Junhong wakes up with the same dream. It’s the same dream every day. It’s him when he was younger and a stranger – every time he asks for his name, he fades away. It shouldn’t even bother him that much, but it does. There’s something about that child in his dreams. There’s something about him, he’s just not sure what it was.

 

            “Junhong, you alright?”

 

            Jongup is standing by his locker. He barely spoke, and most of the times, he and Junhong’s conversations would consist nods and silent glances. Like always, Junhong gives him a small smile and a nod, still not saying anything. It’s awkward between them, yes, but sometimes the silence is comforting. Junhong finds it a good feeling to not always have to be forced to talk or socialize.

 

            “What do you usually do on weekends?” Jongup asks, following Junhong down the corridor. Today was a Friday, and that was every student’s favorite school day because that meant the end of the week.

 

            “I’m usually at home. Reading.” He replies. Jongup nods.

 

            “Have you ever gone skateboarding?” Junhong looks at him for a moment when he asks this question, but he’s looking away. “I mean---I’m not good at it. But it’s fun.”

 

            “I’ve never gone skateboarding.” is all Junhong says, awkwardly shifting.

 

            “Do you want to try?“

 

            There’s an unexplainable feeling of excitement bubbling within Junhong, making him pull a wide smile. “I-I’d love to---“

 

            “Hey! Moon Jongup! Get your underclassman over here!” Daehyun calls out from afar. This cuts off Jongup and Junhong sees him sigh deeply. “Hyung needs you to cut pieces of wood for him. It’s for the festival.”

 

            Jongup gives Junhong an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

 

            Junhong’s smile doesn’t falter, although. “Oh, it’s fine. A-Another time, then?” He then curses himself for sounding so desperate. But Jongup smiles back and says “sure”, so everything’s fine for Junhong.

 

            Jongup, with his shoulders sagging down, walks over to Daehyun. Daehyun asks him a series of questions that seem to get Jongup flustered; Junhong isn’t sure what they were because he can’t hear from afar.

 

            Daehyun grins cockily at Junhong. “Hi Junhong!” He yells. Junhong brings a hand up to wave at him in response. However, Jongup, as red as a tomato, grumpily pushes Daehyun away before he could cause any more embarrassment.

 

            Daehyun sure was weird. But so were all of his hyungs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

Case#2 – Jung Daehyun

 

 

 

            He brushes past a flurry of people, eyes peeled. Seoul is especially crowded; people stepping so fast everything almost seems like a blur. Something glints from the corner from his eye --- he turns his head for a split-second and he sees it: 10-karat diamond necklace, the strap is steel coated with white gold – it would cost W11,000,000. He swiftly turns and begins to walk the other way, bumping into his victim. He’s smiling sheepishly when he apologizes to her, she coyly smiles back. When he walks away, the necklace is in his hand.

 

 

 

 

 

           My name is Jung Daehyun. I like food, like a lot. Cheescake, mostly. I hate going to school. I hate math especially.

 

            I experimentally rub my cheek, and hiss at the pain. Earlier today, I’d gotten into a pretty violent fist-fight with some guy whom I stole a phone from in school. No big deal, though. It’s not anything I haven’t experienced.

 

            As I walk down the street, I see all these big houses – some of which bordering being mansions. The windows are tall, with curtains of silk, and a huge veranda up front. I could imagine how big I’d feel up there. But that’s not where I live. I stop by a small house; wallpapers torn, a slit for a window, tattered roof, and a door smaller than me. Yes, this is what I call home.

 

            Poverty’s a stupid thing. But what’s stupider isn’t that the world had to take my parents away to leave me – it’s that the world left an angel like Sooyeon to strive to just survive life itself. I try to make it work. I try to somehow mix the roles of an older brother and a parent to her, just because she’s never had one. Come to think of it, I’ve never had one. But Sooyeon means the world to me, so I could care less.

           

            “I’m home.” I call from the ragged front porch. I pull my hood over my head; wouldn’t want her to see my bruise, now would I?

 

            “Coming!” The sounds of the door being unlocked are heard, before the door is pushed open by a little girl who was a little less than half my height. “Missed you.” She says, smiling as she raised her hands up. That was a gesture for ‘carry me big bro!’, and I do carry her all the way indoors.

 

            I knit my eyebrows. She’s gotten considerably lighter, and I could feel my heart drop. I haven’t been feeding her well. I should consider trying to get a job again, even though my last try wasn’t so great.

 

            “Did you eat at school today?” I ask out of worry. She shakes her head.

 

            “Maybe I should get you something to eat then.” She shakes her head again, and then she yawns. “I’m sleepy. Tuck me in.”

 

            With a sigh, I lead her to a bunch of blankets on the floor (our supposed bed), and I tuck her in under a quilt I was able to sew together from scrap clothing. “Love you.” She whispers, before I turn the lamp off.  I smile subconsciously as her eyes shut closed. “I love you too.” I say, even though she was fast asleep.

 

            I settle on the worn-out couch and sigh for the nth time that day. Life’s hard. I hate how they never told us or warned us that living would be hell before we were born. I felt overwhelming guilt within me – Sooyeon was suffering because of me. She’s all I have. And I’m all she has.

 

            Yet, we don’t have enough buttons and pennies in our pockets to do anything about it. And that’s why, ladies and gentlemen, I steal for a living.

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

            School makes my head hurt. It always has. That’s partly why the moment the bell rings, I’m fast to exit through the door. The moment the spring breeze hits my face and I feel Youngjae’s warm presence beside me, I feel freedom.

 

            “ school!” I scream, without a care.

 

            “Jesus, the teachers are within a hearing range. Keep quiet, will you.” Youngjae nudges my side warningly.

 

            I chuckle. “School ing !”

 

            “Or maybe you just at school.” He rolls his eyes. “When are you going to decide to pick up a book once in a while?”

 

            “Hm, let me get back on you on that.” I pretend to think seriously. “Maybe never.”

 

            “You’re hopeless.”

 

 

            Youngjae and I spend the whole time chatting animatedly. We talk about anything under the sun -- about school, teachers, video games, friends at detention and Junhong. I don’t know about everyone else, but I’ve taken a liking to him, despite him being unable to keep more than a 3-sentence conversation. 

 

            Youngjae decides to walk me home first, since I lived nearby. As much as it would’ve put me to shame to show my horrible house like that to other people, Youngjae was different. I don’t care. He wouldn’t judge me.

 

            I knock on the door twice.  “Sooyeon, I’m home.”

 

            No reply.

 

            “Youngjae’s with me.”

 

            There are patters of footsteps and shifting of keys and then an over-excited Sooyeon jumps up to hug Youngjae’s legs. “Hi!” She squeals. This puts a huge grin on Youngjae’s face. It has been quite a while since Youngjae came to visit.

 

            When she finally lets go, Youngjae crouches down to her level. “Hello there. You’re just as pretty as the last time I saw you.” He says. Sooyeon blushes and hides her face from Youngjae.

 

            “Why are you never this excited when I come home?” I joke. “If I hadn’t known better, I’d think you’re crushing on Youngjae.”

 

            The little girl shakes her head furiously. “No! He’s just cute!” She denies. “Don’t you have a crush on him, brother?” She, then, speeds away indoors and there’s a faint pink dusted on Youngjae’s cheeks.

 

            “Whatever you say, Sooyeon! Youngjae loves me more than you, just wait and see.” I yell in reply. “Come on.” I usher a flustered Youngjae indoors, and seat him on a couch, next to Sooyeon.

 

            “Do you want anything?” I ask. “Actually no, scratch that. All we have is 2 days old leftover orange juice, take it or leave it.”

 

            Youngjae laughs. “It’s fine. I’m not thirsty.”

 

            “Thank god.” I mutter in reply, and he hears that, making him laugh again.

 

            He stays there with us until nighttime came, even helping me feed Sooyeon, do the laundry, clean the house and tuck her in. I was always meaning to question why he always helped me when he came over. But I never did; I just always thanked him.

 

            Youngjae is led to the door by me, and he stops by the porch. “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.” I tell him.

 

            “Goodnight.” He replies. “Not going to school tomorrow though.”

 

            “Oh. Yeah, okay. I get it.” I answer, no matter how much I felt like I should put an end to how Youngjae was living his life. I’m in no position to tell him how to live his life, seeing as I can’t even live mine. “I guess, just… Be safe.” I shut the door closed before he would have said anything, striding to my so-called ‘bedroom’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Junhong is early to detention like he always is. Today’s also the day Youngjae skips classes for his business. No one else was there, so I pull a chair next to him. “Yo,”

 

            “Hi.” Junhong replies meekly.

 

            “How’s your burning-things-obsession going?” I ask.

 

            I see him shift uncomfortably at the question. “I---I actually stopped.” Oh.

 

            “How---why?” How do you get over your own darkness like that? is what I would have asked.

 

            Junhong seems to search his head for a moment. “I think… because of Himchan? I think. I think it’s because of you guys…” He trails off.

 

            “Ah. Is that so?” I my chin in thought. And maybe Junhong’s right. I should stop basing things from myself – what if I let everyone else be inspiration to work? Yongguk, Himchan, Jongup, Junhong, Sooyeon --- Youngjae. I might just be the world’s laziest person ever, but it’s high time I actually began trying to live life like it was supposed to be lived.

 

 

 

            “Say, Junhong… How’d you like to help hyung find a job?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            “You? Jung Daehyun? First name Lazy- last name Procrastinator? Getting a job? Please.” Himchan scoffs. My heart seemed to deflate; I mean come on, how much does he distrust me?

 

            “Didn’t you get fired the last time?” Jongup asks.

 

            “Don’t you guys believe in new beginnings!?” When I say this, everyone just silently looks at me and I felt absolutely defeated. Right now, we were loitering by the alley near school; but the gang wasn’t all that complete. I knew where Youngjae was, but I didn’t know where Yongguk was. “Hey, Himchan, where’s Yongguk?”

 

            Himchan furrows his eyebrows, and folds his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” He answers quickly.

 

            “Did you fight?”  Jongup stares at Himchan innocently, waiting for his reply. Without a will to be hard on his dongsaengs, he sighs and mutters a silent ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Thankfully, the rest were smart enough not to press the matter further.

 

            “We’re talking about me!” I remind them. “So, you’re not gonna help me?”

 

            “Of course we’re gonna help you, . Just because we think you’re a sloth doesn’t mean we don’t care.” Himchan says with a sweet smile on his face. I don’t even know why I felt comforted when he just insulted me twice in a sentence – but I did. I’ve always felt alone, but never when I’m with these guys.

 

            “So we’re doing this?” I couldn’t even contain the smile forming on my face.

 

            “Hell yeah!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Thanks to the dumb idiots I fondly call my ‘friends’, I have landed a job at the nearest McDonald’s. It’s like a 5 minute walk from home or something; I don’t know – who actually counts? I’ve been working there for some months now, doing everything I can to not get fired or arrested. (Yes that's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have stopped stealing.)

 

            Sooyeon and I have been living a better life. It’s still hard, but not as hard as how burly men punch me in the face when I steal a couple of bucks from them. Life couldn’t be more bright for me right now, right?

 

            Wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

            I just cared. I was just worried. How could I not have cared? Youngjae was my dearest friend and---I don’t know---maybe, just maybe I loved him. The path to love has never been smooth – exactly why I have been avoiding it.

 

            “Come on, Youngjae. Is this more important than us? Ever think of Yongguk? Himchan?” I ask him, my voice bordering on a yell.

 

            “Jongup? Junhong?”

 

            I could see Youngjae clench his knuckles until they turned white, so I tone myself down.

 

 

 

 

 

            “…Me?”

 

 

 

 

 

            “You don’t understand, Daehyun.” He was looking away, prepared to leave. But I stop him with my hand.

 

            “Understand what?”

 

            He pulls his hand away from me.  “You don’t understand because unlike you, my parents are alive! I just have to find them. You don’t understand anything. I thought you did because you were my best friend, but I was wrong. You’re permanently an orphan, Daehyun.”

 

            He leaves me standing there in shock. I don’t move an inch until I hear him exit the room. I felt more than pathetic at that moment. But it wasn’t my fault. I’m sure. It wasn’t a fault to care for him.

 

            As I stood motionlessly, Junhong for some reason runs back to the room. He spots me and awkwardly pauses. “Hi.” He says. “I forgot my pen.” He bends over to pick the pen like he said so, but I keep quiet and brush past him. I didn’t feel like going to the karaoke after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

            “Hey, Daehyun oppa, are you in a bad mood?”

 

            I peer down at Sooyeon, equally as confused as she was. “No. I mean---no, I don’t think so.” We were crossing down the street to our house; I had just picked her up from school. For caution, I always made sure to hold her hand, and I always note how tiny her hands were compared to mine. “Do I look like I’m in a bad mood?”

 

            “Yeah, you do.” Sooyeon was genius kid. Wish I’d gotten her intelligence.

 

 

 

 

            When we arrive home, I assist the little girl in changing and feed her a full meal (which yes, we can now afford). I tell her to go to sleep, but she reasons that she wasn’t tired, so I let her lie down on my lap as I sing to her. She usually falls asleep within the first verse of the song anyway, and then I carry her to our room.

 

            I was changing into my sleeping shirt when my phone rang. Before I could open it, it rings again. Once my shirt is on, I reach for it, my lips curling into a smile as I read the texts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            I was more than shocked --- near tears, really, when I found a familiar ring in my locker. I couldn’t believe my eyes; and being my natural Daehyun self, I would go off and annoy Youngjae about it. Which I did do.

 

            I found him sitting alone in the classroom, but not for long because I sit next to him. He barely even notices my presence as he’s busy highlighting important details on his book. “I would forgive you.” I begin.

 

            He jumps in surprise when he sees me next to him, and then turns awfully red upon realizing how close our faces were. He pushes his chair to the side and away from me. “I gave you a damn expensive ring, what else do you want?”

 

            “I would forgive you but you forgot something in the text.” I say, my grin only growing wider.

 

            He groans. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

 

            I hold his face in place with either of my hands and press a quick kiss on his lips. “You forgot to say I love you.”

 

            He speechlessly gapes at me, still blushing madly. It’s cute. Very cute. I could relish in his cuteness forever, but we were late for the last and most special part of the day, detention. I pull him along with me, and he’s still fuming and rambling about how mad he is at me – but he doesn’t mean that, I’m sure.

 

            Why? Because I could feel his heartbeat when I held his hand – and it was faster than mine. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-----

A/N: here's daehyun's part

it's not angsty like i said it wouldn't be because i can't write angst for the story is about recovery ;u;

um

umMMMmmMmmMm

yeah thats it i guess 

next is probably himchan's yay o/

((oh and ot6 means the story focuses on ot6 friendship ;v; they don't all fall in love with each other [that would be gr8 though]))