|Chapter Eight|

Jong-in wasn't sure of how to act once Mone arrived to the usual classroom; he admits it: he was a jerk to her when he was not in any kind of position to be. His rude remarks were uncalled for, his glares were unnecessary, and his sarcastic jeers were absolutely horrendous, he figured. He cocked his head, sitting alone in the classroom, waiting for Mone to arrive, figuring that it was her, this time, to be late. He started to feel a worrisome churn in his stomach flop; was she okay? Did she slip on her way here? Where was she?
Jong-in was getting out his cellphone, ready to call the girl's brother to simply inquire about Mone's whereabouts when the girl herself finally decided to show, a wide grin spread across her glossy lips; her eyes twinkled happily as she adjusted her glasses, plopping into the seat beside him. "Guess what!" she cried cheerfully.
Jong-in cocked a puzzled brow at her. Had she already forgotten their mishap from earlier today? He nodded his head acknowledgingly, lettng her know that he wasn't in the mood to guess. "You seem cheery, uh?" he remarked, smirking broadly. "Spill."
"Kikwang-oopa asked me out on a date! Whoa... daebak! We're going to meet at Boba Time tonight!"
If Jong-in was eating or drinking something, he was sure he would've spit it out upon hearing her declaration. Jong-in's dark eyes examined Mone's happy attire, watching her wear that grin, oblivious to the hidden, sinister truth that lay behind Kikwang's proposal. Not only that, but hearing her call the wretched boy oppa, it made him sick; he didn't care if it was Chanyeol, or if it was Chen she addressed as oppa, but when it came down to someone like Kikwang, he wouldn't allow it. However, he was so flustered by her enthusiasm, he couldn't manage to fully process his words, so in the end, he could only manage to sputter out a soft, "B-bwoh?"

Mone nods happily, "Mm! Daebak, right? Ohh, I'm so excited!"

"Mone-ah," Jong-in begins carefully. To ease the future tension that was to follow, he let out an uneasy laugh. "I don't think.. you should go tonight. You should at least take somebody with you."
"Mwoh? Waeyo?"
"I'm just saying," Jong-in argued defensively against her pertruding glare. "It might not be what you think."

Jong-in knew she wasn't going to believe what he heard during lunch; it'd just cause another un-needed fiasco that he'd have to fix, and that was the last thing he was looking forward to right now.

"Are you seriously telling me that Kikwang-oppa might be setting me up?"
"Okay, first, can you stop calling him oppa? Kikwang doesn't deserve to be called that, okay? He doesn't even deserve an honorific," Jong-in snorted.
"Kai-shii!"
"I'm just saying!" Jong-in cried, holding up his hands. "Kikwang isn't who he says he is-"
"Save it!"

Mone's nostrils flared angrily as she gazed at him with disbelief and hurt gleaming in the irises. Jong-in tried his best to relax himself, softening his gaze on her, and slumping his shoulders over. He gripped the edges of the table, to refrain himself from making unnecessary actions. "Mone, please. I'm trying to pay you back for raising my English grade. Just listen, Mone-ah," Jong-in pleaded carefully. "Kikwang is a total player; he's gonna end up making you wait in that cafe all night. He's not going to show-"
"Why do you have to constantly try to ruin my mood?" Mone demanded. Jong-in didn't realize how sensitive Mone really was until now, seeing that her glossy eyes were already b with fresh tears. Jong-in mentally cursed himself, hearing her continue her monologue. "If you want to be nice, and show your gratitude, you can at least side with me on this one-"
"I am on your side! I'm just trying to avoid getting your heart broken tonight!" Jong-in cried in protest.

To be honest, he wasn't sure why he was even bothering. If she wanted to go, let her be; she won't learn unless she experiences it, right? Even if she had to learn the hard way, she will mature from this. Even though Jong-in found these reliable points, he didn't want to risk seeing Mone hurt over such a petty matter -- or at all, for that matter. Mone wasn't just a tutor anymore -- not to him, at least. He found her as somebody else that was going to be a part of his life for another long while. He couldn't pass this up.

"Save it," she cut in, objecting. Her glare was even scarier to him now that her eyes held flowing tears.
"Mone.. this is how it goes: he's just another kingka known for his playboy reputation, and you're just another-"
"This session is over! Good luck on your exam, Kai-shii.. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jong-in gaped at Mone incredulously. "Mone-ah!"

"I'll see you... Kai."

Jong-in rubbed his face tiredly, watching after Mone as she stormed out of the classroom angrily. He mentally slapped himself upside the head, still feeling a bit taken aback that she was frustrated enough to drop all forms of honorifics with him.. Aish, this girl.. Jincha.. Aish!

That following evening, Jong-in found himself buried under all the stacks of packets Mone had given to him to study, suffocating under the scraps of paper on his bed. He watched his pet dog waltz into his room jubilantly, whimpering, holding a tennis ball in . Jong-in somehow found his way out of the pool of multi-coloured papers and took his canine friend into his arms. "Dubu-ah," he murmured, cooing the familiar name. "What do you think oppa should do, hm?"
The young beagle could only whimper some more, placing her tongue on all the surfaces of his handsome face. Jong-in set her down on his bed, allowing her to explore the crevices of his navy blue blankets. "Aish," he muttered, scratching his head.

He laid his back flat against the mattress, feeling the small paws of his dog dig into his shirt as she sat on his chest, nudging her wet nose into the crook of his neck. "Dubu," Jong-in whined, wiping off the doggy saliva. He continued to pet the beaut, scratching her fur as he let his mind wander to Mone. He figured that while he was on his bed, playing with his dog right now, she would be gettng ready for her bogus date. He figured that in ten minutes, when he was finally going to start homework, she'd already be at the cafe, waiting for Kikwang to show, awaiting his arrival that was to never come. He figured that in half an hour, when he was going to be downstairs for dinner, Mone would still be in the cafe, lonely and now growing worried for Kikwang.

"Jong-in ah!"
"Ye, umma?"
The elderly woman walked into the teenager's messy bedroom, shooting him a glance. "Dinner is ready... oh? Is something bothering you?"

Jong-in looked at his mother, eyeing her. Her eyes definitely resembled his; the two of them shared the dark abyss like optics, for sure. "If you knew you could stop someone from being really hurt emotionally," Jong-in began, "would you willingly go out of your way to stop it?"
His mother nodded, without a second to think over it. "Of course. Waeyo?"

Jong-in bit his lip, setting his dog onto the ground. "I don't think I'll be having dinner tonight, umma, mianhe."
He saw his mother's eyebrows raise. "I have to.. stop someone from getting their heart broken.. or if it's too late, at least try to mend it," Jong-in sighed, explaining vaguely to his mother his current dilemma.

"It's a girl, isn't it?"
"Umma-"
"You like her, don't you?"
"Umma!"

Her laughter echoed through the corridor as he made his way down his stairwell, grabbing his car keys from the hook by the door. "I'll be back later tonight, umma! Enjoy dinner with appahji!" Jong-in found himself practically jogging to his car parked in the driveway; he eagerly slipped into the car, brushing off all the excess fur Dubu might have left on him, taking out the bottle of cologne from the cupholder and splashing some on. He messed with his hair before pulling out entirely, speeding off into the direction Boba Time, the cursed cafe. Aish, this girl..

On his way there, he was barely lucid; he couldn't comprehend why he wanted to go out of his way, when he was clearly busy, just to comfort Mone. He knew she was going to be heartbroken by the time he would reach the cafe, he knew that she decided to go there on her own stubborn will, he knew that it was going to be troublesome, but to be frank, Jong-in figured he didn't care.
He figured it was worth it. Mone was worth going out of his way for, she was worth his time, and she was worth the trouble he had to go through.

Why, he didn't know, he just knew it was true about her. She was worth every moment and he was going to have to take advantage of knowing that.

And it seems he arrived just in time. The cafe's exterior was made up of clear glass, windows you could easily see in and out of. And at the corner of the cafe by the front window, he saw her. She was already puffy-eyed. His gaze tore from her pitiful figure to the clock blinking up at him from the dashboard. 

7:30 PM.

It made him wonder what time Kikwang must've told her to come to get her this teary eyed so early into the evening. He watched her for just a moment longer, watching her wipe away furious tears with the napkins provided for her, watching her stab at her snack with her chopsticks, and watching her grip her cup tightly. Jong-in could almost feel the sadness overwhelm him, just watching her. Realizing that she was going to be too stubborn to move and figure that Kikwang was a no-show, Jong-in did one last 'once-over' of himself in the mirror before slipping out and into the small shoppe.
He deliberately ignored the waiters' fake smiles and walked to where Mone was, leaning against the booth opposite of hers, watching her sternly. He blinked at her, deciding that he wouldn't say a word; he wasn't going to do anything until he was noticed.

Mone kept her head bowed, crying into her hands, occasionally wiping her tears with the crumpled tissue in her hand. Jong-in guessed that the tissue she had was getting too ragged since she lifted her head to grab another, until she saw him standing there, a sad smile perched across his thick lips, eyes pitifully fixated on her poor silhouette.
"Kai-shii."
She exited the booth, standing before the taller male, who looked down upon her silently, lifting his brow. And that one gesture was all it took; at that very moment, when his expression changed from one that was pitiful to one that was demeaning, their wall of hostily came crumbling down. The wall they held up between each other suddenly vanished; the barrier of distance, coldness, venemous remarks, sarcasm, and hatred came tumbling down, because immediately after he changed the way he looked at her, she bursted into more tears -- sobs, now, instead of silent weeps. And soon enough, Jong-in found her crashing into his chest, arms wrapping feebly around his waist, tears wetting his shirt. He ignored the staring customers, and continued to stand there, returning her hug.
She rested her head lightly on his chest, letting out all the steam pented up within her, letting him silently comfort her with his embrace; she stood there, crying into his chest, quietly letting him know of her pain and humiliation, and Jong-in simply stood their, nuzzling his nose into the contents of her apple-scented hair, rubbing soothing cirlces on the small of her back. Finally, he pulled away, rubbing the tears off her stained face with his calloused thumbs, and he shook his head, laughing pathetically to himself though his nose, quietly, and under his breath. "Yah," he whispered, poking her forehead casually. "Aish," he breathed, taking in her disheveled appearance. "Pabbo-yah," he scolded quietly.

He let his hand caress her cheek one last time before he pulled her into another consoling hug, holding her tight; he needed her to know that he was there for her right now, needed her to know that he was going to be there for her. He ran his hair comfortingly through her tangled locks, patting her head as softly as he could. Looking at her int his kind of state, for some reason, really pained him to see.

"Aye, pabbo," he muttered into her ear, "what did I tell you?"