"Don't forget that your projects are due in tomorrow," Mr. Yang shouted, as we file out of his room.

 

I turned to Jiyong, panicked. "We're doomed."

 

He nodded, agreeing. Thanks for that, Jiyong.

 

"How far do you think we are from finishing?" I asked.

 

He let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair, giving it a somewhat disheveled look. "We still have a couple of extracts to analyze, and then we have to decide who's saying what for our presentation in front of the class. It's going to take a few hours, perhaps all night."

 

"Work on it at your house?"

 

He opened the door for me, and we slipped inside the Music room. "It'll have to be," he responded, "Mom's 'looking' for a job, so I don't know when she'll be back." Jiyong used his fingers for quotation marks when he said "looking" in regards to his Mom's job searching, as she tended to come back home from these expeditions either drunk or tipsy.

 

"Hey guys," Bom chirped. She's unpacking her violin from beside Daesung, who's struggling to change a broken cello string. He waved at us, distracted by the difficult task at hand. Seunghyun was sitting down with his viola in hand, ready to play. When Jae spotted me from his position beside the piano, he smiled broadly and walked over towards me, sweeping me into a tight hug, rocking us from side to side.

 

"Hey," I laughed, wondering what has put him in such high spirits. "What's made you so happy?"

 

"Jae has some good news," Daesung explained, "he's been on cloud nine all day."

 

I frowned as Jiyong grunted and walked off to unpack his violin. I patted Jae on the back and gently disentangled myself from his arms.

 

"You'll never guess what," Jae enthused, jumping up and down with uncontained vigor, "the doctor's think I can have my cast removed next week!"

 

I found myself smiling as well, matching his excitement. "That's great!"

 

"I'll be able to play the violin with you guys again. Jiyong won't have to cover for me anymore."

 

The smile's gone from my face now, a frown in its place.

 

Jae noticed my change in mood and raised an eyebrow, worried. "That's a good thing, right?"

 

"Of course," I said, forcing a smile onto my lips again. "It's really good. I know how much you've missed playing."

 

He's seemingly satisfied with my answer, and kissed me on the cheek. "Everything's going to go back to normal again," he said.

 

I nodded slowly, hoping my façade of excitement is still convincing.

 

I felt eyes on me and looked up, only to find Jiyong staring straight at me. For a fleeting moment I noticed the infinitesimal widening of his eyes, and can see the despondency in them. He caught himself, however, and schooled his expression, the impassive mask returning.

 

Daesung plucked a few dulcet notes and shouted, "So, what are we playing today?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

After practice, Jiyong and I walked to my car in silence. It's as if an itchy blanket had surrounded us, it's suffocating and uncomfortable and I wanted it gone. But what can I say? When Jiyong had joined our group we'd both known that it was only temporary until Jae's hand healed. But over these last couple of months I'd dispelled the thought of him not being our first violin, of us not playing together for hours after classes, and I'd also forgotten how little time we'd then be spending together. We still have class, yes, but it won't be the same, especially since our time together will be further cut as our project will be reaching its conclusion tonight. There will no longer be a reason for us to spend so much time together and, for whatever reason, that really bothers me.

 

"I think," I said, turning to Jiyong, "that I might miss you…just a little bit."

 

He regarded me with amusement dancing in his eyes, a grin stretching his mouth upwards.

 

"That's because I'm such a wonderful person," he said, grinning.

 

I rolled my eyes. "Conceited much?"

 

He chuckled briefly before saying, "I'm not going anywhere, y'know."

 

I shrugged, unlocking the car and sliding inside. I clicked my seatbelt in place. "I know, but no project and no quintet practice. We'll only see each other in class." I paused. "Actually, that'd be a good thing, because maybe I'll be able to retain my sanity a little longer by not associating myself with you so much."

 

He gave a short laugh, seemingly lighter now, and a little less closed off. "Oh Santokki, I assure you it's the other way around. I'm perfectly sane, unlike some."

 

I rolled my eyes, mumbling, "yeah right."

 

He laughed again and looked at me intensely. Warmth flares in his eyes, and he's still wearing a smile. "We'll still see each other a lot," he promised, "we're still studying Chaucer, and I know how much some of those words confuse you. But, what with me being incredibly intelligent and a model student and everything, I will be willing to help you out whenever you require my expertise."

 

I rolled my eyes again. He's just so full of himself and arrogant and infuriating and…

 

"As I said," I said, "seeing less of you is probably a good thing."

 

He's about to respond, but I interrupted, changing the topic. "How's Seungri? Is he still being a moody teenager?"

 

"Worse," he grumbled, "he's always trying to pick fights with me at home now, slamming doors and playing his music as loud as it can go. I just hope he grows out of it soon. He's fifteen now, so how long do you think I've got?"

 

I shrugged, concentrating on the road. "Maybe a year? Maybe two? Three tops."

 

"Gee, thanks for that."

 

I smiled. "Pleasure." I rounded a corner and the smile slipped from my face. "Maybe Seungri isn't coping so well with everything's that's gone on," I suggested, trying to be tactful. "He's lost his sight, his Gran died not long ago, and then your dad left and your mom's now drinking all the time. It's going to be hard for him."

 

Jiyong's silent for a moment, eventually responding with a quiet, "I know. It's hard for them all, especially him, because he knows how bad everything's gotten. Dami and Deukkie don't know the extent of Mom's drinking. They know she drinks a bit too much sometimes, but they've very rarely seen her drunk, I don't let them." He took a deep breath. "Seungri and I have argued about Mom's drinking a lot. Mom started drinking excessively after Gran died, the problem gradually getting worse until she'd stay out all night, retuning the next morning."

 

He cut off for a while. I didn't interrupt him, knowing there's more he has yet to tell me. "Dad was having an affair. I'm sure Mom knew about it, and I'm sure that was just another cause for her drinking. He'd come home from work later and later every night, sometimes not even bothering to return until the next morning. I confronted him about it and he confessed." Jiyong barked out a short, bitter laugh. "He didn't have much of a choice really. I'd answered his phone when his mistress rung and, believing I was my dad, she asked me what time I'd be around and whether I'd be staying the night."

 

I reached an amber light at the cross roads, slowing the car down, and reached my hand across, grasping Jiyong's hand in mine, giving it a small squeeze. He squeezed back and I relinquished my grip, placing both hands back on the steering wheel.

 

Jiyong continued, "I told him he should just leave if he wanted to be somewhere else, because he was doing us no good anyway. He'd tried to get mom to stop, but they'd only end up arguing with each other, much like mom and I do now." He in a breath. "I didn't think he'd actually leave, but… next day, there was just the letter of sorry and the promise to send us money."

 

We're outside his house now but neither one of use moved. Why didn't you tell me all of this sooner, Jiyong?

 

I remembered Dami and Deukkie are at a neighbour's right now. It had been arranged that they stay there until Jiyong got back from today's extended practice. We're playing at a wedding soon, and so had felt the need for an extended rehearsal.

 

I turned to Jiyong slowly, only to find him looking out the window and then towards the floor, anywhere but at me. He can feel my eyes on him, I'm sure, but he refuses to meet my gaze.

 

In a quiet voice he said: "Mom's drinking's got worse after Dad left. Seungri says it's my fault he left in the first place. I think he's right."

 

"No," I said insistently. Jiyong still refused to look at me, so I slipped my fingers under his chin and forcefully pull his head up. He's surprised at my actions, but that's all I can ascertain when he wears that impassive mask. "It's not your fault," I said, "so don't ever think that, okay? It was your dad's choice. It was his fault, not yours."

 

He averted his eyes from mine, mumbling, "He left because I told him to."

 

I brought his face closer to mine, wanting him to look at me, wanting him to understand. "He left because he wanted to. You can't blame yourself for this."

 

He sighed, despondent, and a lock of blonde hair flopped in front of his face. I didn't know why I did it, I obviously wasn't thinking coherently, because I brushed the lock back, resting my palm against the side of his face. He blinked, and a renegade tear escaped. I wiped it away quickly with my thumb.

 

"This is not your fault," I reiterated, cupping his face between both of my hands. He leaned into my touch, warmth flaring in his eyes again. "Do you understand? You've kept your family together, and you've done a great job. You've been amazing, you're…" I caught myself quickly, surprised at the rush of words that had escaped my lips. My cheeks felt hot and flushed.

 

"You're blushing," Jiyong whispered.

 

My eyes focused on his lips. They're quirked upwards in his characteristic half-smile. He leaned forward, tilting his head, and my eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. His lips reached mine then, soft and warm, gently moving against my own. My arms involuntarily s themselves around his neck, bringing him closer, while his hand found its way into my hair. All other thoughts and worries flitted from my mind, all save Jiyong, and the feel of his lips against mine.

 

I don't know how long we kiss, but he pulled away suddenly, a goofy grin playing on his lips. I didn't move, wondering what the hell had just happened. He noticed my look of confusion, and worry collected in his eyes, a frown just lining his forehead.

 

I heard it before I saw it, and it grabbed my attention: a splatter of raindrops smacking against my windshield. A navy blanket has superseded the day's bright blue sky, the sporadic drifts of dark clouds rendering the sky synergistically darker. More drops accompany the first, and it's a consistent downpour, blurring the world outside my window.

 

I didn't look at Jiyong's face, afraid of what I might see, afraid of what I might do or say. I'm confused. I'd kissed Jiyong. I'd cheated on Jae. I don't know anything anymore.

 

"I need to get Dami and Deukkie," Jiyong stated, his voice level and even, no emotion discernible. I nodded my head. "Will I see you inside the house?" He didn't think I'll stay; he thought I'll leave and go home. I wanted to, just so that I can sort through the cascade of thoughts jumbling through my mind, but I can't. We still have our project to complete and I'm not willing to jeopardize both our grades like that.

 

"I'm staying," I said, turning to him, giving him a small smile.

 

He's wearing the mask so I can't fathom his thoughts or feelings. Had I hurt him that bad by not saying anything after the kiss?

 

Jiyong said, "Seungri should be inside the house. He'll let you in."

 

I nodded, both of us getting out of the car, dashing towards our intended destinations.

 

I knocked on the door, dripping wet, expecting Seungri to answer and soon, but no one comes to the door. I shouted through the letterbox: "Seungri? It's Dara. Can you let me in? Jiyong's just gone to pick the kids up." There's no answer from inside, and I can't hear any movement. I knocked on the door, again and again, and I'm still calling his name when Jiyong and the kids came back.

 

"Isn't he answering?" Jiyong asked.

 

I shook my head: no.

 

He tried the handle: no luck, I'd tried that already. Jiyong frowned and got out his key.

 

Dami asked, "Why isn't Seungri oppa answering?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Maybe he's taking a nap," Deukkie suggested, "so that's why he hasn't heard us."

 

"Perhaps," Jiyong said, with little conviction, unlocking the door.

 

When we're all inside, Jiyong shouted, "Seungri? Seungri are you up there?" He ran upstairs, soon coming back down shaking his head. While we dry off, Jiyong got out his phone, checking for messages.

 

"Anything?" I asked.

 

He imperceptibly shook his head, going over to the home phone to check for missed calls there. There's nothing: no new messages. A knot of apprehension twisted inside my stomach. Where is he?

 

Frowning, Jiyong dialed Seungri's number, putting it to his ear. It rang and rang and rang, but he doesn't pick up. After several attempts, Jiyong left a message, asking Seungri to call him back straight away because he's worried and it's getting late and he should be home by now.

 

I rested my hand on his shoulder but he just shirked it off. I hid my face then, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. I supposed it's just really… I had, after all, hurt him by not speaking after our kiss.

 

I glanced at the clock above the fireplace: 7:10. Seungri should have been home over three hours ago.

 

"Where's Seungri?" Dami asked again. "Why isn't he here?"

 

I crouched down low, my eyes level with hers. "I don't know, Dami. We're just trying to find out where he is, okay?"

 

She nodded, grabbing her angel bear, Celeste,a gift Jiyong had given her for her birthday. I have yet to see her parted from it. She sat beside Deukkie on the settee, watching cartoons.

 

Jiyong began opening and shutting desk drawers. Eventually he stopped, digging out an address book. He found his desired page and dialed a number. It rang and rang but like with Seungri, no one picked up. He flipped through the address book again, slamming it down in frustration when he didn't find what he wanted. Deukkie and Dami's eyes snaped towards us. Their faces are tinged with worry: their eyebrows drawn down, looking forlorn.

 

Not wanting to upset them anymore, I gently pushed Jiyong into the kitchen. Strangely, he complied, and looked at me, panicked. The mask is gone now, and I can see everything: the worry, the concern, the… love. Jiyong is 18, just barely an adult, and yet he's been tasked with the responsibility of a whole family, trying to keep them together. Adversity is a frequent visitor in his life right now: this is just another problem, but hopefully one that can be resolved soon.

 

"I've tried calling one of Seungri's friends," Jiyong explained, "but no one's picking up. I can't find any of his other friends' numbers in the address book."

 

I nodded, the knot inside my stomach tightening. "Okay," I said, "we're going to find him. He's most likely at a friend's house. Do you know where any of them live?"

 

"Only one," he said.

 

"Why don't you take my car and drive over there?" I said. "While I stay here with the kids."

 

He shook his head furiously. "I can't drive, Dara. I haven't even had a driving lesson before."

 

"Can you leave the kids with someone?"

 

He thought about it for a moment. "I could ask the neighbor they've just come from."

 

I nodded. "Good. Get them to look after Dami and Deukkie, and I'll drive you over there, okay?"

 

He nodded, and left the room, went to ring his neighbor.

 

It's 7:45 by the time Jiyong got off the phone. "She's going to come around and stay with the kids," Jiyong explained, grabbing his coat. "She should be here any minute."

 

He turned to the Dami and Deukkie then, forcing a smile onto his lips. "Hey, guys," he said, sitting beside them on the settee. "I've got to go out with Dara for a bit, okay?"

 

"To bring Seungri home, right?" Deukkie asked.

 

"Yeah, exactly. So Miss Mannis going to come and stay with you, okay?"

 

They both nodded, and gave Jiyong a quick hug.

 

There's a knock at the door and they all jumped apart. Jiyong dashed to the door, struggling to unlock the door quick enough. The despondency in his voice is only too evident when he greeted, "Hey Miss Mann, thanks so much for coming last minute."

 

"It's okay," she responded, "is your mom working late again tonight?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"I've never met such a committed woman. Have you let her know about Seungri's absence?"

 

"Haven't got through to her yet, but I'll try again later."

 

"Okay, I'm sure it's nothing. He's most probably at a friend's house and his phone's flat. I hope you find him soon."

 

"Me too."

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

The sky's a black canvas now, with no stars discernible as rain clouds still drift overhead, unleashing torrents of rain that smack against my windshield.

 

Jiyong's beside me in the passenger seat, squinting through the rain, trying to make out the street names. He pulled the window down and tells me to stop. He shouted, "Junho, is that you?"

 

A figure paused mid-sprint on the pavement, his head snapping towards us. He paused for a second, wiping rain from out of his eyes, slicking back his sopping red hairfrom his face. He jogged over to us, frowning. "Jiyong?"

 

"Have you seen Seungri?" Jiyong asked, straight off.

 

"No," Andy answered, frowning. "Hasn't he come home?"

 

"No, he hasn't. Would he maybe be at Thunder or Chansung’shouse?"

 

He shook his head. "Don't think so. Thunder's at a family reunion, and Chansungleft to go skiing with his family yesterday."

 

Jiyong cursed quietly under his breath. I leaned forward, towards Jiyong's window and asked, "Do you have any idea as to where he might be?"

 

Junhobegan shaking his head, stopping suddenly, a fleeting look of panic crossing his features. "Uhm," he began, talking louder so that he could be heard above the heavy rain, "this may be a little farfetched, and completely wrong, but…"

 

"What?" Jiyong snapped, "just tell me."

 

"Did Seungri ever mention a guy called Dean?"

 

Jiyong frowned. "Dean? No…no, why?"

 

Junhoran a hand irritably through his hair again. "Well, Deanand his friends…um, they're a bunch of Seniors who've been picking on Seungri."

 

"He's being bullied?"

 

"We told him to tell you, we really did. I kept telling him to tell a teacher or something, but he wasn't having it."

 

"What do they do, Dean and them lot?"

 

Again, Junhoruns a hand through his hair, quickly replying, "They stick signs on Seungri's back and take his bag, hiding it around school. Sometimes they take his cane, too." He paused, looking panicked. "I'd hoped Seungri'd told you or something."

 

"No, he didn't," Jiyong said coldly. "When was the last time you saw my brother?"

 

"I saw him just outside the school gates. He told me he had a couple of things to sort out, and wouldn't be getting the school bus today."

 

"What? Do you think he could still be at the school?"

 

"No, he was walking towards the woods."

 

"The woods?"

 

"Yeah, they're just by…"

 

"I know where they are," Jiyong snapped, livid, "I just don't understand why he'd go there. I also don't understand why you didn't tell me or a teacher about this."

 

"Jiyong, I'm so sorry I…"

 

Jiyong held up a hand. "Just forget it. Call me straight away if you see or hear from him, okay?" Jiyong grabbed a piece of paper and furiously scribbled his phone number down, giving it to a very guilty looking, flustered Junho.

 

"Woods?" I asked.

 

"Yeah," Jiyong said, as we drive off, "we can check out the area. What was Seungri thinking? He's blind, he could easily get lost around those woods."

 

I didn't answer, instead concentrating in driving in such treacherous conditions.

 

"It's cold and it's tipping it down with rain," Jiyong continued, "what if Seungri's hurt?"

 

This time I replied, "Let's not make any hasty assumptions, okay? I'm sure he's fine." I hoped Jiyong heard the conviction I'd tried to instill in my voice. "Let's just get to the woods first."

 

We drove in silence, Jiyong looking through his window continuously, checking his phone every now and then for messages. When I pulled up alongside a curb, just outside the woods, the rain has abated slightly and is less intense, but still shows no sign of relenting soon.

 

Jiyong bolted out of the car before I've even had time to cut the engine. I swore loudly, annoyed at his rashness, but realized that if I was in his position and Durami was missing, I'd behave in just the same fashion – charging off. I pulled my coat around me tightly, making sure my hood is covering my face. I looked left and right, generally scouting the area. Jiyong is a little ahead, calling "Seungri? Seungri?"

 

I followed close behind, raking my eyes across the outskirts of the forest. In this light I can barely discern anything. The forest is just one giant mass, individual trees barely distinguishable from the tight cluster.

 

Rain ran down the back of my coat, travelling along my spine. It provoked a violent shiver from me, bringing with it a wave of despondency and a sense of helplessness. How are we going to find Seungri in this weather? We don't have a clue where he could be. He could be anywhere.

 

"Seungri? Seungri is that…" Jiyong trailed off, instead calling, "Dara? I've found him, he's over here. He's okay."

 

I looked in the direction to where Jiyong's voice came from. He's not far inside the forest, crouching down in front of a great Oak tree. A figure is curled in a ball underneath it. I ran towards them, the building mass of worry I'd previously felt gradually dissipating.

 

"Thank God," I panted, skidding to a halt beside them, collapsing onto my knees. The knot of apprehension has unwound completely now, the more potent and more readily accepted fury and anger taking its place when I see what they've done. Seungri's bag is left discarded a couple of feet away, his books and papers strewn around him, ripped and degraded from the rain. His cane lays beside him, broken in two.

 

Jiyong gently removed Seungri's hands from across his face, scrutinizing him for injury. Thankfully I can only detect a bloody nose.

 

"Seungri? Seungri, will you please talk to me," Jiyong pleaded. Seungri's eyes are red and puffy, his eyes b with tears. He gave a wobbly smile.

 

"Hey," Seungri croaked.

 

Jiyong choked out a laugh then, relief instantly flooding his features, his smile broad and unrestrained. He pulled Seungri into a tight hug.

 

"I didn't know where you were, Seungri," Jiyong choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know what to think."

 

The canopy above us offered little in regards to shelter from the incessant pelts of rain. Seungri's shaking uncontrollably. He's drenched and sopping all the way through.

 

"We need to get back to the car," I said, as soon as Jiyong released Seungri.

 

Jiyong nodded, gulping, swallowing his relief. He stood up, helping Seungri to his feet, and winded an arm around his waist, supporting him.

 

I dashed to the car, grabbing a blanket from the boot and putting it in the back for Seungri. I put the heater up full blast, Jiyong and Seungri soon clambering into the back. Jiyong put the blanket around Seungri's shoulders, rubbing his shoulders to try and infuse some warmth into his frozen body.

 

As soon as they're both settled, I pulled out off from the curb and drived.

 

"I've tried calling you several times," Jiyong said gently, "why didn't you pick up?"

 

Seungri took a shuddering breath. "Some guys took my phone."

 

"Deanand his friends?"

 

"How do you know about them?"

 

"We saw Junhowhen we were driving around, trying to find you, he told me about the bullying, Seungri. Why didn't you tell me?"

 

Thickly, Seungri replied, "So much going on lately…it would only have made things worse. I was going to handle it today… get them to stop pushing me around….they promised me they'd stop it if I just…if I gave them this money." In a rush he said, "I'm so sorry, Jiyong. I've been taking money from you... out of your wallet and around the house. I didn't have enough of my own to pay them off… I didn't know where else to get it from, I'm so…"

 

Jiyong stopped him, interjecting, "It's okay… it's okay." I can hear Seungri crying quietly in the back, Jiyong rubbing his back comfortingly. "I'm not mad at you," Jiyong soothed, "I just wished you would've told me sooner."

 

An exhausted silence settled around us then, the revelations of the day sinking in. When I pulled up alongside Jiyong's house, the rain has drizzled down to a light shower.

 

Miss Manngreets us with a small smile when she opened the door, relief instantly flooding her slate-colored eyes. She held a pudgy hand to her heart and steps aside to let us in.

 

"I'm so glad you found him," she whispered. "I sent Dami and Deukkie to bed just over an hour ago."

 

"Thanks," Jiyong said, grateful. "You've been a life saver tonight."

 

"It's no problem, but we need to get you all out of those wet clothes. Seungri especially. I'll make you all some warm drinks – we need to get some feeling back into those bones of yours. Get changed, and I'll have it ready for you all when you come down."

 

Jiyong nodded, giving her a tired smile. His arm's still wrapped around Seungri's shoulders, as if he's afraid any breech in contact will result in his disappearance again. Jiyong tapped me on the arm, grabbing my attention, and said, "You can change into some spare clothes of mine."

 

I followed them upstairs quietly, not wanting to disturb Dami and Deukkie. It's a futile attempt, however, because they heard us anyway, Dami calling, "Jiyong oppa? Did you find Seungri oppa?"

 

"They found me, Dami," Seungri said. There's scuffling and the sound of heavy pounding feet as they meet us on the landing, both Deukkie and Dami running to give Seungri a hug.

 

"We were really worried," Deukkie said, his voice muffled against the blanket still wrapped around Seungri's sopping figure.

 

Seungri reciprocated the hug, giving them both a tight squeeze before letting them go.

 

Dami fixed a cute frown on her face, scolding, "Don't you do that again, oppa. We were worried."

 

A small smile found its way onto his face, and he shook his head. "I won't. Why don't you go back to bed guys? It's late."

 

"Okay," they said in unison, "see you tomorrow."

 

Seungri left to go to his room, while Jiyong pulled me into his. I've never been in his room before, so I took it all in, from the expansive bookcase in the corner to the pictures of his family on the windowsill. A music stand and his violin sat in another corner, more piles of books and sheets of music sporadically dotted around the room. It reminded me of mine room: an organized mess.

 

"Here," Jiyong said, handing me a shirt and shorts, "you can change in my bathroom."

 

I nodded, head to the bathroom, and shed my wet clothes, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair's plastered to my forehead, the tie that had fixed my hair into a ponytail having disappeared sometime in the rain. I grabbed a towel and dried my hair, wiping any of the moisture from my face as well. I sighed, still looking at my reflection, and say to my mirror image, "Well, this has been an eventful evening." I slipped on Jiyong's clean clothes then, taking a deep breath as I slipped the oversized shirt on. I smiled, it smells of him – a distinguishable and familiar scent.

 

Jiyong knocked on the door suddenly, asking, "Dara? Are you finished?"

 

I opened the door, holding my wet clothes. He took them from me and lead me into the hall. He knocked on Seungri's door quietly. When he didn't answer, he gently pushed the door open, flicking the light on. Seungri's flat out on his bed, eyes closed, breathing in out and deeply, he's sound asleep. A light smile touched Jiyong's lips as he pulled Seungri's sheets over him. His wet towel and clothes have been left discarded on the floor, so Jiyong picked them up, turning the light off before joining me in the hall. I tried catching his eye, but he seemed resigned on avoiding my gaze.

 

As promised, Miss Mannhas our hot drinks when we came down. Jiyong gave a short account of our search, including the revelation of Seungri being bullied, omitting Seungri's confession of taking Jiyong's money. She sat in silence, a look of alarm consistent on her round features.

 

"Oh, the poor dear," she exclaimed, "you're mother will have to go to the school about this. This kind of thing is not on."

 

"I know," Jiyong said, "we'll make sure an end is put to all of this. Thanks again, for everything. It's getting late, so don't feel as if you have to stay. Mom should be back soon."

 

Miss Mann nodded, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad he's been found and all this bullying will finally be put to an end."

 

Jiyong saw her out while I finish my cup. It's 10:15.

 

I watched him from my seat on the settee, as he waved to Miss. Mann from the door. He ran a hand throughout his hair. It's still damp as he hasn't bothered to dry it off with a towel. I watched his face fall from the small smile to a tired, despondent look. He didn't know I'm looking, because if he did, I'm sure he'd never let his guard down like this. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, the impassive mask has superseded his previous look of vulnerability.

 

I didn't give thinking a second thought, I just acted, getting up from my seat and going over to him, gently tugging him by the hand into the lounge before wrapping him in a hug. He tensed up, surprised by the gesture, but eventually wrapped his arms around me. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I didn't know how long we stay like that, but soon we found ourselves rocking gently back and forth.

 

"We still have that project to do," Jiyong quietly uttered, pulling away slowly from the embrace. I missed his warmth immediately.

 

I nodded. "It's gonna be a long night," I said. "Coffee?"

 

A small smile flitted it way across his face, his eyes shining with… something. I just can't discern what.

 

"I'm going to try and call my mom again," Jiyong said. "I left her a message before, telling her Seungri was missing. I better let her know we've found him."

 

I nodded, already heading to the kitchen to make two very strong coffees. All the turmoil of the day has left me both physically and mentally spent – we'll both need the caffeine if we are to finish this project tonight.

 

When I came out with our coffees, I found Jiyong already spreading our work out on the table. "I managed to get an answer on Mom's phone," he informed me, "a friend of hers answered it. Apparently Mom's crashed out at their place. She never got my message about Seungri being missing – she passed out just after seven."

 

I frowned. What a great Mother, huh?

 

Jiyong continued, "Mom's not normally this bad. Sometimes, if she's out with one of her drinking buddies, she stops at theirs. I suppose she has some humility by not wanting to come back to her family completely wasted."

 

I don't know what to say (what can I say?), so I placed my hand lightly on his shoulder instead, hoping it's of some comfort.

 

I wanted to solve all his problems. I wanted his dad to be faithful and responsible, I wanted his mom to be sober, and I wanedt Seungri to not have been victim to such brute bullying.

 

But life is never simple and it's never easy – it's actually rather ambiguous.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

SORRY!!!