[SANDEUL POV]

 

 

It's Thursday morning, and I'm woken up by the sound of pitter-patter on my bedroom windows and roof.

 

 

I fall out of bed with a groggy yawn, and stumble over to the window. My eyes are squinty at first, having just woken up, but they soon adjust and I peer out at the weather.

 

 

The sky is dark and menacing, and rain is pouring down at a steady pace.

 

 

Great, I think. A storm on my birthday, just as I hoped wouldn't happen. Lovely.

 

 

I get dressed and clean myself up, then go downstairs to fix myself something to eat. I place a bagel in the toaster, and when I open the fridge to pull out a glass jar of strawberry jelly, I hear movement coming from my mother's bedroom.

 

 

She's awake early today.

 

 

I quickly grab my bagel and wrap it in a paper towel, forgetting the thought of jelly altogether as I try to get out of there before she comes out of her room. I head towards the front door and pull on my shoes, and I'm just about to leave when I realize my school bag is upstairs.

 

 

I rush up as fast as I can to grab the bag and sling it over my shoulders, but by the time I get back downstairs, it's too late.

 

 

My mother stands in the entrance to the kitchen, thin arms crossed over her chest as she scowls at me. Her face is clear of make-up, her light hair pulled into a low ponytail that falls over one shoulder. A pair of flannel pajamas are draped over her thin frame, and I can tell by her appearance that she obviously didn't go out last night.

 

 

Yes, I hate when my mother is drunk.

 

 

But I think I dislike her when she's sober even more.

 

 

“Jung Hwan,” her sharp tongue cuts through the air, and I gulp. What the hell is she going to scold me for now?

 

 

“Yes?” I ask, and try not to let my voice quiver as I squeeze the strap of my school bag from where I stand in the living room.

 

 

“I got your third marking period report card,” she starts, and pulls out an envelope from where it was previously tucked under her arm, waving it in the air between us.

 

 

“O-oh,” is all I can muster out, and I blink a few times. My mind races back to all my grades from the last few months, trying to remember any bad scores or missed assignments. There aren't any that I can recall, but I might be forgetting something...

 

 

“Trigonometry,” my mother snaps, breaking my thoughts.

 

 

Oh. Right. I got a 91% last quarter.

 

 

.

 

 

Something flies right past my vision, and I shut my eyes and wince.

 

 

“Do you know what ing score you got, Jung Hwan?!” a voice that doesn't belong to such a small frame yells.

 

 

“Y-yes,” I stutter, clenching my hands tighter around the straps of my bag.

 

 

“A ing B! You got a ing B!” she screams, my eyes still closed. I can only imagine her flailing around, her face red and angry as she fumes. “That is COMPLETELY UNNACCEPTABLE!”

 

 

“Y-yes, M-mother...” I whisper.

 

 

“Mother?! MOTHER?! My son would NOT get less than perfect in ANYTHING,” she shrieks, and I feel her small hands reach out towards my own. She grabs my hands and dislodges them from my bag, then pushes my shoulders so I'm forced to take a few unsteady steps back. I guess it was the envelope that flew by earlier, because her hands are empty now.

 

 

I open my eyes, and her face is inches from mine as she yells, “Do you UNDERSTAND ME?!” I just nod quickly, unable to say anything any longer. My whole body is shaking and I'm trying to hold back tears.

 

 

 

Apparently, I should have said something, because I feel a cold sting on my cheek a second later.

 

 

“I asked you a question!”

 

 

I cup my now reddening face, recovering from the slap as I meekly reply, “Yes, I understand, Mother.”

 

 

“You are not my son,” she scoffs, and gives me a once-over. I don't look her in the eyes. I've learned by now that it hurts too much. What were once warm, loving, and comforting, are now icy and cold.

 

 

She turns around to head back to her bedroom.

 

 

I stand there a moment more, shaking a little too uncontrollably and feeling my eyes well up. I glance down at the crumpled report card on the floor, which she so deliberately stepped on on her way out.

 

 

I work so hard, spend hours studying to get good grades, just trying to please her.

 

 

But every single time, I never fail to be just a little less than good enough, and all that hard work flies out the window, leaving me with unappreciated results and a hearty slap to the face.

 

 

I grab my bagel off the counter and toss it in the trash-can, no longer hungry, then slip my shoes on and head out the door.

 

 

As I make the monotonous trek to school, my uniform and hair slowly soak through under the little protection my school bag provides.

 

 

I curse under my breath for letting myself forget an umbrella, and for letting my Trig grade slip, and for being born to this cruel woman.

 

 

Despite my attempt at holding it back, a single warm tear falls and glides down my stinging cheek.

 

 

I tilt my head up and close my eyes, letting it mix with the ice cold rain that pours down from overhead, and sigh.

 

 

Thanks for the happy birthday, Mom.

 

 

---

 

 

School wasn't the best either. Luckily, I had forty-five minutes in the library to let my clothes and hair dry a little, so I wasn't going to class soaking wet. However, I also spent that time studying (and pulling my hair out) for none other than my Trigonometry exam.

 

 

Which, was painstakingly difficult to take, with memories of this morning's occurrence playing through my mind.

 

 

Then, after a lunch filled with an over-excited, “Happy Birthday” singing Gongchan, I get stalked by Sunwoo like I do every day now. His stupid chubby fingers poke at my arm or my stomach or the back of my head or where ever he can, bringing on the largest headache I've had for a while. I swat at him gently until I just can't take it anymore and rattle off swear words, only making him laugh, as per usual.

 

 

I stalk off, and avoid him for the rest of the day, because goddamnit I just want to enjoy my ing seventeenth birthday.

 

 

It's when, walking home under an umbrella the librarian let me borrow, I get a phone call, and I think things might turn up a little.

 

 

“Are you on your way home?” Gongchan's perky voice asks on the other end of the line.

 

 

“Yes,” I voice over the loud splattering of rain on the plastic blue umbrella.

 

 

“Well, I need, um, help with homework... So could you, uh, stop by my house instead? ” he asks, voice hopeful. I laugh. He's so subtle.

 

 

“Sure, Channie,” I smile, and I hear him sigh in relief.

 

 

“Okay, see you soon,” he chirps.

 

 

“See ya,” I respond, and hear voices in the background before he hangs up.

 

 

I place my phone back in my jacket pocket, a goofy smile on my face.

 

 

Gongchan's planning a surprise party for me, and honestly I'm really touched. This kid is so adorable. It's going to be my first birthday party in years, and my first surprise party, ever.

 

 

Now I just need to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to act surprised.

 

 

---

 

 

When I ring the doorbell to my younger friend's house, through the bay window I see the lights go off. There's a minute where I'm just standing there, waiting, until finally the door opens and Gongchan's smiling at me.

 

 

“Come in,” he says, and I do what he says, slipping my shoes off as soon as I'm inside.

 

 

He closes the door behind him, and we're standing in total darkness. This cannot get any more cliché.

 

 

“Why is it so dark in here?” I ask, playing along. I can make out a small smile from Gongchan in the dim light before he turns towards the light switch.

 

 

Okay, time to act as surprised as possible.

 

 

The lights switch on and blind me for a moment, before I hear a loud “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SANDEUL!” coming from the other end of the room.

 

 

I put on my biggest grin and cover my mouth with my hands, as I face Gongchan's family. “Omo! You guys! You surprised me!” I exclaim, and Gongchan giggles and wraps his arms around my shoulders, completely falling for my “surprise”.

 

 

“Happy birthday, Sandeul,” he coos for what's probably been the seventh time that day. I discreetly roll my eyes and laugh.

 

 

“Thanks, Channie.”

 

 

I turn to the rest of his family, and Gongchan dislodges himself from my torso. His mother stands a few feet away, one arm around Gongchan's little brother, a smile lighting up her round face. “Happy seventeenth,” she says, and her voice and presence are warm and inviting as always, so much so that I feel slightly jealous of Gongchan.

 

 

I bow. “Thank you.”

 

 

She nods, and pushes Minwoo towards me just a little. The small boy, about 8 or 9, looks up at me through his dark framed glasses and smiles a toothy smile. “Happy birthday, hyung.”

 

 

“Thanks, bud,” I smile, and reach down to ruffle his hair.

 

 

Gongchan's father walks up to me then, and pats me on one shoulder. “Have a good one, son,” he says, and my chest wells up with this indescribable feeling. I look up at the man, and his shoulders are stern and his face set and cleanly shaved, and I wonder what it would be like to have a father guiding me through life. Someone experienced, strong, who can give me legitimate advice and scold me on what I should and shouldn't do.

 

 

Gongchan's a lucky guy.

 

 

We all file into the kitchen, then, and Gongchan pulls out a giant container from the refrigerator. He sets it on the dining table, then pulls off the cover to reveal a large rectangular cake, covered in white frosting and inscribed in blue icing, “Happy 17th Birthday, Sandeul!”

 

 

“Gongchan baked that!” Minwoo chirps, and I smile. Gongchan, who's currently helping his mother light candles, blushes a little.

 

 

“M-mom helped, Minwoo,” Gongchan countered.

 

 

We all sit down then, and everyone sings “Happy Birthday” before I blow out my candles. They all clap, and we dig into our healthy supper of chocolate cake.

 

 

I receive a few presents, a notebook from Gongchan's mother, and a pocket knife from his father that I “will use with responsibility and caution.” I accept both gifts gratefully. These people are truly too kind.

 

 

Later that night, after playing a board game with Minwoo and spending the rest of the afternoon on the computer with Gongchan in his room, Gongchan says he has a present for me.

 

 

“Two, actually,” he says, then jumps out of his seat and turns around with a devious smile to fish for something in his closet.

 

 

When he turns back, he's holding a pair of jeans in one hand and a shirt in the other.

 

 

He again gives me a mischievous grin, and hands the clothing to me.

 

 

“I bought these for you,” he states, and nod, then place them in my lap and pull the shirt up to look at it.

 

 

It's a soft cotton, light pink tee with such a wide neck that it most definitely falls off the shoulders. I guess Gongchan realized from our mall visit that I look good in this color. (If I do say so myself.)

 

 

Next, I pull up the jeans to examine them.

 

 

My eyes widen.

 

 

“Gongchan, this, uh...” I trail off. The pants are such a dark wash they're nearly black, and have thin slits all the way down the front and back of each thigh. They look about two sizes too small for me, and I think I may just get if I ever wear this.

 

 

He giggles. “Like it?”

 

 

I stare up at him from my chair, and I'm trying to think of what to say, but he continues before I have a chance.

 

 

“That's only the first part of the present,” he smiles, and claps his hands together.

 

 

More? I think. Hopefully the second one isn't quite as... risque.

 

 

He bounds up closer to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I flinch slightly, reminded of this morning, but his voice brings me back to reality.

 

 

“These clothes are to be used for the second part,” he starts, and I'll admit I'm a bit thrown at the statement. He giggles at my confused expression. “It's your birthday, it's almost the weekend, and so I thought we'd try something new.”

 

 

I stare at him.

 

 

“You're going to put these on,” he states slowly, gesturing to the fabric sitting in my lap, “And then...”

 

 

He pauses for dramatic effect.

 

 

“...we're going to a party at Himchan's.”

 

 

 

.

 

 

---

 

 

[A/N]: So here's Chapter Eleven, as promised.

 

 

Oh ho ho, the party shall soon start. :D What will happen? Let me give you a hint: a lot of things.

 

 

And oh! Did you guys watch SPY?! *drools* Eunhyuk is my bias... and that hat... and that crotch-swipe dance thing... and the guns, and then Siwon and Leeteuk... and just everything. /dead

 

 

Subbies and comments are loved, as always. <3

 

 

Thank you for the response to last chapter. You guys are amazing. ^^ Chapter 12 will be out tomorrow. (:

 

 

Annyeong! <3

 

 

P.S. In case you couldn't tell already, B1A4's ages are much different in this story then they are in real life. XD

 

 

P.P.S. I hate Sandeul's mom as much as you do. T_T