Bad Behavior
Chapter Three
Yongguk POV

Even if I didn’t drink each night, the headaches that kid gave me were twice as bad as any hangover. I had been a teacher long enough to know his type. He was a rich and spoiled brat who thought that he didn’t need an education because he could buy a diploma. What got me annoyed the most was the fact that he could. .

If I had been a highschool teacher (if I hadn’t offed myself from the stress) I wouldn’t have taken a single day of his crap. Each day after we finished up his homework, Jongup, the kid’s nanny I presumed, would bring us snacks. If Junhong wasn’t in the mood to watch TV, he’d either go out to skateboard or go up to his room to do god knows what. On those days, Jongup stayed to talk to me. That’s when I learned about him.

“He’s acting out for attention,” Jongup said as he fussed over a smudge on the glass table. He was the kind of guy that couldn’t sit still. One of the types that had to always be doing something with their hands. Most people either had idle hands or idle minds.... It was clear which of the two Jongup possessed.

“What kid doesn’t?” I replied. Pulling a cigarette from my pocket, I gestured to it. Jongup shook his head quickly and ushered me outside. Sitting on the porch, we could see Junhong down the driveway attempting some kick-flip over and over.

“Junhong’s really bad about it. He doesn’t get along with other kids too well. He’s a loner,” Jongup said sadly. Looking at the young man, it was obvious how much he cared.  I assumed he had a brotherly relationship with Junhong. Bless his soul; he was a more patient man than me. Letting Junhong’s snide comments roll off my back like water to an oil spill was killing me. If he didn’t get me to quit within the month, surely I’d go into cardiac arrest from the stress.

“He’ll grow out of it. They all do,” I assured him. Raising his head, Junhong looked back at us. He was too far away for me to really see his face, but I could tell he was staring me. He was always doing that, to the point where I had developed a complex about casually running my tongue over my teeth to make sure there was nothing stuck in them. By now he had to have each of my features memorized, so I didn’t know what he was searching for, but I wished he’d hurry up and find it.

The sounds of gates opening sounded, and Junhong high-tailed it back to the house faster than I knew was possible. Passing his skateboard off to Jongup he grabbed me by the tie and pulled me into the house. He threw himself onto the couch and opened the nearest book. Helplessly, I looked for a makeshift ashtray. Jumping up Junhong took the addictive habit away from me as his mother entered the room.

Hiding it behind his back instantly, Junhong nervously looked at her. Stepping closer to him, I smiled my most charming smile at her, all the while working my wallet out of my back pocket and passing it to the boy to snuff out the cigarette before she could see the wafting smoke.

“How’s it going today? The benefit was canceled, so I figured I’d come home ea--- Why does it smell like smoke?”

Junhong and I met eyes for a second as I opened my mouth to fess up, but he cut me off.

“Dad. He was smoking in the house again,” he said quickly. Her eyes narrowed as she tossed a glare in the direction of the study.

“Excuse me for a moment, continue studying,” she said stiffly. Her heels clicked with purposeful steps as she stomped off in a dignified manner toward the study. Once she was gone we both breathed a sigh of relief. Shoving my wallet toward me, he collapsed back onto the couch. I dropped back into my bag to hide the evidence.

“Here, at least look like you’re studying,” I commanded, passing a pile of random flashcards at him. He nodded reluctantly, and soon was flipping through a pile of dates from the Bosnian conflict. Mostly I just brought notes and workbooks that I had from my college days, but I hadn’t expected him to ever really use them.

Jongup waved me over nervously and I excused myself from Junhong for a moment. He grunted in response, his eyes lazily scanning my slanted scrawl. Once across the living room, Jongup  roughly pulled me into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. “Junhong has asthma--- That’s why Mr. Choi doesn’t smoke in the house.”

My eyes widened in surprise, as I peeked back into the room where the pink-haired teen sat studying. “If it’s that bad, should he be skateboarding?” I replied, shutting the door without a sound. Jongup shrugged helplessly, droopy eyes falling to the ground. He was the type of guy you could read from the moment you met him. It was nice, and made him easy to get along with.

“He likes it. His parents don’t know that he does it, so I let him when they’re both busy. He already can’t do gym at school--- And you know, sitting around all day will drive someone crazy! I make him take breaks, though, I promise,” he explained. Sighing, I nodded. Returning before Mrs. Choi caught my absence, I looked at him.

Now that I observed him closely, I noticed all the more that he was as thin as stick, and probably weighed just as much as one too. His bratty air took away from that, and the way he carried himself confidently. I never would have guessed that he was a sickly kid. Either way, I didn’t mention it, and we finished up with me explaining Bosnian life during the Balkan upset to him, and him faking an interested face.

After receiving pay from a tired-faced Mrs. Choi, I went on my way to enjoy a weekend free of teenagers and elitists. It marked the end of the first week tutoring Junhong. I had three to get through before I could quit with my pride intact. My mind wandered back to Jongup’s words, and Junhong’s behavior. Was the kid lonely or something? No, I was just reading too much into it.

Sighing, I caught a taxi home for some much needed rest.

But unfortunately for me, I went from babysitting one kid to another, as Himchan felt the need to drag me to the mall with him on Saturday. “I need socks,” he insisted, as though it was so terribly important that I had be dragged along. Heaven forbid that Kim Himchan not match perfect down to his undergarments.

With a hoodie to hide my unwashed hair that would soon need to be bleached again, I followed him from store to store, each one more overpriced than the last.  “What do you think of these ones?” he asked, holding up a pair.

“They’re socks.”

He groaned, turning away from me. “You’re impossible!” he cried out, as he held up two more pairs to compare.

“They’re ing socks, Himchan!”

He smacked me and I shut up. “I’m going to go get something to eat. Meet me in the food court when you make up your mind, princess.”

Rolling his eyes, he waved me off. “You’re getting pretty chubby, Yongguk. Soon you’ll be demoted from Prince Charming to one of the three little piggies!” he called after me as I went.

As if being toted around as a fashion consultant for an hour hadn’t been bad enough, the food court was packed to the bursting with people. Crying babies and annoyed mothers rushed about, and worst of all, packs of teenagers inhabited the majority of the tables. Ignoring my whining stomach for a while longer, I opted for a smoking break.

Making my way outside, the chilly fall air felt nice. It was still cold enough for the silk spiders to be hiding away, which was no skin off my back. Bugs had always given me creepy crawly feelings just at a glance. Silk spiders were the worst. Just thinking about them made my shoulders tight. Quickly, I moved toward the designated smoking area.

“Do you want to try one, Zelo?”

Hearing the sound of voices, my ears perked up, but I thought nothing of it.

“Come on, don’t be a baby, Zelo.”

As I rounded the corner, the first thing to catch my eye was a mop of pink hair. Beside him were two older boys, one with piercings through his nose and lips, and the other with his head shaved. They looked pretty shifty, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, the skinhead was extending a cigarette to Junhong. My student, Junhong; Asthmatic Junhong.

“Ya!” I shouted before I even had a chance to think. Jumping at my voice, soon three pairs of eyes were on me, and one pair was just a bit wider than the others. Marching over, I glared at the boy who had offered him the cigarette. “Do you have any idea how old this kid is?” I spat.

Beside me, Junhong turned fifty shades of red, as he held the burning cigarette at his side. Pinhead put on a tough face as he lurched close to me. “Who is this guy, Zelo?” he growled, barring decaying teeth at me. Junhong glared at me, clenching his jaw tight.

“I’m the guy that’s going to kick your skinny little asses if you don’t get out of here in the next five seconds,” I answered before Junhong could get a word in. Ripping the cigarette from his grasp I tossed it on the ground without a care. Looking back up, my eyes narrowed like an animal catching sight of its prey. “You’re still here?”

“Who do you think you are?” Junhong snapped from beside me. A few more threats and the guys finally separated from us. Turning to Junhong, who was roaring mad judging by his posture and flaring nostrils, the first thing I did was smack upside the head. Crying out, he rubbed the spot, repeating himself, “Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I retorted, stomping on the cigarette that lay abandoned on the ground. He crossed his arms, glaring at me.

“Whatever the I want to do.”

I smacked him again.

“Don’t swear.”

I was so mad he was lucky I just smacked him hard enough to hurt, and not to leave brain damage. After a day of sock-shopping on an empty stomach, this was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

“You’re a hypocrite,” he growled.

“I’m an adult.”

“That’s a bad reason.”

“But a valid one. Under nineteen? Then you can’t buy cigarettes. Pointless to start then, don’t you think? Your body’s still growing. It causes cancer. There’s a thousand reasons why this is a stupid idea, including your asthma. Forget about that?”

I must have caught him off guard since he stared at me with wide eyes. Using his speechlessness to my advantage, I picked up his skateboard in one hand and grabbed his wrist in the other. I dragged him along despite his protests, gripping his skinny wrist tightly.

“Are you going to tell my parents?” he asked as I shoved through crowds of people. I was not in the mood to be polite. Tossing a glare over my shoulder at him, I sighed.

“I really should,” I ground out. I dragged Junhong to clothing store to clothing store in hopes of finding Himchan. He was better at this sort of thing than me. He was good at keeping his calm and winning arguments by making the other person feel like an incompetent wretch. He truly was the best lawyer in Korea.

“What do you want? Money?”

I stopped abruptly, causing him to bump into me. I let go of his wrist and he ripped back toward himself, rubbing the red mark bitterly. “Ya... Show me some respect, you little brat,” I demanded. He drew his lips back into a thin line as he looked away from me. Taking his other wrist in my iron grasp, I made a U-turn back toward the food court.

The first table was full of teenage girls, laughing loudly and taking pictures of themselves with their phones. I slammed a hand down on the table, making them jump. “Hey, why don’t you girls go take a walk,” I told them through gritted teeth. Scrunching up their faces as they went, they complied, whispering insults under their breath. I pushed Junhong down into a chair and sat across from him.

“Listen to me for a second. Smoking will ruin your life,” I told him, rubbing the bridge of my nose. It was something I did to relieve headaches, but unfortunately I had a walking headache pouting at me from across the table.

“You do it,” he pointed out smugly.

“And do you think your hyung’s living the good life? Hm? I’m living in a crap apartment, single, with my source of income being tutoring a rich little brat. Every morning I cough my brains out, and the closest thing to going out I’ve had in the past three months is sock shopping. Shopping for Himchan’s god damn socks!” I was raising my voice, and more mad than I should have been. It was the stress of everything coming out at once. The only thing I regretted was telling Junhong enough that he’d have something to work with when he was trying to make me squirm.

“Wait here,” I grumbled, rising to my feet. Junhong had since dropped his eyes down to his lap, and remained that way, hiding behind his bangs as I went. I checked over my shoulder every so often to make sure he hadn’t bolted, but he stayed just that way, not moving a muscle.

The only food kiosk without a line was a salad place. Sighing, I threw together two of them, being sure to get plenty of everything, not really sure what he’d like. Juggling the salads and my phone, I texted Himchan to tell him where I was and to pick up a few things. Finally, I made it back to the table, salads and sanity just barely intact.

“Eat.”

He didn’t give me any trouble after that. Hesitating a bit, he did as I said, picking up the fork and picking at the food. I had since lost my appetite, and having missed out on my cigarette break, I mostly just fidgeted. We didn’t talk, but he kept glancing over at me. The second our eyes met he’d drop them away, or pretend to be looking elsewhere, so I just stopped looking at him.

“Are you going to eat the tomatoes?” he asked at last, his voice small. “They’re my favorite.” I shook my head, passing the salad over to him. He plucked each of them up, popping them in his mouth and looking away like he was embarrassed. We had gone from fighting to being terribly awkward.

Himchan soon interrupted. I wasn’t quite sure if he had saved the day, or made it worse, but I didn’t the chance to think it over. As soon as he reached the table, the first thing he did was pull out his socks to show them to me. “Aren’t they great? I finally found the shades that I wanted,” he said excitedly. I raised an eyebrow, considering all three of them looked black to me, but I had learned a lesson about saying what I thought.

“They’re nice.”

Himchan wasn’t an idiot. He knew I didn’t share his enthusiasm, but it didn’t make him any happier about that face. His smile faded into a scowl as he stuffed them back into the bag “I got what you asked for, you could at least fake better. Why did you want th---”

From across the table, Junhong sipped his water, which was close to empty. The slurping sound alerted  Himchan of his presence and he whipped around to look at him. Opening his eyes wide, he looked back to me, his expression begging for an explanation. I didn’t have one, since I hadn’t really planned on adding another kid to my babysitting job for the day.

“Ah... I’m Choi Junhong, hello,” Junhong said softly, bowing his head. It was weird to see him act like a normal kid, and I was almost jealous. How come I didn’t get the same respect he showed Himchan? Scoffing, I looked away as Himchan explained who he was.

“So, you’re the one who got him the job?” Junhong asked, tilting his head to the side. Proudly, Himchan sat a little taller, nodding his head. Junhong crossed his arms over his chest, slumping back in the chair as he looked me in the eye. “Well, I recommend looking for a backup job. Mr. Bang’s going to quit.”

Himchan whipped toward me, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. “What?” he half shouted. I glared back at the kid, who grinned in return. I shook my head, reaching across the table to stab the last cherry tomato in the plastic container. Popping it in my mouth, and swimming the smugness that came from Junhong’s scowl, I spoke.

“No. I’m going to keep this job for a long time. No matter what.”

It was only then that I took the challenge Junhong had extended to me. He wanted me to quit, and I wouldn’t give him the pleasure. Someone had to knock the kid down a notch and show him what it was like to deal with real people. He was like Rapunzel, locked up in his tower and isolated from the world.

There was just something about Choi Junhong that took me out of my element. I found myself childishly bantering with him, or getting overly upset over little things he said or did. But at the same time, I found myself thinking about the kid a lot, worrying about this and that. I had only known him for a week, but he had pulled me into the web of his little game perfectly.

Himchan must have been pretty confused by that point, because Junhong continued our competition without words, and with stares instead. The one who broke the eye contact first would be the loser. There were unspoken stipulations and terms that didn’t need to be discussed. Somehow we just knew that we couldn’t lose.

“Well...” Himchan said at last, waving his hands in between us. We both blinked, but put on faces like we hadn’t. “As thrilling as this is--- Why is Junhong here again?” Himchan asked, always straight to the point and after the facts. Junhong’s eyes were boring a hole in the side of my head, while I contemplated how to answer that.

“Life lessons. Junhong’s just so enthusiastic about learning that he sought me out,” I said with a grin. A snort from Junhong, and puzzled stare from Himchan and we decided to throw away the garbage. Junhong, now stranded without a ride, was stuck with us, and got to spend another half of the day picking out ties with Himchan.

Junhong enjoyed it more than me, I guess, since he offered real comments about which ones looked better on him, and about fabric and other stuff. I started tuning them out after an hour. Junhong’s bitterness seemed to disappear when he was talking to Himchan, but he always had a snide comment for me if I chose to say anything.

He was trying to get to me. But I refused to give him the pleasure. And Himchan? Well, I was sure that he was going to have a thousand questions after we dropped the little brat off. HEll, I had a thousand questions myself. I wasn’t acting like myself, and I was wondering if I was trying to cope by regressing or something. But that would have been too logical; and there was nothing logical about arguing with that kid.

After ties, we moved on to video games so Junhong could buy some things. Luckily, he was quicker than Himchan, and more decisive too. Or rather, indecisive and rich. He decided he’d buy everything that looked kind of good, and if he didn’t like them, he’d give them to Jongup or something. Ah, the “logic” of teenagers.

“How come Mr. Bang doesn’t buy anything? I know my mom’s tipping you a lot,” Junhong asked suddenly, slipping the bag over his shoulder. I didn’t reply, and simply shoved my hands in the pockets of my hoodie. I was tempted to snap at him, to tell him about bills, and fees, and other adult responsibilities, but he had tired me out to the point where I didn’t have the energy to do so. Instead, Himchan interjected.

“Divorce is expensive.”

I was surprised that Junhong dropped it as easily as he did. I assumed it was because he was trying to look good in front of Himchan, but I didn’t care about the whys and ifs. I was just glad to get a break, and for the day to finally be over. I didn’t even feel like drinking, just taking a nap. Rubbing my temples I followed them through the parking lot to Himchan’s car.

I went to open the door, but skinny fingers beat me to it. “I call shot-gun,” Junhong declared. I raised an eyebrow, and took a moment to contemplate the seriousness of his words. To prove it, he opened the door and hopped in as Himchan put down the roof of the convertible.

“Oh, no. Get out, kid,” I demanded, pointing my arm to the right. He smirked up at me, but made no moves to hop out. Sighing, I opened the car door, and wrapped an arm around him, picking him up with ease. Huffing he squirmed as I set him down. He grabbed my arm to pull me away from the car, and somehow we got into a little bit of a pushing fight. He was light and easy to move, but he had longer arms than me and could get around me pretty easily.

“Alright, children!” Himchan shouted at last. I had Junhong’s wrists in a vice grip as he squirmed, trying to kick my shins. Halting, we both looked over at Himchan who impatiently tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Rock, paper, scissors before I make you two both sit in the back and hold hands the entire time.”

I looked at him, and Junhong looked back at me. I don’t think he liked that idea any better than I did, since he dropped his hands just as quick as me.

The rounds went rock-paper, paper-rock, paper-scissors. Biting my tongue to keep from cursing, I nearly demanded a rematch. Happily, Junhong through his arms in the air, rushing to get in the car before I had the chance. Himchan snickered from behind the wheel as I squeezed into the back, folding up my legs. Pushing down his sunglasses, he smirked at me in the central mirror as he pulled out of the parking spot.

“ you,” I sneered.

“I told you; You’re demoted to a piggy, and that’d be . That’s a crime everywhere except Denmark and Norway,” Himchan said as-a-matter-of-factly. Rolling my eyes, I slumped against the back of the the seat as the wind took my hood off. Himchan liked his flashy cars, and his flashy clothes. Personally, I thought sportscars were annoying, especially Himchan’s bright pink one.

The drive went better than I expected. Himchan and Junhong agreed on a popular station that played rap. It wasn’t Himchan’s favorite, but he was in a good mood. I, personally, liked rap songs, so what little I could hear over the roaring wind was pleasant enough. Himchan and Junhong chattered with each other, talking about anything and everything, from business law to skateboarding.

They were getting along so well. That really confused me too, because Himchan hated kids. I had been given a hundred-thousand lectures as to why he never wanted children, never wanted a wife because then he might end up with children, and how children were the worst ones to defend since it was too easy. Yet, here he was, buddying it up with the brat who had decided to make my life hell.

It wasn’t that I was jealous of their goodtime. I didn’t much care if Junhong and I ever got along, but they were both acting so different. Himchan was probably up since it was the son of his boss, but I couldn’t figure out why Junhong was acting so nice to him. What was so special about Himchan? I just didn’t get it.

Needless to say, I didn’t participate in the conversation much. I was lost in my head, trying to decipher what Junhong might have been trying to tell me by the way he was acting. I was reading too much into it; I always read too much into it. But it really killed me! Just watching them put me in an even worse mood. My voice of reason told me to let it go, but I just couldn’t.

I had been too lost in my thoughts to see even Junhong’s eyes ever floating up to the mirror to peer back at me.

It wasn’t long before we made it back to his house. Himchan decided that it’d probably be best to drop him off by the gate, so that’s what we did. As Junhong was leaving, Himchan jumped with a sudden thought. “Oh! Wait, I forgot something!” Himchan exclaimed, leaning over the center console and into the back to grab for the shopping bags. Junhong lingered beside the car, his arms resting on the side, centimeters from my own.

“Here,” Himchan said, extending a face mask to him. It was light blue with a negative black sign on it. Glancing at it, Junhong furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh...! Thanks, hyung!” Junhong bowed his head, grinning. “But when did you get this?” he inquired. Himchan shrugged.

“Yongguk asked me to get it.”

I opened the door, pushing Junhong back enough for me to get out. I didn’t look directly at him as I climbed into my rightful spot in the front. “Wear it when your friends are smoking. Lots of kids wear them as fashion statements these days,” I told him, slipping my hand into my pocket to put a cigarette between my lips.

Junhong stood there, staring at me like an idiot, lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Himchan had a similar expression as I tapped my fingers on the outside of the passenger door. “Ya,” I glared over at the driver in question, “Are you going to drive? Or just sit here all day?” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re wasting gas,” I grumbled.

Himchan nodded, saying another quick good-bye to Junhong as we left. From the rear-view mirror, I watched as Junhong disappeared. The entire time he made no moves to leave the spot, as if rooted to the ground on which he stood, staring down at the mask.

Once we were far enough away, and I had finished my cigarette, Himchan’s smiling disposition fell away. “What the hell was with all of that?” he asked. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to exactly, but I didn’t have an answer to any of the events.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope.”

With a sigh, Himchan dropped the subject. After he dropped me off at my apartment, I could only wish that I could drop the subject. But instead my brain was ridden with replays of Junhong’s displays from the day. I didn’t understand how he could go from angry, to shy, to laughing, to a total brat so much within just a few hours.

“Hormones,” I told myself. “Gotta be those teen hormones.”

Solving that issue as I pulled out another cigarette, I was left with only one other question.

“So... What’s my excuse?”

Haha, Bad Behavior is almost at the 30 page mark already! Isn't that crazy? I'll try to update again by Monday, please anticipate it!