Junhong had been encased in silence and solitude just some moments ago, but then he feels his empty table in the cafeteria fill up with yes that’s right, friends. Months ago, it would have been a miracle to catch Choi Junhong eating with friends. Now, it’s kind of normal.

 

                It’s a comical scene Junhong gets silently amused with. Across him Jongup, Himchan and Yongguk sat and beside him Youngjae and Daehyun. Daehyun uses his mighty fork to steal food from just about everyone, except Himchan because he claims Himchan’s diet food taste bland and is an insult to all good food in the world. Yongguk gets mad at Daehyun, and takes all self-control for him not to hit him right in his face. Youngjae is having loud conversation with Himchan, just so they can hear each other over Yongguk and Daehyun’s noise. All the while, Jongup is apologizing to Junhong. It was hard to believe them both were the youngest in the bunch. “Sorry for the hyungs’ behavior.”

 

                Junhong shrugs it off and smiles politely. “It’s fine.”

 

                “They sure are rowdy, huh?” Jongup jokes.

 

                “Yeah… but it’s not something I’m used to, so it’s nice.” He replies. “I mean, it’s comforting. I guess.”

 

                “Never had crowds before?” Jongup asks him. Junhong shakes his head. “Never even had friends.”

 

                “Oh?”

 

                “The closest I’ve had to a friend was a playmate when I was like, 3?”

 

                Jongup nods slowly, and then takes a bite from his sandwich. “Is that so…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Case # 4 – Kim Himchan

 

 

                He’s below another man, lungs burning as he turns breathless, nails dulling as he digs it on a stranger’s shoulders. A sheen of sweat glistens on his pale skin, and his brown hair clumps together, the tips wet with perspiration. They’re pressed close, and he feels so covered in marks and so impossibly filled inside by the other man. The next day he makes sure to leave before he wakes up. He makes sure that they don’t break his heart, he breaks theirs.

 

 

 

                My name is Kim Himchan. My hobbies include playing musical instruments, taking pictures of myself and watching soap operas on TV. I’m basically your normal high school senior. Except I’m not.

 

                I grimace at my crumpled dress shirt. It’s ruined, and it’s my favorite one too – not that I don’t have tons of those back at home in my closet. Although, I could have preferred that the guy I may or may not have slept with be less of a brute. What was his name again? God, I forgot.

 

                I try to stride over to the nearest mirror, dismissing the obvious pain in the lower region of my body. I stare at myself in the mirror, and it’s a sight I don’t think I actually like, but I have learned to get used to. Purple bruises decorate my once unblemished skin from the neck down.

 

                There might be a reason I’m like this. Why I have with not an inch of feelings involved. My stepfather used to more than once touch me inappropriately. I unwillingly lost my ity on the eve of my 10th birthday, if I can remember correctly. I think this is my way of convincing myself that it doesn’t bother me. This is why I turned addicted to .

 

                I slip on my dress shirt, buttoning it up to cover my shameful body. I buckle my belt, and without a single glance backwards, I leave this man’s room---whoever it was. I can’t keep track. I usually spend the night in their homes; call me a freeloader if you want to, because I am. I know I should probably consider living in with my successful stepsister, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that when I see her strangely light brown eyes, I remember his eyes, and I would eventually break down.

 

                My phone rings once. Then twice. Then thrice. I assume it’s Yongguk and if it wasn’t, I bring myself not to care – because after the is done, the communication should be cut off too. Except for Yongguk. He was always an exception.

 

                It’s around 5am when I encounter him, back against a stone wall, smoke escaping his lips. I casually walk towards him and stand next to him, hands in my jacket pocket. He wordlessly offers me a cigarette, and I accept. Then, there are two children, pretending to be much older – lives ruined by their own maturities.

 

                “Has it healed?” He asks me. He’s referring to a bruise on my cheek; some kid named Jiho from school kind of slapped me really hard one session in a classroom and Yongguk arrived just in time to knock him out.

 

                “Yeah.” I reply. “Thank you again, by the way.”

 

                He nods to acknowledge my thanks. Yongguk was never one for the mushy words anyway, but I sure was. We contrast that way.

 

                From the flurry of the busy street people, a man stops in front of me – a man all too familiar. His name is on the tip of my tongue – Jaehyung? Jaehyuk? Jaehyo? Yeah, Jaehyo. I think. “Hey,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a kiss. I respond to the kiss, but from the corner of my eye I could see Yongguk uncomfortably turning his head away. I had to push Jaehyo away. “Not now.” I whisper.

 

                “Why?” He questions, a pout on his face. “Is he your boyfriend?”

 

                I grin in Yongguk’s direction, making Yongguk pull a hood over his head to hide his flushed face. “Nah, nothing like that.” I tell him. “Now, shoo.” Jaehyo says a couple of things I don’t really take note of, then bids me goodbye. Jaehyo’s decent. He would make a good friend.

 

                And what I said about Yongguk isn’t exactly false. We weren’t together. Nope, we were just really close best friends and I would get my in danger following him around all the time – I didn’t care if I got killed by these gang people – I’ve always loved him. Staying by his side was more than a blessing to me.

 

                I check his face, and it’s still red. He almost trips over his own feet and then it hit me. “Yongguk, are you drunk? Is that why you called me?”

 

                He shakes his head violently. “’m not drunk!”

 

                I sigh. “Yeah. You are.” It’s never good when Yongguk’s drunk, and I don’t even have a paper bag he can barf in right now.

 

                We’re probably what you call friends with benefits. The first time we got drunk together, was the first time I slept with Yongguk. Yes, my friends, I slept with the person I’ve been madly in love with. But no, it wasn’t as emotionally-satisfying as I thought it would be.

 

               

 

 

                “This only , right?” He asked me in a panicked tone that night. And I nodded to reassure him. But even though I did, I couldn’t help but have feelings attached. At the same time I thought, I can’t. I can’t do this to Yongguk, my best friend. I can’t have with him like it’s nothing. But in a matter of months, I caved in and it became a thing between us – an only thing.

 

 

 

 

                He’s staring at me intently for a couple of minutes before asking, “What’s that on your neck?”

 

                “Um, a hickey?” I answer him, my reply sounding more like a question than a statement. He’s frowning, or my mind is deluding me to think that he’s frowning; like he’s displeased or something.

 

                “Where’d you get it?”

 

                “Isn’t it obvious…?”

 

                For a moment there, I swear I see a miniscule sigh escape his lips. I decide to ignore it though, as I sling his arm over my shoulder to help his inebriated self walk. It’s silent for some moments, before he opens his mouth to speak up again. From this closeness, I could smell alcohol on him.

 

                “Hey, Himchan.”

 

                “Yeah?”

 

                “Why’d you keep doin’ it with people?”

 

                I ponder for a moment. It won’t matter if I sound smart to him or not; he’s absolutely drunk. “It’s a human need.”

 

                He furrows his eyebrows. “Do ya do it ‘cause ya love them?”

 

                “God, you sound like Junhong right now.” I grumble. “And no, I don’t.”

 

 

                “Then why can’t you do it with just me?”

 

 

                What?

 

                I pause, obviously taken aback. “You’re drunk. Very drunk.”

 

 

 

 

                I take him safely home, setting him comfortably under his covers. It’s amazing because he falls asleep the moment he lays on the bed. I make sure to turn the heater on, just in case it gets too cold for him. I also place aspirin and a glass of water on his the table next to his bed.

 

                Silently leaning forward, I press a soft kiss on his forehead. It’s not like he’ll remember it the next day or anything. I glance behind me for a moment, smiling subconsciously. Then, I leave the apartment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

                I laugh at a joke Daehyun cracks, and then I sip from an apple juice carton provided by the school. School days have become significantly less dull for me ever since I started hanging out with these guys more often. From the corner of my eye, I see a group of jocks enter the hall. My blood runs cold. Jiho. I could still remember everything in my head; the cheek where he slapped me a couple of weeks ago stung at the sight of him. Yongguk’s hit at him was worse though, his black eye remained ever-so-visible. So much for being the quarterback, right?

 

                He and his gang stop by our table; our conversation dies. Before he opens his mouth to speak, I could already see Yongguk clenching his hands into hard fists.

 

                “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our school ?” He says quite loudly, grinning as his cronies laughed behind him. I look down at my lap, already feeling the whole school’s population’s eyes on me. His grin twists into a frown of disgust. “.”

 

                Yongguk stands up; topping his chair backwards as he harshly tugs Jiho by the collar. “Don’t you dare call him that.” He growls. “Or I’ll kick your puny again, got that?”

 

                “Yongguk,” I say; my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Let go.” I hold his free hand gently, just so he could calm down. He exhales deeply, and lets Jiho go.

 

                “Best you go now, buddy.” Youngjae tells Jiho. Daehyun, who was beside him, nods. “Don’t want to ruin your face anymore than it already is, now do we?”

 

                Afraid and stunned, Jiho and his gang retreat. I feel relief wash over me when I see them leave. I admire Yongguk; if that hasn’t been made clear already. He’s brave, and he stands for himself. Something I’m not. He’s not weak, and no matter how much gang work he’s participated in, his heart remains like gold.

 

                He’s completely fooled. He’s wrong. He’s wrong because I am, in fact, a .

 

                But he’s probably the only person in the world who doesn’t believe that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

               

                “Ms. Song is absent today.” Daehyun announces. Everyone sits idly, including Daehyun, as if we were still waiting for her anyway.

 

 

                “That means we should go right?” I ask after some moments of awkward silence.

 

                “There’s probably a substitute teacher.” Youngjae says to burst our bubbles, and everyone in the room simultaneously groans.

 

                “Whatever, Youngjae and I are leaving. Let’s go.” With that, Daehyun pulls a resisting Youngjae with him to trek back home. Jongup and Junhong stand up too, waving at us before walking out the door. Yongguk follows farther behind them.

 

                “Oh wait, where are you going?” I ask him.

 

                “Uh, like a meeting or something.” He means another gathering of his gang; to plan for something, I’m never really sure most of the times. No matter how many times I’ve been in their hideout, I still don’t get the point of it.          

 

                “I’ll come with.”

 

                “Are you sure?”

 

                “Come on, I’ve been there countless of times. No one give a . They think I’m a handsome and youthful-looking 25 year old accomplice of yours.” I tell him. He sighs in defeat. Which is also means I won, and I get to tag along despite the danger. Like I always do.

 

 

 

                If you ask me what I do there in the first place, then I have simple reply: absolutely nothing. I just watch them talk and argue and such – or more accurately, I watch Yongguk. Even if it’s just a small amount of time, I feel better thinking that hey, I’m spending these moments – the most secret moments of Yongguk – with him. It’s pathetic, sure, but that’s always how unrequited love worked.

 

 

 

                I don’t know how a normal routine such as accompanying him to the hideout turned into a session of some sort, but it does. I find myself under his sheets, on his bed, in his apartment. I find myself with his arms encircled around my waist, and inhaling his scent.

 

                This is definitely new for me. Whenever we do things like this, it usually ends up with him sleeping with him having back turned from me, and me doing the same. I’d wake up the next morning, and leave like it was nothing.

 

                “I’m gonna have a little rap concert soon.” He says. Yongguk tended to write lyrics as a way to calm himself down. Usually he does this between gang meetings. “You should come.”

 

                “Oh? When is it?”

 

                “Tomorrow. After classes.”

 

                I smile sincerely. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

 

                It’s perfect. Too perfect to be real, I think. Once he falls asleep, I slip out from the bed, get dressed and walk towards the door. Before I turned the knob open, I glance at his sleeping form, and it’s as if a bomb sets out in my heart and it really ing hurts.

 

                I’m so confused. It should be easy for me to be doing these things, right? Having without feelings? But why is it so hard with Yongguk? Why did I have to love him and him not me? Why does he have to be acting this way, tricking me into thinking like he does?

 

                He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t like you. Get a grip. I remind myself. In the rush to walk far away from his house, I think I feel a warm tear fall down my cheek. After that one tear, they keep coming and I couldn’t stop. Love , children. Here’s a lesson: never fall in love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                There’s obviously something wrong. Something wrong on my part, I was sure. But the next day, I was trying so much to just talk to him, but he ignored me. He basically gave me the cold shoulder the whole day, until our class was dismissed and I decided to confront him.

 

                “Guk, can we talk?” We were alone in the classroom, and he only gave me a hard glare. He pushes past me to the door, mumbling a ‘what is there to talk about?’. I block the door. I’m not letting him leave before we talk.

 

                “What did I do?” I ask.

 

                He squints his eyes at me, and then he scoffs. I’d never seriously been at the receiving point of Yongguk’s anger, until now. “What did you do? Are you seriously asking me that right now?” He questions, his voice rising as his temper does as well.

 

                I didn’t say anything.

 

                “You just left, Himchan. God, I knew it. I’m just like the others to you.”

 

                Panic shoots up within me when I hear him say that. That’s not what I intended to do. I left exactly because he’s so much more different from the others to me. “No, Yongguk---”

 

                “I should’ve known. I was wrong about you.”

 

                Those were just some of the words I feared would ever leave Yongguk’s lips.

 

                “You are a after all. Thanks for letting me know that the hard way.”

 

                “I thought you would be the only one who wouldn’t call me that!” I yell back. A look of guilt flickers on his face, but he stands his ground.

 

                “I don’t want to fight with you right now.” He says instead as shoves me from the door so he could leave. “Goodbye.”

 

                At times like these, that was the word I didn’t want him to say the most. I bury my face into my hands and let my tears flow. I feared that word because I would never know if he would come back, or would just leave forever.

 

                I’m a fool. At some instances, more than usual. Now, I’m probably the most foolish person in the world.

 

 

               

 

 

                That day, I go to detention alone. Yongguk purposely skipped it today, not that it was his fault. It was mine. ‘I’m an idiot’ was a mantra I repeated over and over in my head.

 

                “Himchan-hyung?”

 

                I quickly wipe away the wetness from my eyes with the back of my hand. I turn around to see Junhong staring at me, perplexed. “Hi, Junhong.”

 

                 When he sees my eyes red and sore, he quickly scrambles in his school bag for some tissues. He hands it over to me, and I silently thank him.

 

                “Why were you crying?” He asks after a moment of letting me cry it all out. “And where’s Yongguk-hyung?”

 

                I sniffle. “He’s kind of why I’m crying.” I reply, laughing bitterly.

 

                “Oh…” Junhong utters, not looking like he understands it at all. “Why? I mean, he seems to like you very much.”

 

                His naïve words seem to warm my heart and for that, I’m thankful. “Well, I don’t know. Guess he was stupid, but I was stupider and I don’t know – he hates me now, but I love him.” I ramble. “I love him, Junhong.”

 

                “I love him like couples in school love each other. Gross, right?” I laugh again to cover up the hurt in my tone.

 

                “Not at all.” comes his unexpected reply. He’s sincerely smiling at me when I look up at him. He was the single most hopeful and wise kid I knew. “Tell him. I’m sure he loves you too.”

 

                “Hey! Junhong! It’s time to go job-hunting!”

 

                Daehyun is with Jongup, and Junhong asks me to come along. In the end I spent the day helping a of a guy named Daehyun get employed, with Junhong silently comforting me.

 

                In the midst of Daehyun celebrating after he was chosen to work at McDonalds, Junhong turns to me. “Do you know where he is?”

 

                “Who?” I ask, even though I knew he meant Yongguk.

 

                “Yongguk-hyung.”

 

                “Ah, at some rap show he told me to go to. Obviously it’s too late though, and we just fought so he wouldn’t want me there---”

 

                “You should go.”

 

                I stare at Junhong, unmoving. It was a crazy suggestion, but he might just be right. I sigh, assessing my choices. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I mean, Daehyun’s pretty annoying when excited. I don’t want to leave you and Jongup alone with him.”

 

                “We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about us.” Junhong reassures me.

               

                Unable to contain my bursting emotions, I pull Junhong into a hug. “Thank you so much!” I shout, as I made my way to the place where the rap show would be held. “Tell Daehyun congratulations for me!”

               

                I’m going to make things right with Yongguk. I should. And I will.

 

                I see Junhong nod and wave from afar. I couldn’t be more thankful for his subtle advice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A/N: i think this is the longest one so far??? idk i actually don't know but

yeah can't you just tell i'm himchan-biased LOL ;U;

the next one will be yongguk's o/