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I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. 
Delicious Ambiguity.” 

--Gilda Radner

 

 

I'm lying down, spread out on my bed, listening to some crappy romance song that has just sprung on the radio. Ugh! I don't want some slow song that will leave me contemplating Jae and Jiyong, I want some heavy rock piece that will stop my thoughts altogether. I want to forget Jiyong's kiss, and I want my dad's unexpected and unwanted arrival to be absolved from my mind completely.

 

After Jungmin had left, and Mom and I had both shared a protracted, comforting hug, I'd gone to my room to lose myself in Ambiguity. I was hoping the vicarious experiences would allow me to escape my own problems for a while, but that had not been the case. I'd been severely dismayed to discover how Naomi's turmoil over her father mirrored my own: Jack had forgotten about his family, much like Jungmin had. But the most discerning contrast, however, was that Naomi's father had no choice in leaving his family, while Jungmin had – he'd voluntarily left us.

 

I buried my face in my pillow then, thinking of how Naomi and Ace's relationship paralleled Jiyong's and mine. In the beginning, she perceived him as a nuisance and a pest: a provocateur with whom she should avoid. Only now, she treated him as her friend and confidant; a person who she relied on so heavily, that the dependency made her feel uneasy. I'd become reliant on Jiyong as well, even if it was just for the trivial things: to make me smile, to make me laugh, to offer a comforting gesture…

 

I picked up Ambiguity, and flicked to the page I'd just read.

 

 

 

Naomi pulls her coat around her tightly, futilely trying to ward off the bitter chill from the cutting wind. Ace stands close beside her as they wait for the bus, his hands dug deep inside the pockets of his trench coat. She looks him up and down, admiring the way in which the coat snugly fits him, emphasizing his broad shoulders. Ace notices her stare, and turns to her with a small smile. He realizes she's shivering, and so removes his hands from his pockets to run them up and down her arms, trying to infuse some warmth into her slight figure.

 

Warmth flares up and down her arms. He takes a step closer and puts his arms around her, holding her to him.

 

"I'm a lot warmer now," Naomi mumbles, her voice muffled by his coat.

 

"That's good," Ace chirps.

 

"You can let me go."

 

"But if I do, you'll be cold and begin shivering and that wouldn't be good because you might catch a cold." He'd said it all in one, quick breath. Naomi swallows her laughter. He's such a chatterbox, and his reasoning is so ludicrous, she thinks.

 

Naomi begins to pull away from the embrace. "I think I'll risk it."

 

He eventually complies, relinquishing his hold on her. She misses his warmth instantly, but when he'd held her, her heart had begun to pound so loudly and at such a pace, that she feared he'd feel it through her thin coat.

 

Her eyes dart away from his, not wanting him to see the blush that's gradually blossoming on her cheeks. He's already caught sight of it though, and it warms his heart to know that he can have that effect on her. It gives him the confidence to be brash.

 

Ace gently cups the side of her face with his hand, forcing her eyes to meet his. He leans in close, slowly, brushing his nose along hers before placing a light kiss on her lips. His other hand moves to her waist, pulling her closer, before their lips meet again and begin moving in synchronization. He parts his lips slightly, and Naomi loses herself completely in the moment, throwing her arms around his neck.

 

Eventually their kisses slow, until their lips leave each other's completely. Ace rests his forehead against Naomi's, his breathing ragged, a broad smile gracing his lips. The upturn of his lips, however, falls when he notes Naomi's frown and the way her eyes refuse to meet his. She pulls away, all too soon for his liking, and turns her back on him.

 

"Naomi," Ace says gently, "turn around. Please."

 

She remains obstinate, her back still to him. She can't bring herself to look at his face, to see the hurt… the confusion.

 

"I'm sorry," Naomi utters, barely discernibly, "I shouldn't have done that."

 

Ace walks towards her, forcing her to look at him as he turns her around. She hadn't expected to feel his touch, and the sudden contact causes her to let out a startled yelp.

 

A pang of pain shoots through him as he sees the confliction on her face. She bites her lip, rapidly blinking back tears.

 

"Don't say that," Ace whispers, "don't tell me you felt nothing."

 

She takes a shuddering breath, schooling her expression, as she fixes him with an impassive mask. She shakes her head in response, and Ace's heart breaks in that instant.

 

He shakes his head furiously, hurt and disbelieving. Had he imagined her blushes? Were all those signs a fabrication of his mind? Had he convinced himself that she was attracted to him?

 

"Be honest with me, Naomi. Have you never felt anything towards me? Did I imagine it all?"

 

For a moment her composure threatens to shatter, and she fears she'll confess everything to him: telling him how she really felt; telling him that she just couldn't initiate a relationship with him...not now, not with everything going on at home. Her life was already in disarray, and any intimate relationship would only complicate matters. But how could she tell him that, when she knew he would only perceive it as a minor inconvenience? He'd persist, she knew he would, and perhaps, in the end, she would cave in, and they'd be together for a time. But what kind of relationship would it be when she was working and looking after her brother, dealing with a drunken mother and visiting her father. She barely had time for herself, so how would she make time for him? He didn't need to get caught up in her problems, anyway. It just wouldn't be fair.

 

"Just say it, Naomi," Ace demands, "tell me you don't care about me. Tell me… you don't love me."

 

Her breath hitches. Love?

 

Ace's still gripping her shoulders, his eyes bearing deep into hers, searching for what he hoped will ease the ache in his heart.

 

"I love you, Naomi," he declares. "Don't turn me away because you think family problems are going to make this relationship complicated, okay? Because it won't. I'll make it work."

 

A rush of happiness floods through her in response to his words. She expels a long breath, surprised at the emotion swimming in his eyes.

 

Life is so unfair, she muses, because not only will she be hurting herself with her next actions, but she will also be hurting Ace. She just hopes he'll get over her, and soon, because he deserves better.

 

She doesn't speak until she's sure she has complete control of her emotions, and her voice will not waver.

 

She takes a deep breath, and says, "I don't love you."

 

 

 

 

 

I closed the book and frown. Naomi and Ace were 'meant' to be together: that had been the general consensus of the class, and, eventually, even my own opinion.

 

So why was Naomi being so stubborn? Why couldn't she just put herself first for once? Yes, her actions were selfless, as she wanted to put her family first, and that was admiral. But surely there was a way for them to still be together?

 

My phone suddenly vibrated. I picked it up, and found my stomach sinking as I discovered that it's from Jae. It read: 

 

Hey Dara. We haven't gone out in a couple of weeks, so wanna grab something to eat? I could pick you up in a couple of hours? Xxx

 

I texted back a short reply: Yeah, sounds good. See you soon.

 

Letting out a long sigh, I got up from off my bed, hoping that I'm making the right decision.

 

 

 

"Hey," Jae said, greeting me with a peck on the cheek as I slouched into his car.

 

I gave a small smile and click my seatbelt into place. He raised an eyebrow, picking up on my somewhat dispirited mood.

 

"So," I said, trying to infuse some optimism into my voice, "where are we going?"

 

The frown disappeared from his face, only to be replaced by a bright smile. "There's a burger place in town. Sound good?"

 

I'm not really hungry (I never thought I'd say that), but nodded anyway.

 

The drive was thankfully short, as a tense ambience soon settled around us, making it incredibly uncomfortable.

 

We entered the restaurant in silence, took our seats in silence, and read through the menus in silence. I found myself unable to read the delicacies on the menu, and instead found myself ringing my hands furiously together. I sat on them in the end, surprised to find Jae scrutinizing me carefully when I looked up.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked.

 

My stomach dropped. There's no point in prolonging the inevitable. I should just tell him.

 

"Uhm…I," I began, "I like you a lot Jae…"

 

He held up a hand, stopping me in mid-flow.

 

"You don't have to say it," Jae mumbled. "You're breaking up with me."

 

The forlorn look on his face threatened to break my resolve. I never wanted to hurt him.

 

My face softened, and I found myself reaching across the table to touch his hand. He removed his arms from off the table, however, and forced a somewhat bitter laugh. "I suppose I was a little naïve in hoping you'd stay with me," he said. "You don't look at me in the same way you do to Jiyong." A small smile quirked his lips. "You become so animated when you talk with him. You smile a lot, too… only, it's different from your normal one. You seem to reserve that smile only for him." Jae's eyes left mine then, and my stomach plunged even deeper. "I'd hoped, in time, you'd look at me like that. Guess it just wasn't meant to be."

 

I leaned across the table, trying to catch his eye. Jae is such a nice guy, and he deserves so much better than me.

 

"Jae," I said, waiting for his eyes to lock back on mine, "I'm so sorry, you deserve better. You'll find someone else though, I promise."

 

He gave a short nod, the look of despondency still ever present on his face. "We're still friends though, right?" he asked, trying to force a smile back onto his lips.

 

"Of course!"

 

"And you'll still be our pianist?"

 

I paused. I don't want my presence to be awkward for him. I don't want to hurt him anymore than I absolutely have to. "Are you sure you still want me playing with you guys?" I asked.

 

He shrugged. "Well… yeah, you're one of the best pianists I know. And we're still friends, so…"

 

I smiled again, getting up from my seat, and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You really are a great guy, Jae," I said.

 

 

 

I'm curled up on the settee, aimlessly flicking through the channels on the TV. It's Sunday, two days after I'd broken up with Jae.

 

"Hey, Dara," Mom chirped, bringing in a vase of flowers to place in the window.

 

I gave a feeble wave, and turned my attention back to the TV.

 

Mom came to sit beside me, a frown on her face. "Is everything okay, Dara?" she asked.

 

"Of course." My response had been immediate, and lacked the conviction I'd desired to instill in my voice.

 

"Because you know, I'm always here if you want to talk," she continued.

 

I nodded, and began nervously rubbing my hands together.

 

"How was your date with Jae the other night?" she asked, still persistent.

 

Oh. I still have yet to tell Mom and Durami that we are, in fact, no longer together. I've been forestalling the moment, not prepared for the questions of why I'd broken up with him. I'm not prepared to tell them that I'd kissed someone else… twice.

 

"Um," I began, "we're not actually together anymore."

 

She frowned again, and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Was it a mutual thing?" she asked, "Or do I need to beat him up?"

 

I smiled at her latter utterance. "No," I said, "I ended it."

 

She nodded. "Because of Jiyong."

 

I jerked back, surprised at her words. "No!" I exclaimed. Heat instantly flooded my cheeks. Mom's wearing that knowing look (it's the one all mom's seem to have when they know you're lying), leaving no doubt in my mind that she doesn't believe me. At all.

 

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Jiyong?" she persisted.

 

"Positive."

 

She watched my expression carefully for a few more moments before nodding, standing up, and leaving me with my thoughts.

 

 

 

Nerves instantly flooded me as I entered the classroom, my eyes instantly raking each of the students' faces for Jiyong's. I'm somewhat relieved when I noted he isn't here yet. I'm not looking forward to the awkwardness that's bound to settle around us. We still have yet to discuss the kiss… uhm, kisses.

 

My apprehension, however, also stemmed from the fact that we will be receiving results for an exam taken a couple of weeks ago today. I thought I'd done… okay, but just couldn't be sure.

 

I took in the worried looks of my peers: some are visibly sweating. It looked like I'm not the only one freaking out about this exam.

 

"Right," Mr. Yang bellowed, "I suppose you're all expecting your results." He pulled out a dozen manila envelopes, and waved them like a fan in front of his face. "They're right here, and will be distributed to you shortly. Let's just wait for the remaining students to arrive, shall we."

 

I tapped my nails furiously against the desk, impatient.

 

Finally, the remaining students arrive, including Jiyong. He refused to meet my eye as he took his seat beside me, instead looking straight ahead.

 

"I already know your grades for this exam," Mr. Yang declared. "I was immensely pleased with some, and extremely disappointed with others."

 

As he handed Jiyong his envelope, Mr. Yang frowned, his lips, however, smiling when he hands me mine. I ripped it open furiously, my smile broad and big when I saw the A printed in the right hand corner. I felt Jiyong stiffen beside me. I glanced over, trying to conspicuously look at his paper. It reads: D. What? How could Jiyong fail the exam? He's Jiyong, for God's sake! He never fails exams.

 

"Class will be cancelled for today," Mr. Yang declared. "Some of you will want to celebrate, while the majority of you, I'm sure, will want to go off and cry." His eyes trained on Jiyong then. "Jiyong? Can you wait behind?"

 

Jiyong nodded tightly.

 

"You okay?" I asked.

 

"Brilliant," Jiyong replied absentmindedly. He got up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and walked over to Mr. Yang.

 

I grudgingly filed out with the rest of the students. But instead of walking down the corridor and out the doors, I pressed my ear against the door, straining to hear the faint conversation.

 

"What's happened, Jiyong?" Mr. Yang asked. "Your project with Dara was good. But this result, is not. You've been on a downward spiral for a while now. You've been handing in essays late, and I'm still waiting for that creative writing piece you promised me last week."

 

"I'm sorry," Jiyong mumbled.

 

"You're more than capable of doing well in my classes. So why aren't you? Is there something wrong at home?"

 

"No."

 

"Are you just being idle then? I won't tolerate slothfulness from my students."

 

"I'll do better."

 

"Yes, you will. I don't want to have to fail you at the end of this year, Jiyong. But if you don't buck up your ideas, I'll have no choice."

 

"I understand."

 

There's a long pause, and then Mr. Yang ordered, "Just go. And I expect that work you owe me to be on my desk by tomorrow."

 

There's another pause, and then the door suddenly swung open, knocking me back. Jiyong came out, his eyes widening when he sees me.

 

"Dara," he said, "were you eavesdropping?"

 

"What?" I feigned hurt. "No, of course not. I was… just looking for a penny I'd dropped."

 

He rolled his eyes. "You're a lousy liar." He paused. "How much did you hear?"

 

I shrugged. "All of it. Why didn't you tell me you were struggling with the work?"

 

Jiyong began to walk down the hall, and I followed close behind. "I'm not struggling," he stated, "I'm just a bit behind."

 

"Then why are you behind?"

 

"Just am."

 

"Maybe it's a good thing Jae's hand has healed then. You need the time to catch up, and quintet practice takes up a lot of time."

 

"Yeah," Jiyong began, "you're glad Jae's back playing with you guys. You certainly won't need me anymore."

 

I abruptly stopped. "What?" I exclaimed. "You know I don't think of it like that. You knew you're playing with us was only temporary."

 

He waved off my response with a flick of his hand. He turned his back on me, and walked down the hall, leaving me extremely agitated and stupefied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jiyong wasn't in class the next day. And Mr. Yang was more than a little vexed at his tardiness, asking me several times as to whether I knew his whereabouts. I answered truthfully: I have no idea.

 

As soon as class ended, I was out the door and dialling Jiyong's number. There's no response. Damn. I let out an aggravated sigh, and, annoyed and frustrated, drove to his house.

 

I have to knock several times before the door finally creaked open, slowly. Dami's head poked through the door, a smile stretching her lips upwards when she realized it's me.

 

"Unnie!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're here. Jiyong went charging off ages ago, and hasn't come back yet."

 

"What?" I asked, startled. "When? Why?"

 

The door's suddenly pulled open wider, and the tall, lanky figure of Seungri appeared behind her.

 

"Dara? Is that you?" he asked.

 

"Yeah," I said. "What's this about Jiyong 'charging off'?"

 

Seungri ran a frustrated hand across his face, ushering me inside with his other hand. His white cane clanked across the wall as he felt his way into the living room, and took a seat by the door. Deukkie sat, forlorn, on the settee with his knees drawn up to his chin. I sat beside him and patted him on the back. Dami perched beside me, clutching her toy close to her chest.

 

"We met with the principal this morning," Seungri began, "we, being mom and Jiyong. I told the principal all about the bullying, but he just said that they couldn't expel Dean and his friends because it had taken place out of school. The best they could do was suspend them. Jiyong wasn't pleased." He paused, running an agitated hand throughout his hair. "When we walked out of the school, Deanand his friends were there. They made some comments about me being a blind idiot…called me … stuff like that. Jiyong went to lunge for them, but mom pulled him back. As soon as we got home though, and mom had left to go to the supermarket, Jiyong was back out the door. I think he went back to the school, to go after Deanand the others."

 

Damn…damn…damn. Why did Jiyong have to be so rash? Why couldn't he think before leaping in with his fists?

 

"Has he got his phone on him?" I asked. "I tried calling him earlier, but he didn't pick up."

 

"He left his phone at home," Deukkie declared, pointing to the phone on the fireplace.

 

"The idiot," I muttered, quietly from under my breath.

 

Suddenly there's a quick rap at the door. The door handle was yanked down, but because the chain had been put back on, it did not open. I went to the door, opened it, and let out a long breath when I saw that it was Jiyong.

 

His eyebrows twitched up in surprise before he winced at the facial movement. There's a large, purple bruise blossoming over his right eye. Dried blood was smeared across his nose and chin. It's on his shirt, too.

 

"Oppa!" Dami exclaimed, running over to give him a hug. He winced as she winded her arms around him.

 

"Hey, Dami," he soothed, patting her on the back.

 

She relinquished her grip, and pulled back. "You're hurt," she declared. "What happened? Did you fight Dea nand those mean boys?"

 

Jiyong stumbled through the doorway, his hand outstretched to help him to the lounge. I attempted to wind an arm around his shoulders, trying to help him, but he only shrunk away from my touch.

 

"Please tell me you didn't fight them?" Seungri pleaded.

 

"Dean got what he deserved," Jiyong stated. "I told him to leave you alone. I'm sure they will now."

 

I frowned. "You didn't take them all on, did you?"

 

He shook his head imperceptibly, and winced once again at the slight movement. "No. I only found Dean."

 

"Why the hell did you do that, Jiyong?" Seungri shouted. "You'll have just made him mad. He's going to be ten times worse than before now."

 

Jiyong's face dropped, his eyes pleading. "He needed to be taught a lesson. He shouldn't be able to get away with what he's been doing to you."

 

"And now he's going to be even worse, because he'll think that I sent my big brother after him. He'll take it out on me, and he'll make my life an even bigger hell than it was before."

 

"Seungri…"

 

"No, Jiyong. You've just made everything a bloody lot worse. Thanks a bunch."

 

Seungri turned his back on us then, his cane whacking against the doorframe before his heavy footfalls can be heard on the stairs.

 

Jiyong looked stricken.

 

"Are you okay, hyung?" Deukkie asked in a timid voice.

 

Jiyong's face softened as he ruffled Deukkie's hair. "I'm fine, Deuk.”

 

"Come on," I said. "I'll help you get cleaned up."

 

I didn't wait for a response, instead grabbing his hand, tugging him up the stairs to his bathroom. He didn't resist, and surprisingly, complied with my efforts.

 

He sat on his bed as I went to get a cloth, rinsed it with water, and dug around in his cupboards for some antiseptic cream.

 

When I had all I needed, I crouched on the floor down beside him, delicately dabbing at the blood crusted on his nose and upper lip. He breathed in deeply, refusing to show any sign that he's in pain. Occasionally though, his eye would twitch as I'd wipe over a blossoming bruise.

 

"Why are you here?" Jiyong asked quietly.

 

I was not expecting the question, and faltered for a moment. "Mr. Yang wanted me to give you our next assignment. " It wasn't a lie, but it could have waited until tomorrow. "Why'd you miss class?" I asked.

 

"Needed to go with mom to see the Principal."

 

"We had a morning and afternoon class," I said. "You weren't in either. Seungri said your appointment was in the afternoon. You could have come to the morning class."

 

Jiyong pulled away from me, shifting back further on his bed. "Needed to make sure mom remained sober for the meeting."

 

My face softened, and the hand bearing the cloth dropped to my side. He looked away from me, towards the ground.

 

There's still blood on his face, under his chin and smeared above his lips. He'd gotten a bloody nose, but fortunately, it didn't appear to be broken.

 

I sat beside him on the bed, and gently turned his head towards me. I wiped the wet cloth just under his nose, removing the blood. He still refused to meet my eyes though, instead, preferring to look at a spot just above my head.

 

The blood's gone, but there's water now glistening on his lips and chin. Slowly, I wiped my finger across his upper lip, removing the excess water. He shivered, and his hand snapped forward, stilling mine.

 

"Don't," he whispered, his eyes finally locking on mine.

 

It's only then that I realized how close we are, our thighs are touching, and our noses are just mere inches apart.

 

I looked up, feeling his gaze. His eyes held that perpetual depth again, and like magnets, they drew me in, closer, closer. Until finally, my lips met his in a hesitant kiss.

 

His hand suddenly lets go of my wrist, moving to my back, where he rubbed slow circles in between my shoulder blades, leaving trails of heat. His other hand moved to my neck, where he buried it in my hair. Our lips began moving at a faster pace then, and suddenly I'm on my back, and Jiyong's hovering over me, propped up on his elbows.

 

"Oppa? Oppa? Where are you? Unnie?" The voice of Dami startled us, and we jumped apart as if shocked. Seconds later she walked in and frowns. "Why's both your hair messy?" The frown grew on her forehead as she looked at Jiyong. "Why's your shirt undone oppa?"

 

I'm blushing bright red, I'm sure, and Jiyong's cheeks seem to have taken on much the same color.

 

"My shirt's got blood on it, Dami," he explained, "I was just about to change it."

 

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Okay. Do we have anything to eat? Me and Deukkie are really hungry."

 

Jiyong's lips quirked into a small smile. "Mom will be back from the supermarket soon, okay? So we'll all eat then."

 

She smiled brightly. "Okey dokey. Will Dara unnie be staying?"

 

"No," he said, "she has to go."

 

"Okay. We'll see you soon though, right Dara?" she asked.

 

I glanced at Jiyong. "I hope so."

 

"Good. Come downstairs soon? We haven't seen you much lately, oppa."

 

His face fell at her latter words, and he nodded his head, forcing a smile onto his lips.

 

As soon as the door closed behind us, Jiyong ran a hand throughout his hair, emphasizing its disheveled look. His back is to me, so I can't see his face, and can’t know what he's thinking.

 

"Jiyong," I said, hesitant.

 

"I shouldn't have done that, Dara," he muttered. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

 

I in a breath, and my stomach sunk. I'd realized it all too late.

 

I realized I loved him all too late. And now he's moved on, and it's all my fault.

 

"Why shouldn't you have done that?" I demanded. "It's not like it's the first time we've kissed. Are you trying to tell me that they were mistakes, too?"

 

He turned to me then, wearing that annoyingly infuriating mask of stolidity. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have led you on."

 

I gaped, speechless, and looked towards the ceiling with glassy eyes, hating myself for the tears that were congealing there. I blinked them away rapidly, determined to not let him see how much his words were hurting me.

 

"You know," I began, and forced a laugh, "I broke up with Jae."

 

"You shouldn't have. Not for me."

 

"I didn't do it for you. He didn't deserve a girlfriend that cheated on him. He deserved better."

 

"And so do you," Jiyong said.

 

I sniffed and tucked my hands deep inside my jacket pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. "For a while there, I thought you might…" I paused, not sure whether I should continue.

 

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. I shook my head, deciding not to elaborate. I felt like I've been punched. Hard. And there's nothing more I wanted than to retreat home, bury myself under the covers, and never come out.

 

"I better go," I mumbled, looking anywhere but at him.

 

"Yeah," he agreed, "thanks, for everything."

 

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and left the house without a word.

 

 

 

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Kyaaaaaaa! Hahaha Lol. Hello everyone! I missed you guys!!!! Huhuhu lol anyway, thank you again for all the comments. You guys are so.............. <3 <3 <3 THANK YOU!!!!!!! MMWAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

Btw, this story has more or less 8 chapters left. T_________T

So yea. See you next chapter!!!!!

Oh! Hi to #GForceladies and to all my fans whom are called VIPLAIBERJACKPLER. =)))))) Annyeong!

 

 

 

Btw, if you didn't know, someone stole my iPhone. And some of what I've written is there. Including yes, TOTL. My picture with Jjangmae was there too ;; huhuhuhuhuhuhu

On a more positive note, I finally saw 2NE1 in person!!! woooooo yey!!! ^___^

 

 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BTW, To those who have twitter accounts please follow the founder of AFF, @asianfanfics, for more updates and site upgrades! We had a deal, so yeah, I have to advertise his twitter account. Hahahaha

(BONUS: HE IS SUPER HANDSOME LIKE !@I*E#&(*&!@*(#&!!)