Lee Jeno is a big fat liar. 

I wake up alone, despite his promise to be around in the morning. There’s a post-it note stuck to my forehead when I wake up, and I peel it off to read his scrawly handwriting. He writes that there’s another “emergency” that requires his attention and that there’s breakfast in the fridge. In all caps he also demands I text him when I wake up.

I trace the lopsided smiley face he drew and groan as a lovely headache decides to ruin my morning. The cold shower I take does nothing to ease my hangover and I end up massaging my temples with a banana as I force myself to drink the smoothie Jeno made. 

Laying my head on the table, I scroll through my texts and reply to one from Jaemin saying that he’s on his way to pick me up. We have no class today but we’re both in the Student Council and there’s a scheduled meeting to discuss the upcoming Halloween carnival. 

It’s in two days and I still have no idea what’s going on, which is alarming considering that I’m supposed to be on the planning committee. 

Jaemin arrives in his red convertible, sporting large sunglasses and a baseball cap. 

“Why are you dressed like a hitman?” I snort, sliding in the passenger's seat. Jaemin grumbles incoherently, revving the car and driving us to campus. 

“Because I haven’t washed my hair and my under eyes look like I haven’t slept in a year,” he yawns, and I prop my feet on the dashboard, getting comfy. 

“Maybe we should cut down on drinking,” I suggest.

Jaemin scoffs. “As if we have the mental capacity to do that, Jang-mi.”

“Unfortunately, not,” I sigh, thinking back to how I never understood the allure of alcohol back when I was a sheltered and naive kid. Now, I wish I could inject soju into my veins. 

Jaemin drums his fingers on the steering wheel, mouth dropping open to reply when a blur of movement shoots towards us and our bodies collide.

Jeno: Are you still asleep or did you forget to text me? 

Jang-mi: I’m alive

Jeno: Okay. Good morning, baby

Jang-mi: :( 

Jeno: What’s that supposed to mean?

“You’re all set, sweetie,” the campus nurse pats my good leg and I wince at the sight of my bandaged ankle. On the bed to my left, Jaemin raps into his phone, caught up in a heated discussion with his parents who are threatening to sue the reckless driver who crashed into us. 

We’re both fine. It could have ended up much worse if Jaemin didn’t swerve away at the right moment. My ankle took one for the team but I take responsibility for that because I shouldn’t have had my feet on the dashboard in the first place. Jaemin only has a couple of glass cuts on his left arm and his sunglasses actually protected his face from the impact. 

His car is a whole nother story. The entire front is smashed and Jaemin is livid. Smoke comes out of his ears as he yells into his phone, frustrated at anything and everything about the situation. 

The dude who crashed into us is on the opposite end of the room, protected by a drawn curtain from Jaemin’s creative insults. 

My phone vibrates violently and I huff as I read Jeno’s texts.

Jeno: Where’d you go? 

Jeno: I’m worried.

Jeno: JANG-MI

Jang-mi: Chill, dude. Jaemin and I just got into a minor car crash. Some idiot drove right into us.

Jeno reads my message but no speech bubbles appear. Instead, his name flashes on my screen and my ringtone fills the air. 

Upon answering, he immediately barks in my ear.

“There’s no such thing as a minor car accident. Where are you?” 

I can hear rapid footsteps and his heavy breathing, so I repeat that I’m fine. Mentally at least.

“I asked for your location.” Jeno’s tone is rough and my heart drops to my stomach. He’s upset.

“Main Campus Infirmary,” I reply. 

“On a scale from one to ten, how concerned about your physical health should I be?” Jeno demands and I stare at my wounded ankle.

“Four,” I blurt, not wanting to worry him. Abrupt pain shoots up my leg when I wiggle my big toe and I squeak. “Okay, maybe like 100.”

Jeno curses under his breath. “I’ll be there in five. Don’t you dare die on me, I just got you.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “I’m not going to die-.”

He hangs up on me before I can finish my sentence, and I kid you not, three minutes later, Jeno barges into the room, clutching his helmet and wrapped in a skintight leather jacket. 

He sighs with his whole body when our eyes connect. He doesn’t ask if I’m okay, he just grabs me by the face and shines his phone light directly into my eyes. 

“What are you doing?” I grunt, swatting his hands away. Blinking to clear my vision, Jeno pats down my body, stopping at my bandaged ankle. 

“Did you take a hit to the head? Any hard impact anywhere?” He asks, his tone concerned yet placid.

I shake my head aggressively. “Just my ankle.”

“Alright,” he breathes, pinching his nose bridge. “What exactly happened?”

I don’t get the chance to reply because Jaemin thunders. “That ing bozo across the room drove right into us at 30 miles per hour because he was texting while driving!” 

My best friend growls at the drawn curtain and I reach over to pat his arm. “It’s fine, Jaemin. At least we’re all okay.”

“Okay?!” Jaemin exclaims. “Cherry Bomb is as good as dead!”

“He named his car Cherry Bomb,” I quickly explain to Jeno, whose eyebrows have furrowed. At least ten different expressions grace his features, starting from annoyed to very irritated, morphing to relieved and concerned, and now to immense fury.

Jeno marches across the room and throws open the curtain to reveal the idiot who caused all this kerfuffle. The dude cowers on the bed as Jeno jabs a finger at his frightened face. 

“Here’s what you’re going to do, . Take your driver's license and a pair of scissors, then cut it in half and burn it. Next, you’re going to walk your to the bike store and get yourself a bicycle with training wheels,” Jeno snarls, his shoulders trembling as he tells him off. “And if you ever, forgive me, God, endanger the lives of others because you’re too impatient and answer a text while driving again, I will sue you and bleed you dry.”

“I will also sue you!” Jaemin screeches and I wave my hands around in panic, desperately shouting at them to calm down. 

“Be ing grateful that your reckless behavior only caused my girlfriend a minor injury,” Jeno growls, and the poor dude bows his head in sincere apology. 

“Get over here!” I snap at him, motioning Jeno over. “He’s sorry!” 

Fuming, Jeno stomps back over to my side and plops down on the edge of the bed. Our eyes connect and even though his irate expression makes my chest tighten, I squeeze out a smile.

“I’m fine, pretty boy,” I sigh, and Jeno runs his fingers through his disheveled hair. 

“Yeah, you’re fine, but all I can think about is that I’ll have to carry your heavy around for the next few weeks,” Jeno snides, and I let out a loud gasp.

“Well, you!”

Those gosh darn pink lips curl into a frown. “Don’t ever make me worry like that ever again, got it?” 

I playfully roll my eyes. “Gee Jeno, this must be so hard for you. Might I remind you that I’m the one with the sprained ankle!”

“Mm,” Jeno grunts, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, his featherlight touch making me in a breath. “I care about you, you .” He rubs my chin between two fingers and I get reeled in by his obsidian eyes, drowning deep. “You’re so incapable of taking care of yourself, it pisses me off.”

“Well,” I murmur. “Good thing I have you around.”

“Damn right.” Jeno shakes his head with a small smile, and I lean into his warm palm. 

It’s a damn good thing.

Whenever I got hurt as a kid, my Dad would always tell me to it up and walk it off. How exactly do I walk off a sprained ankle? 

“Sunbae! Do you have a roll of tape?” 

An underclassman of mine flounces towards me at full speed, her pigtails flying in the wind. I rifle through the basket of supplies and hand her the tape, then she screams a thank you and gallops away. 

Cute girl.

I get one second of peace before another request is thrown at me. “Jang-mi! I need a marker!”

It’s been Jang-mi this, Jang-mi that, Sunbae please, Hoobae faster, for over an hour. The courtyard is bustling with students, everyone working on decking out the place with plastic cobwebs, pumpkins, and fairy lights. 

While others balance on ladders and lift each other up to reach the trees, I’m sulking on a bench with crutches by my side and a basket of art supplies. 

“Jang-mi!”

“Hoobae!”

“Sunbae!”

Three people simultaneously call for my attention and I throw my hands in the air, exasperated. 

“Grab it yourself you lazy twits!” I growl, and they gingerly reach into the basket, grabbing what they need while cursing at me under their breaths. I don’t give a flipping . I have been sitting on my for hours on end. My cheeks are pancakes! 

A sunbae of mine pats my head reassuringly, her soft smile easing a bit of my bitterness. 

I sigh when my phone vibrates. 

Jeno: Where are you?

Jang-mi: Hell

Jeno: Seriously. I’m done with class, coming to get you 

Jang-mi: Courtyard 

Jang-mi: You better break all the traffic laws to get here. I might sprain my other ankle out of boredom

Jeno: LOL

Jang-mi: I’m not joking.

Jeno: I’ll run all the red lights.

Jang-mi: Perfect 

“Hey.”

My fingers freeze over my keyboard, and I take a deep breath, rearranging my features into a neutral expression. 

Slowly tilting my chin up, I meet Yeonjun’s dark gaze. He clears his throat. “Need a pair of scissors.”

“Don’t have one,” I immediately blurt, dropping my attention back to my phone. Go away, I chant in my mind. Just go away. 

Yeonjun lets out a dry chuckle. “There’s one in the basket.”

My arms protectively curl around the plastic. “It’s reserved,” I snap and Yeonjun’s pouty lips curve into a half smile.

“Give me the scissors, Jang-mi,” he sighs and my eyes shoot daggers at him. 

“No,” I bark. I’m not giving this dickhead anything.

“You’re such a brat,” Yeonjun grunts, grabbing the scissors from the basket and stuffing them in his back pocket. 

“And you’re a cheating bastard. What’s new?” I snarl and Yeonjun winces at my harsh insult. His cat like eyes crinkle in the corners and the afternoon breeze tousles his hair. I can’t help the inkling desire to run my fingers through his thick hair. It’s second nature. But my hatred for him has amplified the longer we’ve been apart, and now I yearn to grab him by the neck and shave his head until he resembles an egg.

“You haven’t been answering my texts,” Yeonjun tells me, eyeing the empty space to my left. I swear to God if he even attempts to take a seat by my side, I’m going to whack him with my crutches.

“I blocked you,” I inform him, keeping my voice level and firm.

“Oh,” he mumbles, inhaling sharply. “Well I- some of my stuff is still with you. Can I have them back?”

“Can I have my ity back?” I scoff, scowling at him. Seriously, he cheats on me by ing some other girl in the apartment we bought together and now he wants his stupid stinky sweatshirts back? 

Yeonjun’s jaw ticks, eyes hardening. “Jang-mi, you can’t hate me forever.”

My lips twitch to suppress the frown. “Watch me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Jang-mi!” A chirpy voice interrupts our moment and Yeonjun swivels around on his heel, marching away and colliding with Soobin’s shoulder. 

Soobin makes a face and drops to the space beside me, crossing his long legs. “What do you need?” I ask him, rubbing the back of my neck to compose myself. 

Yeonjun makes my heart heavy. Fortunately, Soobin’s dimpled smile lifts my spirits.

“Nothing,” he says. “You just looked alarmingly distraught so I thought I’d come to save you.”

A relieved laugh bursts through my lips. “Thank you. I almost choked myself to death.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Soobin raises a skeptical eyebrow and I shrug.

“Won’t know until we try.”

He chuckles wryly then jerks his chin at my bad ankle. “How’s that feeling?”

“Not bad,” I confess. “My period cramps are much worse. I just can’t walk because my doctor yelled at me and said it’ll delay the healing process and cause complications like arthritis and according to him, he'd rather chop off my foot than let me live with arthritis.”

Soobin blinks blankly as he absorbs my ramble. “Sounds like you have a terrible doctor.”

I snort, fiddling with the string of my sweatpants. “By doctor, I mean my boyfriend. He’s a med student.” 

“Ah.” Soobin nods slowly, his lips pursing to form a heart. 

“Yup.” I pop the p, a habit I got from my doctor boyfriend. Fake boyfriend, my mind doesn’t fail to remind me.

Soobin crinkles his nose, inhaling deeply. “Is it weird if I say that you smell really good?”

I laugh at his unexpected compliment, lifting my wrist to his nose to give him a better whiff. “It’s Chanel. My boyfriend got it for me. He claims this is what Heaven smells like.”

Soobin’s doe eyes curve into crescent moons much like Jeno’s when he grins, and he takes my wrist in his hands, nose gently rubbing against my skin as he inhales my perfume.

“Smells like roses,” he muses, and I nod.

“It’s a blend of-.” My response is interrupted by a rough voice.

“Why are you sniffing my girlfriend?” 

Soobin and I snap our heads up to see Jeno glare at our connected hands. Leather jacket, perfectly imperfect hair, and a chiseled jaw that cuts through diamond, the sight of him makes the knot in my chest uncoil. Pulling my hand back, I reach out to grab Jeno’s pinky. 

“Finally!” I gasp, my whole body rejoicing his presence. “Dude, you have to get me out of here.

“How about you introduce me to your new friend first, dude.” Jeno furrows his brows and I push myself onto my feet. 

My fake boyfriend is swift in wrapping an arm around my waist to support my weight, and I lean into him to keep myself upright. 

“Choi Soobin.” Soobin does the work for me, and the two share a civil h