chapter eight; 

                  theory

»  I'm sitting in a plastic chair, awkwardly shifting in my seat as people came in and out of the auditorium. Doyoon was trying out for the school play Peter Pan and I had tagged along for moral support. Only, I didn't think he'd take five years just to audition. Finally, the doors swing open and Doyoon walks out, grinning. I immediately stand up straight and smile at him as he approaches me.

"Well? How was it? How was your audition?"

He grins, nodding. "It was great! Just you wait, Lisa. I'm going to get that lead role."

»  The day the roles are announced, Doyoon bounces off the bus, tugging me along. "Come on, Lisa! I want to get there before anyone else does!"

I laugh, following him into the school, down the hallway to the bulletin board where there was already a long line of students. He pushes past everyone, muttering 'excuse me's' and 'sorry's' before scanning the board for the list. The place soon clears out and Doyoon is frowning, staring at the list.

"Well, what role did you get?"

"A Lost Boy."

"Hey! That's good right?

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" I scan the list myself, furrowing my eyebrows."At least you have a part."

"But I didn't get the lead, Lisa!" He shouts, storming back outside.

"Doyoon! Where are you going? Class is going to start soon - "

"I don't care!" He shouts back, pushing the school doors open and walking out. I quickly follow, brushing past older students before finding him outside, sitting on the last step by the front.

I sigh, walking down the stairs and sitting down next to him. "It's okay, you know. There will be other plays."

"So? It's not like I'm going to get the big parts."

"Hey, some people tried and didn't even get a part, period," I pointed out, raising my eyebrows.

He shrugs. "I'll never be an actor, Lisa."

"Hey, don’t say that! You can't accomplish your dream if you don't try, Doyoon-ah."

He looks over to me and gives me a meek smile. "What are you, my motivator?"

"Your one and only!"

»  The three of us decide to call it quits once we're all done our bubble tea and head home - it's been a tiring day and we're all pretty worn out. I don't know how idols do it - the (crazy) fans, the tiring schedule. I was tired after one fan meet and meet them once. Imagine having to go to twenty and having to meet thousands of fans. I thought of the snarky fan that we had bumped into there and made a face. If any of them were like her, I don't think I'm up for that.

The bus ride home was soothingly quiet, all of us saying goodbye at the stops. Jordan got off first and then Bella. As always, I was the last one to get off. By now, it was around seven o'clock - much too early to go to sleep, much too tired to do anything. I get off at my stop, walked to my house and opened the door, greeting my parents to tell them I was home before making my way upstairs.

"How was the fan meet?" My dad asks, not looking up from the TV.

"It was fun," I replied, continuing up the steps. "Tiring though."

He laughs. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you meet celebrities."

I ponder on this, agreeing that indeed, celebrities had the tendency to wear you out. I pushed open the door to my room and flung myself on the bed, burying myself into my pillow. It was nice for a moment but I knew I had to shower so I pushed myself upright, trekked to the washroom and took a long, hot shower.

Once I was out, I quietly moved back to my room and repositioned myself on the bed, face in the pillow, body laid out on the bed. I didn't care that my hair was wet, my whole body was sore. I laid there for a moment in silence, when suddenly it hit me.

Today, I met Seventeen.

A grin creeps onto my face and I let out a squeal, fleeing my arms around. I got a sudden burst of energy, jumping out of bed and walked over to my desk, sitting down at the table as I pulled out the rolled up poster that sat in my bag. I didn't even get a good look at it yet so I sat there and studied the Seventeen poster I had received today.

I scan the face, another smile creeping onto my face when suddenly my cell phone rings. I reach over to the bed where I had thrown it earlier and pick it up. ""Yeoboseyo," I called, holding the phone with my shoulder and ear as I stood up, holding onto the poster.

"Yeoboseyo, Lisa!"

I lose grip on the tape and it crashes onto the floor, making a cuss word escape past my mouth. "Hey, did you reach home safety?"

"No, that's why I'm calling," she scoffs.

I laugh. "Well, sorry for trying to look out for you,."

"Anyways, I have a theory."

"This should be good." I bite a piece of tape off the roll and stick it onto a corner of the poster . I roll my eyes before I stand back for a moment ,closing one eye, approving that it was straight. "Alright, let's hear it."

"I think Doyoon likes you."

I tug on the tape, biting another piece off. "What's that?"

"I think Doyoon from Seventeen likes you!"

"Ah." I fumble with the tape again, the tap sticking to my fingers instead of the poster. "Wait, hold on." I place the phone down on the table before throwing the tape from my fingers in the trash and stick two new pieces onto the bottom corners. I stand back, admire it for a moment, tracing Seungcheol's signature before grabbing my phone and jumping into bed. "Okay, sorry, what was that?"

She sighs from the other end. "I think Doyoon likes you."

I laugh. "What did you say?"

"OH MY GOD, LISA. I THINK DOYOON LIKES YOU."

"First of all, he's an idol. And I don't think he can like someone who he met like two days ago," I pointed out.

"Whatever. Explain the sweater then."

I make a face. "He spilled a drink on me, Bells."

"Flirting at the summer festival?"

"He was being friendly, alright? We weren't flirting!" I defend, frowning. "I barely know him."

"Riiiiight." I can image her rolling her eyes. "Yeah well, my final theory is that Doyoon likes you and that you like him back."

"Your theory is wrong, ma'am," I said.

"Is it? Where's the sweater right now?"

I glanced down, grimacing when I saw the grey sweater on me. "On the chair," I lied.

"I bet it is." A pause. "Yeah, well, that's all I wanted to tell you. Now that I have told you, I'm gonna leave."

I laugh. "Thank you for your time."

"Oh, and the dinner tomorrow! That's still on, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded even though I knew she couldn't see. "You're coming, right?"

"Duh. Your mom's cooking is great."

"Alright, see you then."

We hang up and I study myself in the large mirror across the room, tugging at the sleeves of the sweater and cuddle into it. It was big on me but it was comfy. And I liked it. I crawled in behind my covers, turned off the lights and fell asleep.

I sleep with the sweater on, despite the weather.