[somewhere in 2020]

 

    “I didn’t know you had a thing for older guys,” Yuri bristles.

    Hyoyeon leans forward with interest. “Who’s he?” She makes a semi- face.

    Jaehyun hums, “isn’t that Baekhyun? He was Mr. Hubble’s TA up until our junior year.”

    I remember everything that went down. In fact, I’d been the one to get Mr. Hubble fired for his misconduct. He went too far. I’d been looking for Baekhyun to ask him about my calculus homework until I saw how visibly uncomfortable Baekhyun had been when Mr. Hubble—I kid you not—playfully grabs his bottom.

    I was going to hell for lying, but so was Mr. Hubble. I anonymously accused him of touching me, and from there, he laid perfectly in the crossfire.

    Multiple anonymous witnesses and victims came forward. Mrs. Hubble was horrified by her husband’s secret life. It was the biggest scandal in our community. Who could’ve known the number of erts that hid behind white picket fences?

    “Oh my god, I didn’t remember him being that hot,” Hyoyeon sighs.

    “Hyo, I thought you were having an affair with the soccer coach,” Yuri snides. “Of course, if you are into that sort of thing…”

    “Bring the hostility down, Yuri.” Shockingly, it wasn’t me who said it. I turn my attention to Jaehyun who raises his brows warningly.

    “He’s coming to our table,” Taeyong notes. He points to Baekhyun who is indeed getting closer.

    “Well, I definitely wasn’t aware you guys were the popular kids,” Baekhyun remarks, specifically eyeing me with curiosity.

    “We’re top five in the school,” Hyoyeon brags, winking.

    I nudge her. “As you can see—pretty privilege.” I direct the last words to my brother who rolls his eyes.

    “Rich coming from someone who’s uglier than a cow,” he comments offhandedly, earning a laugh from Yuri.

    Baekhyun easily ignores the supercharged tension that comes with the popular crowd as if he’d been somewhat used to it. “Taeyong, you’re this class’s valedictorian?”

    Taeyong shyly smiles. “It hasn’t been confirmed.”

    “He’s being humble,” Jaehyun adds with a sly look. “Mans has been confirmed since freshman year when he made perfect scores on both the SAT and ACT.”

    Yuri shrugs. “That’s not a flex, ya know? Some people don’t test very well.”

    “That’s code for my daddy pays for everything—even my fake, perfect score,” I chide, dodging Yuri’s kick from under the table. Then, as if on cue, I jump up from my seat to pull Baekhyun to somewhere more private.

    I watch him—well, okay, more like scrutinize—because I’m not used to this. After prom, he was sort of around because he had a job on campus. But since then, it’d been a year after he quit being TA (after the old ert got fired).

    I square out my shoulders, wondering if he still saw me as a kid as he adoringly dubs me every now and then. I know I’m being foolish. Baekhyun was a really good friend to me. I’ve never had any friends that were exclusively mine.

    Well, fine, he wasn’t mine, and we were obviously in no way exclusive. But it was nice. The thought that he volunteered to be my best friend despite our weird . Of course, that doesn’t erase the unease that comes with our . Sometimes, I wonder if I’m embarrassing to him.

    How embarrassing must it be for an adult to regularly listen to a high school kid rant about her difficult life when he had his own hardships to deal with?

    “Everything okay?” Baekhyun asks, making me realize that I haven’t said a single word since pulling him from our courtyard.

    “Hm? Yeah, everything’s okay,” I lie, forcing a teeny smile. “So—what’s up?”

    He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to me. “You left this.”

    I study the pink velvet scrunchie in his hand. “Oh, right.” I probably lose hundreds of scrunchies, and they weren’t all that valuable. “Thanks, but you really didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

    Baekhyun tilts his head, carefully pondering over my words. “What do you mean?”

    I sheepishly bite my bottom lip. “I mean—well, er, you have a life outside of being friends with me.”

    “Yeah? But what does that have to do with anything?”

    My stomach bubbles with anxiety. “Maybe you’re wasting your time, Baekhyun. I’m not sure what we’re doing. We met through really strange circumstances, and I don’t even know why you’ve decided to stick around.”

    Baekhyun gapes at me. “That’s what you’re worried about? It’s why you haven’t been answering any of my text messages?”

    “No, that’s not it—I have other commitments.” Now, it just sounds like I’m making excuses. I exhale shakily before continuing, “school and whatnot. You’re in the middle of graduate school. I can’t help but feel like I’m part of this secret life you have.”

    He lets out a quiet laugh of disbelief. “I don’t have a secret life. It’s simpler than you think, kid.”

    “Don’t you think it’s foolish that you’re friends with a kid?”

    Baekhyun sighs, “god, you’re really not understanding, are you?”

    “Then—” I cross my arms. “Explain it. Why? Why?”

    “Do you enjoy my company?”

    I nod at the seemingly dumb question.

    “Ditto, kiddo. Does it come out as a surprise that I feel the same way? That I also like to talk to you not because I have some hidden, ulterior motive but—because I simply like being your friend?”

    Color me stupid.

    He takes a deep breath before pulling me into him. “You’re so silly. And if you’re worried about me being six years older than you, don’t.”

 

[february 14th, 2020]

 

    Today was going to be a good day. I’d gotten my acceptance letter from Georgetown and bragged about it until Jaehyun put my letter through a paper shredder.

    The joke’s on him. I’d gotten the acceptance letter emailed too.

    My parents had plans of their own. Valentine’s was their own special holiday, so they were always off for a romantic date.

    “Hey, ugly, I’m getting laid tonight,” Jaehyun says loudly when he barges into my room.

    I throw him a grotesque look. “No, this is my safe place.”

    He snorts, “don’t you have plans with hyung?”

    “I think he’ll be busy today,” I deadpan. “I’m staying here and letting young Leo DiCaprio seduce me.” I point to my TV, the intro of Titanic unmistakably plays.

    Jaehyun gags. “I mean—you do you, but Yuri doesn’t really hold back.” To which, he wiggles his eyebrows and toothily grins.

    “Oh, man, you’re still with her?”

    Memories of Kwon Yuri shoving my face in cement resurfaces.

    “What? She’s hot,” he nonchalantly quips.

    “Are we forgetting that she completely humiliated me during our junior prom?” Yuri thought it would be funny to recreate the scene in Carrie in which Carrie was bathed with pig’s blood. She also committed multiple murders, but lucky for Yuri, her head hadn’t been decapitated in some atrocious and morbid event.

    Jaehyun laughs, completely ignoring my bitterness. “It was a funny prank.”

    “I ing hate your friends.”

    “They’re your friends too.”

    “Um, no, Yuri and I are not mutually exclusive. If I see even a hair on her, that’s her last day on Earth.”

    He tilts his head, looking like he was done with this conversation. Well, I certainly wasn’t. I hate Kwon Yuri. “You’re being dramatic as always. She likes you. Don’t you feel bad that you’re the only one in our group that holds hard feelings?”

    “No.”

    Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “It’s one night.”

    “Same to you. Why do you need the whole house to yourself if only to sniff her musty ?”

    “You’re such a ,” he grunts. “This isn’t a debate.”

    I harrumph, “yeah, no , Shapiro. No valid points were made by you.”

    “Getting laid on Valentine’s Day is valid. Not everyone swears by being a long-term prude,” he presses.

    “I do get laid, moron.”

    “Yeah, I bet you do—under those granny .”

    I kick his , but unfortunately for me and fortunately for him, I end up leaving the house. Sighing, I begrudgingly meander down our neighborhood. I swear I’m going to leak my brother’s tapes when he turns eighteen.

    My phone, as if on cue, buzzes in my hand. I glance down to see a message.

    You busy?

    not at all. you?

    No plans today.

    Wanna hang?

    should i bring anything?

     No need. I got the drugs.

    Baekhyun lives a comfortable distance away, but I didn’t plan on walking. I made a u-turn, grabbing my bike from the garage. It takes me ten minutes to cycle from my neighborhood to his.

    I fly past the tourists on the sidewalks and before I know it, I’m at the student apartment complexes. Baekhyun unironically lives on the sixth floor in unit 669. The plumbing was pretty , but he told me that he’d been lucky to even get a place near Georgetown considering that it wasn’t cost-friendly to university students.

    Baekhyun unabashedly takes advantage of his dead parents. He proclaimed that it was better to grieve with fat pockets rather than being dirt poor.

    When I approach his unit, I stare at the drunken girl sobbing by his door. She sees me and comedically backs up to let me through. I’m still confused when he lets me in, exchanging polite smiles with her.

    “What’d you do to her?” I ask, craning my neck to see her bawl her face off in the crack of the door before it shuts.

    Baekhyun tugs me along. “Ah. Jessica? She’s practicing the role of a broken lover for the theater show casting. Just pretend she isn’t there.”

    “As in—you didn’t intentionally break the heart of an unsuspecting girl for once?”

    He playfully shoves me, but his playful shoves send me a couple of feet forward. That, people, is the works of a former student-athlete. He quit playing volleyball after the first year of university—said it was too many commitments because he, a STEM major, needed to free up his time to up his girlies.

    Ironically, in the two years that I’ve known him, he could not hold a relationship longer than six months. He was the type of guy that you fell to the floor for yet at the same time—cried your entire soul for once he demoted you to boring.

    “You’re such an ,” I snipe, rubbing my knees that had taken most of the brute force.

    He slightly winces, dropping to pull me up. “You okay?” His fingers tenderly caress my patella before gingerly rubbing his warm palms over.

    “S-stop.”

    Baekhyun throws me a funny look. “Did you just stutter?”

    I hadn’t meant to stutter. I never once stuttered. Not a future prosecutor in the making stuttering.

    “Tickles,” I grunt, hiding my pink cheeks behind my palms.

    His laugh comes out lovingly as he’d just been fawning over a tiny pup. But a quiet cute escapes from him.

    “Smashing.” My grin is loud as I engage in our usual minuscule games.

    “Knockout.”

    “Arresting.”

    “Beddable,” he murmurs.

    I try to give him a weird stare, but when our eyes meet, we both burst out laughing.

    “57-59,” I note. “I’m still winning.”

    Baekhyun ignores me, pulling me down with him. We both land on his vintage leather couch. It was the ugliest thing I’d seen in a long time, but Baekhyun said that he had to have it. We’d previously gone thrifting a month ago, and he found the ugly couch to be endearing. I’d say—the couch was a better alternative to the cheap foldable plastic chairs he stole (long story).

    I’m not sure when he found the time to wash it, but it smelled like him. The faintest of roses.

    He wraps his arms around me, and to a complete dwarf like me, he was smothering any signs of air from my lungs. I’d wrongly assumed that my growth spurts would eventually do their thing. But it hadn’t.

    I only grew one, single sad inch courtesy to Baekhyun’s triumph.

    He ignores my protest, letting me drown in his body weight. He hadn’t been a big guy, but still, at 5’8, he was enormous to me. Baekhyun’s physique had always been between skater boy scrawny and lean muscle. I guess maybe that’s why girls flocked to him like a school of fish.

    “ Getoffofme.”

    “I missed you, kid,” he mumbles, pulling me in tighter.

    I can’t even feel my ribs.

    Finally, he gives me the teeniest bit of mercy, releasing me ever so slightly.

    “I didn’t sign up for this,” I protest, trying to kick him off of me.

    “That’s the touch depravity talking,” he insists with a huge grin.

    “That has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that you cut off my breathing supply!”

    “Yeah, yeah. Schematics.”

    He loosens his hold almost completely, but instead of moving, I wrap my hands around his back. His grin dips into an intimate smile.

    “Hi,” he says, his words fall low that they rumble against my cheeks that lightly brush his chest.

    “You’ve already said that,” I murmur goodheartedly. “By the way, I got into Georgetown.”

    His excitement makes me feel warm. “Congratulations. How do you feel?”

    “Badass.”

    “I’d always known you were destined for greatness.”

    “You’re definitely laughing at me in there,” I joke, tapping the back of his head.

    “No funny business.”

    “Sounds a little too sketch to me,” I playfully drawl.

    He feigns innocence. “You’re definitely streaking campus.”

    “Um. No. How about I not go to jail on my first day?”

    “It’ll be fun.”

    “Are you peer-pressuring me?”

    “Nope, not at all—no pressure. But—“ He pauses for a dramatic effect. “I’d offer to streak with you.”

    I snort. “Just say that you wanna see me .” I shoot him a deranged look. “Come on, Baek. Silence is an admission.”

    He mischievously bites my shoulder, ignoring my blubbering. And then, he’s giving me a final squeeze before (sadly) releasing me. “Come on. Let’s go out for dinner.”

    I try not to look so disappointed. Pretending to hate his touch was easier than admitting that I’d wanted him as more than a friend. “Just the two of us?”

    His eyes twinkle under the dim lights of the tall lamp beside us. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, kid.”

 

[somewhere in 2020]

 

    Once in a blue moon, Jaehyun acts as a surrogate therapist. He’ll randomly barge into my room and touch my things until I voice my irritation as younger siblings tend to do.

    “Shouldn’t you be planning a romantic proposal for Hyo or something?” I impatiently snap.

    He feigns innocence. “Why would I do that?”

    “Oh, I don’t know. If I squinted any harder, I definitely wouldn’t be able to see your obvious toward her.”

    Jaehyun briefly considers this. “Still don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

    “But you know what I’m implying,” I quip.

    He ignores me, plopping himself next to me. “Move over, fat-.”

    “You’re the one who came in my room unannounced.”

    “I’m not the one who’s being a ,” he says with a -eating smile.

    “I hate you,” I announce, trying to shove him off of me.

    Jaehyun weighs as much as a boulder because he’s all muscle, so he doesn’t budge no matter how much I push. “Hah, weak.”

    “What do you want from me?”

    “Nothing. Just surprised you’re not out with hyung.”

    “I’m not always out with him,” I spitefully deny.

    His grin turns mischievous. “Sure, you aren’t. Just like you don’t have a throbbing for him, huh?”

    “You’re obnoxious,” I surmise.

    “Am I obnoxious for having the balls to tell the truth or for being your brother?”

    “You don’t even have the balls to admit that you like Hyoyeon, little bro.” Even though I wanted to sound condescending, it felt a tad too mean. So, I toned it down. “Sorry.”

    No matter because Jaehyun didn’t even look bothered. “That’s okay. Being feisty’s your way of showing affection. You ever think about hyung’s love language?”

    “Touch,” I answer after a long beat.

    He nods. “And who does he touch the most?” When I don’t answer, he stands, patting my arm. “Think about that. Maybe you’ll both be less barf-inducing when you guys pull your heads out of your asses.”

 

“Hello? Who’s this?” I don’t know what convinced me to pick up an unknown caller ID at two in the morning.

    “Hi, this is Sehun. Baekhyun’s friend.”

    My jaw drops, and somehow, I manage to pick it back up to answer him. “As in the actor?”

    He chuckles, “indeed, this is he.”

    Before I can freak out because—hello? Did Baekhyun not think to tell me of this important news? Like the fact that he was friends with an A-list celebrity?

    I try to brush my nerves aside as I return back to this conversation. “Is everything okay? Is Baekhyun hurt?”

    Sehun clears his throat. “Not exactly. Around this time, he participates in binge drinking, and I’m worried about his state because his parents—I mean, uh, it’s not my place to tell you everything, but I can’t be there for him right now because I’m in Paris. I just wanted to ask if you could check on him. He talks about you all the time, so I just thought that maybe it’d be okay to ask you.”

    “Oh,” is all I manage to say. “I—I can check on him.”

    “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you in the future. Let me know how he is, alright?”

    “Yeah, I’ll do that,” I reply, smiling awkwardly to somewhere in space as if I’d been manifesting invisible cameras from The Office. Once the line disconnects, I stare down at my phone’s lock screen.

    It’s a picture of us at the flower exhibition he invited me to last weekend in Maryland. In it, we’re both squatting in front of a patch of lavenders. A nice, older couple had volunteered to take a couple of pictures for us to thank Baekhyun for doing theirs prior.

    Before I could say no thanks, Baekhyun had jumped in and easily agreed. He pulled us both to the ground, leaning into me closely.

    His grin is wide and goofy—head tilting so near to mine that I could still smell the roses on him. Then, I remember how his hair tickled my cheeks when one of his last poses included him dropping his head completely on my shoulders with his left arm possessively wrapped around the small of my back.

    I also remember how my heart felt as if it’d been caught in my throat. When I throw on the nearest sweater, I falter, realizing that it’d been unironically his.

    Concern for his wellbeing arises once again when Sehun’s phone call nudges at my inner consciousness.

    April was typically on the chillier side, but tonight, the air was sticky with signs of an oncoming shower. I shiver, lifting my bike from its rack.

    Once I arrive, my knock is tentative, but there’s no answer from behind his door. I press my ear and listen to the complete silence.

    I try the doorknob, and to my shock, it opens. Clicking my tongue in disapproval, I push his door open and immediately, I pick up on the smell of booze.

    “What in the—“ I cut myself off when I see him casually flipping through the channels on his TV. A remote in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other.

    Baekhyun doesn’t meet my eyes until I forcefully clear my throat several times. I’m not sure how to feel about his blatant cold shoulders. I’ve never seen this side of him. Then again, how do you know a person well in the span of two years? Maybe I don’t really know who he is at all.

    I slowly approach him.

    “Sit down,” he mumbles, his voice coming out raspier than I’m used to.

    I heed his words, but not before asking if he was okay. He didn’t answer, so we both watch TV, pretending that the awkwardness in the air hadn’t existed.

    I listen to the trickle of liquid, turning my head from National Geographic to see him gulping tequila. Worried, I try again, “Baekhyun.”

    “Did Sehun send you?” He sounds fed up.

    “Rightfully so,” I press, sending him a sharp look nudging at the bottle in his hand.

    Baekhyun releases a sound of exasperation. “Go home. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

    “Are we pretending that you don’t have to attend your 8 AM class tomorrow too?”

    He laughs, but there isn’t any humor behind it. It’s not even goodhearted. Just pure malice. “What’s the difference? I pretend all the time.”

    I lean onto my side, turning my full attention to him. “You do?”

    The rims of his eyes are red—probably from crying. The lights catch onto his eyes, and I notice their shininess. “It never gets easier.”

    “What?”

    “Pretending that their deaths don’t affect me.”

    My expression changes from stern to something much softer. “I assume you’re talking about your parents?”

    He confirms through a low grunt.

    “And do you reckon that binge-drinking helps?”

    “If you’re here to lecture me, the door’s that way,” he answers icily, taking another long gulp.

    “How did they die?”

    “Car accident.” So, he really doesn’t want to talk about it. Noted.

    Even so, I press, “were you there?”

    His smile is cruel when he answers, “my parents and I. We both had our problems, but in the end, they died, thinking that I hated them.”

    “Baekhyun,” I say his name gently.

    His misty eyes are fixed on mine again.

    “Tell me. Why is it that you’re pushing yourself so hard for? People get their Ph.D.'s all the time, but not many of them complete their programs or commit to their dissertations.”

    He doesn’t answer.

    So, I continue, “you want to make them proud. You want to prove to them that your commitment to higher education is evidence that you love them. Even after they’ve passed because you never got to say goodbye, right?”

    His silence is loud. It makes me aware of my own heartbeat and the sound of blood rushing in my ears. It makes me even more aware of the fear that he may cut me off because our friendship has jumped several chapters.

    “I wanna be alone,” he rasps, diverting his gaze.

    I ignore the sudden sting that lashes itself right in the middle of my chest. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”

    But when I try to stand, I’m not able to. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing his head close to me.

    His lips tremble. “I never wanted you to see this part of me.”

    “I don’t care about appearances, Baek,” I reassure. “I won’t be chased away so easily. I value our friendship a lot, you know?”

    His breathing slows.

    “You’re still the coolest, older guy I know even after this. I think men who aren’t afraid to reveal their insecurities are the bravest men,” I add, offering him a comforting smile.

    Finally, a sliver of the barest smile ghosts his lips. Mission accomplished.

    “Your parents love you. They’re surely proud of you. And I’m proud of you. So where’s my favorite smile?”

    He’s smiling alright because when he kisses me, despite my stupor, I can feel the unmistakable curve of his lips.

    

---

 

[a/n] dun dun dun.

aaand the mystery continues bc notice how all of these are flashbacks???? heh. let me know if you like baekhyun's character bc i hate generic characters. leave an upvote if i made you smile at all during this chapter.

also oc is so smart i love her deductive skills!!!