No matter how much Jongdae tried to get him to spill about Friday night, Taekwoon wouldn't budge. He half-wished Seungho would have already just told him and Hakyeon so he didn't have to be bothered—but Hakyeon . . . it felt like he knew something. Taekwoon avoided eye contact with him during lunch while Jongdae whined off question after question.

Despite waiting, Yixing never messaged back, leaving Taekwoon annoyed and wondering why he was "rebelling" and against who. Rebellion came in the form of hanging out with outcasts? That cut off too many options and he didn't like that. Those prejudices could honestly kiss his and stay at least a thousand miles away.

Still . . . He didn't want to look at Hakyeon.

During lunch, Minseok somehow tricked him into visiting the cafe he worked at after school (it might've had something to do with a free latte offer slipped into the lunch table conversation confusion.) Jongdae and Luhan tagged along while Hakyeon said he had homework to finish and tests to study for. At least that noose was loosened for a little while.

The cafe's aroma was strong and warm, stopping unconscious Taekwoon when they walked in. Jongdae pulled him along with a few teases.

Luhan bounded up to the front counter and immediately began chatting off not only Minseok's ear, but two other baristas named Jongin and Daehyun. Jongdae joined them and then Taekwoon stood by awkwardly, wishing he hadn't been duped into coming.

After glancing around, he spotted a stool table near the window on the far side of the cafe and made his way towards safety. A wall sectioned off the building in two and on the other side of it were more tables—Taekwoon blinked.

Hongbin was there.

Of all the places . . .

Hongbin looked up from his phone at him and raised his eyebrows. Taekwoon almost shook his head but decided to keep walking.

It was probably a good idea to pretend he didn't see him because of who he was with—Hongbin seemed to think the same. He cautiously but meaningfully glanced at the chair across from him, almost as if he wanted Taekwoon to join him, but they both knew he couldn't.

He watched Hongbin pull out his phone and look at it, then turned away.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, his eyes widened. How did Hongbin have his number?

Baffled, he stared at the message. How did any of them have his number? He definitely didn't remember giving it out.

Hongbin shrugged and Taekwoon narrowed his eyes when the bright (teasing) smile formed on his face.

By the time Taekwoon decided to reply, Hongbin was already getting up and leaving the shop. He wondered (worried?) if Jongdae would see him at all, which lead to wondering how bad it was that neither of them could be in the same place at the same time. It couldn't be . . . that bad.

. . . And Hongbin couldn't have enjoyed Taekwoon being with them on Friday that much. "Need"? He didn't need to do anything . . .

"Taekwoonie, why are you back here all by yourself?" Jongdae whined, linking their arms. He probably hadn't seen Hongbin. (Was that relief?) "You're the whole damn reason we're here, so you better get us free coffees!"

He let himself be dragged back to the front and glanced out the window to see Hongbin watching with a frown, talking into his phone. He eventually walked away.

"So what kind of latte do you want?" Minseok chirped.

Taekwoon managed to sneak away from the others under the excuse that because he was "still in trouble", he had to get home early. The truth was, once Jongdae announced Hakyeon was joining them, he didn't want to stick around. Still, he didn't feel like going home either, so he found himself back at the park from Friday night.

Save for the few playing kids and their parents at the playground, the park was empty. He plopped down onto a bench and dropped his football to the ground. He bathed in the sun for a few minutes and then leaned over to roll up his pants and start stretching.

One, two, three, four . . . seven, eight, nine . . . twelve, thirteen, fourteen . . . eighteen, nineteen . . .

He bounced it off his head, off his shoulders, his chest, and his knees, practically dancing with it with agile and fluid moves that almost made it seem like the ball floated by itself. He ce, twice, three times, but then something out of place caught his eye and before he could reach thirty, it bounced at a bad angle off his head and rolled away. He watched it with a frown, feeling like he'd seen this scene before.

Before he turned around, Taekwoon took a deep breath.

Somehow, he knew it was going to be Ravi, crooked smile and all. "You really are good." he commented, sauntering closer as Taekwoon warily squared out his shoulders. "Relax," Ravi laughed. "I guess we had the same idea. Is your house near here?"

Without answering, Taekwoon walked over to pick up his ball and then headed for his backpack. "Oh, neat. Is that an invitation?"

Taekwoon hesitated. Ravi, coming over to his house? No. Not with the looming chance that Jongdae or—he tensed up—Hakyeon showing up. He looked back at Ravi, clearly seeing that he was just playing. He relaxed his shoulders.

"Actually," Ravi started, jamming his thumb over his shoulder, "my house isn't too far from here. You should come over and check it out. No one else is home right now, so you don't have to worry about them."

Taekwoon drew up short, staring at Ravi. Go over to his . . . house? He weighed the options, but he could still hear Yixing's annoying lecture about rebellion in his head. This wasn't rebellion. Not if he told a caretaker about Ravi and the others. But why would he really want to? It wasn't like it was important, and he wasn't actually grounded anymore . . .

As much as it grated on his nerves to admit, Ravi was some sort of mystery he couldn't wait to unravel. He didn't really want to spend too much time thinking about it, but who was Ravi, what kind of life did he lead? There were too many questions he had, irritating as it was.

It seemed like a far-reaching idea, but what about Hongbin and the others? They probably all lived in the same neighborhood. He internally snorted, they could have all lived together in the same house (with the way they played, they almost made it seem like that).

Taekwoon bit his lip in thought, glancing at the time on his phone.

There was a little time.

Taekwoon blinked at the message, originally thinking Seungho wasn't the type to ask. If he took too long to reply, Seungho would get suspicious. He decided Minseok owed him.

Taekwoon rolled his eyes and messaged Seungho back.

Were the ellipses really necessary? Taekwoon shrugged and looked back up, his shoulders falling from the surprise and weird pressure of Ravi's almost intense gaze.

Nerves a little pulled, Taekwoon cleared his throat and Ravi snapped out of his trance. He grinned.

"Can you come?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Taekwoon shrugged on his backpack and Ravi's grin grew.

By the way things were, by everything that had happened so far, it didn't seem like Ravi had parents. Taekwoon tried to keep an open and inactive mind about where they were going while Ravi told him that they were a few minutes away. Now that he thought about it, he never saw Ravi wearing a school uniform either.

He nearly ran into Ravi's side because he hadn't noticed he stopped in front of . . .

A brick house.

A two-story, dark-brick house that had some years on it, if the lush plants crawling up its side were anything to go by. Taekwoon took a few steps forward to get a better look. He hated to admit such a cliché thing, but the house popped up right out of a fantasy book, so much more different than the other houses they passed earlier.

Some of the dark forest green paint was chipping off the door with the golden knocker that crowned deteriorating stone steps. Whether or not the windows were actually dirty or just tinted, he didn't know, but he couldn't see into them—none of them seemed broken or cracked. A high iron bar fence surrounded the house and blocked the rest of his view, so he took to noticing the overgrown plants that climbed up and weaved through its thin bars.

Taekwoon blinked a few times, not knowing what to think. It had a weird charm, sure, but it mostly just seemed rundown. Not too surprising.

He looked back over his shoulder to catch Ravi staring at him again and then he looked back to the house. "Well?" he mumbled, "Were you just going to let me admire the outside?"

Ravi coughed a laugh (was that embarrassment?) and passed Taekwoon to open the gate. Vaguely reminding Taekwoon of a horror movie, the gate groaned open. Could it be that Ravi was a serial killer? Most of them were pretty charming after all, and it would explain an awful lot.

Taekwoon watched his feet move up the cracked cobblestone path infested with unkempt greenery. After eying the stone steps warily, he took one at a time to the paint-chipped door. When Ravi gripped the faded gold doorknob, he inhaled a breath.

The more Taekwoon hung around these people, the more he learned how true it was to never judge a book by its cover. Light poured in from the windows, shining onto the smooth, clean wooden flooring. The walls were cleanly painted cream, but as Ravi lead him down the hallway lined with framed pictures, the colors got darker.

They walked into a high-ceiling, spacious living room straight out of an interior design magazine, color coordination and all.

Two leather couches sat adjacent to each other and faced a black entertainment system (with a whole lot of video game consoles and video games), topped off by a huge flat-screen TV. Taekwoon turned his head left and right to see surround sound speakers hidden throughout the room and a stereo sitting in the far corner. Sitting under an oval-shaped, black coffee table with a glass center was a dark red carpet. He kind of wanted to rub his face into it.

From there, at least three other hallways branched off to different parts of the house while a wooden-floored staircase led to the second floor.

There must have been a funny look on his face because Ravi's chuckle brought him back to reality.

"Not what you thought, huh?" Ravi grinned, and Taekwoon shook his head, blinking a few times and letting the unfamiliar scent of the house settle into him.

Not was he was expecting at all.

Ravi rubbed the back of his neck and glanced up the staircase. "All of the rooms are on the second floor except for mine. I'd show you, but I'm not sure anyone else would like that too much since they're not here."

". . . The others? Your family?" Taekwoon asked, giving a sidelong glance.

Ravi faltered and stared at him, like he realizing Taekwoon was in his house for the first time. Taekwoon frowned.

Ravi recovered quickly. "Family, I—. . . The . . . Yeah. Others." He quickly cleared his throat, waving a hand. "I thought . . . you woulda figured it out?" he mumbled hopefully. "It's . . . It's me, Yongguk, Hongbin, Ken, and Hyuk . . . We live here. Together."

Drawing up short in a response, Taekwoon looked around the living room again. But how could five kids afford a place like this? They must have stole a hell of a lot of money.

Or killed someone.

It made sense for himself of course, because his parents were paying for his apartment (more like pity paying, but who was keeping score . . .) but what kind of kids owned a two-story house?

When Taekwoon finally looked back at Ravi, a nervous expression with a cloudy gaze took over his face. A thick wall suddenly sat between them and maybe sticking around wasn't a good idea—but that was annoying. If Ravi was just going to act like this, why bother inviting him? He shouldn't have come in the first place.

Without waiting to be stopped, he his heel from the unfitting living room. His feet carried him down the hallway of photographs and through the paint-chipped door. Step after step, he moved down the cracked stairs and the destroyed path. The gate closed behind him with a loud bang. He didn't bother looking back.

Ravi didn't stop him.

After a short knock on his door, Seungho opened it and there was Taekwoon, barely concealing a scowl and a rain cloud striking lightning over his head.

Seungho quickly ran through possible reasons for Taekwoon's bad mood, but he decided it was probably better to play it up to teenage hormones and leave it at that.

The way Taekwoon glanced up at him made him worry he'd burst out into yelling (or maybe tears) but he just looked back down instead. He hesitantly invited him in.

Taekwoon sat, legs folded, on Seungho's small soft fabric couch and his scowl was trained on the moving pictures of the television. Maybe a small part of him just didn't want to be alone, but he really didn't feel like leaving. Thankfully, Seungho wasn't asking questions, but his concerned gaze kept coming his way every two minutes.

"Are you hungry?" Seungho asked about a half-hour later, and Taekwoon nodded without looking away from the TV.

When he set off to the kitchen, Taekwoon pulled out his phone and saw a few unread messages.

Minseok was reminding him that he had to go back to the cafe tomorrow (and maybe for the rest of the week after school?), Luhan was complaining that Jongdae wont stop whining about you!! come pick up your pet! , Jongdae actually was whining that he left the cafe and didn't bring him along, and then the last one was from an unfamiliar number.

Unknown number. Ravi's? It wasn't Hongbin's, he had (unwillingly) saved that—but he didn't think it was Ravi's either. After today, he didn't think Ravi would text him just like this, easily asking like that.

Something about that look in Ravi's eyes made him feel like he didn't want him in the house anymore because he was . . . something. Scared? Worried? Nervous? Ravi turned into a dear in headlights the moment he asked about his family. What did that mean? How was he "supposed" to know Ravi lived with Yongguk and the others? It wasn't exactly normal.

Besides, what was Ravi so worried about? It's not like Taekwoon had room to judge, he lived alone. Ravi didn't even look like the type to care about being judged anyway, but maybe he was wrong about that.

Sure, he was a little curious about the house and their family situation, but who cared if they were runaways . . . or whatever. No parents, less problems.

He sniffed indignantly.

God, he was still hung up over that stupid face Ravi made . . . Maybe he was a little spoiled because he felt so easily trusted—it probably wasn't like that for everyone. As he realized, watched, and saw things unfold around Ravi and his . . . friends, maybe it was bad taste to ask for easy-coming trust.

. . . Understanding that didn't stop the bitterness.

Dinner was nearly done, Seungho announced, and confidently asked Taekwoon to set the table. When he asked what Taekwoon wanted to drink, he wondered if he had any omija. Seungho did (to his surprise) and brewed a small kettle-full. He drank it gladly, thinking that maybe he was starting to like Seungho just a little.