세나: “Ow!” I yelp, having just hit my forehead on the table. I lay a hand on the injured part and it’s throbbing rapidly; I must have hurt it that bad. “Ugh, where is it?” I grouch, kicking the chair in frustration. I search through the bookshelf, open and reopen my bag, the drawer, and even search in the cupboard, thinking that I must have misplaced it there. But no. It’s not anywhere in my house.

Sighing, I give up, and let myself fall on my bed. My hand is still on my forehead. “Damn, I still haven’t finished reading that book,” I mutter, looking at the bright light on my ceiling. Heaving a sigh I get distracted from my search, and my mind takes me to what had just taken place a while ago, while Hyunsik-oppa was walking me home.

Was it right to do that?

“Say, Se Na-ah, why’d you ask me to walk you home?” oppa smiled, his hands in his pockets.

“I just have something to say,”

“I don’t know but this makes me nervous all of a sudden,” he giggled.

“Ani, don’t be! It’s just that…I thought you’re the best person to confide this in…”

“Have you told Sungjae about this?”

I wished he hadn’t asked that at all. My words were suddenly stuck in my throat, and, momentarily becoming ashamed of myself, I bowed my head, my walking’s speed lowering.

“Hey,” he softly grabbed my arm. “You…haven’t…?”

Standing still, I remained quiet.

Oppa heaved a breath which sounded a bit worried. With a resolved, manful, final inhale, he asked, “Alright, what is it?”

 “You’re the group’s calming presence and all, so I thought maybe you could advise me on something…” I began.

“Depends on what that is,” he replied. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s your secret, oppa?” I realized I sounded a bit more miserable than I tried not to be. “Why you’re so calm, and cool, even when there’s pressure…”

He chuckled. “Se Na, I thought it was a matter of life and death,”

“It is.”

He was smiling, but when he saw my look the smile was wiped clean off his face. He reverted to his serious expression a while ago, and replied, “It’s…it’s not a secret, actually. Perhaps you could just say that it is a part of my nature to be calm. Is this about The Lunch Box? Are you stressed from work?”

 “It’s another problem,”

“What problem?”

For some reason, my next answer was delayed. I was torn between getting straight to the point and asking for advice without necessarily spilling all the beans. Telling him could change everything—positively or derogatively. The next time I inhaled, I realized that I’ve been shaking. My hands were cold. My breath was ragged, and for a moment there I had slight double-vision. I willed myself to calm down. “What do you do, when you have a secret?”

Oppa balked. “You keep it, of course.”

“But that secret is…let’s say, deadly?” and I added, in a small voice, “Literally.”

But just when I thought I was the only one that heard that—“If that’s the case then, that’s not a secret. That would be betrayal,” he said, and that was the moment when the Im Hyunsik I knew dissipated into thin air. The man that stood next to me felt like it was not him, at all—it was scary, in a way, because I never saw him this serious.

“I-I…well,” I gulped. I had to end before I even began.

Noticing my trouble, he glanced at me, “I’m sorry, did that hurt you in any way? Are you okay, Se Na?” he put a hand on my shoulder, shaking me oh so slightly, just to get me out of the trance  I was in.

I squeezed my eyes shut—I had to, in pathetic hopes of trying to get rid of the tears that hung strongly in the corner of my eyes. “Oppa,” I somehow caught his hand. “I have to tell you something,”

He sounded scared when he whispered, “What is it?”

I tried to construct carefully the sentence, trying to make a statement that would not hurt him, or maybe, not hurt me—because I think it is far more severe than I imagine. But the words came out just naturally, as if they have been there all along, just waiting for the right time to come out, to be told to the right person. “I haven’t told Sungjae about this, because I’m…afraid. I know; I’m a terrible friend for not telling him this, when I should have, a long time ago, but…I’m just protecting him. I once tried to, but before I even got there I sensed he was scared. And I didn’t want to bother him, having him worry about me, because I know him all too well. He’s pained when I’m in pain. Saying that it’s concern or worry would only be an understatement. Sungjae is—I love him too much to—” I didn’t realize that I was talking all too fast until I was held by the shoulders, and was shaken slightly.

“Se Na!” Hyunsik-oppa exclaimed.

I inhaled sharply.

“You’re…”

“I’m…what…?”

“…crying…”

I carefully put a hand on my cheek, and when I saw my fingertips, they were shiny with my tears. Trembling, I looked up at Hyunsik-oppa. “Oppa…” I sniffed.

“Se Na…”

“I’m…I’m sick…”

What he thought about that I don’t know, but he tried to make me regain my bearings. “Se Na…oh my goodness…Se Na…” now I was sobbing beyond my permission; I covered my face with my hands. “Se Na…don’t…shhh…” he tried, now gathering me in his arms.

“I was diagnosed, when I was young, that I have Werner’s Syndrome,” I hic. “They said my case is different because the symptoms don’t show externally but my organs…they’re...fragile. They said I wouldn’t live so long. Oppa…”

“Shh…it’s okay. Se Na, it’s okay…” he caressed my back, and for the first time, I saw someone else other than Minhyuk-oppa that can be an oppa among them. Im Hyunsik…he’s more caring than he looks.

I’m still shaking uncontrollably, and I whisper to him, me barely recognizing my voice, “I’m scared…”

***

I shut my eyes tight. Somehow, I feel ashamed of myself for breaking down in front of a person that barely knows me. Sure, in a way, I trust Hyunsik-oppa, but there’s something inside me that worries—thinking that perhaps I have bothered him; for dumping my problem on him in which he has no hand on at all. Covering both my eyes with a hand, I gulp.

But he did promise me one thing, though.

Darkness is what my eyes see but in my mind I picture out Hyunsik-oppa and the way he looked when he told me,

“There are two things I want you to know. First, just run to me when that problem strikes you. Second, I’ll never tell Sungjae or anyone else.”

Weirdly enough, the corners of my mouth curl up, as if involuntarily, and I remove my hand from my eyes. To be honest I’m still ambivalent over this matter, but Hyunsik-oppa knows already, and so far his advice of “trying not to think about it” is working.

Next to my head, my phone beeps, and I see that Sungjae has replied from my message a while ago.

It’s here.

And I’m relieved at that, that I stop searching for my book. I take a bath then, and it takes me quite long because I think about a lot of things inside the shower. When I get out, just in time, the person that I was thinking of messaged me, claiming that my book is with him, and I instructed him that he’ll just return it to me tomorrow.

I do a final proofread on the latest chapter of The Lunch Box before I go to sleep. I rephrase, reword, and revise a lot of things, having seen a lot of errata in my writing. Editing conjunctions, adverbs, marks, and everything else in between, I work nonstop until my eyes beg for rest. Resolving to call it a day, I get into bed, but I grunt when my phone rings.

It’s Jung Ilhoon who’s calling.

“Yeoboseyo.”

“Se Na!” he’s whispering, but he sounds frantic.

“Yes, Hoonie-oppa?”

“I have to tell you something!”

I look at the time, and yawn. “If it’s not that important can you just tell me tomorrow? Because I’m really sleepy, I just did some proofreading on The Lunch Box…”

“It’s exactly about that. Listen—the hyungs know it’s you!”

As if the words have some static force, they electrify me wide awake. “They what?”

 “Ugh. Well, they’re not a hundred percent sure but…it’s been going on for a while now, you know? You writing similarly to the author and A Tale of Two Cities as a reference…good thing I got the chance to call you,”

“And?”

“Tomorrow there’s a meeting, right?”

“Ahuh.”

“Well they’re planning something to see if it’s you. They’ll wait for pna502 to update with you being there. If she—I mean you—don’t update during the meeting then their suspicions will just be strengthened. And of course, I know, as I myself feel—that you don’t want this to be revealed.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Here. I have a plan. Tomorrow, before breakfast, come here. In the dorm. Save the file of the chapter in a flash drive or whatever. Then I’ll just tell them I need to go somewhere so I can email it to the writers.”

“So you mean…I’ll have to give you my password…”

“Exactly.”

“Wait. How sure are you that this plan will work?” not that I don’t trust Ilhoon-oppa, it’s just that not everything might go as planned tomorrow. Chance is sometimes a brat, you know.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Well, I do, but…” then I realize that he’s too quiet from the other end. “Ilhoon-oppa?”

“Ah…?”

I flatten my eyes. “Ilhoon-oppa.”

“Uh…”

“Ya.”

And I’m a little startled when he suddenly says, “Yes, it’s true. Se—er, yes.” Though he can’t see it, I make a baffled face. “Just trust me, okay?”

“Uh. Okay?”

There’s a brief pause, and then he says, “Sorry, I was a bit off,”

“Yeah. What was that?”

“Peniel-hyung came out of the room.”

It’s kind of annoying that at the mention of the name, my heart does a little backflip. “Ah. Okay.”

“But you did get my instructions, right? You really need it,”

“Well, yes, but…are you sure of this?”

“I wouldn’t propose to you this plan if I weren’t sure,” I could feel his smirk coming from the other end. And I trust him fully when he adds, “Besides, I promised you, remember? That I’ll keep your secret,” that’s where I pause, weighing a certain thought in mind. Minhyuk-oppa. Hyunsik-oppa. Ilhoon-oppa. I suddenly feel guilt for having only tunnel vision before. All I could see was Sungjae. I only saw Sungjae when in fact some other people cared for me too. “Se Na…?”

“Ah, ne, oppa. I got it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll prove to you I’m worthy of your trust,” I hear a sigh from him, which I think is borne of a smile.

“Ani, I trust you just well enough,”

“Glad of that,” he snickered in amusement. “Very well. I ought to sleep now. You should go to sleep too.”

“Ne.”

“Good night, Se Na,”

“Jaljayo, Hoonie-oppa,”

And the call ends.

I roll my head to the left, my thoughts now gathering about the event of tomorrow. I wonder how everything will turn out. I try to close my eyes, maybe to get some sleep, but my mind is too active to let me rest. I get my phone again, and scroll through my contacts. I swipe my thumb across the screen. “Asleep, asleep, asleep. They’re all asleep. I can’t disturb them,” I mutter, and suddenly my thumb hovers over a certain name on the list. Zelo.

I take a deep breath. I don’t consider us as the closest of friends, nor even in the basic form of comparison of the adjective. But he being in the same line as me, and we call each other by a unique nickname of some sort, I feel a bit connected to him.  I kill the idea; he should be resting by now, but there’s this nagging, sickening feeling at the pit of my stomach that’s begging to be brought out.

“Whatever,” I snort, and in a whim, I press the ‘call’ button.

It’s only when I’m waiting for him to pick up do I realize that I’ve just gone full thick. I’m about to end it but someone picks up.

“Yeoboseyo?”

“Comrade,”

“Ah…? Comrade…? Uh, yes, comrade?” it’s weird. Why does Zelo’s voice sound like this over the phone? It’s…deeper. Not to mention, huskier. I hear a light cackle from the other end. “Why’d you call, comrade?”

“It’s just,” I snort. “I feel weird.”

“Weird? Why?”

I don’t know how to verbalize this but I try to make a coherent statement out of what I feel. “I just really need someone to talk to…I feel stupid and lonely right now. Something’s up actually and it’s not…cool. You’re not busy, I hope? Because if you are I’ll drop this call right away—”

“—ah, aniyo! No biggie  at all. Your voice is really pleasant over the phone, by the way,” aside from the fact that it’s greasy, the remark is creepy. Is Zelo really like this?

“Uh, thanks?”

Suddenly a ramble erupts over the line. “Eh, Himchanie-hyuuuung! What are you doing with my phone?!” protests a voice, and I’m chilled when I realize…that it’s Zelo. “Who’s calling?”

“What? You were busy in the practice rooms and you told me to look over it for a while,” the guy who’s holding Zelo’s phone—the one I’ve been talking to—snaps back. “You were nowhere to be found so I answered it!”

“Oh, crap,” I mumble, slapping my palm on my face. This is embarrassing.

“So Se Na’s her name, huh? Your girlfriend?” Zelo’s hyung chortles. Then he tunes his attention back to me, “Haloo, Se Na-ssi! I hope to meet you personally soon!”

The level of embarrassment inside me is so much I don’t get to answer.

“Gimme that!” Zelo hisses, and there are scratching sounds over the phone. I could still hear his hyung’s laughter. “Himchanie-hyung is mean!”

“But you still love me!” the guy named Himchan replies. “By the way, say hi to your girlfriend for me!”

“She’s NOT my girlfriend!” I start to think that maybe their bantering is going to last forever but then Zelo speaks to me. “Ah, Se Na…sorry about that. That was Himchan-hyung,”

I sigh. “I should’ve known by the sound of the voice,”

“You spoke to him?”

“Oh, I didn’t just speak, alright. I confided in him thinking it was you!”

“Sorry! I really didn’t know there was a call!” then he yells over at someone nearby. “Himchan-hyung! You owe Se Na an apology!”

“It was really embarrassing, but you know it’s okay—”

“—eeeh Se Na-ssi! I’m sorry for fooling you!” the deeper, huskier voice of the “Himchan-hyung” is suddenly on the phone once again. “So I can prove you how sorry I am, please do come to our next music show performance. I’ll give my peace offering!”

“Uh…okay.”

“Great! I really look forward to seeing our maknae’s girlfriend!”

“Um. I’m not his girlfriend.”

But I presume he has not heard my reply that Zelo is back on line. “He keeps on telling me that, Se Na. all of them in fact,”

“They really keep on teasing you, huh.”

“Yep.”

“They must love you so much.”

“Please. Love would only be an understatement. I am also a victim of cheek-pinching harassment,”

I laugh.

“Soooo, what’s up? Why’d you call, comrade?”

“Ah? Eh…I just need someone to talk to.”

“You have a problem?”

I’m surprised at myself when I answer, “Yes.” Normally I’d admit it to one person and one person only.

“Spill.”

“Um…maybe when we’re talking face to face,”

“Oooh, by the sound of it, it must be heavy then. But, hey, comrade,”

“Hm?”

“This will sound a little cliché and mushy but…really, if it’s alright with you, I’m always open to be confided in. I don’t seem like it but you can trust me,”

With that statement I feel all warm inside all over again. It feels like my trust is being stretched; pulled by so many different persons around me. And the catch is? I like the feeling. Looking back to the days when I would just “Sungjae this, Sungjae that”—it feels like it’s been a long vista of years. “Thank you, comrade,”

“You’re very welcome, comrade,” he chuckles, and it’s not because anything is funny but, just like how I feel right now, there’s humility in that laughter. “Hey, aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I was going to, a while ago but I figured I wanted to talk to you so…yeah,”

“Well you should really go to sleep. I’m not getting rid of you, okay, but—sleep that problem away. That won’t do anything but it can take your mind off of things for a little while,”

I have to admit, that was a really smart solution. “Wow, that’s a really good point you have there,”

“See? I’m way cooler than I already am,” he laughs. “Just kidding. Oh, I still need to do some recording now, so…I gotta go. So go to sleep, ne? It will be okay. Whatever you’re going through. If it’s not yet okay then it will all be.”

“Got it,” I smile. “Gomapta,”

“Good night, comrade,”

“Ne; good night, Zelo,”

I haven’t told him what it is, but those words alone give a great deal of comfort to me, almost as if it makes me completely believe that everything will be alright. That the day I will face Sungjae to tell this isn’t as dire as I imagine it to be. He will be sad, but he won’t be angry at me for having kept this for a very long time. He has no choice but to accept it—just like what I did, and still continue to do.

Because maybe, even if lying is the worst thing I could ever do to him, he’ll understand.

Maybe he will forgive me.

The next day, the plan is at hand. Even as early as before sunrise I’m already up in bed. For some reason—I don’t really know what gets into me—but I don on my thick sweaters and start walking around Gangnam, for an early morning exercise. By the time I get back home the sun is already shining in the sky, and, before I close the door of my apartment I do a silent prayer that everything Ilhoon-oppa and I planned will go well today, else my life would be flipped.

“Oh! Sweetie!” I behold the pleasantly-surprised look on Minhyuk-oppa’s face when he opens the door.

“Good morning oppa! I’m here to have breakfast with you!” I grin, and, briefly embracing him, I step into their dorm.

“Whoa. Good morning, Se Na!” the others greet.

“Good morning!” I happily say to them. “Where’s Sungjae?”

“He’s still in the room. Can you wake him up, please? I think he’s still struggling out of bed,” Changsub-oppa answers.

“With pleasure,” I wink. I march to their shared room then, and I see that the upper bunk of the double-deck in the middle is where a long-legged birdbrain resides. I climb the peak. “Yaaaa, Yook Sungjae, wakey-wakey; eggs and kimchi!” I clap once.

“Umff,” mutters from under the pillow covering his head.

Less-than-violently shaking him, I coax more, “Breakfast is ready! Get up!”

He doesn’t budge. I scowl at his figure. My, my. I hope this heavy-sleeping habit of his isn’t a burden to his hyungs. I’m quite surprised when he suddenly moves, after a moment, removing the pillow from his face. “Se Na?” he mutters like a drunken man.

“Yes, good morning to you too,” I flatten my eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Questions later! Up, up! Get up!” I pull his arms and despite of his weight, I manage to make him rise. “Get uppppp!”

“Alright, alright,” he yawns. He gets down out of bed and together, we walk to the dining area.

“Yook, your hair looks like a bird’s nest,” I giggle, ruffling his head.

“Shut up; your hair looks like noodles.”

We make faces at each other until Minhyuk-oppa tells us, “Why don’t you two knock it off and let’s have breakfast?”

After the meal, while no one is looking, I hand Ilhoon-oppa the USB where the file is. “Take care, oppa,” I say.

“I will,” he grins. “Trust me.”

That morning, I sense that what Ilhoon-oppa said last night were all indeed true as the others keep on darting me weird looks and for several times I catch them looking at me. I choose to ignore this because if they have something in mind, they’re not alone.

During the meeting, the only thing that’s lacking is that they freak out of excitement because they’re practically taking it to new heights—LCD projector, and opening the inbox where pna502—that is me—sends her chapters, displaying it onscreen, for everyone to see. I want to laugh at their folly, but how hysterical I am inside is how pokerfaced I am outside. All I do is just use my book as a shield; reading while waiting for Ilhoon-oppa to arrive. While I could feel the boys boring holes into my skin with each passing moment I maintain a nonchalant façade; playing charades that I know nothing at all. Not to brag, but…

I’m an actress, remember?

Every time I bat my eyes at them, facially trying to ask what’s going on, I could see their certainty faltering. Finally, the door opens and there is Ilhoon-oppa, simultaneously arriving with the email. Here Sungjae glances his head at me with his mouth agape, trying to read something on my face.

“What?” I my brow at him, smiling a bit, as the others start to laugh.

“Nothing,” he smirks, and looks at his hyungs who are laughing at their own foolishness.

“What? What did I miss?” says Ilhoon-oppa, effectively blinking his eyes. I could say, he might pass for a great actor.

“Something really important, hyung. But, glad that you’re here,” my best friend answers, and when mine and Ilhoon-oppa’s eyes meet, he winks at me.

After the meeting, I find time—miraculously—to thank Ilhoon-oppa alone. “Where’d you get that message attached to the file? You could’ve just sent it right away,” I laugh.

“Nothing; I just put it there for effect. Were you scared during the meeting?”

“A little,” I shrug. “But I knew my hope was in you,”

“If I failed, would you be mad at me?”

I think about it. “Um, I dunno. I don’t want to think about it,” grinning, I step closer to him and circumscribe him in a hug. “Hoonie-oppa. Thank you. I’m eternally grateful,”

As far as I know he doesn’t like skinship, but hugs me back. “Just keeping a promise here,”

Before the day completely ends, one more gift is presented to me. What thunder had struck him I don’t know, but Penpen volunteers to take me home. In fairness to us, we talk easily, just like old times. He doesn’t really tell me why he was “not in the mood” for the past few days but I know it’s about my friend named Zelo, and I vehemently rub in Penpen’s face that he ought not to be jealous or anywhere near the word. Because “I’ll always like you better”. Now as to that statement I would actually, gladly state that I’d always like him better, but I made it seem like I like them guys better, because, I don’t know; looking back, I could’ve confessed right then and there that I like him, but something was…holding me back?

I stare at my phone and peruse through my call history. The last thing it recorded was the call my phone received from Sungjae. That moment-wrecker of a brat. He’s going to pay for it.

But then Sungjae’s face flashes across my mind; his laughing, teasing face—his face that he would wear whenever he teases me that I like his Peniel-hyung; I find myself smiling, which swells immediately to a chuckle. It makes me warm and embarrassed inside and it tingles like something else—something I can’t quite put a finger on.  It feels weird, actually.

My phone beeps, which quite startles me, and I want to scream when I see it’s from the contact, Yook Wangjanim.

PyoPyo, you asleep? (｀・ω・´)

I don’t have an idea why the hell my heart is pounding so fast—probably it’s because I got startled. I quickly reply,

No. I’m freaking skydiving, YookYook.

I check the time. Normally this is the time in their dorms when they would sleep.

ㅋㅋㅋ babo. Go to sleep!

Look who’s talking. You yourself need some sleep too!

Ah it’s okay. Handsome men can’t be hurt

by lack of sleep.

That’s it. You finally lost it.

 Go to sleep, Yookgaetang.

Aigoo, now that you mentioned that, I’m hungry!

I suddenly want to have some beef soup~

Tomorrow. Eat some tomorrow.

Are you going to eat with me?

As long as it’s your treat, I will.

Hmm. Fine. By the way, PyoPyo.

That name is so weird.

What is it, YookYook?

What did you and Donggeun-hyung talk about today?

None of your business.

If you love me you will tell me!!!!! X1000

I don’t want to tell you!!!!! X1000

If you won’t tell me I’m gonna tell hyung you like him.

…

Gotcha. HAHAHA.

Ugh. There’s nothing to tell you about, really.

We just talked like…talked, you know?

Nothing special.

Give me some privacy -__-

Sigh ~ okay fine. Here’s your privacy.  (ﾉ´ｰ`)ﾉ

I’m just really in the mood to bug you right now.

You on drugs again?

Why?

Ani! Hahaha.

I just missed you, that’s all.

We see each other every day. Please.

You ought to be getting sick of my face, you know?

Oh but your face is very pretty I would never get tired of it!

Here my face turns warm that I find myself yelling at my phone, “What is wrong with you, Yook Sungjae?!”

Yook. If it hasn’t occurred to you, you sound really creepy right now.

Creepy AND greasy?

Exactly.

I know ^^

Then why are you doing this?

I told you, I just miss you! ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

You hitting on me or something?

Here I go to the bathroom for a break, leaving my phone on my bed. After having brushed my teeth and washed my face, I turn off all the other lights in my home and leave my lamp on. It takes me quite a while, but, when I get back to bed I see that he hasn’t replied yet. Strange, because he would reply almost instantly a while ago.

Oi, Yook. Still alive?

I wait for him to beep me back. A little later, he completely disregards my question a while ago and replies,

Ah, I need to go to sleep now, Se Na!

Jaljayo!

in what I think is in a rather evasive manner.

I type back a short, “Good night, Jae” before sinking into bed. I think about the events of today. Finally, the issue of me being pna502 is finally dead—locked away in the pages of history, having been settled. Although the truth wasn’t revealed, that is totally fine, because it is a secret after all.

But I’m wrong.

Horribly, terribly wrong.

Because the next day, something happens that I never saw coming; something that took place in a manner that I should have guarded myself up against.

Yook Sungjae, dear me, discovers that I’m pna502.