To say dinner was embarrassing would be the understatement of the eon. At best, the memory was vague. At its worst, the feeling would haunt me for the rest of my life and seven generations of my future offspring. Maybe this is a sign from the universe telling me that for the good of humanity I should’t procreate. Maybe this will be my legacy.

But no matter how emotionally scarred I may be, it will never amount to the trauma Mark must be going through. The end of the night had been awkward. After my family’s interrogation of our “relationship” and after clearing that it was not at all a relationship and he was just walking me home— to which we include the disclaimer that we just ran into each other and he lives just a few blocks down— dinner had focused on Jein and Hoya. At the end of the night, Mark thanked my parents and said goodbye. I couldn’t think of anything to say and I’m sure he had nothing more left to talk about either, so it was a wordless walk to the door. I haven’t seen or talked to him since that night, and I don’t blame him if he suddenly disappears from my life.

The same could not be said about Hoya.

“I’m her sister, get over it,” I say to him as we’re clearing up the charity booth. Aerin and Hwayoung were in front, closing operations and doing accounting. Hoya and I were stationed at the back, cleaning up. It’s been a whirlwind of a day, perfect as perfect could go, but also tiring I don’t know if I can last until midnight.

He’s still looking at me funny. I could tell he’s been meaning to talk about it all day but hasn’t mustered the proper words to express it until now. “You don’t look like your sister.”

“Sure, that totally explains why you never thought that the first time you met me. It’s not a big deal, don’t make it such a big deal. I’m the one who should be freaking out, since when were you dating my sister? How do you even know her?”

“Your sister stalks Sunggyu-hyung, of course I’d know her.”

I may have been peripherally aware that Hoya knew Kim Sunggyu, but not that they knew each other this well. Or anyway, that Hoya was within the circle of friends who would inadvertently interact with my crazy sister.

“If you knew she’s crazy, why are you dating her?”

This actually catches him off guard and he ends up opening and closing his mouth like a breathing fish. I may not have useful experience in relationships, but the question is valid.

But then Hoya says, “You just have to have the same kind of crazy, I guess.”

For, like, a second, I almost feel happy for my sister. But then I remember she’s my sister and try not to gag. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Mark one of your boy toys?”

This isn’t the change of topic I was hoping for. I don’t answer that question and focus on packing the remaining clothes into our boxes. We’re almost done for the day so arranging and rearranging the last few pieces of tops and skirts in the boxes was pointless, but that’s besides the point.

“I don’t know what Nari said, but it’s not like that.” I pass him a box.

“He was waiting for you by the shop.”

I pass him another box. “He wasn’t waiting for me by the shop.”

“He looked like he was waiting for you by the shop.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I know the look!”

And yet another box. “How do you know what that even looks like?”

“Because I’ve had my fair share of waiting and pretending I wasn’t waiting at all. And he walked you home, no guy without an agenda does that. Does Youngjae do that?”

“No, but—“

“See. I rest my case.”

I’ve run out of boxes so there’s nothing left to distract either of us from this conversation. Hoya looked too satisfied at having made a point I was nearing desperation just to prove him otherwise. There had to be something that could show him it wasn’t what he thought. Because as much as I liked Mark, I didn’t like what he was insinuating. And there was no way I could explain this without dragging Jackson’s name into the conversation. Or Kim Namjoon. Hoya didn’t know about Namjoon so there is no way I will be the one to provide this piece of information. Speaking of Namjoon, I totally forgot about replying to his messages that he called me the next day just to ask if I was angry at him because of The Princess Seokjin and Park Jimin. For the record, I wasn’t. It was just—

“See,” Hoya says, looking even more smug than ever. He gestures ahead.“I rest my case.”

Mark acknowledges me with a flick of his eyebrows.

Someone kill me now.

It’s still a mystery how I ended up walking with Mark to the beach for the music festival. I know we said we’d see each other there and all, but I always assumed he meant we’d run into each other maybe. I also was under the impression he doesn’t want to see me. That he never once did. That even after all this time, he was in my breathing space out of obligation to Jackson.

Now that Hoya brought it up, it became impossible for me not to think about it. Even as I convince myself to hold off until after tonight at least, Pandora’s Box had been opened and not even hope would be enough to undo what was inevitable.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay,” I answer, keeping my gaze on the road ahead. It isn’t that much further to the beach, three more blocks and we’d hit the sand. I just need to last that long before I can lose Mark in the crowd.

“You sure?”

No, but what’s the point? It’s not like there’s a solution to my as of yet unidentified problem. Oh, I know what the problem is. Vague, maybe, and a little over my head, but it’s still not making any sense because I don’t even know how I got into this situation. I remember the candy, I remember the scarf, I remember trying to fix that mess only to dig myself deeper into it. So, yes, I don’t really know the words to properly express what my problem is.

“You sure you’re not sick or anything?” Of all days to start talking, Mark does this now?

“Just a little tired.” That had Mark reacting like a sad little puppy and I didn’t even know he was capable of that. “I thought you said I’ll see you at the beach.”

“I did. Kind of, I think.” He shrugs. “It was on the way.”

That’s a valid explanation. “Did you get to see Jackson?”

“Kind of. He’s in some family thing that’s not really a family thing ‘cause he won the thing, right? So it’s really a business meeting pretending to be a victory party.”

“That’s…sad, actually. I didn’t know that’s what his life is like. Is that normal?”

“Sometimes. I mean, Jackson likes fencing, but sometimes I think he likes it because his parents like it, not because it’s what he wants to do. I don’t think he even knows what he wants.”

I had no idea, because it’s not like Jackson and I actually talk. We have conversations, but not like this. Not about things that matter after high school is done and over with. Now that I think about it, I know absolutely nothing about Jackson. Or Mark. Not really.

“But you know, Jackson, he’ll be fine. It’s hard imagining a scenario where he won’t make the universe do what he wants. You know? Whatever happens, he’ll be fine.”

Mark’s assurance means more than he thinks, but the guilt rising in my gut swirls one more time, reminding me of all the things that had happened thus far. Jackson might survive this. Namjoon will, no doubt. But will I?

Music emerges from the corner, bright and trance-like, filling the road with festivities just beyond our sight. As soon as our feet hit the sand, we’re transported to a world that is beyond the norms of every day living. Lights flashed and bounced in rainbow colors, matching the beat of the DJ on the stage set up at one end of the beach. I could only make out a visage of someone spinning on stage for now, what with the mosh pit moving like some super-organism writhing to the music. Across the open area were booths and stalls with colorful banners and streams of advertisements hanging on a wire.

Mark is as impressed as I am— or I think he’s impressed. He’s smiling that tiny just-for-himself smile as he looks around. “Not bad,” he says to me. “Hope I don’t lose you in this crowd.”

I would have said something to counter that statement, something that referenced the day we went to see Jackson’s exhibition game, but Namjoon appears in my line of sight, attention on his phone. He looks up, and his eyes travel between me and Mark. Then it’s just on me.

Mark steps forward in a protective stance, his arm coming up to shield me from Namjoon. “What’s he doing here.”

I couldn’t very well say Namjoon and the rest of Bangtan are here for Open Night because that would incriminate myself in case it wasn’t obvious. “It’s a music festival?”

“Why’s he still looking at us?”

Because I was supposed to meet them by their tent. I move Mark’s arm down to his side just in time for Namjoon to come towards us. "I have to deal with this, let’s talk later, okay?”

I grab Namjoon before he makes it anywhere near Mark and drag him back towards the direction he came from.

“Did you come here with that guy?” he asks, adjusting his arm so now it looks like I’m a clingy girlfriend. I let go and walk a respectable distance next to him. The look on his face is amused, on the verge of a laugh but I ignore it and move on.

“We walked through the entrance together. He said hi. I said hi back.”

“Is Jackson here?”

“I have no idea.”

“Have you, uh, talked to Jackson at all? Recently?”

“I haven’t seen him since…since school. Why are we talking about Jackson?”

“‘Cause we don’t talk about him. You don’t even mention him.”

“Because there’s nothing to say?”

“See! Yeah, that’s what I told Jin.”

I wish he said something else, because now I want to tell him the truth. We don’t talk about Jackson, because I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to talk about him because  looking at it now, Nari was right about me. It doesn’t matter what my reasons are, or what the circumstance had been then. I am a terrible person.

“Hey! You made it.” Even Seokjin looks happy to see me. “We were starting to think you got kidnapped or something.”

Hoseok and Yoongi beam at me from where they sat on the sand. Jimin and Taehyung arrive carrying a large cooler with ice and soda cans. It’s exactly the camping trip I would have had were Nari and Youngjae with me right now.

Crap. Youngjae. He’s going to be here with Jaebeom and Jinyoung and I should at least be decent enough to stop by and say hi before their showcase— a showcase I haven’t seen before today either because I couldn’t catch their rehearsal times.

I feel sick again.

“You okay?” I really wish Seokjin would just shut up now. I think I prefer him all evil and scheming and annoying than decent and human. It’s unnatural.

I feel all of Bangtan’s eyes on me and I stutter a response. “I just remembered Youngjae. He’ll be here and I should go see him and make sure he’s with people because you know Youngjae…”

Seokjin’s shoulders drop— I didn’t even realize they were tense. “Oh, that’s a relief. For a moment we thought you’re in trouble or something.” Then he smiles that smile that disarmed me that first time he and Namjoon cornered me by the school gates. “We’ll be here until it’s time for the showcase.”

Three girls join Bangtan on the sand. I remember Park Yurae and Song Sora from Catharsis, and Seon Yejin, another third year. When the whole debacle about me messing with Namjoon and Jackson at the same time came about, part of the story was me fighting against Yejin for the former. She’s a close friend of theirs, Namjoon’s especially, and though I haven’t seen much of her, I know she’s the one in constant presence with the guys when I’m not around.

“I should go find Youngjae,” I say before I’m forced to be friends with their friends. Their group was the exact kind that you didn’t even talk to unless you were on the same level of Cool Chick chic. I didn’t want to risk it.

I go before Namjoon gets to volunteer to come with me or even say anything remotely nice. The one event I looked forward to since the start of the year is becoming to be the one day I wish I never left my bed.

Youngjae’s last message said he was going to hang around the ADR tent with the other Unplugged kids to prepare for the showcase. Half a summer and Choi Youngjae is suddenly cool, hanging around indie producers and DJs and their proteges. OYE! is signed under ADR too. I wonder if Nari made it here. I wonder if she’s with Youngjae now.

I weave my way through the crowd, unable to fully enjoy the festivities. The smells would have been the best part. It’s the sea, and the sweet smell of dessert snacks, sugar cookies, cream treats, pastries, and the heavy smoky scent of savoury rice cakes and sausage rolls and just all that food. Popcorn wafts in the air, and combined with the music and the sound of fruit shakes being blended, it’s almost paradise. But all alone, it means nothing.

I find the ADR tent easily, but it’s surrounded by men I vaguely recognize as the regular talents at Catharsis. I know Chansung and Minjun from the Fourth Ave flower shop, there’s Taecyeon from School Cafeteria, and I know the back of Lee Junho’s head, and maybe that’s exactly why I take no step further.

Until somebody bumps into me.

“Sorry, coming through.”

I duck and nearly fall on my as Wooyoung passes by carrying two buckets of assorted beverages. Youngjae and the rest of the boys are probably doing what I’m doing: looking around. If that’s the case, what are the chances of coming across them in this crowd?

“Hey. I know you,” Minjun says, pushing down his sunglasses. It’s almost dark, but I don’t dare question his fashion choices.

“Hi. I’m looking for Youngjae. He’s with—“

“JB, yeah, Khun has a stall somewhere so they’re being forced into labor over there.”

I say my thanks and move on to the next portion of the Universe Making it Hard For Me. To be fair, I accept my punishment wholeheartedly. I just wish the ending would be a happy one instead of, you know, me crying all alone because no one wants to be friends with me anymore.

The line to the Khunfections stall goes all the way to the beachfront, but I take my liberties and go all the way behind the booth.

“Uhm. Hi?”

Jaebeom just scoffs jokingly at me. “Now you show up? Where were you?”

“I didn’t know where you guys were! You’re never at Khunfections when I’m there!”

Some girl in line gives me the evil eye but a smiley Jinyoung pacifies her with her order. “Youngjae says he doesn’t know where you are either,” Jinyoung adds.

“He knows exactly where I am all the time. He never returns my messages. What are you guys up to?”

Jaebeom grins. “Oh, you know, prepare to be mind blown! After this shift.”

“Have you seen Youngjae?”

“He went to see Nari,” Jinyoung answered. “Are you guys still fighting?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Everyone knows that.” Jaebeom packs a box of cupcakes and hands it to his next customer. “Well, sort of.” He’s kidding. I think.

“Wow. That’s nice to know.” I spy Nichkhun walking towards us. “Your boss is here so I’m gonna go before he makes me work for him, too. I’ll see you guys at the showcase.”

I ignore the missed calls and dial Youngjae’s phone, but he’s not picking up. I walk around some more, somehow, somewhere, I get a flyer for the night’s schedule. Namjoon has decided to actually officially call themselves Bangtan after that silly nickname scattered across the school information system. Jaebeom and Jinyoung are JJ project. Yugyeom and Youngjae aren’t in this showcase yet, but they did help with the making of the track they’re using for tonight.

It suddenly dawns on me just how much I missed out.

Hands on my shoulders startle me, just enough to slap Youngjae’s arm. “Where have you been! You keep answering my messages three days late! What’s wrong with you!”

Youngjae laughs. “Sorry! Been really busy!”

I slap his other arm. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” More accurately, four weeks, but that’s besides the point. I say hi to Yugyeom, too. Less violently.

We start walking. “You’re still coming to my recital, right?”

“Yeah.” Even if he ditched True Beauty’s Charity Sale. But I’ll forgive him for that. Even if he absolutely forgot about it. “I’ll be there.” Now to ask about Nari. “So, uh…”

“Nari was asking about you,” he said. “And if you’re gonna ask about her too, just talk to her already. I said that to her too so don’t go telling me that she should make the first move because you know she never will. Just talk to her.”

I ignore Yugyeom’s laughing. “I wasn’t gonna ask about her…”

“She’s with a dude.”

“What kind of dude?” I check with Yugyeom for confirmation.

“Like a dude-dude. Holding hands with the dude kind of dude.”

“When did that happen?”

“Ask her that when you make up with her.”

That bit is still up for debate, but if I see her somewhere by the OYE! tent, I just might attempt a hello. Or maybe I’ll just see if this dude really does exist. My sister would know where to find the band, but I wasn’t about to ask her about that. And speaking of dudes, “Did you know my sister is dating Hoya?”

“What? As in True Beauty Hoya who hates your guts?”

“He doesn’t hate my guts, but yes that Hoya.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.”

Yugyeom buys some cotton candy, and while he shares that with Youngjae, I pretend to scope the rest of the festival when really I’m just making sure Mark and Namjoon or anyone related to them aren’t anywhere near me.

“Just talk to her,” Youngjae says, tearing off a piece of pink sugar floss. “She misses you, you know.”

“I left her messages, and she never got back to me. So, I don’t know. If she misses me, why doesn’t she just message me back.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” Yugyeom says, “Girls are always making things harder than they are. Why can’t you just do it like guys and punch each other and then be okay afterwards.”

“I…that…uh...” I don’t know what to say anymore so I just shut up and keep walking.

Somewhere by the beach, we start hearing OYE!’s music. Youngjae points out Nari and her dude by the OYE! tent. She looks happy, holding hands with her guy. I can’t tell if he’s having fun because he looks like he’s about to fall asleep, but he keeps stealing glances at her so I guess that’s a good sign.

“Nari!” Youngjae runs up to her and points to me. Then he calls out my name and asks me to come over. I would have stayed put but Yugyeom starts pushing me forward.

This is the first time in a long while that we’re seeing each other since the break started. Even before that we’ve been awkward. Right now I’m just crushing the urge to hug her. But I don’t look away and attempt a smile.

Slowly, Nari’s hand comes up for an awkward wave, but before I could return it, Jackson Wang steps right in the middle, grinning like an idiot. I look behind him, but he blocks my view as he comes closer to me.

“I was looking for you, you weren’t answering my calls.”

“What are you doing here?” I look over his shoulder and Nari just looks back, just as surprised as I am.

“I knew you’d be here, I wanted to surprise you. Had to escape a family dinner, but whatever.” Jackson focuses on something behind me, then his expression darkens and he says, “What are you doing here?”

I look behind me, and there’s Namjoon and Seokjin walking towards us.

“Is this guy giving you trouble?” Namjoon asks.

I don’t get to answer because Jackson speaks first. “Me? You’re the one causing trouble here!”

I’m suddenly trapped between Jackson and Namjoon, and when I turn to Nari and Youngjae for help, she just rolls her eyes to herself. My sister appears from behind them and asks Youngjae what’s going on. I vaguely hear her say the words Mark and boyfriend, and Nari’s reaction says it all.

Jackson pushes Namjoon first. “Just leave my girl alone!”

Namjoon shoves him back, “She’s not your girl!”

I step closer to them, “Stop it, you two!”

Yugyeom tries to intervene, “You guys should, like, chill for a sec,” he says, but Seokjin takes his arm and holds him back. “You don’t want to be in the middle of that,” Seokjin says to him.

Jackson grabs Namjoon by the collar of his shirt and Namjoon returns the gesture. A small crowd gathers around us, but no one’s volunteering to be the one to stop the fight. They start pushing and shoving and I reach forward to stop them, and that’s how I end up on the sand.

“See! Look what you did!” Jackson manages to free himself with one more push.

“You did that!” Namjoon walks towards me but Jackson holds him back.

I’m about to scream when someone takes my hand, pulls me up, and drags me away from the fight.