just a short lil introduction to most of the characters :> thank you everyone that subbed!

 

One thing Chanyeol began to notice was that no matter how much money you spent on sandwich bread, it all tasted the same once it was cooked in the toaster. He’d spent five pounds on this loaf of bread. It was, supposedly, the God of breads; honey oats, brown, thick crust, seedless. But as soon as he slathered jam and butter all over the top, it was just a filling and he’d wasted three dollars extra on bread that tasted like the jam on the top. Food didn’t taste much either when you were in the process of running and trying to breathe through a slab of wheat.

Chanyeol really hated Mondays.

The bus honked from behind and Chanyeol sped up to Olympic speeds towards the stop, rain drizzling on the pavement and making his feet slip in the slightest. Chanyeol’s backpack smacked against him with each leap of his legs, winding him.

Rounding the corner with a skid, Chanyeol managed to avoid slipping but just a margin thick as a hair on his head, and bolted the final stretch to the yellow bus stop where a crowd of umbrellas stood. If Chanyeol was smarter, he may have thought to bring an umbrella when he saw it was raining. Unfortunately, common sense and academics were never quite his forte. The bus pulled up and Chanyeol only had a single breath to spare before he was packing himself on the busy bus like a sardine in a tin can.

His friends waved him from the back of the bus and Chanyeol had to squeeze through, earning more than his fair share of dirty looks. Chanyeol was popular with the general school populace, yes, but that didn’t excuse him when the kids were fighting it out Hunger Games style just to stay standing and not be crushed so badly that they were forever lost among the crowd.

 

“What am I going to do?” Jongin wailed into the phone, half hanging off his bed. His room was blue and a bit on the gloomy side, and Jongin thought it fits his emotions right about now.

“Um, I don’t know, tell her the truth?” Chen offered like was that simple.

Jongin curled into a ball and fake sobbed through the phone. “She just kept pushing and pushing—and I didn’t want to be rude or anything so I just sort of said that I’d go on the date, but… you know.”

“Right,” Chen said dryly, “the whole uality crises thing you’ve got going on. And as you always say, no—“

“No partners until I figure it out. It’s just, she was so hopeful and I felt like a total when I said I wasn’t interested. Maybe I’ll just go on the one date then tell her it was nice and she’s a lovely girl but I’m just not… you know.”

Jongin heard Chen smack himself in the forehead through the phone. “Or, you could not get her hopes up and tell her the truth. I mean it’s not exactly like it’s a massive deal to be gay—“

“Bi,” he corrects.

“Right, sorry, bi. But as I was saying it’s not a big deal that you’re questioning you’re uality or a bit confused or whatever. I mean look at that kid in the year above us uh… Baekhyun I think? He’s revered by half the school and everyone knows he’s gay as Sunday.”

“I’m not worried about what others will think,” Jongin said with honesty. “I’m just worried about upsetting her.”

“Well it’s gonna upset her more if you play along with it.”

Jongin ignored him. “Maybe I should just give her a chance, at the very least. I’ll be upfront about it and say that this is more like a trial than an actual date to see if we like each other or something, then if it goes well I guess… I’ll see where it goes.”

Jongin could practically hear Chen shrug through the phone. “Whatever, it’s up to you dude. Just remember that this girl’s got a lot of feelings for her, so let her down gently.”

“Always do,” he replied, hanging up the call.

 

---

The rain fell in heavy droplets, splattering on the window in pretty patterns. Baekhyun stared at them, completely ignoring his teacher and watching as they split down into rivulets, entertaining himself through the boring as English class he had to attend four ing times a week. The wind cut through the rain in icy waves and splayed the droplets out in all sorts of directions.

Baekhyun stared out the window to the soccer pitch. It wasn’t that he particularly liked playing—sports weren’t his thing—but he longed to be outside of the classroom. He’d prefer shivering out in the rain to sitting in another class. His leg bounced incessantly and rattled the desk.

The English teacher, Mrs Hooper, walked up the isles, handing out tests along with aspiration forms, a stupid note they had to fill out every year up until their last about their plans after high school. Baekhyun was glad this would be the last he would ever have to fill out before graduation.

The teacher stopped a moment at his desk and placed his test down, a red thirty-eight staring him in the face. Mrs Hooper looked like she wanted a surprised or disappointed reaction, but all Baekhyun could muster up was a shrug and a hapless smile. She tutted her tongue and moved on.

Baekhyun filled his aspiration sheet with a big ‘I DO NOT KNOW’, signing his name at the top and folding it in half for the teacher to collect at the end of the period.

Next to him, his good friend Heechul huffed a snicker. Baekhyun gave him a cheeky grin and held up his test proudly. “I’ve got a new record.”

Heechul held up his with a bold forty-nine written on. “You know what, if you actually could shut the up for more than two seconds I would probably be passing this class.”

Baekhyun knew it was in good humour, but it still hurt. He couldn’t help the energy that constantly thrummed underneath his skin, making him feel as if he were seconds away from bursting if he didn’t say or do something.

“Piss off,” Baekhyun laughed, “if anything it’s cause you can’t stop ogling the girls up front.”

Heechul raised his eyebrows and gave him a challenging look. “Well maybe if you spent some time actually focusing on the guys instead of me I’d ace this class.”

Baekhyun stuck up his middle finger and Mrs. Hooper lost her .

Kyungsoo underlined another paragraph, his wrist aching. The world was dead silent outside at four in the morning. His eyes ached from the lack of sleep, but he had to complete this study session otherwise Younghwa, his father, would yell at him once again. He was tired of studying and staying up late, but his father wanted him to be a doctor, and if that was what Younghwa wanted, it was what he would get. Kyungsoo studied far above his level, even dipping into senior year material.

By the time Kyungsoo crawled into bed, it was well past five in the morning. He would have to be up in two hours to make it to school on time, but his body was protesting when he set the alarm.

It was dead silent and Kyungsoo was on the verge of sleep when the front door banged open. Kyungsoo groaned but shot awake none the less. He didn’t want to get up and find out what his brother had been up to until god awful times during the night, not when he was going to be running on only two hours of sleep—but it was his brother, and he loved his brother more than anyone in the world.

Kyungsoo threw on a pair of socks and toed down the stairs as quietly as possible, hoping to all hell he didn’t wake up his father.  

Seungsoo stood at the now closed door, hunching over the wood and fiddling with the keys between his fingers. He missed the keyhole three times before getting it in and finally turning it, his body jittery and stance unstable. Kyungsoo marched up to him and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face Kyungsoo. He mouth dropped open when he made eye contact with his brother.

“Are you high?” Kyungsoo felt cold with shock.

Seungsoo barked a laugh and Kyungsoo shot his hand over his mouth. The last thing Seungsoo needed was their dad finding this out.

“Only a litttttle,” he drawled, pulling Kyungsoo’s hand away and swayed passed his shoulder and to the staircase. Kyungsoo rushed to help him up, hand on his back the whole way as he climbed the stairs.

Anger mixed with worry stirred a cold feeling in his gut. His brother had come home high on pot a time and then again, but this time Kyungsoo knew it was different. By the way he was behaving he’d taken something much stronger.

Once Kyungsoo settled him into bed, he ran a hand through his black hair, and pulling at the scalp. “You can’t just—just waltz in at five in the morning high out of your ing mind without even sending a text to let me know you’re okay. You can’t do this.”

“Says who?”

“Me, for one. Believe it or not I still give a , and dad—“

“ him.”

Kyungsoo punched his shoulder. “Do you want to be hit? You know what he’s like.”

Seungsoo shrugged his shoulder and pulled the covers over him, wriggling underneath and ignoring any conversation that Kyungsoo tried to start. Eventually, he gave up and stomped back to his room.

Kyungsoo didn’t sleep that night.