[A/N]: Gray font = flashback ^^

[GONGCHAN POV]

I'm not so sure what to think about Sandeul.

Lately, he hasn't been himself. The Sandeul I met at the beginning of this year was quiet, reserved, and from what I know, only showed his emotions to me. If something bothered or frustrated him, he'd tell me, and that rarely even happened.

But now that he's fighting Sunwoo back, his personality is changing.

He still complains to me, especially at lunch, where he seems to be way fired up about whatever happened with the boy he likes to call “bastard”. He flails his arms, raises his voice, and widens his eyes whenever he raves on about what happened that morning.

But I've noticed, when I pass by them in the halls or when they bicker in the cafeteria, that Sandeul is starting to fight right back. Yes, he told me he was planning on getting revenge, but I didn't expect this 180 degree personality turn-around. He's shooting right back at Sunwoo, instead of ignoring him or shrinking into his shell like he used to.

And yes, maybe it's a good thing that he's becoming more outgoing. Being shy and meek was always something my best friend had a hard time dealing with.

But I can't help but resent the fact that Sunwoo is drawing his personality out. I'm not sure if it's jealousy – whether that's from Sandeul giving more attention to Sunwoo instead of me, or the fact that I'm not the one making him open up – or just pure best-friend instinct telling me that Sunwoo's no good.

I honestly can't tell you.

It's just bothering me. Not a lot, but enough to make me wonder if I should say something.

For now, though, I'll keep quiet. After Monday, it appears I have some things of my own to deal with anyway.

Since Saturday, the day I went to the mall with Sandeul, I can't stop thinking about my feelings toward Shinwoo.

As I walk to school Monday morning, everything once again plays through my mind.

Shinwoo is three years older than me, a senior with a big dorky smile and even dorkier square-framed glasses, and has lived next door to me for eleven years.

He and I have been friends for nine years, I've been in love with him for three years, and he stopped talking to me a little less than six months ago.

Honestly, I don't know much else to tell you about him. I myself don't know what to think anymore.

In the past, I can tell you of at least fifty different instances where I cried because of him.

In third grade, because he pushed me down his staircase and I ended up with an ugly skinned knee.

In fifth grade, because when we went to Lotte World, he told me I was too young to ride a roller coaster with him.

In seventh grade, because he made me fall in love with him, and I had to not only deal with realizing my uality, but I had to protect myself from bullies that picked up on my femininity.

Oh, and there were many instances when I'd lay awake at night, crying for hours because god dammit, I was in love with my best friend, who was also a boy, who was also three years older, who also would never, ever feel anything for me.

It slowly killed me inside – it really did. And him being my only friend, I never had anyone to go to.

But after all of that, none of it even came close to the pain I withheld when he stopped talking to me altogether.

Only a week into freshman year, and he just completely drops all contact with me. He ignored every single text I sent, every call, every plea in the halls of the high school to just please explain what the hell I did to make him leave.

I never got an explanation, though, so here I still am, left in the dark to wonder what I did wrong.

At some point during these past months, I decided it was probably because he was embarrassed to be around me. I know he's never been the most popular guy around, but he's definitely higher than me on the social latter. After all, this year was the first time we were both in the same school together.

He just doesn't want anyone to know we're friends. That's what I force myself to think, anyway, because I need to get over him. If he's going to leave it at that, then he was never worth it, right?

If he cared so little that he can just cut ties with me, he's not right for me, right?

I know that's what I should be thinking, but its hard, when you've loved someone for that long. I'm trying, though. Sandeul's trying to convince me to just give up on him, but Sandeul doesn't know. He's never loved someone. And Shinwoo, I went through so much pain and suffering, all for him, and that in itself is enough to make my heart clench at the sound of his name.

I still love him. I do.

But I need to get over him. It's been six months, I think it's about time I've moved on.

These are my thoughts as I step through the dreaded halls of Sung Hwa, my bag slung over one shoulder as I slug along. The chirp of kids talking animatedly hurts my head. It's ing Monday morning. You should all be zombies right now, not songbirds.

I grab my first period books out of my locker, and throw them lazily into my bag. Glancing into my locker mirror, I notice I have bags under my eyes and my hair is still in the position it was in when I woke up. To lazy to do anything about it, though, I simply close my locker and start the trek to History class.

However, I'm stopped in my tracks by a tap on my left shoulder, and when I turn around, I have the fleeting thought that I should have fixed my hair.

Standing in front of me, dressed in a Sung Hwa uniform and a heart-stopping smile, is none other than mannequin-guy, Jinyoung.

“Uh, ah...” I stutter, staring at him with wide eyes. This guy goes here? What the hell!? Since when?!

He chuckles at me, and I gulp, tightening my grip on my bag. “Hey, Gongchan, remember me?” he asks, curiosity in his voice.

I blink at him, then try to compose myself, looking away. “Ah, yeah, Jinyoung, right?” I ask, as if that face wasn't burned into my mind already.

“Yep, that's me,” he declares, then winks, and all of the sudden I remember how this guy isn't just some pretty face, he's also hell of a ton awkward.

I don't feel so flustered anymore, and chuckle. “How could I forget you?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

He grins as if that's a compliment.

“So,” I ask, looking him up and down and gesturing towards his uniform, “You go to school here?”

He nods and bites his lip. Cute.

I squint my eyes and tilt my head, studying his face a little more. “Err... Senior?” I guess, and by the twinkle in his eyes I can tell I hit the nail on the head.

“Yep,” he gushes, “and you're a freshman!”

I nod, then realize something. Wait a minute. How does he know that? Is it that obvious? And anyway, how did he know my name at the mall last time?

I narrow my gaze at him, “Are you stalking me?” I ask, completely serious, but he laughs in response.

“Pretty much,” he muses.

The ?! My eyes widen and I quickly begin walking forward, muttering “KayIgottagotoclassseeyoulaterbye,” or something along those lines, just trying to get the hell away from this freak.

I'm stopped, though, by a tug on my wrist and his voice saying, “Hey, hey, I was just kidding,” followed by another lilt chuckle.

I look back at him, and his eyes crinkle up in a smile. “I don't stalk you,” he laughs, “I've just, you know, well...” he sighs, lost on what to say, and I raise an eyebrow. “I don't know how to put it lightly,” he chews on his bottom lip for a second, his hand still around my wrist. His fingers are long and thin, and his grasp is gentle. This guy is actually pretty feminine, I think. “You know people say... things about you, right?” he asks, pulling me out of my daze. I nod, yes, I know the kids say about me. It's not very nice, either.

“Well,” he continues, and finally drops my wrist, shoving his hands in his pockets. I turn around fully now to face him, and I can't say I don't miss the warmth of his hand close to mine. “I, uh, didn't like what people were saying about you. It was... cruel, and if someone said that about me, it would hurt me just as much.” There's something genuine in his voice when he talks, a spark in his eyes that tells me he means no harm. But I roll my eyes anyway, and start on the speech I give everyone who says stuff like this.

“I don't need pity. You're not gay, so no one's going to say that about you, and you don't know how it would feel. I've heard it all before, but it won't help anything, so don't make yourself uncomfortable by bringing it up,” I snap bluntly, and his eyes widen.

“I... I wasn't trying –”

I sigh loudly, cutting him off. “I'm not mad or anything. Just save your breath, because I don't need anyone's sympathy,” I reason, squeezing the strap of my bag tightly in my hand.

He gives me a confused look, and starts again, “But it's not just sympathy, I –“

Once again I interrupt, saying “I don't need friendship, either, if that's what you think. I'm perfectly fine –“

“Look!” Jinyoung snaps loudly, and it's enough to make me startle and stare at his frustrated expression. “It's not sympathy, it's empathy! I'm gay, too, okay?! And I'm interested in you!” he blurts out, loud enough to make the rest of the hallway shut up and watch us.

“I.. uh... oh,” is all I can say, as I stare at him with owl eyes, my mind racing. Duh, I tell myself as everyone whispers around me. He tried to pick you up on Saturday. Are you stupid.

Jinyoung's head swivels around and he glares at everyone around us, making them slowly go back to their own conversations. Then he looks at me in my shocked state and sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters quietly, a strong contrast to his previous outburst. “I didn't mean to make everyone hear.”

I shrug. “It's fine, I should be apologizing. I knew you were gay, I just kinda forgot,” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck.

He gives me owl eyes of his own. “You knew?!” he asks, seemingly baffled, as if his pick-up yesterday wasn't ridiculously obvious.

I let out a laugh. “Let's be friends,” I declare through a smile.

He grins back at me, his whole entity lighting up at my suggestion. “Okay!” he chirps.

As if on cue, the bell sounds from the loudspeaker above us, signaling there's only two minutes until first period starts. Before I can even say goodbye, Jinyoung grabs my schoolbag and takes off with it down the hall, towards the History wing. I laugh as I watch his awkward form running through the crowd of students.

How he knew what class I had first, I really don't want to know.

All I do know, is that this strange guy could be the perfect distraction from Shinwoo.

[A/N]: Double update, as promised! I wanted to get this out before my internet shuts off at midnight, so it's a little rushed. There might be typos and such, but I'll edit it tomorrow. ^^

Because I'm short on time, I won't go into too much detail, but I do have an announcement. I'll (probably) soon be opening a graphic request shop. :D So look out for that in the near future. ^^

So anyway, thank you for all the lovely comments on last chapter. ^^ Your comments make me smile sooooo much. :D

Comment and subscribers are love, as always <3 (Oh and I love my silent readers too :D)

Annyeong! <3

P.S. Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Gongchan's POV? :D