Mom used to say that life's a stage and we’re all performers. 

I get it now. Some people aren’t happy with the roles they’re given, but I- I could get used to this newly assigned role.

“What in the world?” I let out a laugh of disbelief, hopping down the stairs. 

Jeno greets me by the entrance of my new apartment complex, leaning against his bike and hugging a bouquet of roses to his chest. I’d be lying if I said my stomach didn’t flutter. I’ve been deprived of romance for so long, I forgot how nice it feels to be pined over.

“Good morning, beautiful.” His eyes curve into crescent moons and he’s so handsome I want to sock him in the face. Looking this good has to be a crime. 

“Morning to you too, bro.” I pat him on the shoulder and Jeno scowls.

“Jang-mi, please do not call me bro, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, not your friend.”

“Oh.” I pause. “Okay, dude.”

Jeno sighs, and I crack a smile, elbowing him in the side. “Well, tell me what you prefer. Baby? Honey? Sweetie? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who like being called something stupid like sugar puff, pumpkin, or oo.” 

Jeno snorts, handing me a helmet. “You know what, oo doesn’t sound too shabby. I think I’ll go with that.”

I scrunch up my face in disgust. “I will stab my tongue with a fork if you make me call you oo.”

“Mm, that won’t do. We need your tongue for other things.” Jeno winks at me and I scoff.

“If that was an insinuation that my tongue is going to be used for oral , I have to burst your bubble, pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy.” Jeno mocks me by pitching up his voice. “I think I like that one. And about the , don’t worry. I’ll keep it in my pants until you decide otherwise.”

“Good, because I’ll never decide otherwise,” I snort, mounting his bike and sliding my arms around his waist. 

“Hold on tight, princess,” Jeno orders, and I smile into his neck.

“I like princess,” I tell him as he revs up. 

“Alright, princess it is,” Jeno concludes, and off we go. 

Is agreeing to be in a fake relationship to make my ex jealous petty? 

Hell yeah, it is. But boy, do I love the look on Yeonjun’s face as Jeno walks me to class with his arm around my shoulders. 

We make split-second eye contact as we pass in the hallways and Yeonjun doesn’t even attempt to hide his scorned expression. Slamming his locker shut, he stomps away in the opposite direction. Jeno and I share a triumphant look and my fake boyfriend sends me off to class after a kiss on the forehead.

“Learn something.” Jeno pinches my cheek and I swat his hand away. “I’ll pick you up for lunch.”

“No need. I can go to you,” I tell him.

Jeno shakes his head. “The medical department is far. I don’t want you walking there.”

“Fine,” I cave. “See you in two hours.”

Jeno winks at me and then disappears down the hall.

Five minutes into my abnormal psychology lecture, my phone dings, and I pull it out of my pocket. It’s a text from Jeno, a rather cheesy one, but it makes me smile nonetheless. 

Jeno: I miss you already. 

Jang-mi: Cry about it. 

Jeno: Boo-hoo. 

I set down my phone to jot down some notes because I’m a star pupil, but only three minutes pass before my phone vibrates again. 

Jeno: Guess what I’m doing. 

Jang-mi: Other than distracting me from my studies, what? 

Jeno sends an explicit picture of a dead cat spread out on a surgical table, its intestines pouring out. I swallow a gag. 

Jeno: Looks like you. LOL.

Jang-mi: First, disgusting. Second, no it does NOT look like me. 

Jeno: Yeah it does, look at those yellow teeth. Exactly like yours.

Jang-mi: You’re awful. I’m going to strangle you when you come to pick me up. 

Jeno: Can you even reach my neck? 

A gasp falls from my lips. The flipping audacity of this man! My fingers fly across the keyboard. 

Jang-mi: How DARE you, Lee Jeno 

The annoying sends a picture of a minion, and I growl at my phone screen, garnering attention from my seatmate. I quickly shut off my phone and flash her a meek smile, returning my attention to the professor. 

“Sociopaths use intelligence, charm, or charisma to manipulate others.” Professor Suho reads off the PowerPoint. “They also lie for personal gain,” he adds, and my attention drifts back to my phone.

When it vibrates, I snatch it up eagerly, frowning when I realize it’s just a text from Jaemin. Ignoring it, I try my very best to focus on class, but I end up spacing out because Professor Suho drones on and on like an emotionless robot. 

I suppress a yawn then lay my head down on the table, chanting in my head that I’ll rest my eyes just for a minute. Just. For. A. Minute. Well, turns out my concept of time is effed up because a minute somehow becomes an hour, and I wake up to an empty classroom. 

Rubbing the back of my eyes, I realize there’s a jacket draped on my shoulders, and I Iook around to search for its owner. The grey hoodie smells like vanilla, and with no one to return it to, I have no choice but to take it with me. I make a mental note to post it on the school forum later and waddle out of the classroom with a heavy head. 

“There you are,” a familiar voice sighs. I glance up with half-open eyes and walk straight into Jeno’s open arms. “You weren’t answering my texts or calls.” He flicks my forehead and I yawn. 

“I fell asleep,” I tell him, and a soft smile flitters to his face. 

“Well, wake up princess. It’s time to do couple stuff,” he informs me, taking my hand and tugging me down the hall. 

“Couple stuff? What couple stuff?” I ask, almost tripping over my feet trying to keep up with him. 

“I don’t know either. Take a walk in the park? Go cafe hopping? Hate to break it to you but I’ve never been in a committed relationship, so you’re going to have to take the lead,” Jeno confesses. 

We stop by his parked bike, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m too tired, can’t you just take me home? I’m done with classes for the day anyways,” I whine, and Jeno pauses for a beat. 

“Okay, sure. But tomorrow’s Saturday and you have to let me take you out,” he demands and I wave a dismissive hand in the air. 

“Sure, whatever. You’re taking your fake boyfriend role really seriously,” I comment and I notice how his laugh is quite breathy and how his tongue sticks out to wet his dry lips. 

“Mm, let’s just say that this is a fun learning experience,” Jeno tells me, and I get on his bike. 

“Okay, Jeno,” I murmur, laying my head on his back and shutting my eyes. 

“Hey, what happened to calling me pretty boy?”

“Okay, pretty boy,” I groan. “Now shut up and take me home.”

Some days, I wake up sad. 

When I was eight, I thought it was because my mother figure suddenly poofed out of existence. When I was thirteen, I thought I was sad because of the mean comments about my weight and crooked nose that girls from my school would post on their social media. It was only when I turned seventeen, that I realized there was a chemical imbalance in my brain. It’s no biggie, really. At least I try not to make a big deal out of it. 

Dad took me to a clinic that had yellow smiley faces painted on the walls and a Live, Laugh, Love sign on the receptionist counter. A quick chat with a woman in a lab coat and I was given a bottle of yellow pills. I’ve been on them since I was seventeen, and I still take them to this day. 

Seventeen was also the age I met Yeonjun, and he was the only other soul other than my dad to know about my bottle of sunshine pills. On days I felt a little blue, Yeonjun was always around to lend me his shoulder to cry on and he held my hand until I found the strength to turn yellow. 

I woke up sad today, and now I stare into space, knees tucked under my chin because Yeonjun is gone from my life and I have no one to run to. 

Letting out a small sigh, I stare at my phone screen, watching it light up and fade black over and over again. 

Jaemin’s name flashes on the screen, and I don’t have to read his texts to know that he’s angry with me. We had plans to have breakfast together today but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my bed this morning. 

I’m a blob on my bed, wrapped in my daisy flower print covers, trying to muster up the power to will away the little rain cloud over my head. 

I’m just about to drift off back to sleep when I hear someone yell my name. The yelling is accompanied by loud banging on my front door, and panic clogs my throat as I fall off my bed. 

Scrambling to the front door, I yank it open so hard, it almost falls off the hinges.

Jeno’s first reaction is to cringe at my unappealing appearance. “You look awful,” he says and I roll my eyes.

“Really? No, good afternoon, Jang-mi! Or how was your morning?” I scowl at him and Jeno brushes past me and enters without my permission. He makes a beeline for my bedroom, sticking his head through the door and nodding approvingly.

“Queen-sized bed. Not the most spacious, but hey- we can make it work,” he comments, and I smack him on the shoulder. 

“You should wash that dirty mind of yours with soap,” I scold him and he chuckles.

“The headboard is bolted in. I like that.”

I cover my ears with my hands. “Ugh, stop it. I haven’t eaten anything today, yet I want to hurl.”

Jeno tugs on one of my pigtails and then falls to my desk chair, powering on my computer. He shrugs off his leather jacket and adjusts the collar of his turtleneck, getting comfortable in my bright yellow rolling chair. 

His midnight eyes wander around my bedroom. “Is yellow your favorite color?” 

I get why he thinks that. Almost everything in my bedroom is either fully yellow or at least has specks of the banana color. 

“Yellow supposedly induces happiness,” is all I say and Jeno shrugs it off. 

“My favorite color is blue,” he says, clicking away at my computer. “But not any type of blue, I’m not basic. My favorite is the shade of blue M&M’s.” 

I can’t contain the laugh that escapes my lips. “That’s awfully specific.”

“Mhm,” Jeno hums absentmindedly, and I ask.

“How did you get my apartment number?”

“I asked Jaemin. We’re besties now, did he not tell you?”

I scoff. Jaemin would never replace me. “How did you enter the building? You need a keycard.”

“I called in a favor. I know a girl who lives here so she buzzed me in,” Jeno replies.

“How many girls have you slept with?” I scrunch up my face and watch him pull up a Google browser.

“Mm, I don’t keep count. Let’s just say a lot,” Jeno replies and I roll my eyes.

“I guess you’re deserving of your Medical Major Manwhore title,” I retort. 

“Yup- your internet connection , by the way.”

“I’m a poor college student, give me a break,” I snap at him, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the edge of my bed. “What are you even doing on my computer?”

“I’m pulling up your search history to see what kind of you watch.” His pink lips curl into his trademark smirk that I so dearly long to smack off his face. 

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of ,” I humor him and Jeno barks out a laugh.

“Yeah, you seem like that type.” He turns around slightly to beckon me closer with a crooked finger. I huff as I move to hover behind him, and Jeno points to the screen. 

“I made a Pinterest board,” he announces and my brows knit. He clicks into a Pinterest board labeled “JJ couple” and a bunch of smoochy cliche couple photos fill my computer screen. 

Jeno smiles up at me with shining eyes. He’s obviously proud of- whatever this is. “I did my research and this is what couples do,” he tells me, and I reach over to take the mouse from his hand, scrolling through the gallery. “If we want to seem legit, we’ll need to live out real-life couple experiences.”

“You’re dedicated to this ruse,” I hum, and Jeno shrugs. 

“I’m a 110% effort type of person,” he informs me and I laugh softly. 

“Alright, pretty boy. Where are we headed today?”

Those dark eyes light up and Jeno reaches up to pinch my cheek. “First, you’re headed to the shower because we both know you stink and you need a bath,” I growl at him, and his chest trembles as he chuckles. “Then we’ll go to the aquarium because Pinterest says staring at fish with a girl is considered romantic.”

I giggle and head to my bathroom. “Romance is dead, Lee Jeno. It’s the 21st century.”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles, swiveling around in my chair. Before I shut the bathroom door he calls out. “Want me to join you? I can scrub your back!” 

I playfully roll my eyes. “I'd rather drink the bottle of bleach in my sink cabinet!” 

“Don’t do that!” Jeno bellows and I laugh as I step into the shower. The blue rinses away with the water and I step out feeling like today is a good day to be yellow. 

Lee Jeno is a boy whose favorite color is blue M&M’s and who is fascinated by fish. 

I swear, this man skips around the aquarium with childlike wonder and a glimmer in his eyes. He oohs and ahs at the different colored fish and makes me read aloud all the infographics. 

“It’s dead.” Jeno knocks a knuckle on the glass tank and I let out a defeated sigh. 

“For the hundredth time, Jeno. It’s not dead, it’s probably just sleeping.” 

“What kind of fish sleeps upside down?” Jeno asks, and I squint to inspect the clownfish that is floating around belly side up. 

“Oh,” I murmur, Jeno and I sharing a brief knowing look. “Yeah, maybe it is dead.”

“We should say a little prayer,” Jeno suggests, and I humor him by clasping my hands together and shutting my eyes. 

“Dear God, we ask that you watch over Mr. Clownfish in death.”

“Mr?” Jeno and I both peek open