Dangerous - Medusa II.

Finding friends is a difficult task – especially when you're me. Having no social skills is a huge burden in the process of making conversation. That's probably the reason why I'm stuck with-

"Look at how many fries fit in my nose!" Chen cackles, making it rain fries out of his nose. 
I don't even know what to call those people. Tumour would probably be the most fitting term, but I'll leave diagnoses to doctors.

Sighing, I try to recall the events of the past days without getting the urge to commit suicide.

And I fail.

Even though I swore to myself that I'll get the female species to befriend me, I spend my time running around helplessly, trying to figure out how to approach someone.

The fact that in the one year I've spend going to college I've roughly only talked to three females doesn't make it better either. So my only hope has been getting to know those three better.

Until I fail.

The first girl I know is the one in my English class, Krystal. She's intimidatingly pretty and has that cold aura of a popular girl. We could actually get along pretty well – she's a native English speaker and I'm nearly as fluent as her. But in the end her looks make me turn into a stuttering... Well, into something as productive as a pebble.

My second chance would have been that funky looking girl in my Economics class, Luna. She's Lay's weed dealers girlfriend, which makes her into something equivalent to a far relative for us. She's awfully nice, cool and funny. Sadly she's too busy hooking up with her boyfriend in every god damn auditorium ever built. I must now have barged in like three times already while they were doing the do. I don't ing know why I got the talent to interrupt everyone's private time. Maybe I'm a magnet. A magnet poled to s of people that don't interest me. That would explain the Luhan incident some days ago, and , his is still stuck in my head like a ing 18cm long arrow.

My last option had been Liu Amber, who sits next to me in Psychology. We sometimes talk; she's like a cheerful and tomboyish version of myself. Too bad, that her boyfriend/brother/friend/I-don’t-even-know, Lau Henry, always interrupts when I'm about to get the chance to hang out with her – and that guy is creepy. A voice you could instantly fall in love with and a bright and funny personality – until it comes to me. Fake Chinese his eyes say in disgust, pulling Amber away from me and judging my group of friends at every encounter. I can't really blame him, though. My "gang" makes Chinese people look stupid in an already racist country like Korea.

Of course he hates us. 

ing Luhan, root of all evil.

So that's why I'm stuffing almost all my belongings in various pink bags without telling anyone anything about my little... Departure.

Not even Luhan.

Especially not Luhan.

Not the guy who is to blame for everything awful that has ever happened to the world. Well, besides World War II. But one shouldn't count the chicken before they're hatched, right? Only god, no, SHINee knows what that guy's capable of. I mean, he used to throw sand in the same dongsaeng's pants everyday back then when we where in middle school. Actions like these speak for themselves.

I sigh as I come back to reality, looking at my packed bags. There's only one thing between the books and pencils I've left on my desk: The small note Luhan has shoved in under my pillow yesterday while I was sleeping. I swear, this guy moves like an elf, and I don't mean the fandom.

hello beautiful!! its me, chanyeol!! ☆☆☆ i will be at baekhyuns party next week. great, right???? that handsome guy you hang out with, i think his name was luhan, will be there to back you up so you can hit on me!! i will wait for you ~~ is written on it in Luhan's handwriting.

I'm not sure if he expects me to be that stupid or if he thinks I'm desperate enough to ignore that he hasn't even tried being authentic.

He's probably just retarded. That's the most realistic explaination. 

One whole hour of yelling at the imaginary Luhan in my head and riding a smelly train to my flat later, I'm ready to fall asleep right at my doormat. It's been an exhausting year of college and I would give anything for a twenty hour nap. So I collect my last strength to open the door and fall on my bed, still fully dressed.

The next morning, my supposed-to-be twenty hour nap unfortunately ends after six hours of tossing in my bed, having weird dreams of Park Chanyeol eating ice cream suggestively. It's pretty certain that I've watched SHINee's Basking Robbins commercial often enough to my mind up entirely.

In the end I'm not sure if I'm sad or relieved that I wake up right before Park Chanyeol was about the smear vanilla ice cream at his exposed chest (damn, Onew should have done that in the commercial.) because of weird sounds of yelling in the yard.

" this..." I mumble, tired eyes making everything blurry. I try to get up as the voices get louder.

I catch words like " education" and "i don't have any dreams", and suddenly I exactly know who was ending my sleep. 

"Oh god... Not this again..."

Not even bothering to fix my hair or making myself look like a human being, I limp down the stairway to get out of the apartment complex and beat up the asses of those retarded prepubescent teenage boys and shove their ing ghetto blaster down their ing throats to ing-

"I wanna big house, big cars and big ringz!"

That's it.

They're going to die.

Nobody should be allowed to the English language that hard without wearing a .

"Get off my lawn you hooligans!" I yell like the grandpa I am, throwing my heels at them – hitting one of them at the head in the middle of their little dancing performance.

Seven boys look at me, horrified, all dressed in black baggy clothes.

The Bangtans.

Oh, how I hate this pile of HBA wearing trash.

The leader of the group of high school wannabe rebels, who I knocked out with my pastel blue Mary Jane, stands up slowly - his gaze piercing. 

"It's been a while," he says dramatically, and in a voice that sounds far too mature for a high schooler.

I snort.

"It's been a while since I've last beaten you punks up. Don't ever interrupt my sleep again with your whatever this is."

"IT'S HIP HOP!" Another Bangtan screams at me. I'm not sure what his name was, but he wears a big necklace saying "HOPE". I suddenly remember him to be the boy Luhan bullied in middle school all the time – the one with the sand pants.

Pretty ironic that he's the one coming up with hope and .

I really want to be mean to him, but he's mindblowingly cute, looking like the human version of sunray and rainbows.

Good thing that the leader now starts to babble some in English about how spiritual hip hop music is.

"Oh, wow. Well, excuse me B.A.P, but regular people want to sleep now. Shut the up or I will call the police."

"Do you think the police can stop us? That we're marionettes of the system? Everybody say no!"

And before I can say anything else, they start another "choreography". I count three seconds until one of them messes up and makes the whole dance fall apart.
I hate high schoolers.

I end up in this small bubble tea shop Luhan talked about recently, to escape the teenage boys in my yard. It's the only place I remember not to be in the centre of Seoul; because heck, I'm pretty sure Luhan has now already called every police man in Korea to search for me because I didn't answer his ing 106 calls last night.

I'm not even kidding. 106. 

Sighing, I make my way to the counter.

I must look like a total idiot or a homeless with my unkempt hair and knittery clothes, but at least I'm going to get bubble tea now. It's not like I'm going to meet someone here, anyway.

Or so I thought. 

There he is, appearing out of nowhere – the most handsome bubble tea shop assistant guy - or whatever his job might be - I've ever seen.

"Can I help you?" The boy asks me, his high voice full of boredom.

He's tall and extremely skinny, his facial structure unbelievably attractive.

Shouldn't guys like this be idols?

He could be the apathetic sixth member of SHINee nobody really likes because he's always involved in scandals. I can already see the headlines.

"Hot guy #6 seen with prostitude". "Hot guy #6 drug scandal". "Hot guy #6, member of shining idol group SHINee, said he hates puppies and thinks Kim Jonghyun is short and sounds like an emotional whale."

Scandalous.

"Uhm, yes" I answer, desperately trying to keep my face from twitching. I have this syndrome when my face totally runs crazy as soon as I see an attractive person. It's called stupidity and thirst. Not a good combination. "One... Uhm. Black Coconut tea. Vanilla bubbles." 

The boy only nods, making his straight black bangs bounce.

Jet black hair, face like an idol, really really tall... It's like having another Park Chanyeol in front of me. A really-handsome-but-more-mature-and-less-cute-which-means-he's-not-really-my-type-because-I-love-cute--like-Park-Chanyeol-but-he's-still-ing-hot, high voiced robot version of Park Chanyeol.

He even moves as lifeless as a robot. Robots at least try to be nice.

Such a contrast to Park Chanyeol, but still... 

Am I making things up? I swear, there's something similar about them...

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

It's impossible, I'm just lonely. I'm lonely and and desperate. That must be it. It's always the answer.

And just as I'm about to accept this thought, the boy hands me a delicious looking bubble tea.

Not even five seconds later, on the way to a seat, I realize there's something written on the plastic cup.

Something besides "black, coconut". 

Numbers.

A telephone number and a name.

I turn around to look up at the robot boy in disbelieve – his apathetic features form into a sheepish smile.

"You're cute" he states nonchalantly. "We should go out."

Is he... Is a guy hitting on me?

Is this the magic of spring break?

Someone wake me up, this is weird as .

I wait for another plot twist for several seconds, before speaking up, my voice all hoarse.

"Am I getting this right... You're hitting on me?"

The robot – I look at the cup to read the name he wrote on it – no, Sehun, grins even brighter. Now he reminds me even more of Park Chanyeol, even though their features are so different.

That's right. Park Chanyeol.

I can't cheat on my husband. Game over before it even started.

"I'm... Why?" I must not only look surprised but also incredibly horrified, 'cause heck, that's how I feel. "I got woken up by a bunch of high school brats rapping in front of my window, my hair looks like and you are seriously-"

"Wait" Sehun interrupts me. The monotone, dull black eyes get big, surprised and… worried? "Did you say... Rapping high schoolers? You mean The Bangtans?"

What the frickedy frack? 

Is he a fan? Are those guys popular nowadays?

I should really try to go out more. 

"You know those brats?"

"They actually… are my classmates" he deadpans.

Silence.

This guy... This guy is a high schooler?! 

I scream out in horror, dropping my bubble tea. The plastic doesn't survive this and the floor gets painted by sticky white liquid.

But not the good kind.

"Y-y-you... How old are you?" I ask, hands in front of my mouth, muffling my words. I'm surprised he can hear me.

"Sixteen." Sehun grins evily; does he enjoy this? "What's wrong, noona?" 

Oh… oh god.

Noona.

This… oh… god… 

I can't take this. I will fade any minute. I will fall inside this puddle of white liquid in front of this guy and if customers enter the shop it'll look really gross. 

Please, I beg my weak fangirl heart, don't let this happen.

Sehun looks down at me, his smile sadistic as hell.

I take everything back. This boy isn't like Park Chanyeol. He's a cocky little brat and how the heck is this y er supposed to be sixteen ing years old? Am I e now? My phase is over, god damn it!

I'm officially done with the world. I'm going to be a nun from now on.

Bye, SHINee. Yo, Jesus.

"Uhm, I'm sorry. I... I already have a boyfriend."

I'm usually a good liar, I swear. It's because of the situation I so hard that my voice trembles. It's not my fault Sehun only laughs at my weak excuse.

"Well, what's your boyfriends name then?"

"C-chanyeol!" blurt out without thinking. "Park Chanyeol!"

The next moment is like a punch in the guts - Sehun only takes two seconds to wrinkle his nose and say the words that make me scream internally.

"You're my brother's girlfriend?"

I have to admit, as much as The Bangtans annoy me, there's one line of one of their songs that's stuck in my head.

You're in danger.

"Oh! Did I say Park Chanyeol? I meant Kim Minseok! That's my boi. We are in love." Here it goes, uncontrolled blabbering pt. 2. "You know, we kiss and do couple-y stuff. That's me and my little... Minseokie." I cough.

Sehun raises a brow. "I'm pretty sure you said Park Chanyeol. That's my brother's name."

"Park Chanyeol? Oh, yeah. That's my boyfriends nickname." I laugh hysterically.

Seriously, how did I even manage to get into college? High school? Elementary school? No one ing knows.

"Your boyfriend's nickname is Park Chanyeol?" 

If it wasn't me to be in such a situation, I would laugh at Sehun's disturbed expression.

"Yeah. It's because... He's... He's such a... such a Park Chanyeol. You know." I swallow violently.

My throat hurts from talking .

Well done. Once in a lifetime a hot guy talks to you and calls you ing noona, and you mess it up by being yourself.
"Is that so?" Sehun suddenly starts to grin – I could swear that there are satanic flames in his eyes – and bends over the counter until our noses almost touch.

"Let's make a deal" he whispers and I know I'm ed.

Yes, this guy is dangerous. 

so sorry for the long wait. my mobile phone broke and yep, my laptop soon after. i had to write this on my brother's computer. ugh, i hope it's not too bad. tell me if you liked it!