*the order of events (song release, Rolling Stones...) may be a little askew but ignore it haha.**

So now I have a bunch of soap I know I am only going to end up handing out to my friends when I go home for Christmas break but you know what? I've never been this excited to wash dishes before. My book bag is really heavy and I almost regret the purchases but I also bought a box of peppero so not all is bad. Oh…peppero.

I put my head phones on as I walk into the subway station for the ride back home and turn on shuffle only to be greeted by the leeleeleeleela's of TOP's new song Doom Dada. 

Oh right. He was busy. I'm feeling guilty again. Wait, no! Don't feel guilty, he's the one who has been crazying up your life without notice. 

Why am I complaining?

This is why I am so frustrated!!!

The doors open for the subway and my luck graces me again when I find a free seat. I take off my book bag and lay it on my lap as I sit down and sink into the seat, closing my eyes as I listen to the tantalizing chorus of TOP's new song.

Suddenly, the song is interrupted by the shrill ring of my cellphone. Without opening my eyes, I click the button on my headphones to answer it.

"Yes Annie, I'm on my way home," I say. "Do you have any dishes that need cleaning? I just bought more soap than I know what to do with," I say with a laugh. She's the only one that even has my number. I use Kakao for everyone else.

"Why do you always run away from me?" a humor filled voice rings through my headphones. Jolted, I sit up in my seat. "And no, I don't at the moment but if you give me a moment, I’ll be at my house in a few and I can get some if you need them," he says. 

"Seunghyun! What? How-"

"What do you mean, how? My driver is bringing me back to my house and-"

"My number…" I trail off with my thoughts, remembering I called him so maybe he saved it in his contacts. “Never mind…"

"So," he say, lightheartedly. "Can I come shopping with you next time or are you going to run away from me again?" he asks.

"I don't run…away…" I try to stand up for myself but I know I'm not telling the truth. Why do I keep abandoning him once he gets awkward. When he's not around I'm freaking out that I did something wrong but when he finally shows up I run away if he embarrasses me the slightest bit. "Well…w-why do you even want to hang out with me?" I stutter. "I'm just a fan," I say.

"Answer my question,"

"Answer mine,"

"Why do you avoid my questions?" he asks.

"You always avoid mine," I retort. 

He sighs on the other end of the phone in defeat, and a shiver goes down my spine. "Fine. Can you meet me at my place in…" he pauses, I assume trying to calculate the amount of time it would take for me to get there from the town that I hopped off the subway at. "Forty-five minutes?"

"I have class tomorrow," I moan.

"Do you want me to answer your questions or not?" he says, still sounding light. He never seems to lose that tone of voice.

Now it's my turn to sigh. "Fine. Where do you live?"

"Just wait up. I'll send you a car. Home Plus right? I assume thats why you are now carrying a bag full of soap,"

.          .          .
Exactly forty-five minutes after the car picks me up, I find myself entering Seunghyun's house. 

"Hello?" I chime softly, half way in the house as I look around. The foyer is dimly lit and it feels like no one is home. His house is huge but it feels empty. Is he even in here?

"In here!" I hear him call from a room somewhere in the great beyond. I gently close the door behind me and step in. As I take off my shoes, he emerges from the end of the long hallway, a glass of what I assume is wine in one hand and motioning for me to follow him with the other. He's smiling, wearing a comfortable looking yet still classier than I can afford looking gray sweater. He changed since I saw him on the sweater. I notice I am wearing my G-dragon socks and I could kill myself right here and now.

I set my book bag down on the floor by the wall and tiptoe my way in his direction as if I am going to wake someone, but in reality I just feel like my feet don't belong on such an expensive looking floor. When I reach him he looks down at my feet and smirks. "Hi," I say, embarrassed.

"You really do like G-dragon more than me?" he says, but I can tell that he is joking.

"I bet you like Beyoncé more than you like me," I say smiling back at him.

He looks down as he shakes his head and laughs quietly. "Follow me," he says, wrapping an arm around mine and entwining his fingers into mine with his free hand. I notice when he lifts the wine glass to his lips and takes down an abnormally large gulp. He doesn't let out any air the way most people do when they drink. He holds it all in, trying not to be noticed by me. I choose not to comment on it.

He leads me into a living room the size of half my house back home and sinks into a black leather one seater and motions for me to sit down on a matching couch to the side of him. He keeps his grip on his wine glass firm, despite the frailness of it's paper thin make. I'