Just so we're clear, I am not stalking my brother. I am merely looking out for him the way a good older sister should. I have nothing but good intentions for him, and this is not at all for future blackmailing purposes. How could you even think that?! Why am I stalking him? Well, you know, it isn't really even stalking as it is being at the same place at the same time, after all, he is my baby brother and it shouldn't be surprising that we run in the same social circles. No, that's not the same thing. Besides, why really isn't the issue here, haven't I talked about it enough? Besides, I'm not really at a liberty to speak of it as it's not my story to tell, as I wasn't even physically there- fine! Fine.

There really is only one reason for you to stalk another person (aside from it being your hobby, but really that's beside the point), and simply put, that is because this other person is hiding something from you.

How do I know this? Well, duh.

…

It was a normal Saturday morning like no other, or at least it had started out that way. Of course, saying it was normal was already stretching it a bit far out considering it wasn't every night I pull an all-nighter at the lab. I had arrived home, exhausted and essentially brain-dead to my dear brother Kwangwoo in front of the stove cooking our breakfast as he always did. I was, how does one say it, rather undomesticated, and so all household responsibilities were inevitably turned over to him at the work-related absence of our parents. Not that he minded, or at least, not that he minded out loud which was saying a lot as he usually has something to say about everything. Anyway, as I was saying, he was in front of the stove humming something that sounded like an old Big Bang song as he tossed the kimchi in with the rice inside the pot. I toed off my sneakers, steadying myself with my hand against the wall, and pushed the shoes carelessly towards the side of the cubby holes that served as our shoe-rack.

I took a carefree step inside the house and into the kitchen and immediately stopped right after. Something was wrong. Towards the side of our multipurpose table, multipurpose meaning dining and study purposes, where our sizable library stood, was something I was not accustomed to seeing. Normally that area would be littered with various textbooks, notes, paperworks, and other various school supplies all over the floor, but this time it was different.

I could actually see the floor.

By this time, Kwangwoo had already sensed me coming in and he turned towards me, smiling. “Good morning ate.” (And by ate he means older sister not...the past tense of eat because not only would that have made absolutely no grammatical sense, or sense in general, I'm sure Kwangwoo would hunt you down and demonstrate how exactly it is to be eaten...metaphorically of course...I think.)

I wasn't sure if it was the greeting or the stupid yellow apron with little cartoon chicks that he was wearing that threw me off. Probably both. “I don't get it, did someone die?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Kwangwoo frowned appreciably seeing the utterly confused expression on my face. Can you blame me? It felt like an evil foreboding, like something big was going to happen and I was going to get caught in the middle and just...die. A sudden yet very, very painful death. Kwangwoo greeting anyone a good morning was an event that had to be broadcasted all through out the city- all through out the world even. Only two things could explain this: one, someone he wanted to die had died, and two, the world was about to end. There was actually a third option here. “Who are you and what have you done to my brother?” This was a justified question as our usual morning conversations consisted of the customary exchanges of I hate yous and did not last for more than three minutes max.

“What?” he asked, exasperated. “Can't I greet my dear ate a good morning? How was lab?”

That was another thing, Kwangwoo asking me about lab, about how my day- well, night, went. Have I somehow fallen into a rabbit hole and gone into an alternate reality where my brother was actually nice and thoughtful and greeted me a good morning? You see, this was not normal behavior for him. Park Kwangwoo was not nice- well, not to me, not in general. He was abrasive, belligerent, caustic, condescending, cynical, demeaning- in other words he was like me, give or take a few details. Him greeting me a good morning, actually looking like he was enjoying making breakfast, and cleaning up all pointed towards uncharacteristic behavior, and needless to say, prying minds wanted to know why.

As always, curiosity prevailed. “What's wrong with you?” I asked, dropping my bag on the floor and stepping up to him, reaching up on my tiptoes (damn you freakishly tall people) to touch his forehead, “You're not feverish, so that rules out fever-induced insanity...”

Granted I didn't have to stand on tiptoes as he really wasn't that much taller than I was, but I was trying to make a point, and well...I hated being shorter than he was so there.

“Ate,” he pouted, which really scared me more. “It's nothing.”

Piece of advice, whenever someone says it's nothing, he/she/it/they is/are lying through their teeth. It's never nothing. Never.

“Tell me.” I said flatly.

“I already told you, it's nothing.” he answered, an amused lilt evident in his voice.

Ugh. I hate my brother. “Just tell me so we can get this over with.”

“No.”

“Just tell me!”

“There's nothing to tell.”

“Yah! Park Kwangwoo!” Normally the dangerous note in my voice would be enough to send a person on his or her knees spilling their guts out and begging for forgiveness, but this was my brother we were talking about. And as with all sibling relationships, Kwangwoo had bolted for his room, with me following after him.

I banged my fist as hard and as violently as I could on his door, “Yah! I will find out!” I threatened.

Silence.

“Kwang, I hate you.” and I said this in the most affectionate way possible.

But yes, in case you were curious, I did find out.

…

How did I find out you may ask? Well, it's easy really. You see, despite Kwangwoo being as sarcastic as he was, he had managed to find himself some friends that had managed to tolerate his...difficult personality. Not that he wasn't nice when he actually managed to put an effort to it, fine, Kwangwoo could be very nice if you manage to earn his letting his guard down around you, but don't tell him I told you that. In fact, it would be nice if you keep all this between us, Kwangwoo would definitely find a way to use this against me. He always does. It's almost like he keeps vigil, waiting for me to slip up or say something nice about him just so he can document the hell out of it for future blackmailing references. I kid you not.

Somewhere during my lunching period, yes, because lunch is a verb, I had come across the inevitable duo that was Ok Taecyeon and Jay Park, my designated best friends. While Jay was no longer a member of 2PM, he was still welcome inside the JYP building, though much discreetness was advised. What was I doing in the JYP building? Well, I was on a reconnaissance mission, and the first order of business was to gather my scouts. Oh, you meant how I got in? It's easy really, and it came in two words: Ian Choe, the other side of my little circle of friends. Don't tell Kwang, the Math Nerd, I said that. He'll only go on a long-winded lecture on how circles have no sides and thus my choice of words would be incorrect and he'd demand me to change it. To this I would use my “semantics” argument which only leads to another round of I hate you's. Ugh. I hate my brother and his mathness.

Math being that one other major difference between us besides our genders. He was Math, though he'd forcefully insist that he was Chemistry, and I was Biology. Not that it matters now, but I'd take any opportunity I get to stress the differences between us as much as I possibly can.

Back to lunch, my excuse was I was on my way to Ian's studio when I came across these two goofballs who somehow became my friends. Short history here, I still have NO idea how and why we're friends, just that one day I found myself hanging out in Ian's studio, and tada~ here comes the two people, whom my brother affectionately, and very creatively, calls the Americans. I know right, my brother is such a genius. Anyway my relationship with Taec and Jay can be considered a commensalism bordering on parasitism. They benefit, and I, more often than not am either harmed or forgotten altogether.

“Ooh! Alex! Lunch!”

And that's about all the eloquence you can get from two grown men whose stomachs control all voluntary and involuntary commands of their brain. By the way, if you're wondering why Kwangwoo has a Korean name and I wasn't referred to with mine, its because we're half-Filipino from my mother and so she decided on naming me with a western name while my father named Kwangwoo. Father Bear likes calling me by my Korean name, Hayeon, though. So yes, eventually I found myself at this exclusive little shop somewhere in between JYPE and SME. And yes, that's pretty far from both offices considering many things but that's not really the issue right now.

“So I'm going out on a limb here and asking you two anyway.” I asked them as soon as we were properly seated on one of the corner booths. Jay and Taec look at each other curiously before turning towards me with the same confused expression on their faces. “Do any of you have any idea what's going on with Kwangwoo?”

Not that I expected them to know anything considering how annoying my brother found these two, but it was worth a shot. They were honestly the only two people I'd be willing to ask anyway.

“What about him?” Taec asked.

“Well, he's been acting weird, what else?”

“Weird as in how?”

“Weird as in nice.”

Jay shot Taec a hesitant glance before turning to me, “Well...” he started, nervously, might I add with the way his eyes were squinted. That was the cue that there was, in fact, something wrong with my brother. It irked me that these two blockheads, and I say that as affectionately as I could, knew about it and I did not. How was is that Taec and Jay, the two people my brother was unwilling to tolerate the most, knew of this matter and I did not? I was very offended.

It was Taec, however, who continued Jay's statement. And with a much more firmer tone to his voice, Taec gave me a quick run-down on what he had heard from Wooyoung and Chansung.

It was...enlightening, to say the very least.

…

I had the chance to make use of my newfound knowledge right after dinner that same night. Taec and Jay's invaluable input had put me at an all-time high that I actually skipped through the small corridor that separated my room from his. I felt elated having this one edge over him. The one thing that I was sure would take him down and declare me victorious for all eternity. Not that I lost to him on a regular basis, because, really, we all know that Kwangwoo is incapable of winning against me. Without knocking, I twisted the handle to his bedroom door and leaned on the doorframe while I waited for him to acknowledge my presence.

Kwangwoo, I assumed, was immersed in another one of those Chemistry books I'm sure he read for entertainment. Impatient, I strode over to him and peered over his shoulder, reading the notes he was writing on a loose sheet of- shock horror- pink paper. Scented too, if my olfactory receptors were receiving and processing this data correctly. My ever-so-dearest brother was not writing down notes by the looks of it. He was writing poetry.

Poetry.

And deeply engrossed in it as well as he still hadn't sensed me over his shoulder. “You're orbs, there are two spaced apart at a perfect ratio, speaketh of volumes like windows to the soul. You have taken over my heart like a hurricane, without you I think I'm going insane?”

I snorted out that last line, so much so that the pain of squeezing out air through your nose still shot like fire through my nasal passages Can you blame me? It was downright awful. As soon as I finished that verse, Kwangwoo crumpled the paper in his hands and literally jumped out of his chair raising an accusing finger at me. “What are you doing here!” he spat out, eyes wide with a mixture of vexation and embarrassment.

He looked like the proverbial dear in the headlights, eyes, dare I say orbs, flashing with the indignation of being caught writing poetry, horrible poetry might I add, red-handed. His face and ears were flushed scarlet and he was trembling with anger as he spluttered out the next few words much to my amusement. “Get. Out. Of. My Room!”

Oh please, you can't really expect me to give up after just that, can you? I did the next logical thing, of course, and that was to plop down on his bed and make myself comfortable. I pulled my feet under me and studied the very fascinating ridge patterns on his baby blue walls. “Orbs” I smirked, not even bothering to hide my amusement. “Orbs? Seriously, Woo? Orbs? Who uses orbs?”

Kwangwoo grit his teeth at my use of his not-so-liked nickname. Woo was not something he enjoyed being referred to, and need I even continue that thought process? He was three seconds short of exploding, literally, and I took this as my opportunity to pile on the ammunition. “So, who's it for?”

I could tell my brother was trying his hardest not to strangle me to death just yet. I commended him for his self-control and non-violent nature, but pushing his buttons was just too fun to resist. According to Taec and Jay, Wooyoung had mentioned something about Kwangwoo asking about how to confess to girl, now which girl it was, neither of them had been able to figure out. A direct approach was best, and as always, curiosity prevails. “Who is it?” I asked again.

In retrospect, this was probably not the smartest thing to do as it gave my brother an advantage over me, but what's done was done. I waited for an answer as Kwang eyed me steadily, I knew he knew that I knew he knew he had an advantage, and that was a bad thing for me. Very bad.

Sensing the tables have turned, Kwang's expression shifted into something more sinister as he regarded me from where he stood. Dammit. The situations my curiosity has gotten myself into. I kept a straight face and held his gaze as unfaltering as I could. “Is it Sungjin? Eunbyul?”

Jung Sungjin and Ahn Eunbyul, Kwangwoo's two other best friends, the only two other people who had enough patience and enough neurons to keep up with my volatile brother. I never thought any romantic interest would ever spark between them, but this was my brother we're talking about. It was by default that I can never imagine any romantic interest between him and anyone. That's just gross. Please.

By this time my curiosity was getting the better of me, and I sat up straight, determined to get this bit of information out of him. “Tell me.”

“I don't think so.”

I stuck out my lower lip and drew my eyes wide. “Please?” What else can I say? Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Ate, stop it you're scaring me.”

Kwangwoo tossed the crumpled piece of pink scented paper into the trash bin and resumed his seat on his study desk, “Don't you have something more important to do? Like, I don't know, plan world domination using cuttlefish or nanobots or something as equally riveting?”

“I'm glad you know me so well.”

He didn't reply, but I knew what he was thinking given the smug look on his face, that was two times this day that he had gained a point over me. I was losing my touch, which meant I needed to find new insults to throw at him since obviously he had already acclimated to what ammo I had with me at the moment. I settled more comfortably on his bed, scooting further back to lean against the wall. “I hate you.”

“More than the usual?”

“No, just the usual.”

Usually that was about it for our after dinner interaction, but I was still dying to know who this girl was. He was still my brother after all, and this would make perfect blackmail material should the need arise. Kwang went back to his reading, and I was certain he was intent on ignoring me, so once again, I did the next logical step. I hurled one of his panda plushies at his head. Seriously though, this boy had more plushies than your average girl. I didn't even own one, and he had...an entire zoo: pandas, mostly pandas, dolphins, seals, dogs, and other creatures under the Class mammalia.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your point of view, Kwang did not retaliate, instead, he ignored me even more and went on with his light reading as if I wasn't vaguely aware of him trying to hide his laughter. Again, I went with the next logical step after the first logical step: I aimed the rest of his plushies at his face and fired away.

“Ate, what are you doing?”

Suffice to say my aim was not the best so I settled for glaring at him, but that proved to be futile when said object of angry staring was not even looking at you. “Why won't you tell me who it is?”

“Because I don't want to.”

“Just tell me so I can leave you alone.”

“No.”

“Yah Park Kwangwoo!”

…

“So if you want to confess to a girl, one good way is through poetry, girls like poetry.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I'm sure! You have to make sure you put in all the stuff they like. Eyes should be a main point of interest. Talk about her eyes. Oh! Don't forget to mention she takes your breath away!”

“And you're sure this is going to work?”

“Dude, just trust me.”