one

Leaving my house has never been this difficult.

It's 9:02AM when my parents and I arrived in front of my supposed dormitory. We got off our almost-old car to get the boxes from the compartment.

The white building in front of us was quite tall and huge. It made me wonder if this was really the dormitory, but the address said so. The gold nameplate on the side also said so.

We entered the building and took the elevator to get to the fourth floor. My parents were silent, and so was I.

When the elevator door opened, the first thing I saw were two men walking like zombies, dragging their feet with their hair looking like a bird's going to drop by and hatch an egg on it anytime. They looked tired after not getting enough sleep the whole night. I looked at my parents, and they seemed fine with it. I looked at these teenage men, and they don't seem to care that a new guy is here to live with them. I was the only one who was bothered, surprisingly.

We continued walking and it seemed that there were actually many freshmen students like me, together with their parents, who were new transfers, too. In seconds, we reached our room. Room 407.

I put the box I was holding and the bag I'm carrying over my shoulders on the floor, and I reached for the keys in my jean's pocket to open the door.

The room's pretty neat and wide for two people to sleep and study on. The walls were generally white but some sides were painted with either blue or yellow, probably representing the college's colors (or maybe because they were trying to calm our asses off). The floor was tiled with a light-colored wood which I find really attractive.

There are two glass desks and a couple of white chairs on one corner, and a bed bunk on another. Empty cabinets are beside the bed, and I thought that it's too big for the wardrobe I brought.

All that's left was for my roommate and I to fill the room with our stuff.

“So this is it, Kyungsoo, my son,” my father said. I smiled faintly because for the first time, I'm going to live on my own. And I still haven't fully digested the fact that I'm going to be apart from my parents.

My mother was beside him, her eyes quite teary. “We'll send you your allowance every month. Spend them well, okay?” she reminded me. I nodded.

My eyes started to blur because tears were coming. “College,” I sighed.

“Be thankful, son. You were given a full scholarship by the most prestigious art college in Seoul. Take care of your grades,” he said. They both came near me and my mother cupped my cheek as she wiped my tears. I wasn't aware that my tears fell, so I laughed.

“I will, Mom and Dad. I will,” I said. I hugged them for the last time and it felt so bittersweet. “I will try to visit you every month,” I said with my voice muffled by my dad's leather jacket. My father kissed my forehead, and he does that seldom. Today marked the start of my college life. Today marked the start of a seemingly independent life.

We brought three more boxes up. They both left when I said that I'll be okay and I can unpack the boxes by myself. I peeked at the window and I saw our faded blue-coated car leave the building.

Just as my parents' left, my phone rang. I checked my phone and it was my roommate who texted me.

im already here in front of the building see you in a while. ^^

I peeked once again at the window, and there he was with his parents. I grinned and quickly prepared myself.

After hearing the doorknob clank a minute or two after, I quickly opened the door for them, and I saw my roommate and his parents with eyes wide open in shock.

“KYUNGSOO!” he shouted in joy. It was too loud for all the people in the long corridor to hear. He hugged me tightly and I grinned. He lets go briefly after and said, “I thought we arrived earlier than you.”

“Chanyeol,” I sighed and smiled. “You were never earlier than me. Ever since high school.” And we both laughed.

“Hello, Kyungsoo. It's nice seeing you again,” his mom said as she projected a genuine smile.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Park,” I said as I bowed.

“It's been quite a while, huh?” his dad said.

“Yeah, it's been two months,” I said.

Chanyeol and I have been best friends since we were freshmen in high school. Moving from Busan to Incheon the moment I graduated elementary made the start of high school difficult for me. I had no friends and I knew that I couldn't make friends easily. To top that, people have always had a first impression on me that I was a big-headed snob.

I had thought that I wouldn't make any friends with my classmates. They all seemed close in a snap of a finger. I felt outcasted. Call that drama, but I say that's how my twisted mind worked that time.

But Chanyeol crushed that thought.

I remember him conversing with me for the first time during the break between our math and history class. He had this confidence to talk to anybody, and everyone in the classroom had liked him.

He turned his back and faced me. “Yo, I'm Park Chanyeol,” he had said as he grabbed and shook my hand firmly (to which I awkwardly shook back because it was completely unexpected). Surprisingly, he was completely audible despite the loud mouths of the class keeping their A-game in blabbering. “You are?”

The first thing I noticed was how deep and husky his voice was for a sixteen-year-old. Way to go puberty. I then noticed how perfect his teeth were when he smiled and how big his ears were. His very short haircut have emphasized that. I smiled to that (which I know wasn't an awkward smile because if it were, he would've creeped out) and said, “I'm Do Kyungsoo.”

He let go of my hand and said, “It's quite a good day, isn't it?” He gazed at the window as he smiled. I was unsure if he had meant that the weather was good or that the day has put him in such a good mood. Nevertheless, I nodded.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” I replied. He stayed silent for a while.

“Anyway, can you help me with…” He paused as he faced front, grabbed his open notebook and pen, and placed it on my desk. Oh no. “With this problem from earlier. I don't seem to get it.” I knew it.

He scratched his head. For a split second, my doe eyes half-lidded. User, I had thought. ing user. If there's anything I hate more than an overcooked rice, it's the people who befriends other people just to get something good from them.

“Do you get it?” he had asked.

Golden rule: “Do not do unto others what you don't want others to do unto you.” So I thought I should be nice, because never have I wanted to be rejected when I start becoming friendly. That would . “Uh… first…” I explained. I cleared my throat. “You need to find x first before finding y.” I continued explaining until I guessed that he got it already. That took me a minute.

He paused for a while. He stared at the notebook with his mouth agape and his left hand on his forehead. He looked at me, then back to the notebook again, then to me again. (What was that?) He exhaled and said, “Wow. You're a genius, Do Kyungsoo.”

For a user, he was good. He remembered my name.

“Thank you so much,” he said, still couldn't believe that it wasn't that difficult. He closed the notebook and looked at me while still smiling (How did he do that? Smiling for too long without looking goofy and weird). “I-I'm sorry if I looked like a user to you earlier.” What? “Uh… I didn't mean to. And I really wanted to be friends with you.”

“You don't need to pity on me,” I said.

“I don't pity you, Kyungsoo. You're incredible, and I want to be your friend,” he said with great emphasis. And I guessed he knew from my eyes what I had been thinking. He guffawed and added, “Not because I want you to help me everyday with these crap math problems that we won't use in the future. I think you're cool with your mysterious façade going on there.” He circled his hand in front of my face.

I snickered as I looked down.

“To which I guess wasn't mysterious at all,” he laughed. He extended his arm, going for another handshake. “Reset? Yo, I'm Park Chanyeol,” he playfully said while still having short breaths of laughter.

I shook his hand and said, “Reset. I'm Do Kyungsoo.”

And our unusual and ludicrous friendship started from there.

“How was America?” I said as I started placing picture frames on my desk.

“'Twas okay,” he said from one corner. And he started uttering English phrases. “How about you? How are you?”

I turned around and looked at him. “Yo, man,” I tried speaking in English. “I…” I looked up, thinking of the grammar rules and words I learned in high school. “I'm… cool?” I looked at him and he was about to laugh anytime. I exhaled and said, “Yeah, you win. You don't have to show your exceptional English skills.” I faced my desk again and continued arranging my things as he laughed.

All of a sudden, a soft object hit my back. I glanced at the floor and it was a rolled white shirt. I picked it up and looked at him.

“What's this?” I asked.

“My small gift for you,” he said. He seemed excited for me to unroll it. “Open it!”

I unrolled it and I couldn't believe it. It was a signed shirt of my favorite band, Foster the People. “No way,” I muttered.

“Yep, Mr. Do Kyungsoo,” he said, nodding.

“H-How?” I asked as I grinned. Who in this world wouldn't freak out if you get a signed shirt of your favorite band? Definitely not me.

“They had a tour back then and I decided to attend them. Luckily, I was part of the cut who can line up for their album signing. I bought a Foster the People shirt and have it signed along with…” He paused and grabbed something from his box. “…their album. Here you go,” he said. He walked towards me and gave it to me.

My body froze for a while. “I don't know what to say,” I said. “Chanyeol, this is too much. This is supposed to be yours.”

“Too much?” he chortled. “Take this as a ‘thank you’ gift for helping me ace the college exam. And I don't like Foster the People that much. I still prefer hiphop, you know.”

I hugged him and patted his back. “Thank you, Chanyeol,” I said. It felt like I was hugging a tree because of how tall he was. Suddenly, I felt his hand patting my back. A moving and talking tree, I thought.

“No problem, man,” he said. He then laughed shortly. “Your height never changed, huh?”

He messed my hair and I could imagine his smile with his teeth showing.

“Girlfriend material,” he joked. He got back to arranging his clothes after.

Girlfriend material.

For a moment, just for a short moment, my heartbeat went from a K. Will song to a SNSD type of song.

And it felt so wrong.