Chapter Eight: Western Princess Dream

“Yah. You’ve been on that phone since lunch. What gives?”

Ilsoon looked up. Ilhoon had come up in front of her, his undershirt drenched in his sweat. He was breathing hard and he was wet and shining under the sun’s dimming light.

Ilsoon and the boys were on the school’s rooftop, and they were playing basketball while she just sat on the bleachers. She was supposed to be keeping tabs on the scores, but she was so preoccupied with her phone and whoever was talking to her that she had stopped counting half an hour ago.

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she snapped and turned her attention back on her phone, although she kept her peripheral vision plus one ear observing Ilhoon’s movements.

Ilhoon narrowed his eyes and plunked down next to her. “Yah, what are you hiding from me, huh?” He tried to snatch away Ilsoon’s phone, but just as he was quick, so was she. In an instant she was standing across the court and mocking her twin.

“Ew, don’t sit next to me drenched in sweat like that,” she said. “And you’ve gotten a bit slower, haven’t you?”

When she stepped back and turned to run, she came face-to-chest with Hyunsik. She looked up at him and blinked, seemingly confused by the sudden appearance of a tall human being in front of her. She also noticed how his undershirt was stuck against his lean frame because of his sweat, and even his sweat smelled good.

What the heck, Ilsoon? She thought to herself.

Hyunsik’s face burned red as he sidestepped and let her pass. “Careful there, Ilsoon,” he said softly. Ilsoon nodded gratefully, but because of his intervention, Ilhoon had managed to catch up with her.

“Gotcha!” he yelled and kept a firm grip on Ilsoon’s waist.

Ilsoon squirmed underneath his grip. “Ew, you sweat monster! Let me go or I’ll kick you so hard down there you’ll be sorry.” Her face grew extremely serious that Ilhoon jumped off and let her go. She rushed away and spotted Eunkwang coming toward them from across the court.

“Eunkwang oppa, help me! Ilhoon is hunting me down!” she squealed and pretended to hide behind his back. Eunkwang chuckled and played along.

“Yah, Jung Ilhoon! Quit hounding our Ilsoon like a wolf!” he said, trying to buckle down his laughter. “Who are you, EXO?”

Ilhoon scowled. “She’s keeping something from me. She never does that.”

Ilsoon made a face. “Proves how little you know.”

“Why you little—”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Hyunsik’s tall and brooding form materialized behind Ilhoon and he put a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. He wasn’t usually as gloomy-looking as this, thought Ilsoon. He used to smile a lot more. I wonder what happened…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After the night shift guard (“I’m beginning to think that this guy stalks us,” whispered Changsub) found the group on the rooftop and told them to get on home, they decided to eat out. Eunkwang and Minhyuk pooled in what’s left of their allowance and treated the younger ones to dinner.

While they sat around eating some bibimbap, japchae, and other foods, Ilsoon just sat quietly, not eating anything and just drinking iced water. She kept on hand tightly around her phone and another on her glass. Minhyuk was the first to notice her stiffness.

“If you wait any longer, there won’t be any food left for you, yeodongsaeng,” he said. Ilsoon sighed and checked her phone. I have no idea if she’s doing this to really check, or if she wanted the boys to notice something. But the effect became more of the latter.

“Are you waiting for a call?” asked Changsub, forgetting that it was rude to chew while talking.

Ilsoon sighed again and lowered her phone. “I’m fine, I guess.”

The boys could clearly see that she was not fine, even if she were pretending or not. Her twin Ilhoon in particular seemed to have the same thoughts as I.

“Come on, Ilsoon. You want to tell us something,” he prodded. “You’re too obvious.”

Ilsoon relented. “Well, I have this friend, see? She was my only friend when I was in Paris, mainly because when I first got there, she was the only one who could talk to me.”

There was a pause. They waited for her to continue. And continue she did.

“She’s fully French, but the reason she could talk to me in Korean was because she studied the language. She’s particularly interested in Korean culture, and she likes Kpop. Her name is Madeleine; Madeleine Beauregard.”

The boys felt themselves leaning in with interest. She had them at ‘she’s fully French’. Then Sungjae put on a confused look.

“What’s her name? Ma-de-…what?” he asked.

A sarcastic and mocking look crossed Ilsoon’s face, and for a moment she and Ilhoon looked completely identical it was scary. Well, scarier than usual.

“Madeleine. Ma-del-la-in,” she intoned for their benefit. It sounds pretty wrong, but oh well. Go figure. If her plan were to go well, they had to know. “Now don’t ask me to tell you how to say her last name. Besides, being a Kpop fan, she goes by a Korean pen name: Nam Jiyoo.”

“I think I like her real name better,” said Peniel, being the only who can say her name properly. He looked pretty smug about it too. “Besides, it sounds pretty.”

“It fits her, I guess,” shrugged Ilsoon. On her peripheral vision, she could see each boy’s eyes sparkle with interest.

“What’s she look like, Ilsoon?” asked Sungjae.

“Well, she’s pretty. Not my kind of pretty (ow Ilhoon you didn’t have to pinch me), but more or a princess-kind of pretty.”

And she went on telling them stories about this Madeleine Beauregard lady: how nerdy she is despite her princess-like looks, how annoyed Ilsoon is of her being a neat-freak, or how they met because of a dance troupe in their school that they both joined. By the end of dinner, everyone else thought they knew Madeleine better than they should, after just hearing about her. Everyone has got their own picture of Ilsoon’s friend in their minds.

Question is: who got his picture right?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-