Our recent move landed us in Seoul, something I despised. I missed Busan. I craved the beautiful views, the familiar faces, and my old school. Right in the middle of high school, we had to move. This was plain terrible. I actually liked our Busan apartment, and I felt strange in an actual house. It was our “home” as they called it. No one to live with, no breakfast to walk down to, and no public pool. And of course my mother wanted us to go share our homemade cheesecake with the next door neighbor.

So my mother and I walked up to the door, knocked, and waited. I knew they wouldn't like Busan people coming up on their doorstep offering cheesecake, and I knew I wouldn't like offering the holy food that was cheesecake to some Seoul family. Neither of us liked each other's accents. So why the hell did mother move us here?

The door opened and I gulped. It was a tall, muscular man with deep brown hair. “Well, hello.” He smiled at us. “Are you the new neighbors?”

“We are!” My mother grinned. “I'm Jung Sooji, and this is my son Daehyun.”

“Nice to meet you both. Come on inside.” He waved. We stepped through the threshold, and it was a freshly clean house. I saw a woman wiping down a table, a lot shorter and with long black hair. She looked up and waved. “I'm Moon Jongyun, and this is my wife, Yeonsung.”

My mother re-introduced us to the woman, and I just bowed and set the cheesecake on the table where she told me to. I was ready to leave, when she told us to wait and she would bring her sons down. I jumped when two tall ones like the man came charging down the stairs towards the cheesecake. One had spiked up black hair, the other had flat, calmed brown hair. “This is Jongri, and this is Jonghae.” The man introduced them. I saw a much calmer boy, younger than the two of them and a lot shorter, come down the stairs. He had brown hair that was styled out of his face. He was beautiful to say the least, muscular, yet slender, thin, chocolate eyes, form-fitting clothing revealing his figure, and full lips.

“This is the quiet one, Jongup.” The woman chuckled, motioning to him. “Don't tell them, but he's my favorite. He's the youngest, but he's really the most mature. He's shy and nervous around people he doesn't know, so please be patient with him.”

“Hey, kid.” One of the taller, muscular boys walked up to me. “Is your hair naturally this blondish gray?” He asked me, eating the cheesecake sloppily.

The other one joined him, “Why are your glasses frames so big?”

“Why is your complexion so bad?”

I just hung my head and took the bullying. Hell. It wasn't the first time.

“Do you have a bad accent like your mother?”

“Both of you hush it!” I jumped, seeing the youngest of the boys scream. He walked over to me and grabbed my arm gently. “Do you want to go hang out in my room?” He asked. “Away from them?”

I smiled, not being able to help the hero status he was getting in my mind. “Sure. I'm Daehyun.”

He smiled back and rubbed his neck nervously. “I hope we can be great friends, Daehyun-ssi.”

THE END.