The phone in your hand shakes as you wait for a familiar face to appear. Your vision is blurred, but you still make out the person’s features.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Hongjoong’s voice is laced with sleep. If his squinting into the bright screen in the dark didn’t already give away that he was asleep.

It’s just past midnight, and you are so overwhelmed by your intro to data analytics class. Your professor seems to expect that everyone already knows how to do statistics, but you haven’t even taken a course. You feel stupid and behind the rest of the class. Spending 12 agonizing hours trying to finish an analysis of data you don’t even understand has broken you. You don’t know what any of these numbers mean and which you should talk about in papers. Your current grade is teetering the fine line of pass or fail.

“I’m so stupid,” you choke back a sob.

“Babe, if that’s the case then I’m really stupid.” He tries to lighten the mood, but you let out another sob.

“We’re an idiot couple!”

“Alright, tell me what’s going on.” He settles back against his pillows.

“My data class. I don’t understand anything. The professor uses terminology that she expects us to already know what they mean and mentions concepts for assignments but doesn’t explain what they are. I’ve already had to turn a major assignment in late and all she said was that one of my calculations was wrong and gave me a 59 out of 100 points. Nothing about the actual analysis! How am I supposed to pass this class if she doesn’t teach?” You ramble on with tears still in your eyes, sobs trembling in your chest.

You haven’t noticed Hongjoong get up and throw on a hoodie. It isn’t until you complain about the nice email you forced yourself to write to the professor that you realize he is no longer in his dorm building. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, head spinning from crying and ranting.

The wind is loud against the speaker as he walks a few buildings over to