It was clearly impossible for Chansung to focus on the paper he was supposed to be writing, for his mind was on anything but economics at the moment. Tapping away at his desk, he sighed and finally pushed his glasses away to rub his face in utter annoyance. Every thought that sparked in his groggy mind ended up circling back to one stressful point that stuck out to him;

  What happened in that entire day that he had missed, and why couldn’t he remember?

  He had been black-out drunk before, but even for a night of heavy spirits and almost no food in his stomach, this was a bit much. In total, there were thirty-two hours currently unaccounted for, and that bothered him beyond consolation.

  “Dude, check this out.” A deep voice behind him said and Chansung was suddenly reminded that Taecyeon was in the room with him, lounging on his bed while ‘pretending’ to study. “It’s free cover for students.”

  Before he knew it, a cell phone screen was pushed in his face and he couldn’t help reading the flyer for an event at one of the campus venues that evening. One name on the list of performers caught his eye and he looked over the details more closely.

  Kim MinJun performing as D'Artagnan.

  He’d never gotten MinJun’s family name, but there was an undeniable coincidence that the ‘K’ in his stage name might stand for ‘Kim’.  “We have to go.” He said, quietly returning the phone to Taecyeon, who simply shrugged and stalked off to go do god knows what.

  Now that he was fully distracted, he saved his work and closed the tab, pulling up the internet browser and typing in the search engine. ‘Jun.K’.

  The second result was a facebook page, and without hesitation, he clicked it.

  Once the page was loaded, Chansung was met with a picture of a smiling man holding up a peace sign. The warm eyes staring back at him from the screen made him clench his jaw. It was him. The hair was different, and the sultry kind of smirk that Chansung had found so intoxicating was replaced with an alluringly warm smile, it was equally enticing. He tried to calm himself, but his body remembered every detail of the fateful encounter with that seductive stare as if that person was with him right at that very moment.

  “Who’s that?”

  Chansung was startled away from his own over pondering by Taecyeon suddenly looming over him. The big eared guy awaited an answer patiently, and Chansung looked around before shaking his head, trying to come up with one. “Just some guy I met on New Years.”

  “Speaking of New Years . . .” His best friend started off, sitting back on the bed and crossing his muscle bound arms. “What time did you get back to the dorm?”

  He tensed, wanting nothing to do with the conversation already. “I don’t know, Taec, I was pissed off that you guys left me stranded, so I chilled with this dude for a bit.” Chansung said, hoping it would be enough to divert the Giant’s attention to something else.

  It wasn’t.

  Taec grinned, and Chansung knew exactly what it meant, even before the slightly bigger guy spoke. “You sly devil~ You hooked up, didn’t ya’?”

  Ignoring the incredibly greasy way the other guy was harder than he sounded, especially when Taecyeon said a very sleazy sounding ‘noice’ as if were a compliment. “Ugh, you’re such a skeeze ball.”

  Just as Taecyeon started whatever rebuttal his intemperate mind could come up with, the door swung open with considerable force, halting their exchange of words as a disheveled figure came waltzing into the room, talking on a cell phone with absolutely no care to the two of them.

  “Look, I’m super tired and I just got back to my dorm, so I’ll call you later.” Wooyoung said into his phone in a honey-like voice. “I miss you already~”

  He didn’t notice that he was staring at the newcomer until Taecyeon casually nudged his foot with his own, and Chansung immediately looked away while Wooyoung finished his sickeningly sugar-coated conversation with whoever had momentarily caught the latter’s fancy.  The sound of that voice talking to someone so sweetly only reminded him of all the deceit, causing him to clench his fists.

  It didn’t matter how many times Chansung saw it, he never quite got used to this side of the petite boy that he once thought he had known so well.

  “Hey Channie~” That voice cooed at him and he looked up to see Wooyoung pulling a clean shirt over his body, smirking at Taecyeon. “Okcat, long time no see.”

  Taecyeon made a face that resembled both a wince and a smile, contempt painted all over his face as he mockingly replied in a whiney voice. “Heyyy~”

  Without another word, the blonde grabbed a jacket from the rack on the wall ‒ Chansung didn’t even bother complaining that it was his ‒ and went straight for the door. Why couldn’t he have just left it at that?

  “You’re going out?” Chansung asked before the door to their room was opened.

  “I’m meeting a friend.” It was breathtaking how spectacular Wooyoung was at lying. Almost like it was a game, those thin lips curved into a coquettish smile that would have been beautiful, had he not been captivated by it before. “See ya’.”

  And, like that, Wooyoung was gone just as quickly as he’d arrived.

  There was no mistaking the disgust in Taecyeon’s voice as he scoffed the second the door closed. “Don’t.” Chansung ordered his best friend before the older man could say anything. “Just . . . don’t.”

The theatre was noisy, enough to stir slightly his anxiety as he watched people gathering, slowly filling the auditorium with more and more bodies. Chansung sat on the aisle seat in the front row, next to him was Taecyeon, and in the next seat down was Nichkhun. He watched the two of them playing some game on Taecyeon’s cell phone, sitting way too close and he cringed at their overly exaggerated public display of affection.

  As far as annoying couples went, they took the cake.

  What was annoying is that neither of them was particularly flamboyant or out of the ordinary. At first glance, you didn’t realize that they were so sugary and fluffy until you spent enough time around them to notice the constant touching, the whispers, the lingering stares and softly bitten lips as they practically devoured each other. They were the pure embodiment of everything that Chansung had before, everything that ripped away from him, everything he tried to forget.

  “Chan, do you want anything from the concessions?” Nichkhun’s question pulled Chansung away from his own foul thoughts, leaning over his boyfriend to look at him. The guy looked at him with the same genuine smile as always, but Chansung merely shook his head. “Alright, I’ll be back, then.”

  After what felt like hours, when Nichkhun was long back and most of the seats were occupied, the lights suddenly dimmed, and a voice over the PA system announced the start of the production. An orchestra began playing and on the stage, two people seemed to dance effortlessly in a well practiced sword fight.

  He recognized one of them straight away, feeling his heart suddenly begin to pound in an unquellable excitement. The sound of that distinct voice enticed a burning kind of ardor in his heart, like fire, away at his soul until there was nothing left but tender passion; it was fanaticism. Brutally unyielding and irrational and he didn’t even want to stop it.

  Listening to MinJun sing was just as entrancing as before.

  All Chansung wanted was to hear that voice again, to feel those lips on his skin again, to touch him again. As if hearing his indecent desires, MinJun looked upon the crowd from the stage, for one fleeting, passive, moment they locked eyes.

  Those dark brown irises held such depth that he feared he would never find it elsewhere.

  Though, why would he even look?

  By the time the final curtain fell, Chansung ‒ and everyone else around him ‒ stood to clap in complete adoration.

  “That was pretty good.” Taecyeon said beside him, and Chansung was once again, dragged back into the ty reality that was his life.

  “Those guys can really sing,” Nichkhun chimed in with a kind smile. “It makes me want to join a theatre group!”

  “Let’s get some food, I’m starving.” Taecyeon said as he rubbed his belly and headed towards the exit, Nichkhun following unquestioningly. It was only when they noticed Chansung was still standing in front of his seat, staring at the now empty stage, that they stopped.

  “Chansung-ah!” Khun called out, concerned. “Are you coming?”

  He looked at the stage, where he could’ve sworn he saw MinJun peeking from behind the red fabric of the closed curtain, before looking back at Nichkhun. “You guys go ahead, I’ll meet up with you at campus.”

  With a wave, his friends had left him and Chansung was now standing in the empty theatre. After a while, he decided to wait outside.

  It was cold, snowy and the darkened sky was tinted with a sort of reddish hue from the city lights. He stood outside side entrance of the theatre, his hands in his pockets and his cheeks flushed from the freezing temperature outside. He’d considered going home, feeling his moment had passed and he’d missed his chance to catch the singer before he left.

  Disappointment filled him little by little, until a door opened behind him and he turned around just as a short guy came walking out, his bangs falling in his face and a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. “MinJun!” He called out, and the older man stopped.

  “Huh?” MinJun didn’t try to hide his confusion. “Do I know you?” The elder’s eyebrow rose and Chansung instantly felt stupid.

  “It’s me,” He tried to explain without sounding crazy. “Chansung . . . from New Years night.” When understanding failed to reach MinJun’s face, Chansung blushed madly, scratching the back of his head and looking down at the salt covered sidewalk under his feet. “Y-You don’t remember me . . . do you?”

  “I think you’re mistaken.” He felt a pit in his stomach when MinJun explained. “I didn’t even go out on New Years.”

  Chansung stepped closer, eyes begging and voice thick with the frustration that was building up. “We had in your apartment, you fell asleep in my arms, how could you not remember this?”

  “Don’t come near me!” The other man ordered, taking another step back with wide eyes, like a cornered animal ready to fight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, so please go away.”

  MinJun went to leave, glancing back at him as he hastily walked down the pavement, leaving Chansung standing in uneasy bewilderment.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

  When Junho huffed out at him, he had to direct his gaze towards the soft faced boy sitting across the table from him. Papers were scattered everywhere and several textbooks open in his attempt to go over all the classes Chansung had missed the day before. Looking at those deep brown eyes, he slouched in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Junho . . .”

  “No ‘Cupcake’ or ‘Honeybun’ today?” Junho sarcastically referred to two of the many nicknames Chansung would usually call the boy with small eyes and a round face that was now pouting.

  He couldn’t even try to fake it, not today. “I just haven’t felt all that great lately.”

  Junho’s demeanor changed drastically, replacing his feisty annoyance with honest concern. “Are you getting sick?” Junho placed the back of his hand across Chansung’s forehead, worrying his lip with his brow furrowed. “I told you to start wearing a hat and gloves, but you’re so stubborn!”

  He smirked.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” Junho complained, pulling his hand away, but Chansung caught it, holding it in his own palm.

  “Thank you for looking after me all the time.” He wished so badly that he could just return the feelings that Junho’s eyes wanted so badly to show. He wished it was that simple. But instead, it was stupid. Even when Chansung tried, he just didn’t feel anything for this perfect little angel, nothing but camaraderie.

  Junho’s eyes widened, and when Chansung finally let go of his hand, the smaller boy pulled his appendage back like he’d been burned. “You really aren’t feeling well.”

  Staring back at the smaller boy, Chansung gave him a sad smile before Junho looked away, closing his textbook and collecting the papers from the table. “We don’t have to study today . . . L-Let’s get something to eat instead.”

  “If that’s what you want, Babydoll.” He enjoyed the flushed cheeks on Junho’s face after calling him that.

  Was it wrong that he felt relieved that Junho still didn’t hate him?

  Probably.

  Was he going to stop?

  Unlikely.

  The place they stopped at was close to the campus and filled with students. It was a relatively small cafe but the line was tremendously long. As Junho went to find a table for the two of them, Chansung waited to order their food, then the girl in front of him was arguing with the person at the register, that’s when Chansung finally noticed that familiar mop of copper toned hair.

  “Listen, I can’t give you a refund just because you don’t like it.” MinJun explained, yet again, to the girl who was demanding her money back. “Menu clearly says what's inside the sandwich, you ordered it anyway.”

  “But I don’t like the way it was made!” The disgruntled woman huffed.

  “It was made exactly as it’s supposed to.”

  “Well can I get something else, then?”

  The frustration was evident on the cashier’s face, he gripped the screen of his register and covered his anger with a sinister looking half smile. “Again, I apologize, but that is against our store policy. I can’t just give you free food when there’s been nothing wrong with our product. You’re more than welcome to write a formal complaint to the store manager, please reference the number at the top of your receipt. Thank you for coming, I hope your next visit will be more satisfactory.”

  The girl snatched up her purse off the counter and turned away in a huff, nearly running into Chansung as she stormed out of the cafe.

  MinJun called the next person up, looking up to see Chansung. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” Much to his surprise, he was greeted with a cheeky smile that had his mind reeling with dumbfounded curiosity.