efficiency and execution

Jongin would be that one person that always needed that extra push in life; his pathetic existence needs all the help it can possibly get, but who really cares if the man himself claims that “he’s got it all under control”. 

But ever since he was a young boy -- naive and still retained a quality of innocence -- Jongin’s definition of control had differed from the majority of people. 

His mother had always told him efficiency and execution are two of the most important elements of success — he could have sworn that the use of alliteration was cool the first time he heard it. “Make it fast and make it good,” she always told him sternly when he had asked her for advice on his science experiment (yes, the one with X). The advice she gave him at the time was not much of use to him, and it was not until later did he realize that what she had told him really did matter, and doing things the most efficient way would soon become his life-long goal.

So to Jongin, control was getting things done quick and fast, and there was no time to idle around and take the long way.

Everything unnecessary is just a waste of time.

At least this is the thought that occurs to him when his homeroom teacher kindly proposes a suggestion -- or what Jongin perceives to be a threat -- that every student is required to enter themselves into an extra curricular club because of some board of studies requirement. Bull-to-the-; everybody knows that somophores have a burning determination to preserve whatever physical enthusiasm they have left in their rotting carcasses (in other words, they won’t be ed to do anything) so Jongin makes an accurate assumption that the board of studies are just desperate men-in-suits searching for ways to make the somophores and their already ish lives even more y than already proven. Stupid important people.

Joining an after-school club was unnecessary. It definitely did not fit his mantra of pursuing efficiency and execution, and that thought irked him.

“Guys, what are you going to do?” asks an overly excited man with his husky, bass-like trademark voice. Jongin stared incredulously at him. The poor kid suffers a drastic illness of “hyperactivitus”. His occasional eye twitch freakishly paralleled his own hand twitch when he was younger. The fact that he could resemble the infamous “crackyeol giant” was a hateful reality in itself.

Sehun (A.K.A “The Hun” -- stupid nicknames deserve to go with stupid people, Jongin claims), the model candidate for “most desired people Jongin wants to punch in the throat”, speaks up first.

“The Hun’s going for the swimming team.”

“Can you even swim?” Jongin questions harshly after taking a furious bite into his cheese and mayonnaise sandwich. “Enjoy the mayo,” his senior had told him. And he did — very much. After all those years in highschool whipping up his own sandwiches, he wouldn’t shy away from the title of “best sandwich maker in the century”. Jongin bets he could make better sandwiches than his own wife in the unforeseeable, vague and very distant future.

“Doesn’t matter. I get to see hot babes in swimsuits and that’s more than I can ask for,” he replies with a mischevious grin. “You do realize that on excursions and outings, they wear bikinis.”

“He makes a good point, I mean, the girls here are like—”

“You’ll just drown to death before you get a chance to enjoy the view.” Jongin cuts in coldly.

“You’re such an Jongin. I can’t believe that you were once the awkward and quiet we adopted in the corner.” snaps back Baekhyun with an added childish flavour by sticking his tongue out at Jongin. 

"You didn't adopt me!"

"Why yes we did."

"You annoying dickhead." Jongin scowls, watching Baekhyun's entire body twitch as a reaction to his raised fist.

Baekhyun was that little that vibrated like his Samsung Galaxy S4 whenever makeup remover appeared within the vicinity. Despite his eery resemblance to a cute, little puppy, he was quite the childish jerk, which was interesting; he’s never had a friend that he’d actually had much fun bullying without being worried of damaging their friendship.

"The feeling is mutual."

“Yeah, whatever, bacon,”

Now that he reflects upon it, the whole group was filled with jerks of the likes of Baekhyun — they could afford to lose one or two. Baekhyun was fun to annoy, mainly because he had flaws to be paid tribute to and most predominantly because his reactions made it all worth it.

The said boy spoke his mind, “I’m definitely taking beauty or anything involving artistry.”

"Artisty as in make-up," Jongin mutters under his breath. It was expected after all.

“HAH, GAY,” Sehun hollers loud enough for the teacher to hear and frown at him. He cowers back on his seat shamefully. Jongin just rolls his eyes. 

“I’m going to be part of the student representative council,” Joonmyun’s voice fills in the lingering silence.

“Of course you are, Joonmyun,” Chanyeol deadpans, clearly unsurprised in the slightest way. 

Well, nobody really is surprised; Joonmyeon was just that goody-two-shoed perfectionist who had a very serious and very worrying OCD regarding feet and teeth.

“Oh my gosh, did you just try to pick meet off your teeth—ew, ew, what, why even—okay, what the is your problem, you demented child -- you could get gum infection for goodness sakes, who knows where that toothpick has been -- you mentally deficient buffoon!” he once yelled at Jongin when he had been picking some leftover meet stuck between his teeth with a toothpick.

Ignoring Jongin’s existence, nobody really knows how the self-righteous grandfather got invited to the group. But his character became the balance within the group — he was morally superior, whilst everyone else was just a pure jackass at heart (plus Jongin, the awkward ). Without his granted services, the entire group would have pure jackass material (made in Korea -- go it China) and all hell would have broken loose, as if it weren't already. The group is secretly thankful for this, and occasionally repays him by making use of his wallet and giving him the benefit of the doubt to assume that they all actually care about him.

“Kyungsoo, are you going for the cooking club or something?” Jongin asks with genuine curiosity. Kyungsoo nods his head with a slight smile.

“Sure thing. I could probably learn how to cook foreign meals and treat you guys to some of my cooking.”

Kyungsoo was the one man actually exempt from Jongin’s disgust. Sure, Kyungsoo had this creepy satanic aura about him -- certainly not because Jongin had assumed that the main purpose of his unusually large Asian eyes was for staring into people’s souls and planting social anxiety into his victims -- but hey, was a good kid. Not only was Kyungsoo diversely talented and mentally stable in all ways, he was the only one that could ever empathize with Jongin’s passion in the art of sandwich-making — only because Jongin was able to connect with him on a culinary level. Otherwise, their tied existences were meaningless, and they would lose all connection with each other. 

Zero bars.

No signal.

.

Jongin was well aware that his friends were weird and had no clear futures, and he often thought that he was the only sane one between them. But then again, given his divine wisdom in all things awkward, his future was probably as clear as being the author of the world’s best-selling book called “Deficiency In Communication: Korean Standard”, A.K.A . (Yes, don’t judge, his book would have been named specifically just for that reason.)

Jongin is weird too, if one ponders upon it.

“So wait, Chanyeol, what are you joining?”

Everyone turns to him in anticipation.

“The cheerleading squad.”

But then again, that doesn’t change the fact that his friends are weird as .

saranghae

I feel like my story is going nowhere. It's not good enough. I'm stressed, I'm bored, I'm blank, I'm hungry, I'm running out of ideas, I'm procrastinating, I'm wasting time that I should be spending for the better.

But I'm happy.

credits - contradictori