Your POV:
As you wake up, you look around the room, shocked at first, and then relieved. No memories from last night come to you. You smell the scent of bacon lingering in the air, and follow its trail into the kitchen.

Chunji was frying bacon, with the oil splattering everywhere, hissing fiercely, spitting at Chunji. He was wearing an apron, with gloves, a mask and goggles to ‘protect’ himself. What a fool, you thought to yourself as you grabbed the spatula he was holding and fried the bacon for him.

“Thank you.” he said as he took a seat in the dinner table.
“Where’s your parents?” you asked over the hissing of the frying pan.
“They left to work early,” he replied. “So did your parents.”
“They always leave us alone.” you whisper to yourself.
“Ah,” you whimpered. The hot oil stung your skin. You finish frying the pan with red hands. “Here, eat up.”

Chunji, who saw your hands, grabbed them and stared at you in somewhat annoyance.
“What’s this?” he asked you in irritation.
“It’s nothing,” you shrug off, rubbing your hand because his grip was so strong.
“It’s not nothing. Wash it off with cold water.” he said, dragging you to the sink.
Unresisting, you follow him. He turns on the tap and washes your hand. His hands are gentle, and even under the freezing cold water, his palms bring a sense of warmth and protection around yours.

Then it rushed to you.
“Ah, I need clothes to change into!” you exclaimed in panic. My house is locked and I didn’t think of bringing keys... Aish.
Chunji, without saying a anything else, ran upstairs and came back holding, in his arms, an oversized shirt, a scarf, skinny jeans and a jacket. All men clothing.
“I have to wear this to school?!” you yelled.
“I have nothing better for you! Look, I only have two of the same shirt left. The rest of my shirts are in the wash. You wear the smaller one and I will wear the bigger one.” he says, in attempt to compromise.
“We have to wear the same shirt?!” you yelled again. Why do you have two of the same shirt anyway, you wonder, confused.
“Just hurry up and get changed, we’re late already!” he yelled as he ran upstairs.

Frustrated, you hurried and got changed.
After you finished, you go to the living room and you see Chunji, who starts staring at you for a while.
“What did you do with my shirt?” yells Chunji when he sees you.
“Nothing!” you reply as you open the front door. What’s wrong with it? “Hurry up or I’ll leave you!”
“Don’t leave me! We have tests and speeches today!” he replies.
You both walk down the street, memorizing and reciting phrases and sentences.
“Chunji,” you remind him. “Don’t forget that it is the twelve traditional symbols of longevity!”
“Huh?” he doubts. “Isn’t it ten? Are you lying to me?”
“No!” you exclaim in denial. “It’s twelve, it’s twelve!”
You both laugh unsure of what the real answer is.
“It must be twelve.” says Chunji, agreeing with you.

“Lee Chanhee,” announces the teacher. “It is your turn to give your speech.”
You tighten the grip on your pencil, and you see Chunji walking slowly to the front of the class. If you weren’t his best friend, no one would’ve ever guessed that he was nervous. The girls clap loudly and scream his name, and he looks at you. You smile, and mouth the word ‘hwaiting’. Immediately, he straightens himself and presents his speech.

After the end of his speech, he leaves everyone awestruck and amazed, even you. That was your first amazing speech, Chun-chun, you think proudly to yourself. As he walks past you, you teasingly slap his . You hear a chair screech behind you, and he whispers in your ear:
“That was scary.”
You wave in the air, trying to gesture that he did well.

The girls in the class eye you, out of envy and jealousy, that one could be that close to Chunji. Ever since you were young, this was the case. Chunji was popular, you were popular, and so it gave girls all the more reason to hate you. Maybe that's why it is so hard for you to make a friend that's a girl. You stare out the window and sigh. This is going to be another typical day.