a frigid, winter night.

Awakening back to reality, I clear my throat and plaster a lip-smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Park," I bow my head respectfully. She drops my hands, and next thing I know, they reach up to cup my cheeks. I'm partially stunned by this gesture because 1) I didn't expect it, and 2) I can see the affection and admiration in the way that she studies me.

"Grandma, don't," Bogum pleads for his grandmother to stop for some reason. Then, I begin to understand why. Seeing as I don't know this woman too well, he may think this is either too much or have come off as weird. It doesn't bother me, so I reassure him by waving a low, dismissive hand.

"You have grown so fondly, Taehyung."

"Thank you."

My exhausted smile widens.

"I'm very happy that you've returned." She releases her gentle grip on my cheeks and smiles like a caring mother would. Her quick eyes dart between mine, as if she was conducting a mental image of my features. "Months ago, I can't tell you how quickly Bogum ran to me and his grandfather, telling us that you had come back after so much time has passed. Initially, I couldn't believe the damn news, but now that I see you here now, all I can do is think about how much you've grown and matured. It's been over ten years, you know?"

A long, ten years, indeed.

I laugh fondly. "Yes, I do. It's hard to believe, sometimes, but I feel welcomed. Everyone has treated me well ever since I've returned. In a way, I'm glad that I'm here. Even if...um..."

I'm unsure if it's the sleep deprivation or the obnoxious hunger talking, but my mind goes completely blank. For some odd reason, I was going to bring up the unfortunate accident and the aftermath.

"It's okay, Taehyung," Mrs. Park sends me a sympathetic smile and clutches onto my hands, once more. With a slight squeeze, she says, "We're all glad that you're here, too. I'm speaking for Bogum, your friends, his grandfather, and myself, when I say that we'll continue to make you feel welcome here. No matter what. I promise. I hope you know that Bogum and Joohyun are the most content of them all. Those two will not stop talking about you."

"Ma," Bogum whines. He's embarrassed, it seems.

"Oh, hush, is it not true?"

My lips form into an entertained smile as I peer back at Mrs. Park, observing her every gesture and message. From the little time that I've stood here, I could pinpoint several things about her, all conjoining to make a wonderful guardian.

Mrs. Park is kind, warmhearted, and caring. Judging by the cooking apron that she's wearing, doused in light grease, blemishes, and oils, I can tell that she's a hard worker. The number of satisfied customers that leave with a content attitude daily—as well as those that swarm inside excitedly—only hardens the belief that she's a great cook, too. I don't need to find out from others or taste the food for myself. It's all spoken in the surroundings, the community, the liveliness, and the overall wholesomeness that I'm embraced with. This woman can make someone feel like she's their family member or longtime caretaker, shimmering with compassion for those around her. It's certain that that's the way she treats everyone, even her customers. In the small moment of conversation that I've been enveloped in, I'm curious to learn more about her and her husband.

"This is a lovely shop that you have, Mrs. Park," It would be wrong to not mention it.

"Oh, Taehyung, please call me Yuna. We're family, after all." Family. That sounds so out of reach, but pleasant at the same time. "Thank you for your kind words. I'm always happy to be reminded of that. Hyungsik and I have spent a lot of time holding this place together, through rough situations and all, so it's reassuring to hear from you."

"May I ask how long you've owned this restaurant?"

"One moment, dear," Mrs. Park, or Yuna, hands her cane to my best friend, tells him to help his grandfather in the kitchen, and proceeds to hug my arm for support. Before Bogum leaves, he sends me a questionable look that insinuates, are you going to be alright? I nod in return as he jets off towards the kitchen, I presume.

At Yuna's arm-hugging gesture, I smile widely, and aid her towards a few occupied tables. I observe as she puts on a welcoming grin, asks how their days are going, and if their meals are okay. Of course, the customers nod ecstatically, assuring the elderly woman.

"As you were saying, Taehyung? I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I don't remember what you asked."

With a patient smile, I repeat the question to her.

"Oh! Yes, of course," I continue to guide her through the restaurant as she pats my arm with a hand, presumably masked as an apology. "Well, Hyungsik and I have owned this restaurant ever since you were around four years old. I do recall that you're the same age as Bogum, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Jesus, how time flies by so quickly. You're almost an adult." She mutters under her breath, a hand hovering over . "It seems like it was just yesterday when all three of you kids were running around this newly built shop, those damn ice cream bars attached to your fingertips—" I emit a genuine chuckle and agree. "—At the time, or rather, before you and your family moved, our shop was struggling immensely. Sunset Destiny has been a well-known plaza for decades, rounding up thousands of tourists a year, but even then, it was difficult to have more than a few customers per day. Perhaps, it was because the shop was new and slightly unattractive, exuding uncertainty to those that passed. Though, Hyungsik and I never gave up. It was our dream, after all. It took patience, an interior and exterior makeover, some advertisements, and time before things got easier."

"And, look at this place, now," I say, gesturing towards the abundance of families and friends that eat happily at nearby tables. "You and your husband did a phenomenal job. Your hard-working efforts paid off in the end, making your dream come true. Throughout all the doubt and the discouragement, that's the most important part, right?"

She hums enthusiastically, "It brings me the most joy in my life—to come here every morning, greet the reoccurring customers, learn about their stories, and serve meals that I'll never get sick of making. I may be getting older, but this is a highlight of mine. Nonetheless, spending it with my best friend, who has been by my side through thick-and-thin."

"Was it always just you and your husband? Of course, you have other workers around, but have you two always cooked the meals and served the customers?"

"Yes, but since things have become strenuous lately, we've hired chefs for later shifts on the weekdays and the weekends."

Yuna and I continue to stroll through the restaurant in momentary silence. Meanwhile, she greets an array of customers, and it's heartwarming to witness every time. The passionate smile that graces her lips never wavers. I begin to marvel over this shop, adding in the information that she's given me. This place has held years of great service, delivering nothing but excellency. It's inspiring.

"Speaking of new workers, there's Joohyun serving a table right now. Since the start of the summer, she's been helping Hyungsik and I around here, doing a great job all the while. I'm grateful for her. Though, please, do me a favor: would you teach her how to take a break? She refuses to listen to me, my husband, or Bogum. She's supposed to be off today, and she's waitressing tables left-and-right, tiring herself out like always."

The minute that Yuna spoke Joohyun's name, my inquisitive gaze twitches to look for the girl. In the exact location that Bogum's grandmother pointed towards, there she was: Joohyun stands at the end of an extensive booth that curls in a half-circle formation. Her lustrous hair was bundled up into a messy bun that worked so well on her. I couldn't help but stare a little longer than I should have. I notice the notepad and pen in her hands shortly after, presumably taking a mass order from a group of students still in their uniforms. Joohyun grabs my attention, again, as she doesn't notice my ogling. My lips quirk upwardly at the sight as she hurriedly jots down on her notepad.

Sometimes, it bothers me how hard she works, too.

I swallow with difficulty: "What makes you think that she'll listen to me? That girl's more stubborn than anyone I've ever met."

"Stubborn is right—I have to agree with you on that," Yuna laughs aloud, patting my arm. "Truth is, you were always the one that reached her. Back then, she would follow you around like a lost child, copying every little thing you did. You wanted some pancakes? She'd ask for pancakes, too. You wanted to go across the street to grab some ice cream? You bet your that she would cross that street herself to get you some."

"Joohyun does the same, now," I say, humor clinging to my tone. It's—now—that I realize my sleepiness has dispersed into nothing. I guess, speaking with Yuna has caused me to forget many things, and along the way, she has reminded me of others. "I suppose the everlasting bond of friendship can be powerful—through time and distance."

"Hm," Yuna hums, letting out a light, hearty giggle. It's like she knows something that I don't.

"What is it?" Despite being lost, I feel obligated to laugh along.

"Oh, nothing," she squeezes my bicep reassuringly. I leave the subject alone. "Oh! How silly of me to forget. Are you hungry, Taehyung?"

"Very much so," I reply eagerly. I'm already salivating at the sheer thought of food.

"Dear God, I'm so sorry. Here I am chewing your ear off, and you're starving. Go ahead and look at the menu. Be sure to tell Joohyun what you'd like."

"Nonsense. I don't mind hearing about your stories, Yuna," I reassure her, smiling widely. I sum up a continuation as I guide her towards a door that leads to the kitchen. "If you don't mind, would I be able to come here and learn more? I'm very interested about my past, and I can tell that you know many things. You were once someone that looked after me, right?"

"Why, yes. Occasionally, Hyungsik and I would look after the three of you. Did Bogum tell you that?"

I nod my head in response.

"That's lovely. Come here anytime you'd like, Taehyung. You're free to talk to me or Hyungsik about anything. We're here for you, always," Yuna turns to leave, but hesitates. "Also, do expect my husband to greet you after he finishes back there, okay?"

"Alright," I send her a tight lip-smile. "Thank you, Yuna. It was wonderful talking to you."

"This won't be the last conversation, dear. Now, go eat something. It's on the house."

I open my mouth to refuse, but she raises a hand in the air.

"You were like a grandson to me, too. Now, hush and go."

Mulling over the interaction, I stand idly in front of the door for a slight moment. An appreciative smile spreads across my features at the thought of Yuna. I do believe that that ten-minute conversation speaks volumes to me, forever engraving into my memories. It that I can't recall anything else, but I believe that I'll learn more eventually. I'm going to make the effort to come here, not only because I'm interested about my past, but because I want to hear many stories. I'd like to get to know her better.

Obstructing my train of thoughts, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. Curious, I spin around on my heel and lock gazes with none other than Bae Joohyun. It's not like I'm surprised.

It's inevitable that my eyes dart towards her lips to inspect the sweet smile that formed. Like other times, I admire the sight, and smile, too. If I was in a teasing mood, I would've complimented her appearance by mentioning the adorable mess that is her hair—minus the adorable part. Some straggling strands stick out of her bun lazily, falling over the edge of her brow, and for some reason, I'm waiting for her to blow it away.

I inwardly sigh, going on-and-on about how she makes this tousled-look appear so attractive.

Then again, this is Bae Joohyun we're talking about.

I bet she can wear a trash-bag, look flawless, and somehow proceed to make a fashion statement.

"Hey, Tae," she says softly, knocking me out of my sudden, boyish rumination. Once I fly back to reality, that's when that little nickname kicks in. There goes my heart thumping like a wild animal trying to escape a cage. One word comes to mind: effortless. I observe her closely as she slips her notepad and pen in her waitressing apron. "I see that you spoke to Yuna."

"Clearly."

She smirks, like all the other times that she's grown curious, "and, what'd you talk about?" Oh, I know her so well. "I can't describe how excited she was to meet you, again. Hyungsik, too."

"I'm happy to have met her as well. Hyungsik is busy, so I suppose I'll meet him afterwards. I believe that I'll be returning to talk to Yuna more often. There's something about this place that reels me in." I catch Joohyun smile fondly at my words, and before I could jump into an inward admiration about it, I redirect the conversation towards her initial question. "However, in terms of what we spoke about, you managed to be the subject of some conversations."

"Some?" What's with the wide-eyed, panicky look, Joohyun? "What do you mean?"

"I thought you were off today, Joohyun," It has diverted into a much-needed questioning, and I'd like to finalize it with some conclusive yet sensible results. So, I fold an arm across my chest, prop my forefinger and thumb under my chin, and narrow my gaze inquisitively.

"I am off today."

"Then, why are you working?" I, then, use my finger to laser-point towards her attire that's undoubtably her work-clothes.

"Because, I figured that they needed some help today."

"Well, I believe you've worked enough, hm?" It's only the truth. She works almost every single day, busies and tires herself out, then comes home to do even more work. This girl needs a break, am I right? I'm doing her a favor! "Place those orders in and take a seat at the table."

"But—"

"You work too hard," It comes out as a low mumble because it sounds way too considerate of me. That is, until I notice those damn bags under Joohyun's eyes. It's like we're one in the same or something. I step closer, scrutinizing her tired features. How come I didn't see nor realize this earlier? Ah, yeah, a little thing called makeup. My day compiling of naps must've not helped in acknowledging it, either.

It may come as a surprise, but I do, indeed, care about Joohyun's unstable mentality and awry sleep schedules. However, that would be unnecessary to confess aloud.

At my rambling thoughts, I exhale a long sigh and run a hand over my face.

"What time did you go to sleep last night, Joohyun?"

"I don't know, like at two in the morning." She shrugs her shoulders as if it was the usual. Though, it shouldn't be, so I roll my eyes at her. I don't know how many times I've told this girl to get some decent sleep at night. I dislike when she looks physically exhausted. "Haven't we had this conversation before? Why are you interrogating me, Taehyung? Are you worried?"

That sly smirk doesn't go amiss. I simply glare at her, hoping it was threatening enough for her to shut up. Like, that would work.

"If I say yes, will you stop working and sit with me?" The subtle idea invited itself inside my head. It could work.

"No, because you're being hypocritical." Oh, here she goes—pivoting the spotlight to shine on me. She does this quite often, and it's an irritating aspect about her. "Have you been sleeping well? Judging by today's obnoxious events in Mrs. Asuna's class, I'd wager that the answer is no."

"That's none of your business."

"And, when and if I fall asleep is yours?" I almost crack an admirable smile. Almost.

"Stop being stubborn, Joohyun."

"I'm not," she says nonchalantly, "I'm just pointing out your hypocrisy."

Today is not the day to act difficult.

Please, just help me out.

I'd be nice to keep that stable mentality that was left over from Yuna and I's pleasant chat. Seeing as I could have Joohyun around, that might as well continue. If only, she would listen to me.

"Now, if you have nothing else to say, I have to go place these orders in." Like a test of some sort, Joohyun's shoulder bumps against mine as she passes by. Her goal was to head into the kitchen, but my hand speedily reaches out to clasp around her forearm. Believe me, I didn't mean to do such a thing, but I guess I'm making subconscious decisions now.

"You're not the only person working today. Yuna and Hyungsik have enough help. Take a break, please," I stare deeply into her eyes for any sign of an agreement, but all I find is serenity. They're pretty and endless. It was easy to fall into them, then get hopelessly lost. Not like it's anything new, but I understand why so many guys get weak with just a look. Geez, if only they knew her, am I right? Girl's a royal pain in the ! "Listening isn't a problem, is it? Something tells me that you're trying to avoid someone."

"W-what?" Her stammering makes it clear that I hit the target on the nose.

I jerk my head towards the table that's occupied by Hoseok and Seungwan, sitting quite close to each other whilst being immersed in conversation.

Is what Bogum mentioned before true? Is she only engrossing herself in work because she doesn't want to be near Hoseok? Her parted lips and her saddened eyes do tell that story.

She doesn't return my gaze that only stares back at her, expecting an earnest answer. Out of nervousness, I watch bob up-and-down harshly.

"How do you...?"

"It's more than obvious that you two aren't in great terms," I say, "Hoseok has mentioned it before. No explanation is needed, but I do believe that your avoidance is stupidly obvious. If you want to look casual, then sit with me."

There's a familiar emotion that glazes over her eyes, and although she refuses to look at me, I can already tell. It's a blend of contemplation, gloominess, and uncertainty. I don't know how to reassure her, but if saying that I'll be by her side works, then it's a promise.

"Hey," I call, and a forefinger is all I needed to tilt her chin up. Caught off guard, she—now—looks into my eyes, but before she can let the doubt consume her, I smile warmly. "Like you said at the beach last weekend, we're best friends. I don't want you to be alone or upset, either. Whatever happened between you two will clear up eventually. Trust me. I'll be by your side."

"It's not that simple to fix."

"Nothing's ever simple. That, I know."

"So, how are you so sure?"

"With enough effort, things will resolve eventually."

Contemplative silence draws in shortly. I soon realize that her eyes are now coated with concern, and just as I thought she was going to say something worth hearing, she asks:

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

I stare blankly at the girl that stands before me. To say that I'm both frustrated and in disbelief is an understatement.

So, I sigh through parted lips as my fingers pinch brutally at the bridge of my nose.

Like, come on, seriously? She has the nerve to bring up food. Food. I mean, I'm hungry, but I feel like everything I just uttered was useless.

I stand on the bridge between taking back everything I said, and just disappearing into another dimension. If only, there was a magical portal that would transition into the scene right now. That would be a plot-twist.

"Did you just dismiss everything I just told you?" I whisper-shout. For once, I was speaking from the heart, damnit!

"No, you dolt." Like a bro, Joohyun playfully punches my shoulder, and I observe her once-dejected countenance be replaced by a lovely grin. She giggles at my reaction, almost like she ruined our bestie-moment on purpose. Hm, as expected, but at least she's smiling. "That was sweet of you to say. It was reassuring, especially for how grumpy you could be sometimes. However, throughout your little heartwarming speech, I couldn't help but notice your stomach is growling like you haven't eaten in days."

How outstanding is her hearing, exactly? Ultrasonic, perhaps? Oh, another plot-twist!

"And, what of it?" I groan aloud, refraining the urgency to stomp my foot against the ground like a child. The one time I say something excruciatingly kind. Pfft, so much for caring, huh? "Way to change the subject. Remind me to never give a , again."

"You're funny, Tae. I may have changed the subject, but it made me happy, nonetheless," Oh, lucky me. My efforts weren't for nothing. Yay. "Stop scowling like that. You look better when you smile. Now, check over the menu. I'll be there in a second to write down what you want."

"Then, will you stop working? I may have made you happy and all, but if you're still going to serve tables, then I might as well have achieved nothing."

"You won't give up, will you?"

"Does it look like I will?"

What's better than a cozy restaurant that serves breakfast all day?

Absolutely nothing!

Now, obviously, that's just the starvation talking. I'm sure there's many things that would come to mind, but right now, I couldn't care less. Like Yuna said, Hyungsik came around and placed a meal for four right in front of me. A gist of his personality, you ask? Well, to sum it up, he's like Yuna in male-form.

Getting right to it, I must've devoured about three pancakes, half a plate of potato wedges, an order of French toast, and an entire Nutella crepe. That's objectively an over-exaggerated amount of food, but there was no time for thinking. I ordered what I was craving, and that might as well have been the entire menu.

My stomach was now pleasantly filled.

I was seated between a judgmental Bogum and Joohyun, but I learned to ignore them. The entire time I was enjoying my six-course meal, they kept reminding me to take a breath, proceeded to give me disgusted looks, and even tried convincing me to "save some for later". Who the hell does that? It may have been the abundant amount of food that taunted them, but there's no way I could. Not when the food was undoubtably delicious at first taste, and my stomach was empty the entire day.

Though, with my hunger now dealt with, it had to have initiated a livelier mood to rise above the sulkiness. My energy was no longer low, but it wasn't high, either. At least, I didn't look visibly sick anymore. A familiar feeling was still anchoring at my heart to depress the atmosphere, but I was sure to not think so much about it. I was surrounded by those that continued to laugh, smile, and enjoy each other's company.

There was a little less positive energy coming from Joohyun, though.

It wasn't as awkward as I predicted the atmosphere to be, but the tension managed to thicken overtime.

Like the chatty socialites that they are, Seungwan and Hoseok started most of the conversations. Bogum and Joohyun participated in many, but it was more Bogum than anything else. I couldn't relate. I would stare off into space, listen in on the humorous event of the day that Hoseok would bring up, then tune back out. It seemed to have been endless.

I was rather observant for the entirety of the hangout. I would take countless side-glances towards Joohyun whose legs wouldn't stop bouncing up-and-down in an unrhythmical pattern (nervous tic number one). She also has the habit of picking at her nails (nervous tic number two).

Then, I'd turn to Hoseok and Seungwan who sits beside one another on the opposite side of the booth. They look like a couple on the outside, but looking in, it's an unrequited love. It's a Jimin and Chaeyoung situation all over again, but worse. It's clear that—just by simple observation—Hoseok really likes Seungwan. Perhaps, for a while now. There's been several times that he's mentioned her in Mr. Heechul's class, and when it's just the guys and I hanging out—minus Yoongi. See, that's the worst part—besides his archenemy called the friend-zone—Yoongi, his best friend, seems to like her, too.

Imagine your best friend liking the girl of your dreams—that must .

"Let's head to Central Street, then," Hoseok uttered aloud. Like clockwork, I perk my head up at the mention of going elsewhere. Where to? I have no idea—it's not like I was listening this time around. "It's in the other district downtown, right?"

, I got to stop living in my own head. I'm missing useful information.

"Duh, we all went there last summer," Seungwan nudges her friend. "The Karaoke House is across the street from Bogum's cousin's pub. You wouldn't stop begging Wooshik to let you inside, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he snaps his fingers. "Man, Wooshik was no fun."

My lips quirk upwardly, amused.

Who would let a bunch of underaged teenagers inside of a pub?

"Do we have to?" Joohyun whined tiredly. Bummed-out, she rests her forehead on her crossed arms that are laid out on the table. Her words sound muffled: "Who the hell wants to go to the Karaoke House tonight? Much less, the one that's across from Wooshik's pub."

"What's wrong with that Karaoke House?" Bogum protests.

"Seojoon is always there! He hits on me every time I'm around, haven't you noticed?" I snort aloud in hilarity, because who doesn't hit on Joohyun? Plus, it's rather entertaining when they try to ask her—Ow! What the hell? She just elbowed my side!

"What the was that for?" I frustratedly groan, clutching at my now-ruptured rib. At that, Bogum, Hoseok, and Seungwan chorus a load of synchronic giggles and chortles.

"For finding it funny," she glares, and I flip her off. Pfft, as if it scares me. "Anyways, I'm serious. It's gross."

"Wait, Seojoon as in Park Seojoon?" Suddenly, Seungwan has officially turned into a fangirl, receiving a risen eyebrow from Hoseok. This is quite laughable, indeed.

"Yes, he's Bogum's other annoying- cousin." I begin to wonder if Joohyun just dislikes all the attention that she gets from guys. She doesn't seem to have interest in anyone that comes along. Perhaps, she's gone through a destructive, life-changing heartbreak at one point in her life, and therefore, she's never had any faith in the male or female (?) population. That's a plausible assumption, but it seems so unlikely. We're in high school, after all. Nothing's ever that serious. "He hangs around the Karaoke House a lot."

"Park Seojoon is your cousin?" Seungwan turns to Bogum, mouth agape and eyebrows raised. In return, he nods slowly. This girl must be starstruck or something. "I heard from some girls on the soccer team that he's transferring to Kwang Academy next semester, is that true?"

"Supposedly, he is," Bogum shrugs. Now, how the hell do a bunch of random girls know that? "Seungwan, are you keeping tabs on my cousin? What, just because he's one of the best basketball players in the district?"

"And, he's a model for Gala Teen Magazine," Seungwan specifies, fanning herself with a hand. Not even a second later, she gives Joohyun an incredulous look. "Park Seojoon hits on you, and you reject him?"

"Am I supposed to worship him?" Joohyun deadpans, "Seungwan, he's a playboy, an , and way too persistent."

I wouldn't have expected a response that was anything less of that from Joohyun.

"She hates persistent guys," Bogum acknowledges. Everyone knows that. After Suho's grand gesture yesterday, I believe that no man in the universe has a chance with Bae Joohyun. "I'm afraid Joohyun's not wrong about the other reasons, too."

"And, what about it?" Seungwan dreamily sighs and stares off into the near distance. Twirling her hair around on one finger, I can already tell that she's fantasizing about Bogum's model of a cousin. I'd laugh at Hoseok's passive-aggressive expression, but then I'd feel bad for the guy.

"Can we stop talking about Seojoon?" Hoseok asks, and I restrain another chuckle. I saw that diversion coming. He thumbs at his phone for a moment before lifting the screen towards us. From here, it looks like a group chat of messages, but I wasn't going to read it. "I just got a text from Jimin. He said that him and the others are all on their way to the Karaoke House."

"Sounds good. Let's get going, then," Bogum responds on behalf of the rest of us. He mentions that he needs to speak to his grandparents before we head off, and to wait for him outside.
 

As a group, we begin to pile out of the booth and head over towards the exit. The shop was still decently packed. I'm ninety-percent sure that we've been here for around two hours, or so that's what it feels like. 
 

While Bogum runs off to find his grandparents, I fade into the background as Hoseok tells Seungwan his plans to persuade Wooshik in allowing him to enter his pub. Like, that'll work. 
 

I glance at my phone to find that I was right—It was getting late and I was growing tired. I'm not entirely sure if I want to head over to another district, just to hang out at a damn Karaoke House that I'm not going to find myself participating in. It may sound bland of me to say, but I did arrive here with a mission—a mission that's now complete, considering that I spoke to Yuna and Hyungsik. 
 

"You've been quiet for a while now," Joohyun's worried yet peaceful tone snaps me to attention. I blink several times at the change of environment and setting. We're no longer inside of the coffee shop, but outside on the sidewalk. Again, I must've gotten too lost within my own head to realize that we've exited. Further down the path, Seungwan and Hoseok are enveloped in another conversation, nudging and laughing with each other. 
 

"Just thinking." I hope that implies I'm okay. 
 

"Hm," she hums in understanding, "Are you joining us at the Karaoke House, then?"
 

"You're going?" I'm still contemplating, so I might as well spin the question around on her. "While Seungwan was busy fangirling over Seojoon, I couldn't help but notice that you're not too stoked with the idea."
 

"It's not only that," she sighs warily. "I can avoid Seojoon. He's not an issue. I'm just using him as an excuse to not go. I kind of want to—"

"—Rest?" I interject to finish her sentence. "I think, we're very alike when it comes to prioritizing sleep and alone-time."
 

She smiles knowingly. 
 

"We may prioritize because the world is telling us to sleep better at night."
 

"If only," I mumble.
 

"Hm? If only, what?"
 

"Nothing," I shake my head, unrolling my sleeves down to my wrists. There's a slight, pleasant breeze in the air this afternoon. It instills a brief chill to run down my spine. I predict that it'll only worsen once night begins to fall. "Anyways, I'll go if you do. If not, I'll accompany you on the walk home."

"Well, I'm definitely going. Though, I see that your decision depends on that. Is my presence necessary?" I mean, isn't it obvious? I can deal with Bogum and Joohyun for an extensive amount of time, but the others? Not so much. 
 

"You and Bogum are my true friends. So, yes, it is necessary. After a while, I get sick of being around everyone else." Joohyun giggles at my statement, and I raise a curious eyebrow at her. "Problem?"
 

"And, Jimin? He'll be there."
 

"Ah, he's irritating, too."
 

"You don't have a filter, do you?"
 

"Having a filter is equivalent to being dishonest."
 

"Well, I suppose you have a point," When do I not? "I must admit that having you and Bogum around is another level of special."
 

"That concludes my point being made."
 

Like now, as I look at the amused grin that pulls at her lips, I can tell that Joohyun finds genuine enjoyment in our talks. Often, she cackles like I just uttered the joke of the year. I'm stating the obvious, but it's now that I finally notice it, and begin to ponder how it got to this moment. With how disrespectful I once was towards her, I'm only thankful that I was able to regain that mutual understanding long ago. If not, I might not have Joohyun as a friend right now. That's why I take advantage of these moments, and I'm grateful that there's someone that I could connect to, besides Bogum. 
 

In fact, I like when Joohyun talks to me willingly. No, I'm not trying to be corny, but if I really dig into my perspective on this girl, that's one thing that comes to mind. All the friendly teasing and easygoing, laughable chats that we immerse ourselves in only reminds me that I did redevelop a great connection with someone. It baffles me to think about the first day that we met—almost a month ago, to be exact. Never in a million years would I have thought that she'd be so...comforting to be around.
 

Suddenly, the irritable sound of tires loudly screeching against pavement obstructs my will to think a single thought. As I cringe, the sound of compromised and pressurized air being breathed out follows-suit, then the vehicle comes to an abrupt halt. It drags me out of the trance that I was in, but I so badly wanted to return. Hoseok and Seungwan start to call us over, waving their hands in the air from the end of the sidewalk. They were standing under a bus stop's overhead. 
 

Then, my mind pieced everything together.
 

"We have to take a bus?" I barely say above a whisper. I couldn't think straight. I wait for Joohyun to answer, but I don't think I'll be able to retain her words. I find myself begin to internally panic, causing the potential for hearing a clear reply to fail miserably. My brain continues to race and race as I watch a line of passengers exit the bus. At the end of the boarding line was Hoseok and Seungwan. They were looking at us weirdly. "Why do we have to take a bus?"

 

"—just said why." I'm bound to actuality, again. What did she say? The information is being retrieved in bits. I try to focus on calming myself down, distracting my speedy thoughts, and retaining a single word that Joohyun utters, but it's too much to maintain. I don't know what to do, but I direct my panicked gaze to meet Joohyun's. She's worried about me. "Taehyung, are you okay? What's wrong? Why are you shaking?"

 

I'm shaking?

Joohyun's Perspective:

Having two boys as best friends can be quite an adventure. With that knowledge understood, I'm always in the blue of what it would entail. It's clear that with every day that passes, it manages to be a different one, and I tend to learn something new.

Together, Taehyung and Bogum are one in the same, but apart, they are total opposites. Best friends are like that; adapting similar views, sayings, and mannerisms, but it usually presents itself when they're in a common area—more so, when they come together as a unit. Pulling each of them aside and engaging in solo-conversations is a great way to not only catch onto specific details, but to learn about them on an in-depth level. Now that the three of us are older and more mature (for the most part), it's easier to pinpoint the subtle differences. 

In some departments, Taehyung is like Bogum, though in others, they're worlds apart. He's very quiet, grouchy, and serious, which can make outsiders think that he's socially inept. Once I dug a little deeper, it was easy to grasp that he's overly sarcastic, smart-mouthed, witty, straightforward, sly, amusing, and can sometimes be—dare I say it—kind. In truth, he has a way with words, and if the time is right, he knows how to carry meaning within each syllable that's delivered. I'll give him that much. 

Now, if you told me this exact summary of his personality a month ago, I would've partly disagreed and said he was nothing short of a disrespectful . 

Is it so wrong for me to think that? It's what he made everyone believe with that sourly blank look that never seems to budge into a smile. 

Amid that mindset, I was proved wrong—so terribly wrong. His rudeness only continues to fade, and replacing that behavior is the truth hidden under the mask that he often wears. 

His aura used to be cold and bitter. 

No color; almost black-and-white; grey. 

Besides bottled-up resentment, there's zero emotion. A personality that I couldn't detect. 

Say that his personality was in the form of an untouched sculpture or art piece that's halfway done. At first glance, it could be misunderstood or give off the wrong purpose. The more that I live in his presence, it's like someone is holding a can of multi-colored paint over that same colorless sculpture or art piece that embodies him. Day-by-day, the paint slowly drips over the dullness, designing it with more color and more meaning—giving it a sense of life, familiarity, understanding, and purpose. 

For instance, warm colors may signify his softer side; his sentimentality, his meaningful thoughts, his ambitions, what makes him laugh or smile, and his outlook on the world around him. The cool colors could tell the opposite, maybe his faults, his fears, his doubts, his deepest regrets, his mistakes, and the things that inflict pain to his soul. Though, in the end, those colors soon blend and mix into one, concluding all the details that makes Taehyung who he is.

The individual that he is today.

I'm nowhere near being close to seeing all the sides of him. That would take a little more time, a little more conversation, and a little more experience.

As days pass, I do see Taehyung flourish, and I witness that mask carefully being ripped off. 

Of course, it's only a matter of time until the painting is finished.

As I continue to explore the many wonders of Taehyung, it's clear that my understanding and evaluation of Bogum is more than complete. If I were to describe how I view the two, it'd be a little like this: 

Bogum acts like an overprotective brother and Taehyung acts like an annoying best friend. 

With one, it's a push-and-pull factor, like some type of game to find out who can piss off the other first. It'll ultimately lead us into a whirlwind of irritability, frustration, and eventually—laughs, but that's just how it always was with me and Taehyung. 

Even as kids, the boy was a tattle-teller, a prankster, and a snide, but not towards Bogum. 

Nope, never to Bogum. 

That was his best buddy in crime. 

Taehyung would always act like that with me. Even now, nothing's obviously changed. He still loves to push my buttons at every given chance, even if he doesn't remember a damn thing. That part alone makes me wonder so many things. Numerous years pass, he's forgotten us and all the little things that made us a trio, and yet he still acts the same.

There was one thing about our friendship—more like, their friendship—that always pissed me off, though.

It was the fact that Bogum and Taehyung had their secrets.

Whenever I would ask, it's the same, old excuse of 'bro-code'.

The eventual outcome would lead to feeling left out. That's what usually happened.

Now that the memory comes to mind, I'm going to just say it:

I feel left out.

It's become clear: Bogum and Taehyung know something that I don't. Once again. It's like time is repeating itself, and they've got another secret hidden away, locked inside of a box, and they're the only that has the key to unleashing it. I have no clue what in the world that is, but it's bugging the hell out of me. It's difficult to refrain myself from growing an ounce of curiosity at how secretive they're acting.

Mere moments prior, Bogum demanded that I should take a seat in the bus, and just as I was about to argue against it, Taehyung enforces the idea. 

So, that's where I am now; I'm sitting in a random window-seat towards the mid-section of the bus. 

The last remaining portion of passengers are still flowing in, but we're about to depart. Seungwan and my half-brother are seated towards the back, but I'm too focused on my numerous raging thoughts and the slight anxiousness to look for them.

I lost count for how many times I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My foot is incessantly tapping against the ground, and even I'm getting irritated by it. It's a natural habit when I want answers. All I'm trying to do is drive my focus towards anything else, but my two—rather chatty—best friends that stand on the other side of this window. It's not a surprise that my intrigue causes me to turn my head and look outside to inspect the scene for the fiftieth time. As they consult about something that's out of my range of knowledge, the serious looks on their faces stand out to me. 

Yup, it's concluded. They're hiding something from me. 

If I knew what it was, Bogum and Taehyung wouldn't have proceeded to tell me to board the bus.

Though, thankfully I'm not an idiot that overlooks certain details. This started once Taehyung started to act weird. It was seconds before Bogum left the shop. 

The cause of Taehyung's uncharacteristic behavior; I figured that it has something to do with the bus. He kept asking why we were taking it. Just as I thought it couldn't get any worse, he starts to visibly shake—more so, his hands—but the reason was unknown. He was just frozen in place, not answering anything that I was asking him. I tried to shake him out of it, but nothing worked. It could've been out of fear or out of anxiety, but what would instill that? 

There was also this blank, far-off look that often clouds his eyes, and it usually happens when something is wrong, displaying a notion of unsettlement with the way his eyebrows push forward. It wasn't the same look that he has when he's stuck in his own mind or when he's just thinking. As he does that often, I would know right away, and even then, it's evident that he's still connected to reality. 

It was different this time—almost like he was traumatized.

But, by what? There's only so many dots that I can connect on my own.

My mind still scrambles for an answer as I stare at Bogum and Taehyung. 

Bogum pulls out his phone, points at it, and receives a nod from his best friend. I squint at the interaction, clearly confused. I remain unable to understand a single thing. Then, Bogum places a hand on Taehyung's shoulder and squeezes firmly. Taehyung nods, mouths something, and then, smiles. It was restricted, almost like he was hiding a weight of stress behind it, but it was still his type of smile. 

Was Bogum trying to make him feel better about something? Maybe, reassuring him or calming him down? 

God, I don't know.

Then, a familiar presence plops into the seat beside mine. Suspecting that it was a random passenger, I turn my head to find that my expectations were wrong. Making the unknown much clearer, I was relieved to find that it was just Taehyung. His lip-smile to Bogum had disappeared, and replacing it was a deep, visible frown. His intense gaze instills a negative and apprehensive feeling to hit me, throwing my thoughts into a spiral.

Lost, and hurrying to find an answer, I quizzically glance up at Bogum as he passes by. He sends me a quick, unreadable look that I obviously can't decipher, but I have a feeling that it has something to do with the boy that sits only inches away from me. 

As Bogum sits two rows behind us, I look at Taehyung once more, who's still staring me down like a hawk. It's like he was expect something. His eyebrows are drawn forward contemplatively, like his head is filled with a billion worries, and he's trying to figure out which one he'd reveal first. 

With a tenacious grip, one of his hand's clutches onto the seat in front of him for support. His body is slightly turned towards me, like he's about to confess something that may sound insane. As I seep deeper into evaluating the look in his eyes, I can detect that the fear from earlier is still there, slowly consuming him.

Is he about to tell me something? Why is he so quiet?

It's scaring me.

I open my mouth to say something useful, or to ask if he's okay, but he beats me to it.

"I know it may sound crazy, but will you hold my hand?" His voice is small, smaller than it's ever been. He usually speaks with confidence or cleverness, but it's the opposite this time, and it startles me. It was almost uncharacteristic of him to ask such a question. It sounded as if he just regretted every syllable that left his lips but remained hopeful that I'd accept his plea. 

Although my thoughts are conjuring up words to respond with, my lips are still parted, unable to coherently form an audible sentence.

Not a second later, the bus door cranks shut with a cringe-worthy squeak. The sound was faint and predictable yet Taehyung jumps in his seat, presumably in fright.

Is he scared of riding the bus?

"Joohyun," his tone reaches another level of urgency, like time is running out.

"Okay," is all I muster aloud.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he warns, but it comes out as an adorable stutter.

Like, I could ever. "I'm not the one asking to hold hands."

"Just...Um. Hold on a second," he says, and I glance over to see the disaster that he's making of himself. In a haste-like fashion, his hands are rummaging through his pockets like he's going through a time-trial. Confused, I continue to stare at him as he takes out his phone and a tangled mess of headphones. I almost laugh, until I see that as he's trying to undo the intertwined cord, his hands are trembling. Just like they were when we stood on the sidewalk earlier. ". . ."

"Taehyung..." He doesn't listen. He was panicking. His way of untwining the ball of wire is by pulling at it until it magically comes undone. His goal is far from being achieved since all it does is tighten everything up, making it nearly impossible to undo. "Hey, look at me."

"I can't. I need to fix this."

Stubborn, like me.

In preparation, I breathe out a sigh and think fast. As the wheels of the bus start to move, it gets worse for Taehyung. He gives up on the headphones. I reach out to take his hands in mine and urge him to look into my eyes. His body tenses up, but not from my touch. He shifts in his seat to face me and rests his head against the cushion of the headrest. I do the same and focus on talking to him through the entirety of the ride.

In times of anxiety-filled silence that only stresses me out, his large hands would squeeze mine tightly, like he was sending me an insinuative message to start speaking, again. As soon as I would utter a few words of reassurance, his hold would loosen. His shoulders gradually fall from being hunched up to his neck. My heart swells with concern. He was still tensed up, and his hands would slightly shake, but I tried my best to make him feel okay. 

Sometimes, as I talk about random , he would close his eyes for a couple minutes, then open them once I run out of things to say. He would plead for me to talk about my favorite memories, or any stories that would come to my mind. 

I mentioned the time that I went on vacation to the states, and how my happiest memory was being voted as class president. To my surprise, he breathed out a weak laugh at that one, and shook his head pitifully. 

I felt so pressured that my mind would go blank, and then he'd start rambling about a plethora of topics, like his favorite color, his favorite animal, and that he prefers coffee over tea. 

Then, in the softest way, he soon mentions how my voice calms him down, and that he's thankful for it.

At that, it was difficult not to smile, so while his eyelids were tightly shut, that's when I chose to. I believe this is the first time I've ever seen him so vulnerable. He's very enclosed, headstrong, and naturally independent. Not in a billion years would I ever figured that he'd need a source of comfort to cling onto or someone to depend on. This time around, it's become clear. 

He desperately needed someone. 

"You have a fear of buses?" I had asked, running my thumb over his knuckles.

"Something like that." He, then, smiled. 

An unmistakably light fluttering sensation spread throughout the rest of my body.

I didn't know it then, but I knew it now.

That was the first time that a smile has ever skipped a beat in my heart.

But, like I said, I didn't know it then. 

Instead, within that fragile moment, all that I could mull over was the slim possibility that this may open a new window of trust between us, and I'd finally be able to know the story behind the visible scar that runs down his side.

A/N: It's almost ten at night, and I just finished editing this chapter. Another 12k words for this one. I don't know how this happens, but next one is going to be shorter for sure. Originally, the third portion of this chapter wasn't supposed to happen, and it was supposed to be Bogum and Tae having a moment. I think, this way was even better because it clues in on Joohyun's thoughts, and what she knows. This scene also shows and hints at how much closer Tae and Joohyun will become, even if it's strictly friendly--it does open a new window of trust, like she says! Underlying feelings gotta start somewhere, I guess, and this will surely resonate with Tae.

Oh, and remember Tae jokingly catching Joohyun staring at his chest last chapter? Nah, she noticed the scar.

Now that I'm closing out this Author's Note, I hope you liked it and enjoyed. Next chapter is wrapping up nicely. It's calculated to be half of this length. I can't force myself to shorten this up lol. It's a blessing for you guys. Thank you all who vote, comment, and read my work. It means a lot.