In which things aren’t right and there’s this boy that just pretty much ruins everything that’s already been…ruined.

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"You know, if you were normal, you’d have all the guys going after you," your little sister remarks as she rubs her lips together with newly applied lip gloss. You roll your eyes because you’ll never listen to her advice and she’ll never listen to yours seeing as you two are polar twins. She loves shopping, you loathe it. She has a problem with cats; you’re going to end up an old cat lady. She’s got the looks, you don’t. She has the guys, you definitely don’t. The two of you is just one big contradiction and yet, the two of you still seem to click a bit.

“I can’t believe you just said that. And you of all people should know that there’s no such thing as normal,” you refute, about to part ways so you can go to the roof for lunch break.  She makes her way to the cafeteria and waves her hand in a manner of shooing off the matter. Fine with you.

The trip to the roof is worth the sixty steps and since you are a track star, it takes absolutely no effort to take the stairs.

From the roof, there’s only a rail on the edges, not a fence. You can see the Namsan and Samsung towers if you look in the right direction and the weather up here feels amazing. So maybe there is an elevator to the top, but sometimes they don’t work and people become more accident prone when being forced to use their lazy to climb the stairs.

The outside is a calm serenity, something that you crave everyday even though you’re surrounded by it anyways.  ”Why…” you question to nobody.

“I wonder that, too.”

You whip your head in the general direction of the lilting voice that surprisingly belongs to a boy and with the way he has his sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked, he’s a popular boy, a kingka.

“I hate it when people tell me to wake up and smell the fresh air,” he continues and walks over to you. “I’ve already woken up, but I can’t smell the fresh air because there isn’t fresh air here in Incheon.”

You crack a small smile and there’s an outstretched hand under your nose that belongs to the too pretty boy standing next to you. “Byun Baekhyun.”

You pointedly look at his hand then return to soaking in the sight of skyscrapers and bustling cars. As his hand falls, you breathe, “_____ _______.”

You steal a glance at him and your mouth nearly falls open in awe because his smile is something so beautiful, something so true to his soul that its almost heartbreaking and you weren’t exactly prepared for his moment as now your heart is jumping in sporadic rhythms.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure.”

And this is just the start.

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Baekhyun is…perfect. He may like girl group dances too much for your liking, but he’s so inspired by everything to dance and sing. Much to your chagrin, he makes fun of your clumsiness and inability to do anything artistic but paint and play the violin, piano, and guitar, and you add that doing four things amount to more than two in his case. He has a few classes with you, not that you ever noticed because you are a social recluse and not knowing anybody in the class is a fine business for you.

Your little sister makes fun of you constantly about how you went for loner to having a boyfriend and you have to remind her that he’s not your boyfriend, but maybe you do have a little (lies.) feeling for him (more like raging lions) and you wish you didn’t.

She’s attempted to hook you up with him but you tell her that it’s all her fault if you lose your friendship with Baekhyun.

He finally manages to get you hang out with him outside of school and honestly, for once, you’re happy. Not that you weren’t happy before, but you weren’t depressed, maybe too happy to be depressed but too sad to be happy, always in the grey area. Baekhyun’s finally shown you the outside world, outside of your figments of imagination and your home. For some reason, he took you near a bar one time, to which you tugged your body away from the smoke-filled building and he complied once a drunkard came and pushed you away to try to hit on you, which was unsuccessful seeing as Baekhyun can pack a punch for such a skinny guy.

And so that concludes junior year, and when senior year starts, there’s this new boy named Park Chanyeol and he and Baekhyun hit it off instantly because oh dear god, they’re so alike, but you put yourself them to be 1) closer to Baekhyun and 2) the two together would explode the universe.

“You should come watch the new horror movie with us!” Chanyeol laughs into the phone, Baekhyun voicing his opinion in the back. They know how much you hate horror movies even if the effects are stupid and cheesy and unnerving, but there’s a reason why you are a hermit.

“You guys go ahead. I’m a little tired,” you sadly smile into the phone, your other hand clenching the cloth over your heart.

“She says she’s tired,” Chanyeol tells Baekhyun and the two of them both whine into the earpiece. You can’t help but look out the window and realize this is the safest thing for you.

And that’s how it starts.

The next few months at school involves you slinking through hallways and blending with the crowd. You never told them that you were planning to cut your hair, and seeing as they can barely recognize you with your hair in a bun, it’d be nearly impossible to recognize you with boy hair. There’s a string of missed phone calls and lame excuses that somehow work on them and watching their frantic gaze behind backs of students.

But you hate that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the fact that you’re doing this all because of Baekhyun is not too mind boggling, but still mind-boggling enough to boggle minds.

It’s physically hard to breathe even if your within a twenty seven feet radius of them, which is almost always because that’s how packed the school is and classrooms are spread but not disseminated throughout the school, and as much as it irritates you, you can’t really do anything about it.

You don’t realize how engrossed you are in your thoughts until a hand tightly grabs onto your forearm and you rapidly spin around to see who’s successfully shocked you out of your stupor.

You should’ve known.

“Wha—”

The hand drags you in the opposite direction of the student flow and you have to daintily weave through the crowd to avoid being caught and still manage to be attached to your captor.

Why are roofs always the consulting rooms?

Before the door to the roof has forcefully swung shut, Baekhyun has your paler face in his hand and twists it from side to side, leaving you absolutely silent because the expression on his face is probably the most serious that you have ever seen on him.

Not long afterwards, Chanyeol storms up with the same serious expression and you don’t think you’re ready for this confrontation.

“Give me your phone,” Baekhyun demands, outstretching his arm and bending his fingers back and forth in an impatient gesture and grabby motion.

You warily fish your phone out of your pocket and hand it to him, watching in horror as his fingers fly across the screen to enter your passcode that you never changed and a smirk crawl across his face when he sees the—

Oh damn, your background picture.

So now they know that you haven’t forgotten them and they apparently haven’t and this is going to be one messy situation of excuses and explanations that aren’t typically needed. “So,” Baekhyun starts, jamming his hands in his pockets. “Where’ve you been, huh?”

“Run out of excuses?” Chanyeol sneers, copying Baekhyun’s stance. Those two really go well together.

“Um, no?” you question. “Not that I had any in the first place?” you quickly correct yourself.

Something changes in them and both glares soften. “What did we do?” Baekhyun quietly asks.  When you don’t speak for more than thirty seconds, he cries loudly, “What did we do?!” and lunges forward, only to be held back by Chanyeol who’s also giving you the broken look in his eyes. He’s asking the same question.

“I like you,” Baekhyun blurts and Chanyeol still looks broken. “I really like you, _______, so don’t leave.”

“No, you don’t,” you hiss and take steps away. This is too much, too much for you. You snap up to look at Chanyeol and he’s just complacently holding Baekhyun in his arms and everything clicks together.

Everything. Makes. Sense.

“Baek…” you breathe. “I like you, too, but…we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he cries, once again struggling against Chanyeol’s embrace. “Don’t you dare avoid me again!” he screams, breaking out of his cage and runs up to hug you tightly. It’s painful, both emotionally and physically and you look over his shoulder to watch the darkened sky.

This is your sign that things aren’t going to work out.

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“So Yeol decided to dump the popcorn on the person’s head and leave because he was so pissed!” Baekhyun laughs and you just sit there and play with his fingers.

The three of you are at a New Year’s party, one of those clean ones without people swapping saliva and other substances behind closed doors and spiked drinks and girls in too short dresses and skirts or too small clothing that barely cover their cleavage. It’s quiet and peaceful with the calming tune of jazz in the back and the only drinks offered are soda, juice, and water.

Chanyeol just sits next to Baekhyun and listens to the encounter, only smiling as if he’s reliving the moment himself. You sneak a quick look at him and prepare yourself for what you’re going to do tonight. “You’re awfully quiet,” Baekhyun muses, stilling your fingers by clutching your hand. “I’m going to get some air, okay?” you ask, standing up to leave. He smiles that heart-clenching smile of his and turns to converse with Chanyeol about manly things.

You weave through couples that are slow dancing and sink in a bar stool in front of the counter.

How does he not realize it yet?

You won’t lie and say that you’re not hurt because deep down you are. Imagine if suddenly your boyfriend who you loved very much ended up loving a better person than you, a person with a better personality, a person who didn’t have such an aversion to sunlight. You’ve realized since that day on the roof and it hurts, it really does. But Chanyeol is your friend, too.

Chanyeol was the one who put up with Baekhyun grumbling about how you weren’t there when you disappeared for a month and a half. He missed you, too, he really did. He always liked seeing Baekhyun happy when you were there because he was happy. The three of you were the trio, the power three that didn’t really do a lot, but still did a lot even if they had to crawl through your window unannounced and drag you out of bed so you can soak up some Vitamin D.

“Baekhyun…” you mumble into your hand.

“You called me?”

You turn and he’s right behind you with his lips slightly curved and you grasp the blood-pumping organ to ease your nerves. “Don’t do that,” you playfully whine, smacking his arm lightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“But,” you warily start. “I wanted to say that…I think we should break up.”

You can feel his body stiffen and you continue.

“You say you like me, but have you ever realized how much time you spend with Yeol?”

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” you chuckle. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then what are you getting at?” Confusion laces through his voice and his arm falls from your shoulders.

“You talk about him, you spend time with him…I’m not him, Baek.”

You turn to see him and his gaze is frantic, switching from object to object and your hand painfully holds his cheek. “Can’t you see? You love him, not me.”

He grasps your hand and takes it away from his face to lightly swipe his lips across the back of your hand knuckles, squeezing before letting you place it in your lap. “I tried to tell myself that I was happy with you,” he whispers. “I knew you were happy with me and I want you to be happy, but I’m sorry I’m the selfish one in the end…”

“Don’t be sorry,” you smile softly. “We’ll still hang out and stuff. I won’t run away this time.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

He links his pinky through yours in a manner of promising that things won’t be any different except for the fact that Baekhyun actually loves Chanyeol and not you and if those two are happy, then nothing else really matters.

“How can you be so selfless?” he murmurs against your cheek as he tries to stop the guilt from ripping through his chest.

You chuckles and grab his hand before standing up and dragging him back to where Chanyeol sits with a zoned out expression. “Go,” you nudge him. “I’m gonna go, okay?” Baekhyun nods and squeezes your hand in a flurry of emotions like thanks and love. Your fingers can’t stop from lingering on his and you bid goodbye to the host of the party before high tailing it out of there and letting loose the tears that have been held up in your eyes.

“I can do this,” you quietly cry to yourself, stumbling on the sidewalk as you walk the two blocks home.  By the time you get home, you have three tissues in your hand, all given by some lady by a street vendor, and they’re all damp with your salty tears. You barely make out the sounds of fireworks and cheers from the rooms surrounding you in your apartment as you exhaustedly slip away into dreamland.

Because as long as those two are happy, even if your own heart is broken and irreparable, everything is okay. That’s how love works. You’ll always be there for them, support them when nobody else does, let them live with you if they ever get kicked out of their household because of their current relationship status.

You fall.