[A/N]: This is a REUPLOAD of a chapter that got wiped out by maintenance.

 

 

This is also the last reupload, so after this all chapters will be new, for those of you who read all the way up until the maintenance crash.

 

 

[I'm pretty sure mostly everyone missed this chapter, since it was posted only an hour or two before everything was wiped out.]

 

 

Enjoy! (:

 

 

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[SANDEUL POV]

 

 

I grab my hoodie and quietly slip out the door, trying to avoid my mother catching me in doing so.

 

 

It's Sunday morning, and I woke up too early – precisely 7 AM. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I gave up and dragged myself out of bed. I made myself pancakes for breakfast (yes, I can cook – when my mother is the only person you're living with, these things are necessary to survive) and now I'm heading outside. I figure a long walk would be refreshing.

 

 

I'm wearing the outfit Gongchan suggested I buy yesterday. The shirt is a pale pink color, and I think I'm starting to like this color on me. It contrasts the jeans, which are dark and tight and make me feel like a girl, but they're also soft and comfortable at the same time. I think I'm going to start shopping with Gongchan more often.

 

 

Besides, yesterday was a lot of fun. I let loose and basically just enjoyed myself, which I haven't done in a while. Gongchan's a really good friend. I could tell he wanted to protect me and make me happier, and I'm already feeling a lot more relaxed than I was on Friday, after everything that happened with Sunwoo.

 

 

Ugh, I don't even want to think about him.

 

 

I step lightly down the sidewalk, and at this hour, there aren't very many people out. The sun is still low in the sky because sunrise was only a little while ago, but when I look up, it's completely clear of clouds. I think to myself that we're probably due for a storm soon. It is spring, after all, and all of these nice days in a row have to come to an end sometime. I'm just hoping it won't rain on my birthday.

 

 

Which I just realized, is in four days.

 

 

Ah, . I honestly am not looking forward to my birthday.

 

 

Why? Because one, Gongchan is probably going to make a HUGE deal out of it. These kind of things get him all worked up and excited, and he'll probably go all out with a crazy party and endless gifts and some stupid cheesy handmade card. Unless he doesn't know...

 

 

Have I ever mentioned my birthday to him? I can't remember.

 

 

So I just won't bring it up. Let's hope he doesn't know.

 

 

And back to the reasons why; Two, I get almost nothing from my family. (Which is to be expected, I guess, when my family consists of two people.) My mom usually forgets, but on the rare chance she does remember, her choice of “celebration” is usually offering me a glass of wine and making a toast.

 

 

Thoughtful, huh?

 

 

And the only other family I really have is my dad. He's off somewhere in Japan, making business deals for his company and trying to make enough money to pay off child support. Most years, he just sends me a card, something store bought with the only hand-written message being, “From, Dad.”

 

 

No, not even, “Love, Dad.” Just “From,” because love is nonexistent in this “family.”

 

 

Some years, I don't get anything from my father. But that's okay, I guess. My birthday doesn't really mean much to me anyway.

 

 

My converse scuff along the pavement as I make my way across the street and over to the playground at this end of the park. I stupidly forget to check for cars, but luckily it's so early in the day that there aren't many people out driving, so I don't get run over.

 

 

I step over the curb and into the wood chips that make up the ground of the play area. I take a seat on one of the plastic blue swings, my hands gripping the metal chains. I kick my feet off the ground a little and begin a light, calm swing. The slight breeze as I ascend and descend slowly makes me feel content.

 

 

I look around me. There's barely anyone here, the only company I have being a pregnant woman sitting on a bench as she watches her son, who looks to be about five, repeatedly go up and down the slide.

 

 

The woman smiles, and the boy calls out to her as he slides down, giggling. “Umma! Look at me, umma! Look at me!” he waves his little hands in the air, and the woman laughs as well.

 

 

“I see you, Kyu,” she coos from her spot on the bench, eyes crinkling up in the corners.

 

 

I smile softly, the sight endearing. I wonder where that woman's husband could be, thinking that he's the only thing missing to make this quite the perfect picture. My curious mind comes up with a list of possibilities.

 

 

Maybe he's at home, preparing a meal complete with healthy meats and vegetables, and he's going to arrive any minute now and bring the food for his son and wife. They'll spread out a blanket on the grass outside the playground and enjoy an early morning family picnic.

 

 

Or maybe he's at work, taking calls and filling out paperwork. He'll be in a crisp suit and tie, looking and acting professional, earning money to keep his family comfortable. Then he'll go home later that day, and his persona will completely change, and he'll be a fun and loving father to his son, and a sweet and romantic husband to his wife.

 

 

Or maybe it's not a perfect picture. Maybe he's long gone, traveling the world, exploring every place he can, as long as it's away from his divorced wife and abandoned son. In due time, the smile on the mother's face will fade, and so will the carefree attitude of the son. The boy named Kyu will grow up lonely and insecure while the mother slowly loses herself in a world of alcohol. They'll both be lost.

 

 

I purse my lips and kick the wood chips underneath my feet. I've stopped swinging now, and I've just been sitting there, watching the mother's face for any sign of fear or sadness as my mind wanders.

 

 

My thoughts stop, though, when suddenly, if possible, the mother's face lights up even more at something that appears to be behind me. I crane my neck just slightly, not wanting to give away that I've been watching her, to look behind me. And there is where I see a tall man, with strong shoulders and a plastic bag in each hand, walking towards the woman.

 

 

The woman stands up, and calls to her child, “Kyu, Appa is done getting the groceries, so we have to go home now.”

 

 

The boy finishes what is probably his twentieth slide, then hops up and runs over to his mother. She takes his small hand, and together with the father, they safely cross the street and start up the sidewalk, opposite the way I came. I watch their backs, listening as the man asks if they had fun, and the boy responds with enthusiasm, skipping along. The man laughs a deep, happy laugh, and after that the woman turns to him and requests to take one of the shopping bags. The man refuses and they bicker for a while until they're out of my earshot. A minute or so later, they're each holding one handle of the bag, and it swings between them as they disappear around the corner of a building.

 

 

I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.

 

 

Not everyone has the same situation as you, Sandeul.

 

 

You were just unlucky.

 

 

The cloudless sky suddenly seems so very interesting to look at. My gaze wanders at the expansive blue, looking for nothing in particular, but still looking for something. It seems so perfect, a deep blue that gets lighter at the horizon, but seems to go on forever, void of flaws. But then I see a plane, and a bird is flying a little to my left, and it makes me think about how nothing is ever really picture-perfect.

 

 

I have to remind myself that I'm not the only one with flaws, no matter how alone I feel.

 

 

I resume my swinging, my feet pushing me off the ground as I grip the chains. My eyes are now closed and I'm once again relishing in the feeling of the wind blowing over my face as I go forward, and running through my hair as I go backward.

 

 

Then two hands land on my shoulder blades and all of the sudden I'm flying forward much faster than before, making me slide straight off the swing and on to the ground.

 

 

Thankfully, I land on my feet, and I spin around on my heels to face whoever the hell just did that.

 

 

And not to my surprise, it's Sunwoo who's standing there with his cocky grin and styled blonde hair, hands in his hoodie pockets as he looks at me.

 

 

I narrow my eyes and glare at him, yet he just grins wider.

 

 

“Do you own this park or something?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

 

 

I pretend the question is rhetorical and turn my back to walk away. I don't want to deal with this guy right now. My mood is already low.

 

 

“Hey, I asked you a question, loser,” he demands, and grabs my wrist, spinning me around.

 

 

I sigh. “Look, Sunwoo–” I begin, but he cuts me off.

 

 

“Don't call me that,” he growls and tightens his hold on my arm, and I'm actually kind of scared there for a second. The expression on his face is genuinely angry. “Everyone calls me Baro, so call me that.”

 

 

I tug my arm out of his hold before it bruises, and fold my arms over my chest. “But Sunwoo is your real name,” I retort.

 

 

He raises an eyebrow. “And is Sandeul your real name?”

 

 

I glance at the ground. The bastard was right.

 

 

“Exactly,” he says, taking my silence for an answer. “So don't call me that, or I'll call you Jung Hwan, which, by the way, is an awful name,” he spat.

 

 

How the did he know my real name?

 

 

“How the do you know my real name?” I seethe, now looking up at him. (Yes, unfortunately he's slightly taller than me.)

 

 

Now it was his turn to look away. “I, uh, pay attention to like, school papers and things. I saw your real name there,” he said, nodding his head as if to assure himself.

 

 

I squint my eyes at him. Damn bastard.

 

 

“Uh huh,” I say, unconvinced, “sure you're not just stalking me?”

 

 

His face reddens. “Why the hell would I stalk a loser like you? And how do you know my real name, anyway?”

 

 

“I don't know, Gongchan told me,” is all I say. I walk past him and over to the swing I was at before, and sit down. I'd leave, because Sunwoo obviously isn't going to, but I really don't want to go home right now, so I decide to give up and make myself comfortable.

 

 

When I look back at him, his face is contorted into a confused expression. “Gongchan?” he asks, “Is he that freshman you're always with?”

 

 

I nod, and begin a shallow swing again, dragging my feet on the ground as I go.

 

 

“Oh. Okay,” is all he says, and then he takes a step closer. He glances at my position on the swing and breaks out into that stupid grin again. I just want to throw him into the street.

 

 

“Too fat and lazy to stand any longer?” he snorts.

 

 

I roll my eyes, not letting his stupid banter get to me anymore. I stare off into the distance, watching the few cars that pass by and blatantly ignoring Sunwoo's question.

 

 

A few seconds later, he's crouched on the ground in front of me, obnoxiously poking my knee every time I swing towards him.

 

 

“Yah, knock it off,” I snap, still not looking at him, but I can probably guess he's smiling stupidly.

 

 

“Mmm... nah,” he says, and yep, I can hear the smile in his voice. What the is wrong with this sadist?

 

 

He keeps poking me, and now he's got a rhythm down, pressing a finger to one of my knees, and then the next time I swing forward, he taps the other. So I stop swinging. I close my eyes and take a staggering breath, calming my frustration.

 

 

“Hehe, you're getting angry,” he giggles.

 

 

I once again resist the temptation of tossing him into the street to be hit by a truck.

 

 

When I open my eyes, he's still kneeling in front of me, looking me in the eye with – hey, I bet you can't guess – a cocky grin plastered on his face.

 

 

I sigh. “Why are you even here?”

 

 

He shrugs, the smile fading. “I live right over there,” he points in the direction opposite of my house. “I came out for a walk, and just like last time, saw you and decided to come annoy you,” he stated, almost proudly.

 

 

“Go find someone else to annoy,” I snap.

 

 

“Nah, no one's as easy to pick on as you. I mean, you're fat, ugly, completely anti-social, and now that I look at you up close,” he starts, and leans in closer to my face, squinting his big eyes, “you look sort of like a duck.”

 

 

I lean back a little. His face is probably less than six inches away, which is way too close for comfort.

 

 

“A duck?” I ask, “Really, that's your best insult?”

 

 

He shrugs again but doesn't back up, “I'm just stating the truth... Sanduckie,” he chirps, grinning at the achievement of creating the new nickname.

 

 

I groan. Great, now he's going to call me that forever.

 

 

He giggles.

 

 

I really want to cut his throat.

 

 

“Will you just leave already?” I snap, staring him straight in the eye, “I was trying to enjoy my morning in peace.”

 

 

Sunwoo smiles and leans in even closer. “Sure, but not until after this,” he says slyly, and begins to lean in closer.

 

 

I back away.

 

 

What. The hell. Is he doing?

 

 

He continues to close in on me, and my feet step backwards as I sit on the swing, desperate to create more space between us.

 

 

He's faster than me though, and soon there's only centimeter's between our faces.

 

 

My eyes are wide and his are deep and dark, and I'm just about to scream my head off at him when he cracks a smile and

 

 

 

 

reaches up and flicks me straight in the middle of the forehead.

 

 

“Ah!” I scream, and he shoots up and runs away laughing as I clutch my stinging forehead. “ing bastard!” I curse as I try to keep my balance on the swing while holding my head with both hands.

 

 

“Ahaha, that was great! You were totally freaked out,” he laughs, holding his stomach from where he stands fifteen feet away.

 

 

I glare at him, but it turns into a wince as the facial expression makes my head hurt.

 

 

He laughs harder, “Oh, god, you're so much fun,” he chuckles.

 

 

I decide I'm really going to kill him now.

 

 

I shoot up from my swing and begin to stomp forward, but the headache makes me waver.

 

 

“Alright, alright,” he grins and holds his hands up in front of him, “I'm leaving now.”

 

 

I glare at him again, that seeming to be the only thing I can do at the moment.

 

 

He giggles some more. “See you later, Sanduckie,” he chirps and waves, and runs off towards were he said his house was, grinning.

 

 

I'm going to kill him.

 

 

I will murder him.

 

 

I stand there and huff loudly, mumbling under my breath my plans of homicide and exactly how I should dispose of the body. Then he's out of sight, and I sit back down on my swing, rubbing the spot on my head that's probably now bright red.

 

 

Things are going to be different.

 

 

That insolent bastard is going to get a taste of his own medicine.

 

 

I cannot wait until school tomorrow.

 

 

---

 

 

[A/N]: So we're back to Sandeul's POV, and he's got a whole new attitude. ^^ What do you think? :D

 

 

And hmm... what could his plans for revenge be? ^^ Ooh I know! I know!

 

 

Comments and subscribers are love and both encourage me to update faster <3 Thank you for reading (:

 

 

[BTW!: I planned out the first major arc of this story, down to a summary of each chapter. It's 35 chapters long (and full of amazing drama ;D plus a lot of fluff XD), and there will be two major arcs. I haven't started my map of the second half yet, but I'm guessing this fic is going to end around chapter 70. OTL It's so long... I hope you amazing people don't leave me by then... *cries* D'x]