AND COUNTING

Wonwoo is shy - that's obvious - but Mingyu definitely isn't. They're two not entirely opposite people who cross,
and some things change over time. Through lost pants, awkward teen years, fist fights, and bad jokes, Wonwoo
slowly notices that falling in love isn't all about the fluttering in one's stomach; it's knowing who your safe haven
is. And as he learns about the bits and pieces that make up Mingyu, Wonwoo sees that maybe he's already found
his safe haven.
It just takes him 7 years, 8 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours, and 15 minutes to realize this - but who's counting?

And when their sparks died off, so did the sight of Mingyu's face - Mingyu's everything. The phosphenes weren't
there either; it was completely black. Every part of him had disappeared into nothingness, leaving not a single
trace in the air. Wonwoo, he realized, was terrified of this...
...he was terrified of losing Mingyu in the world of nothingness.

01

When boys reach the age of 12, they hit their maximum point of awkwardness and do the most regrettable things. From
their old embarrassing MySpace profile pictures, to the fashion choices they make – it all eventually ends in groans and
cringing when they look back. Jeon Wonwoo, however, somehow managed to make minimal choices that he’d regret as
an older teen. That is until Kim Mingyu came along and yanked him out of what he called “Wonwoo’s cave of shyness.”

At the time, Wonwoo lived with his parents and basically everyone on his mom’s side of the family. The household was
always chaotic to say the least, with at least one family member fighting another for the last cookie in the cookie jar once
a day. A five bedroom house was never enough for such a large family – two aunts, three uncles (one of them depressed
from his recent divorce), six boys, four girls, three fetuses and his parents – and since the bedroom for boys was over
occupied, he voluntarily shared a room with the girls. Wonwoo was the second oldest amongst the girls, his fifteen year
old cousin Minsuh taking the lead. Although she was older than him, it didn’t appear like it whenever he stood beside
her. She was selfish and took over the top bunk, never allowing the others climb to the top (sometimes with the
exception of Wonwoo).

As reserved as he was, Wonwoo always finished first at dinner to sit in the corner of his shared room while reading and
re-reading his Harry Potter books. Dinner always lasted too long because everyone either fought or talked with food in
their mouths. He didn’t appear to fit in with the environment, so he usually kept his head down so low that the plate of
spicy chicken sometimes skipped his seat and moved on to the person next to him. Whenever that happened, he’d stay
awake until two in the morning to sneak in the kitchen and make himself a turkey sandwich, saving himself from
starving throughout the night.

On Christmas, Wonwoo stayed at the table longer than usual and ate as much as he could. He still didn’t talk much, but
at least he played Godzilla with Chan, his third youngest cousin in the boys group. They all called him Dino since he
refused to ever be called by his birth name. After Chan knocked out on the couch, his Godzilla action figure hanging
loosely in his hand, Wonwoo carried him to his room and returned to his own.

“No, you’re cuter… No, you are!”

Minsuh was giggling and cooing through the house phone, twisting the ends of her ponytail between her fingers. When
Wonwoo walked in, she gave him a quick glance then returned to her conversation. He sat in his usual corner to finish
The Book Thief, but Minsuh’s voice was too distracting to ignore. Giving up, he hid his book beneath the boxers in his
underwear drawer, because the girls would tear it apart to make snowflakes if he left it out.

“Wonwoo? What about him?”

Wonwoo’s ears perked at the sound of his name, back straightening and eyebrows raised. As his cousin continued to
talked on the phone, she eyed him the whole time.

“My boyfriend’s brother wants to talk to you,” Minsuh said, throwing the device to him. Wonwoo flailed as he caught
the silver home phone. “His name is Mingyu, in case you were wondering.”

Once his cousin left the room, sparing him one last eye roll, Wonwoo hesitantly held the phone to his ear. “H-Hello?”

“Hi!” The voice was loud and ecstatic, and Wonwoo tried not to flinch back. “You’re Wonwoo, right? Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Y-Yes, I a–”

“Do you know who I am?”

Wonwoo thought back to Minsuh’s words and replied with, “You’re Mingyu... I think.”

“I AM! WOW, I CAN’T BELIEVE JEON WONWOO KNOWS WHO I AM!” Wonwoo didn’t know what to say, but
Mingyu spoke up again. “You have a MySpace, right?”

He nodded, forgetting that Mingyu couldn’t see him. “I do.”

“You should put me on your top friends list.”

So he did. He quietly snuck his way up Minsuh’s bed and opened her laptop, typing in the MySpace URL and logging
in. Although having a MySpace for quite some time, he never really used it. The only times he did were when Minsuh
allowed him to use her laptop for fifteen minutes, and even then he was confused as to how the website worked.
Embarrassed, he asked Mingyu for help, in which he gladly provided.

“Oh, look,” Mingyu said, “I’m the only one on your list.”

Wonwoo felt heat rise to his cheeks and the back of his neck, stuttering, “I-I don’t use MySpace often.”

“Oh. Hey, let’s talk again Sunday morning!”

Then the two (mostly Mingyu) made a schedule of when they could and couldn’t talk over the phone. To make it simple,
Wonwoo narrowed their agenda down to every Friday night and Sunday morning. It was weird for him to say, but
Wonwoo could feel Mingyu smile through the phone.

“Merry Christmas, by the way,” Mingyu whispered, as though he was telling a secret. “I’ll give you your present when I
see you.”

“You don’t have to...”

“Too late; I already bought it last week.”

 That’s when he hung up, leaving Wonwoo confused and unable to process what had just happened. He stared at
Minsuh’s monitor and read over Mingyu’s name over and over and over again, drawing his eyebrows together when he
saw Mingyu’s profile picture set as a panda eating bamboo.

It was 8:15 PM when their first call ended – 8:16 PM when Minsuh stormed in the room, snatched her laptop away from
Wonwoo and kicked him off the top bunk. Thank God he ended up breaking his arm instead of his neck.

02

Wonwoo was sitting on his front porch, staring at the cast secured around his broken arm. It used to be red, that was before
the kids started doodling and scribbling on it with the Crayola markers they'd gotten for Christmas. He managed to keep
one spot blank for Mingyu to sign, covering it with some masking tape he found in his uncle's tool cabinet, because Mingyu
promised – and quote – “It’ll be like getting my autograph before I become rich and famous or something.” Mingyu
promised to sign it when they meet. When they’d spend time together in person, though, was a mystery he spent too much
time thinking about.

The sound of footsteps climbing up the porch caught Wonwoo’s attention and he tilted his head up. Standing in front of
him was a guy who looked slightly older than he was, if not the same age. He wore skin tight jeans and a red shirt that
matched the original color of his cast. Wonwoo wondered how the stranger could still be standing with pants that looked
so suffocating.

“Hey, is Minsuh home?” the stranger asked, shifting awkwardly in place. “I’m supposed to be taking her out tonight.”

Wonwo blinked. “And you are…”

“Seungcheol. You know, Minsuh’s–”

“Boyfriend.”

“Yeah. That.”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol’s first encounter was probably more than just awkward. Seungcheol stood by the door, looking
as if he were waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, though; just a round of blank stares from Wonwoo and odd
tension between them. It lasted until Minsuh tapped on the window adjacent to Seungcheol, and he smiled and waved at
her, probably forgetting about the discomfort he'd felt previously.

After closing the door, Minsuh held Seungcheol’s hand in hers and raised to the tip of her toes to kiss his cheek. Wonwoo
grimaced.

“Hyung” – Wonwoo looked to the side and saw… Mingyu? – “that’s gross.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes and ignored his brother. “Forget Mingyu; he’s here because he wanted to meet Wonwoo.”

Minsuh and Seungcheol stayed on the porch for a while longer, sharing nose kisses and giggling like two kids in love. It
was gross – really gross – and it physically hurt Wonwoo as he watched, winced and shivered. Mingyu moved next to
Wonwoo and gagged – an animal-like sound that sprouted from the farthest part of his throat. “Take it somewhere else,
hyung!” he complained.
“Kids like you don’t understand love.” Mingyu gagged again, and Wonwoo's lips pursed as he held in the urge to laugh.
He was younger than the couple, but even he knew that whatever they had was definitely not love. Strong, cringe-worthy
feelings – sure. Love – nope. “Come on, babe,” Seungcheol then said to Minsuh, "I got us tickets for a movie.”

Minsuh asked, “What movie?” and, in a failed attempt at flirting, Seungcheol winked. “It’s a surprise.” I bet it’s a Disney
movie, Wonwoo thought. “Let’s go, shall we? Mingyu, you’re staying here till I get back.”

“Then I hope that movie lasts forever,” Mingyu mumbled. Once Minsuh and Seungcheol skipped away to the cheap cinema
a couple blocks down, Mingyu turned to face Wonwoo, smiling widely. “Hey, Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo took a step back, startled. “H-Hey, Mingyu.”

“Wow, you actually look a lot more different than you do in the pictures hyung showed me.” Mingyu stared at Wonwoo
with knitted eyebrows, his head tilted to the side. “Hm. Weird.”

“What?”

“You look better than in pictures.” Wonwoo felt his ears turn red at the tips. “Hey, wanna see the stuff I brought?”

He nodded.

While Mingyu was scavenging through a plastic bag he was holding, Wonwoo stood there staring at him. He’d only seen
Mingyu once in his life, and that was in a family picture Minsuh had on her laptop. If he were to be honest, Mingyu
appeared a lot shorter in the picture. In real life, however, he was in the midst of growing to Wonwoo’s height.

A stack of DVD cases were stretching the webs of Mingyu’s fingers as he held them up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo stood still,
clueless as to what he was supposed to do, but when Mingyu wiggled the stack he held them with two hands. The younger
boy looked up again with a family sized bag of chips in one hand and two cola’s in the other.

“So I brought a whole bunch of DVD’s from my dad’s collection, and look! There’s Terminator and Forrest Gump.”

Wonwoo looked through the stack, noticing that they were all films from when he was younger or not even born yet. Old
movies were his favorite, but he’d already seen half of the ones Mingyu brought.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo said. “I want to watch all of these with you, but I have a… big family. We can’t really watch these
here.”

“Oh.” The corners of Mingyu’s smile were pulled downwards, creating a look of disappointment. However, it was Mingyu,
and Mingyu always found a way to smile again. “Hey, we can just go to my house and watch them instead.”

“But Seungcheol-hyung said he’d pick you up here.”

Mingyu straight up blew a raspberry, small bits of saliva flying from his mouth. “He's a liar. Don’t believe him; he’s too
caught up in his dumb relationship to remember that I’m here.”

Wonwoo hesitated for a while, but was soon convinced to join after Mingyu offered to share a meatlovers pizza together.
He asked his aunt for permission to leave since his parents were off at work, and upon hearing her say yes the two friends
raced down the sidewalk, all the way to Mingyu’s house. Because Wonwoo didn’t know where to go, he let Mingyu run
ahead of him.
Watching Mingyu make a turn, he noticed that they had stopped at a house that looked bigger than his own. Newly cut
grass was coloring in the front yard in a mix of green and fainy yellow, and two vehicles were parked in the driveway.
Wonwoo slowed down until he stopped completely in his tracks as he stared at the house. He remembered how he always
passed it to go to school, sometimes standing outside of it and wishing it were his. He used to think that whoever owned
the house was lucky. Mingyu couldn’t possibly live there.

“What’re you doing?” Mingyu hollered from the end of the walkway, hands cupped around his lips like a bullhorn.
“C’mon, I’ll show you my room.”

Blinking a few times brought Wonwoo back to reality and away from his thoughts. Mingyu was waiting for him, smiling
while waving the bag of DVD’s and junk food in the air convincingly. He took a deep breath and jogged his way to the
front door.

The interior of the house was even better than the exterior. The furniture was a bit quirky and bright, taking the dullness
away from the plain white walls. A blue sofa was standing adjacent from a brown reclining chair, and the TV was placed
across it. Miscellaneous items were neatly set on top of a chestnut coffee table, three remotes settled next to one another.
It was all too neat compared to the mess Wonwoo lived in.

“My mom’s sort of a clean freak,” Mingyu said as he threw the plastic bag carelessly in the air, not minding if the DVD
cases would break or if the bottles of cola would burst. He grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist and started leading him up the L
shaped staircase. “Let’s hang in my room for a while!”

Mingyu’s room was the second door on the left. The walls were coated in blue, some parts covered by superhero posters.
Action figures were aligned on a shelf of three above the white computer desk, Wonwoo recognizing one of them as
Aquaman. Mingyu’s duvet was space themed and his pillows were navy blue. It was basically the room Wonwoo had
always wished for.

“Check this out!” Mingyu held one of his action figures right between their faces. Moving his head to the side a bit to look
at Wonwoo, he grinned. “It’s my dad’s old Batman action figure from when he was in college.”

The action figure was definitely old, telling by the chipped shoulder piece and scratched cape. Wonwoo didn’t know much
about superheroes, but he knew that collecting the action figures was always some sort of hobby people often had.

“It looks a bit - I don’t know - wrecked?” Wonwoo murmured, examining the toy with just his eyes.

“I know right!” Mingyu moved his hand away and suddenly leaned closer, the tip of their noses almost touching. He grew
a large smile that was too creepy to be comfortable looking at. “Isn’t it awesome?”

“Well, I mean, I guess.”

“Do you want it?”

Wonwoo blinked for the nth time. “You shouldn’t give that to me.”

“Why not?” Mingyu questioned. “You don’t like Batman? Everyone I know likes Batman.”

“It’s not that,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the action figure away from the other’s grasp and walking over to the shelf. As he
set it between Thor and Wonder Woman, he said, “I just don’t think I can take care of it.”
“Sure you can,” Mingyu defended. “If I can take care of it, you can, too. I’m awful at taking care of things.” He walked
back to the shelf and grabbed Batman off of it, almost knocking over Wonder Woman. “It’s my late Christmas present for
you…”

“W-What?”

“You see, my mom had a yard sale to get rid of our old stuff and found a small box of action figures my dad used to own.
I really wanted them, so I gave my mom all the coins in my piggy bank to make them mine. It was worth it, huh?”

“Not really…”

Mingyu shoved the Batman figurine at Wonwoo’s chest, grinning from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas again.”

“But, Mingyu, I don’t have anything to give you.”

“Oh, you already gave me mine a very long time ago,” he joked, laughing at the end. “Don’t worry about it. Now” – he
clapped his hands together – “let’s go watch Terminator downstairs, shall we?”

The boys spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on Mingyu’s couch and paying hardly any attention to what was happening
on the screen. Most of what they did was mainly Wonwoo watching Mingyu show off a few flexibility tricks he could do.
When dinner came by, Mingyu’s mother called them over to the table. The three of them ate fish, rice and a few banchan
dishes (because the nearest pizza parlor was closed). The atmosphere surrounding them was hushed – another thing that
Wonwoo wasn’t used to.

Despite how much Wonwoo didn’t talk during their hangout, Mingyu was more than happy to have his friend there with
him. Wonwoo had fun for a change, and the parts in his life living in black and white became fusing with color. If spending
time with Mingyu was always going to be this way, Wonwoo never wanted to leave.

“You should sleep over,” Mingyu suggested out of nowhere. “You can use our house phone to call your parents, and you
can borrow my pajamas if they let you. We can have a contest on who can stay up the latest.”

And he did. He called his mom, using his uninjured hand told hold up the phone. She questioned a lot about the sudden
call, but when Wonwoo mentioned a sleepover at a friend’s house, gleefully she said, “Friend? FRIEND? YES! YOU
CAN STAY FOR AS LONG AS YOU’D LIKE.” And the call ended.

Wonwoo shifted to get up, but Mingyu’s hand pushed his shoulder down. “Don’t move.”

He looked down at his cast and found Mingyu holding a sharpie to the spot he saved for him. The latter poked out his
tongue in concentration, drawing his eyebrows close together. Wonwoo tried fighting off the tugging at his lips, but he
couldn’t – Mingyu made it impossible.

That night, Mingyu was the first to fall asleep, knocking out after 10:30. His body was spread out on his bed, limbs dangling
off the sides, and his face was squashed by the pillow underneath him. From the spare mattress Wonwoo was lying on, he
stared up at his friend and smiled again.

Wonwoo fell asleep not too long after that, his fingers ghosting over the spot Mingyu signed on his cast.
 ‘i know you’re a grade above me, but there’s no way i’m calling you hyung. you’re
WONWOO, my new best friend.
- mingyu! :)’

03
On his birthday, Wonwoo was the last person to wake up in the house, which was unusual since he was always one of the
first. He groaned awake to the sound of Chan blowing through two noisemakers at once while moving a hand clapper back
and forth. When Wonwoo opened his eyes, he squinted as they adjusted to the bright lighting. Chan was smiling,
noisemakers held between his top and bottom teeth. A green party hat was crookedly strapped to his head and a white shirt
with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WONWOO” written on it was covering his torso.

“Rise and shine, birthday guy!” Chan cheered, wiggling the hand clapper. “Happy 14th!”

Wonwoo grinned lazily, lifting his back off the bed and swinging his legs to the side. “Thanks, Dino,” he said, yawning
and stretching his arms out. “Where is everyone?”

Chan shrugged. “Somewhere. There’re too many people to keep track of.”

“So they aren’t home?”

“Nope,” Chan replied bluntly, shaking his head. “Maybe they’re buying your cake, but I don’t know.”

Wonwoo poked his head out from the bottom bunk and looked up, seeing a big lump on the mattress above his. “Is that
Minsuh?”

He heard a sniffle coming from the lump, and he automatically knew it was her. Pointing up, he looked at Chan with a
questioning face. His cousin sighed and whispered, “Her boyfriend broke up with her this morning,” in his ear.

There was no surprise in that, because everyone saw it coming. Seungcheol and Minsuh didn’t match well, anyway; they
were just… too much alike. Having so much in common probably made it boring for Seungcheol, but maybe not for
Minsuh. She was gullible to think that they’d last forever. At least they were together for seven months, which was way
longer than Wonwoo expected.

Wonwoo sighed as he got up and climbed to the edge of his bed, arms over the metal bars surrounding Minsuh. He placed
a hand on her shoulder, patting then shaking it to catch her attention. But being the stubborn teenager she was, she ignored
it.

“Hey,” Wonwoo murmured, “you okay?”

He saw Minsuh’s hair shake. “No.”

“Look, I know you and Seungcheol were together for a while, but believe me when I say that you’ll find someone else.”
Wonwoo tugged at the pink blanket folded above Minsuh’s body. “Rather than moping around, you should talk things out.
Don’t try to get him back – that probably won’t work any better than the break up – but be friends instead. I always saw
you guys better as friends rather than an actual couple.”

Minsuh peeked out from under her blanket, revealing her wet cheeks and glossy eyes. Snot was leaking out of her nose,
and Wonwoo tried not to pull the blanket over her head again because yikes. She looked like a mess.

“You’re fucking fourteen, Wonwoo,” Minsuh mumbled, sniffing back the snot. His face soured at the nasally sound. “How
do you make people feel better just by talking?”

“Did she just say a bad word?” Chan gasped from the floor.

Wonwoo looked back at his cousin, whispering, “Don’t turn out like your sister, Dino. Swearing is bad for your tongue.”
He knew Chan would one day start swearing, though. Everyone swears at one point of their lives, he thought, and he knew
that Chan’s innocence would flip as he grew up. Wonwoo didn’t swear at his age, unless “damn” and “crap” counted.
There was no use, however, if he rarely ever spoke to others, aside from Mingyu and his family members.

By the time Wonwoo got off the bunk and landed his feet on the floor, Minsuh had stopped crying. She was smiling,
actually, and Chan found it bothersome to see. Anyone would feel the same way after seeing her smile so widely, really.
It was terrifying.

The three of them spent the rest of the morning – or noon since it was past twelve – in the girls’ room. Chan had a small
list of things planned for Wonwoo written on a KFC napkin and did them all in order, his plans being: 1. Have Wonwoo
wear his handmade birthday hat 2. Play “pin the tail on the birthday boy” 3. Challenge each other at a game of UNO and
4. Twister, which none of them won because they all fell at once.

Chan seemed to enjoy the small party more than Wonwoo or Minsuh did. The two didn’t want to ruin his happiness, so
they let him take part in everything other than UNO because that game was what turned them into competitive beasts and
sometimes tore family members apart for a few days. There was no cake – yet, at least – but Wonwoo didn’t mind as long
as his younger cousin remained happy.

By the time it was a little past two, the rest of their family had arrived with presents and a cake decorated in chocolate
frosting and strawberries. His family never did that before, considering how many birthdays they usually had to go through.
The expense was sometimes too much, so they always stuck to Wonwoo’s mom’s homemade cupcakes that often tasted
like plain cocoa powder or were burnt on the outside. As for presents, he got used to receiving birthday cards from his
elders and drawings from his younger cousins.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WONWOO!” they all mused as the birthday boy stood frozen in the middle of the living room,
definitely surprised by the gesture.

Smiling a little, he said, “I don’t know what to say…”

His mom grinned, wheeling in a brand new bike topped with a red bow at the front. “You don’t have to say anything. All
of this is yours, for always putting up with our craziness.”

“And for never getting in trouble at school,” said his dad.

“And for rubbing my back when I’m sad,” his uncle piped in, smiling for the first time since he moved in the house.

Minsuh mumbled, “Also for giving good advice.”

“And for being the bestest friend in the whole world!”

Wonwoo jumped back at the last voice, seeing Mingyu appear from behind the couch.

“Are you–”

“–the one who planned this?” Mingyu grinned and formed two handguns with his fingers. “Heck yeah I am.”

All Wonwoo could do was blink. Knowing that his best friend was the one behind the plans explained so much, especially
since he and Chan had been talking more often the past week. They were planning the surprise this whole time, and he
was oblivious to that. He felt grateful, yet in some ways betrayed for it being kept away from him for so long.

Mingyu climbed over the couch to walk to Wonwoo, pulling his hand. “Let’s go ride our bikes together,” he whispered,
“I have something to show you.”

Wonwoo glanced over at his parents, who were both giving smiles and nods of approval, then back at Mingyu. He was
still trying to process what happened, and he didn’t even get to open all of his presents yet. As much as he wanted to see
what he got, he also wanted to storm off with Mingyu more. He shrugged sheepishly, but his friend took it as a yes.

They ran out the house and rode off on their bikes, Wonwoo’s family watching them leave at the front door. The decorative
bow was still stuck to the front of Wonwoo’s bike and eventually flew off at how fast he was pedaling. He and Mingyu
were hollering out random noises and laughing their way down the road, turning a couple lefts and a right.
Mingyu started to slow down and made a complete stop in front of a place covered in faded greenery. Trees thick and
small crowded the area and the ankle length grass was hidden beneath a thin layer of leaves that’d fallen off their branches.
Mingyu got off his bike and dropped it behind a bush.

“C’mon,” he said breathlessly, already making his way to their destination, “it’s over there!”

Wonwoo clumsily placed his bike by Mingyu’s and ran to catch up. He almost lost him until he found Mingyu standing
by a large tree near the lake flocked by geese. For a while, he just stared at his friend and wondered what in the world he
was doing, but when a goose started honking from behind him, he screamed and ran faster than he ever could.

“Did Albert scare you?” Mingyu asked when Wonwoo collapsed on the ground, tired and out of breath.

“Who’s Albert?” he wheezed.

“The goose.” Mingyu pointed at the animal that waddled in front of them. “I named him after Einstein.”

“I don’t think I like Albert.” Wonwoo looked at the tree he and Mingyu were next to, finding planks of wood nailed to the
trunk that lead to a platform above. Looking up further, he saw a bridge that connected from that tree to an even bigger
one. On the bigger tree was an old-looking thing made of grandpa wood, and it had a telescope peeking out from a square
window. “Is that a tree house?” he asked, getting back up to his feet.

“Well what else would it be?” Mingyu began to climb up the tree plank by plank. Looking back down, he said, “Hurry,
before the sun goes down.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Wonwoo was terrified to climb up the tree, more so cross the bridge that looked
dangerously unstable and old. The feeling of wanting to pee his pants and cower away lingered on his skin, but there was
something in Mingyu’s smile that made him think ‘why the hell not’. So he manned up as much as a fourteen-year-old boy
could and followed his best friend up the tree. While crossing the bridge, Mingyu held Wonwoo’s hand, giving him some
sense of assurance and security. Wonwoo felt safe.

As Mingyu moved the sliding door to the side, he allowed Wonwoo to enter the tree house first. The architecture of it was
definitely old, telling from the creaking floorboards and unappealing wooden walls covered by posters of classic films,
which were probably used to make everything look less ugly. A round rug was placed in the middle over a set of foam
puzzle mats that stuck together, most likely there for safety reasons. Stacks of board games were neatly placed in one
corner while a storage chest stood beside it. What caught Wonwoo’s eye the most was the picture frame crookedly nailed
on the wall with nothing actually being framed; it was just a frame.

“There isn’t much for now” – Mingyu moved past Wonwoo and sat on the rug Indian style – “but the more we hang out
here, the better it’ll be.”

Wonwoo sat in front of Mingyu, asking, “How did you find this place?”

“While you were staying after school one day, I got bored and started to wander around. Albert was chasing me and I tried
to run away, which got me here. The tree house was really cool and I thought it would be something you’d like, too, but I
was afraid it belonged to someone else.” Mingyu grinned from ear to ear, leaning closer. Wonwoo leaned back for more
personal space. “To my – our – luck, nobody even goes here! I stopped by every day after school to check and never saw
anyone.”

“So… it’s basically ours now?”

Nodding, Mingyu gripped onto Wonwoo’s shoulders and squeezed. “Awesome, right?”

Wonwoo smiled. “Awesome.”

The two spent the rest of the afternoon in the tree house together, challenging each other to a game of Monopoly. Wonwoo
was the top hat and Mingyu was the dog (not surprising at all since he loved dogs, probably more than he loved Wonwoo).
It was fun, and to make it even better, Mingyu let Wonwoo win at Monopoly because he was tired of losing.

At sundown, Mingyu showed Wonwoo his Polaroid camera that was on top of the storage chest. He pointed at the empty
picture frame, explaining how they’d take pictures together all the time and post them up for memories in the future.
 Wonwoo didn’t know what to do on their first picture, so he didn’t make a face. Mingyu called him boring and poked his
side to make him smile, then quickly took the picture. It turned out better than they both expected.

By the time the stars and the moon were out, lighting the dark sky, Mingyu turned on an LED lamp. Wonwoo watched as
his friend opened the storage chest and pulled out a pillow covered in a Spongebob pillowcase, throwing it on the carpet
next to him.

“Are you ready to see what your birthday present from me is?”

“You were part of the surprise,” Wonwoo said, eyebrows drawn together. “Are you saying there’s more?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes as he laid down beside Wonwoo, his head on the pillow. “That was just something nice I did. This,
my friend, is your real birthday present. Now” – He patted on the remaining space of the pillow – “lay down and look up.”

Complying with his friend’s request, the birthday boy laid flat on his back beside Mingyu. The pillow made just enough
room for them, but if they weren’t shoulder to shoulder, one of them would’ve fallen off. Wonwoo thought it was okay to
be in this position because Mingyu was warm, and he hated the cold.

Above them, Wonwoo noticed, was an open sunroof. He never noticed it before. It exposed the midnight blue of the sky
and the shine of the stars. The moon looked bigger than usual that night, dawning over the city. He wondered if he’d be
able to see it if Mingyu hadn’t shown him. The answer was clear, though, that no – he wouldn’t have seen it, not even
through the window of his shared bedroom. Maybe he and Mingyu were the only one’s who noticed the sky in all its
wonders.

Wonwoo whispered, “Wow…”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Mingyu asked rhetorically. “The first time I saw it, I wished you were there with me.” Wonwoo
turned his head to the side, listening closely as his friend stared up with brown eyes reflecting the glistening stars. “Now
that you’re here, it makes waiting for this day worthwhile.”

“Thank you,” Wonwoo murmured. “This is better than a bike and chocolate cake.”

“Happy birthday to you, Wonwoo.”

It wasn’t Mingyu’s birthday, but Wonwoo thought that anything that was his belonged to his best friend, too.

He faced up and closed his eyes. “Happy birthday to us.”

04

February 11 , 2011
th

On the Friday before Valentine’s Day, Wonwoo was shoving past other students to meet up with Mingyu. His best
friend had sent him a text a few seconds before the bell rang, and the moment he got it, he began running faster
than the time he did to buy the last carton of milk.

From: Mingyu
To: Wonwoo
I NEED YOUR HELP ASAP

There wasn’t much information provided in the text, but he took the “ASAP” part a little too seriously. Some
students complained and others told him to watch where he was going, all to which he hollered out curt and
insincere apologies at. His tie was untucked from his black sweater vest and tailing from the back of his neck, one
side of his blazer falling over his shoulder. By the time he was outside, he found Mingyu standing by a lamppost
with a bouquet of flowers in one hand. Wonwoo slowed down until he made a complete stop, but felt his heart
accelerate. Who were the flowers for?
“WEE-KEE-KEE!” Mingyu hollered from where he was, using their not-so-secret friendship call that was used
whenever they needed to find each other.

Wonwoo held his hands around his mouth, shouting a, “WA-KA-KAW!” with a voice crack at the end.
Embarrassed, he tucked his tie back in his sweater vest and cleared his throat, fast walking to Mingyu with his head
faced downward.

“Dude,” Mingyu said sternly when Wonwoo was just a foot away from him, his face more serious than usual. He
gripped the sides of Wonwoo’s shoulders and stared at him intently. “I think it’s time that I finally confess.”

Wonwoo gulped, feeling nervous beads of sweat forming at his temples. “Con… fess?”

Nodding, Mingyu said, “That’s what these flowers are for. I need you.”

Wonwoo started stuttering um’s and uh’s. “I-I know we’re close and all, but I don’t think I feel the–”

“THERE SHE IS!”

He grunted a choked “oomph” when Mingyu shoved the bouquet of flowers at him. He watched as the younger
held his phone in front of him, fixing the fringe of his shaggy hair. There was a crooked grin on his face that made
Wonwoo gulp again.

“You asked me to meet up with you here?” a female voice said.

Wonwoo turned. In front of him and Mingyu was the student council historian, Jihye. She was pretty for a girl
going through puberty, not a single pimple evident on her baby-smooth face, and always wore eyeliner that was
enough to make her eyes stand out more. Her hair was tied back into a high ponytail that day, a blue ribbon
securing it. Braces held her teeth together, but it was something she seemed to pull off nonetheless. In all honesty,
Wonwoo was envious of her – and he was a dude.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” Jihye said, waving slightly, “are those flowers for your Valentine?”

He blinked at her then down at the flowers. “Uh, I don’t have a Valentine. But Mingyu–”

“Speaking of Valentine,” Mingyu interrupted, shoving Wonwoo to the side and taking the flowers out of his
possession. Wonwoo almost snapped at him for almost making him fall, but the younger's ecstatic expression
stopped him. He rolled his eyes instead, “do you happen to have one?”

Jihye gaped, her cheeks turned into a slight shade of red, and it definitely wasn’t from the cold winter air. “Well…
no, but–”

“WILL YOU BE MINE?”

Wonwoo noticed how the historian looked taken aback and facepalmed himself, whispering, “Jesus, Mingyu.”

“You’re very straightforward.” Jihye pinched the hem of her skirt, shifting awkwardly. “Are you always like this?”

Wonwoo said, “Yes.”

Mingyu said, “No.”

They replied at the same time, and Mingyu glared at Wonwoo for opening his mouth. The older shrugged,
mouthing, “It’s true.”
 “Mingyu, I kind of like–” Jihye paused, glancing over at Wonwoo with hesitation for a second before smiling shyly
at the other again. “You know what? Why not. I’ll be your Valentine.”

The two flinched back when Mingyu stuck up his arms in triumph, almost hitting Wonwoo in the face, and cheered
for himself. Wonwoo thought that people usually did something with their Valentine the day they’re asked out, but
instead, Mingyu started running off and congratulating himself while screaming to people that – yes, the girl of his
dreams was his Valentine. Worried that his best friend would possibly get hit by a car or jumped by a gang of
thugs, Wonwoo politely excused himself from Jihye and chased after Mingyu.

“Mingyu, wait u– Oh my, God! Don’t scare the scrubs!”

February 14 , 2011
th

Wonwoo woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing from beside him. Hardly able to open his eyes, he squinted
and mindlessly answered his phone. “Hello?” he greeted groggily, rubbing his eye.

“Wonwoo!”

He pulled the phone back and checked the caller ID, reading that it was Mingyu. As he placed the phone back to
his ear, he said, “Dude. Why.”

“You’re going on a date tonight.”

“I’m going on a what?”

“Date.”

“Date?”

“Date.”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Wonwoo sighed and sat upright, “and I don’t want my first date to be a blind date.”

In two seconds flat, there was loud knocking on his window that caught his attention. After crawling to the corner
of his bunk bed, Wonwoo pulled the vertical blinds to the side and peered out. Mingyu was standing outside with a
childish grin and his phone pressed to his ear.

“You’re gonna wake up the kids,” Wonwoo whispered with his hand swatting the air, signalling for his friend to
scram. “Leave!”

Mingyu pouted. “But” – he held up a tuxedo fresh from the dry cleaners – “I borrowed a tux for you. We even have
matching ties!”

Wonwoo squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sound of frustration. “Mingyu, you can’t just suddenly tell me I have
a date on the day it’s scheduled.”

“My mom said that there’d be milkshakes…”

At that, Wonwoo felt his ears perk. He opened one eye and slowly asked, “What kind..?”

“Oreo milkshakes with extra whipped cream and a cherry saved for your best friend.”
Damn Mingyu and his knowledge of Wonwoo’s favorite foods.

“Fine.” Wonwoo got up to open the front door. “But I’m not paying for anything.”

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Their double date was scheduled at around noon, Johnny Rockets marked as their date spot. Wonwoo questioned
the tuxedos they wore, but Mingyu hushed him by shoving mints in his best friend’s mouth. At least he didn’t have
to worry about bad breath.

Jihye and a girl Wonwoo couldn’t recognize were standing in front of Johnny Rockets. The historian wore a floral
sundress with a cardigan that hung over her shoulders, a headband pushing back her dark hair. Crossing her body
was a small purse that matched her nude flats. She looked presentable, unlike the person she was standing by.

“Who’s that?” Wonwoo whispered to Mingyu as they approached the two. He eyed the girl’s appearance, noting
how she was covered in black from head to toe and had the ends of her hair dyed in teal. “Is that my date?”

Mingyu nodded. “Yup. Her name is Yuna.”

No way in hell was Wonwoo going to have some punk rock chick be his first date. He abruptly turned the opposite
direction he was walking in, moving towards the Honda Mingyu’s mom was in. Mingyu pulled Wonwoo's arm
back, making the other whine.

“It’s too late to bail, isn’t it?”

“C’mon,” Mingyu begged, “please? I’ll make a fool of myself if you aren’t here.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo murmured, “You’re still a fool when you’re with me.”

A small, closed smile formed on Mingyu’s lips. “But you fix the trouble I cause.” He tugged Wonwoo's sleeve.
“Okay?”

“I hate you.”

“Say it back.”

"Say what back?"

Mingyu bounced his eyebrows up and down teasingly. “Say 'okay.’”

The older rolled his eyes then cringed a little. “O...kay.”

“Close enough.”

They continued the walk, and with every step they took the prayers in Wonwoo’s mind got louder and louder in
hopes of Yuna having a personality less dark than she appeared to be. Jihye smiled when the boys arrived,
accepting the macaroni necklace Mingyu made for her. As the two were being lovey-dovey and all, Wonwoo was
stuck standing in front of Yuna with nothing to offer. He chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head,
introducing himself with the other hand stretched out. She glanced at his hand, but kept her arms crossed and
continued chewing the chunk of bubblegum in her mouth.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” Jihye said after putting on the macaroni necklace. “I like your tie; it matches Mingyu’s.”
“His idea, not mine.”

Mingyu nudged his best friend with his elbow. “Shut up,” he mumbled.

“Anyway, this is my cousin, Yuna.” Jihye pointed over at the gum-chewing girl beside her, who was staring at
Wonwoo with eyes that could kill – and not in a good way. “Yuna, this is Wonwoo, your… date.”

Two smacks of chewing later and she finally said, “You’re hot.”

Let me die. “Uh, thanks.”

And of course, Mingyu was oblivious to the awkward tension between everyone and became the first to break it.
“Cool! Let's go in; I'm starving.”

A hostess escorted the group to a booth at the corner of the restaurant. Mingyu and Wonwoo sat side by side and
across their dates, and they looked like total opposites from anyone's viewpoint. Jihye smiled as she scooted to the
corner; Yuna removed the gum from her mouth and stuck it beneath the table. Wonwoo gagged in disgust.

Mingyu and Jihye had already started a conversation about school related topics, whereas Wonwoo was still
resisting the need to run away, intimidated by Yuna's stare. The intensity of her thick, black eyeliner brought out
the white parts of her eyes in the most terrifying way possible. In some ways he was jealous of his friend and his
date, but mostly because Jihye seemed like the perfect first girlfriend (or date, whichever they called it; Wonwoo
didn't know the difference).

"So… what music do you listen to?" Wonwoo asked nervously.

Yuna shrugged. "The good kind."

"Do you listen to–"

"Blood On The Dance Floor."

Wonwoo faked a smile and chuckled awkwardly, leaning towards Mingyu. "Is it okay for me to leave now?" he
asked pleadingly. "I just remembered I have geometry homework to finish."

"No."

"I really hate you."

"Just this once," Mingyu said, holding up his pinky. "I swear."

Looking down at his friend's pinky, Wonwoo gave in and rolled his eyes. He wrapped his own around Mingyu's
and shook their hands. "This is the only date you'll ever drag me into."

"Don't count on that."

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Mingyu and Jihye decided to share a milkshake, but kept it “safe” by not drinking it at the same time. Yuna offered
to share like they did, though she didn't sound totally sincere to that idea. Wonwoo politely objected and ordered an
oreo shake for himself (because who would ever think of sharing something so delicious).
When it was Jihye's turn to drink from her and Mingyu's shared milkshake, Wonwoo pinched the stem of his cherry
and shoved it in Mingyu's mouth. Taken by surprise, Mingyu made a muffled sound and widened his eyes. The
moment he realized it was Wonwoo practically feeding him, though, he hummed in satisfaction and had a small
smile trapping the cherry in his mouth.

“That cherry could've been for your date,” Yuna said, using her finger to whip out a glob of whipped cream, “but I
guess Mingyu works, too.”

Wonwoo moved his hand away from Mingyu's mouth and left the stem on a napkin. “Oh... uh, sorry, Yuna. I didn’t
think you’d want me to do that.”

"Hm."

There were a few beats of awkward silence that made Wonwoo shift in his seat uncomfortably. Jihye let out a
lighthearted laugh to release the tension, saying, “So... Mingyu! Any other plans? You said you had some.”

Mingyu grinned, pointing at her as he replied, "Two words: Dog. Park."

Because of his fear of dogs – especially the big ones – Wonwoo was quick to change the location. “Rollerskating!
We're going roller skating.”

“But–”

“I love rollerskating!” Jihye gasped.

Mingyu's smile wavered slightly as he looked at his date, some disappointment shown through his expression. “I
guess we're going rollerskating then.”

And when they got to the rollerskating rink, they were welcomed by mainstream pop music and walls colored in
neon streaked over navy blue. Much of it was a bit overwhelming for Wonwoo's taste in scenery, but he thought
that maybe stepping out of his comfort zone would be beneficial to his social life. The four went on with paying for
admission and renting their roller skates.

As he tied the laces of his shoes, Wonwoo glanced up and saw Mingyu already rolling around the carpeted floor.
When their eyes met, Wonwoo smiled, only to end up watching the younger clumsily trip over a bench. Wonwoo
cringed at the loud thud that sounded when his body made contact with the floor. Mingyu held up a thumb to
ensure he was okay.

“I'm good,” he groaned, “I'm good.”

Jihye helped Mingyu up, laughing when he slipped again. By the time he was back on his feet, Mingyu grinned and
took a deep breath. The sight of seeing Mingyu happy with a girl like Jihye left Wonwoo feeling at ease, and he
hoped that his friend’s happiness wouldn't go away.

“Skate with me,” Yuna said as she rolled past Wonwoo, grabbing his hand while riding away.

Wonwoo sputtered, clumsily following along and trying not to fall over. The moment he and Yuna were in the rink,
their fun had begun. As Wonwoo conversed with the other, he learned that she wasn't as bad as she appeared to be.
Her lack of emotions made her sarcasm witty, and their love for reading gave them a connection. What he didn't
notice while talking to Yuna was the amount of times he mentioned Mingyu. It seemed like he always found some
way to bring up his best friend, even during the most unnecessary times.

“You talk about Mingyu a lot,” Yuna mentioned. Her body wasn't moving, but her skates allowed her to follow
Wonwoo in suit.
“I do?”

Yuna nodded. “Mhm.”

Wonwoo spun around and started skating backwards. "I never really noticed. But now that you mention it, I kind of
do."

“He means a lot to you, doesn't he?”

Wonwoo glanced to the side, seeing Mingyu struggle on his skates; his body bent at a slight angle with his arms
spread out like wings to balance his left and right sides. Wonwoo smiled. “Of course,” he answered, “he's my best
friend.”

“Right.” Yuna started moving her feet to catch up to Wonwoo, holding his hand once they were side-to-side. He
felt a bit awkward about it, but didn't bother letting go. “Can I tell you something?”

Wonwoo turned so they'd face the same direction and switched their hands, nodding. “Of course.”

After sucking in a breath, she said, “First of all, I'm not some goth chick; I just faked everything so you wouldn't
like me.” Wonwoo nodded, showing that he understood. “Also, Jihye only agreed to being Mingyu's Valentine
because she thought it'd bring you guys closer.”

“But Mingyu and I are already close–”

“No, I mean you and her.”

Wonwoo’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Yuna’s lips pursed into a thin line as her eyes wandered around nervously,
guilt and regret glazing over her eyes. Thinking that she was going to cry, Wonwoo moved his hold to her wrist and
twirled her around to have her body reflecting his.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked, panicked and sincerely worried for his date. “Why are you suddenly so sad?”

She laughed lightly and shook her head, and she looked prettier like that – like that goth thing wasn’t even there.
To assure Wonwoo that there wasn't anything to worry about, she patted his bicep. “Ah, I see why she likes you
now,” she said, lips pursed again. "It's just that– I feel bad for Mingyu; he seems to like her a lot.”

“He's not even fifteen yet, so it'll probably just be a small crush for now. I'm not too worried about him.”

“What if he finds out that Jihye likes you instead of him?”

“Everyone likes Mingyu,” the male pointed out, smiling a little. “She'll get over me, like how you'll get over me
after this date.”

Yuna scoffed. “It's not like I wanted to go on this date. I mean, who'd ever want to dress like this?”

Wonwoo laughed, his smile fading after. “Do you regret tagging along?”

Wonwoo didn't know what answer to expect, especially after knowing that a lot of their blind date was a lie (with
the fake, gothic persona she displayed and lack of actual interest in Wonwoo). He hoped that she'd say she didn't
regret a single thing that happened; however, there was another part of him that wouldn't mind if she did. Yuna was
terrifying at first, but first impressions never presented someone too accurately, after all. After finally having an
enjoyable conversation with each other, Wonwoo realized that Yuna would make a good friend.

“No, I'm glad I met you and Mingyu.” Yuna smiled, Wonwoo copying after her, and linked their arms together as
they continued one more rotation around the rink.
“That's a relief; I thought you'd hate me.”

"You haven't done anything that would make me hate you," she said, "unless you count the time you didn't give me
your cherry."

Scratching the back of his neck, Wonwoo nervously replied, "Heh... sorry."

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Before making their way outside the rollerskating rink, Mingyu whined about his butt feeling sore, all thanks to the
countless falls he made on his rented skates. Jihye was rubbing his lower back to comfort the younger, although it
didn't do much to soothe what would become a bruised ass. Tired of his obnoxious and over exaggerated moans of
“misery,” Wonwoo crouched down in front of his best friend, tugging up his slim dress pants so they wouldn't
constrict his knees from bending, and prepared himself for the weight that was going to be put upon him.

“Get on,” Wonwoo said, sighing. When Mingyu didn't move, the other peered over his shoulder. “Get on or else
you're walking.”

At that threat, Mingyu didn't hesitate to cling to his best friend's back and hook his arms around the other's neck.
Wonwoo groaned at the weight, because damn was Mingyu heavy, but managed to stand on his knees nonetheless.
Due to the younger's extremely longer legs, which seemed to extend for miles, Mingyu wrapped them until he was
able to lock Wonwoo's torso between his Indian-style leg position.

Yuna teased about how cute they looked, making Wonwoo's cheeks heat up. He mumbled a “shut up,” crinkling his
nose out of habit. Mingyu, on the other hand, smiled until his eyes turned into dark crescents. He snuggled closer to
Wonwoo's back, which made him struggle more (and blush harder, but he pushed aside that thought).

Waiting outside for Mingyu's mom took longer than expected, and the ache on Wonwoo's back made him set the
younger down on a nearby bench. Mingyu had fallen asleep during their short walk out the rink, completely
knocked out and snoring lightly. Yuna stepped aside to call her parents, leaving the other two with each other's
company.

“You treat Mingyu very well,” Jihye said, filling the silence between them, “and I admire that.”

Wonwoo smiled, saying, “He's done a lot for me; this is just me paying him back.”

“Do you think you guys will be together for a long time?”

There was slight and unexpected hesitation that grew from that question. Were they going to last? Wonwoo was
grateful for every second he'd spent with Mingyu, yet there was doubt building – doubt of Mingyu bothering to
keep up with Wonwoo's boring and reserved self. It was a thought that should've been disposed of, yet Wonwoo
couldn't bring himself to do so. He was scared.

"Positive," he lied, smiling. "We'll never leave each other."

Jihye nodded and looked down at her hands, which were placed on her lap. Wonwoo sat on the small space left on
the bench next to Mingyu's waist, while Jihye sat at his feet. Their distance between each other was relatively close,
the only thing separating them being Mingyu's knees.

“I have a confession to make–”

“You like me.”

The class historian's shoulders tensed at what Wonwoo said, her cheeks brushed with faint crimson. “How did you
know?”

“Yuna told me everything.”

Jihye clenched her fists in annoyance. “Yuna, I swear.”

Wonwoo laughed then said, “It's fine if you like me, Jihye. I feel sorry to admit that I don't exactly feel the same,
but it feels nice knowing that if anyone's to like me, it's you.” Jihye tightened her lips to prevent herself from
smiling too wide, looking down at her painted nails. “You shouldn't have said yes to Mingyu as a way to get closer
to me, though.”

“Ah…” Jihye glanced over at Mingyu, who was still knocked out from exhaustion. “Yeah, I really shouldn't have.
It seemed like a good opportunity, but I feel guilty for leading him on like this. I care about him; I really do. Liking
him romantically is out of lines, though.”

“Everyone likes Mingyu,” Wonwoo repeated, using the same words he said to Yuna.

Smiling sweetly, Jihye murmured, “Yeah. Everyone does.”

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“Wonwoo?” Mingyu groaned.

The two were walking home together – well, more or less on the walking part. Mingyu was on Wonwoo's back
again as he carried the younger of the two down the sidewalk. Walking in the cold was almost like suffering hell
without the fire, and ice replacing it. There were moments when Wonwoo complained and insisted on just dropping
Mingyu on the spot, but he knew that he'd be screwed if that happened.

Mingyu's mom was busy dealing with Seungcheol, who was caught sneaking out of the house for the second time
that week. Wonwoo tried calling his family, but was left on voicemail, so they had to walk home themselves.

“My butt hurts more than earlier, Wonwoo.”

Feeling sympathetic towards his whiny friend, Wonwoo made the decision to carry him home after Jihye and
Yuna’s rides had arrived. While carrying Mingyu, though, Wonwoo couldn't stop wondering why he decided to put
his best friend on his back in the first place, in spite of Mingyu's capability of walking. He was practically made of
bricks, and it felt like he was only getting heavier the further Wonwoo walked. Wonwoo was a small, fragile boy
with barely any muscle in his body, but his best friend was the opposite of that. He participated in sports, was
always the first to finish the mile run in PE and never spent his days in bed unless he was sick. Mingyu should be
carrying me, Wonwoo thought.

Wonwoo had to suffer listening to Mingyu's version of Can't Take My Eyes Off of You for two blocks, and the
intentional voice cracks made the oldest cringe. Thankfully, Mingyu started to fall asleep again on the third block.

“Wonwoo-ah.”

“What, Mingyu?”

Mingyu sighed. “I know that Jihye likes you” – Wonwoo's eyes went wide, and his pace slowed – “but I'm okay
with that, because you're really nice and pretty hot, too.”
 Flustered, Wonwoo stuttered, “W-Whatever.”

“And thank you for carrying me,” Mingyu murmured sleepily, nuzzling his face closer to the back of Wonwoo's
neck. “I'll carry you one day.”

"That day may never happen because I'm not a clutz like you," Wonwoo teased, laughing at the end. Mingyu bit
Wonwoo's shoulder, a wince coming in return. "Ow! Don't bite me!"

"Hm."

Wonwoo felt Mingyu's hot breath heat the nape of his neck. He furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Gyu, are you
falling asleep again?”

He felt the other nod, a hum vibrating the meeting point of his neck and shoulder. “Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Because even though it's freezing today, you still have a warm body.” Mingyu wrapped his arms tighter. “You
probably have the warmest back of all warm backs.”

Wonwoo smiled, his heart feeling light. “You say the craziest things, Kim Mingyu.”

When they arrived at Mingyu's house, the two friends fell asleep in the living room; Wonwoo on the reclining chair
and Mingyu on the couch. Seungcheol walked in the room and found them snoring peacefully, and all he could
think was, Thanks Wonwoo – for helping my little brother on days I screw up. I owe you.

05
July 5th, 2011

While at the dining table, munching on his mother’s homemade kimbap, Mingyu had a sudden epiphany. He was
mid-chew into his food, the tips of his chopsticks cornering the edge of his lips. The sudden pause caused the other
two at the table to divert their attention to him and wait for Mingyu to say something.

“Wonwoo is always there for me,” he said, staring off into space, “he carried me home, went on a double date that I
forced him into, keeps me warm – he was even there when I asked Jihye on a date. I need to do the same to him,
too. I need to protect him at all costs and make sure he’s okay.”

Mingyu’s mother raised her eyebrow, questioning her son’s randomness. She looked over at Seungcheol, who was
grinning at Mingyu and casually reaching over to hold a piece of kimbap between his chopsticks.

“Mom” – Mingyu snapped his head up to look at her, making his mother flinch back slightly – “can I join a boxing
class?”

Seungcheol began coughing on his dinner at that, abruptly dropping his chopsticks to reach for a glass of water.
Their mother leaned over to rub Seungcheol’s back, then looked at Mingyu.

“Boxing?” she questioned. “Really?”

Mingyu nodded, earnest.

“Why the hell would you want to join boxing?” Seungcheol managed to choke out, thus coughing again afterwards.
 Mingyu shrugged, saying, “Wonwoo is pretty defenseless because he’s so shy. Maybe if I knew how to fight, I
could, you know, protect him from anything bad.”

“Are you sure?” his mother asked.

The youngest of the three nodded sharply. “I’m positive.”

August 8th, 2011

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Let’s go somewhere later!!

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
where?

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Sshhh.. just let it happen

“What’re you doing texting someone this early in the day,” Minsuh asked, her head hanging upside down from the
top bunk, hair swinging a little. “Is it Mingyu again?”

Wonwoo nodded, setting his phone down beside him. “Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

“Not much, really,” Wonwoo replied truthfully. “He just told me to go somewhere with him.”

Minsuh furrowed her eyebrows. “But… where?”

“He didn’t say.”

“I swear” – Minsuh lifted her head up and climbed down to the floor, sitting on the toy chest between their bunk
and the next – “Mingyu’s always up to something weird, like that time he said you guys would go to the water
park, but ended up taking you to an actual park.”

Wonwoo remembered that day clearly, considering it only happened a month ago. They planned to go to the water
park, which got Wonwoo hyped since he’d never been to one. He was prepared with all the water park essentials he
needed, but when Mingyu took him to the local playground a block away from his house, Wonwoo huffed. He
should’ve seen it coming, yet he didn’t.

Nonetheless, they had fun. Mingyu filled six buckets with water from the water fountain, and even though it took
forever to accomplish, they were able to fill them all. They took turns sliding down a slide – one of them spilling
water from behind as the other slid down. Their day ended in a water gun fight, in which Mingyu won because
Wonwoo ran out of water.

“I would have won, you know.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. I’m just too good.”

Wonwoo laughed after reminiscing back to that day. “We had fun anyway.”
“You did seem pretty happy when you came home,” Minsuh pointed out. “I’m happy to know that you weren’t too
disappointed. I never know what to expect when it comes to Mingyu, you know?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll go shower and get ready for whatever he has planned.”

Minsuh waved as Wonwoo got up and headed towards the bathroom to get ready. “Don’t use my shampoo!”

He didn't listen and used it anyway.

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Wonwoo and Mingyu sat in the back of Seungcheol’s cheap Volvo as he drove them to wherever it was they were
heading. Rap music blasted through the speakers, vibrating the entire vehicle. It was what the “cool kids” did those
days, so of course Seungcheol would join the bandwagon.

“My butt is still vibrating,” Mingyu complained as they stepped out the car. “Isn’t yours?”

Wonwoo replied, “No, but my ears feel tingly.”

“That’s the feeling you have after listening to good music!” Seungcheol said, roughly patting Wonwoo’s back.

“I doubt it, hyung.” Mingyu rolled his eyes and swatted his brother’s hand away from Wonwoo’s back. “We’ll see
you after training.”

Seungcheol began walking backwards, saluting the two. “Later, guys.”

Wonwoo smiled and waved goodbye. Turning back around, he tilted his head up to see where they were. He
squinted as he looked up at the building in front of them, reading the sign that spelled out Big Dog Boxing.
Although the windows were tinted, Wonwoo could still see the silhouettes of training equipment and people inside.
He looked at Mingyu, pointing at the building.

“Hm? Oh!” Mingyu grinned. “Yeah, I’m joining boxing.”

“…What.”

“Boxing.”

“But, why?”

“To become” – Mingyu puffed out his chest and pounded it with his fist – “invincible.”

Wonwoo laughed, then dropped his expression. Mingyu gulped. “I’m serious. How long have you been taking
classes?”

“About a month?”

“And you never told me?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise," he replied, winking and clicking his tongue.

While shaking his head, Wonwoo sighed in defeat. Boxing lessons explained the gradual bulkiness of Mingyu's
biceps and newfound callouses on his hands that felt uncomfortable to touch whenever they made contact. It's
never been questioned before, though, because Wonwoo simply thought it was puberty doing its job.
He dismissed any opposing arguments he had against the idea of Mingyu taking a class centered in fighting, and
allowed his best friend to lead the way. On their way in, Wonwoo was greeted by the foul smell of sweat mixed
with generically branded deodorant. Mingyu lead him to the back, where two other people were standing, both
looking at approximately their age.

"Hansol!" Mingyu exclaimed, extending his arm out.

The stranger, who Wonwoo assumed was named “Hansol” from Mingyu's greeting, stood out. Rather than the
common Korean features one would have, Hansol leaned more towards the Caucasian side. While going over the
stranger's thin lips and polished brunet hair that fairly resembled a brown belt, Wonwoo began to question if he
really was Korean in the first place.

Next to Hansol was someone with dyed blond hair that naturally swept to the side. He was average in size – height
being not too different from Wonwoo's – and his button nose was tempting to poke. He gave off an impression of
being built up by cuteness and sweets; however, the setting they were in made Wonwoo reconsider that thought.

"Mingyu!" Hansol called back, welcoming the other with a pat of their hands and a fist bump. When they pulled
apart, he looked over at Wonwoo and smiled. "New guy?"

Mingyu shook his head and scrunched his nose, saying, "Nah, this is my friend, Wonwoo." He swung an arm
around Wonwoo's shoulders and yanked him closer. "I brought him here to watch today's practice."

Hansol and Wonwoo were acquainted with each other after sharing generic introductions, thus leading to the
introduction of the second stranger as well. His name was Minghao, and was apparently a student that'd recently
moved in from China to live with his aunt and uncle. He mentioned how he took boxing for a little over two years,
and wanted to continue during his stay in Korea. When Mingyu asked about his bleached hair, Minghao grinned
and replied with, "I was dared to dye it, but ended up liking how it turned out." The four talked for quite a while;
about their random interests in each other and intently listening to Minghao's slow Korean. It was a conversation
they all mutually enjoyed.

Their trainer, a small man with a stern face, soon blew his whistle to begin their class, and they all split away from
the group. Wonwoo sat at the benches, quietly watching the other boys test their moves on punching bags and other
machines he didn't know the names of. He noted how easily tired Hansol got, panting after only a few set of
punches. The first twenty-three minutes went smoothly for the young boxer, yet as he went on, he looked more and
more pathetic. Constantly, Hansol was yelled at to push further and man up. It was useless, though, if he could
hardly lift an arm without it falling to his side again.

Minghao, on the other hand, was swift and agile, always striking at sudden moments. On one of the machines, the
Chinese boy hit in a flash, while also making them look like strong attacks. When it was his turn to practice on his
trainer, he was able to effortlessly dodge any move made towards him, similar to a leaf in the wind. "Whoa,"
Wonwoo whispered to himself, breathless. Minghao truly was an incredible boxer.

Turning to his right, Wonwoo caught Mingyu in the midst of practicing uppercuts and jabs, plain air being his
opponent. Mingyu appeared significantly more different than how he usually projected himself, telling from the
game face Wonwoo had never seen before. Beads of sour sweat were forming at the younger's temples, while his
chest rose with every momentary pause he made. The scene was amazing enough for Wonwoo to feel chills
skimming over his skin.

Mingyu's specialty, Wonwoo noticed, was strength and rapid thinking. The younger's veins would protrude slightly
on some punches, his nose scrunching at the same time. Wonwoo could feel the harsh contact made with the fifty-
kilogram punching bag, and winced when the bag flew just a bit. During Mingyu's training round with his coach, it
almost looked as if he were dancing around him; the way a foot extended out as his back hunched over, only to
repeat the same move in reverse. His reactions were quicker than anyone would ever think, which surprised
Wonwoo because of his best friend's clumsy personality.
Boxing brought out a side of Mingyu that Wonwoo felt uncomfortable to see; yet he enjoyed watching it happen all
at once.

By the time class had ended, all three boys were dismissed. Hansol was the first to leave, and he left with a subtle
nod as a goodbye. Wonwoo felt pity in his chest when he saw his new friend act so down because of a rough day of
training, but he didn't feel like he was close enough to comfort the other. The two other boxers and Wonwoo smiled
at Hansol as he walked out.

"Is Hansol always so... out of it?" Wonwoo asked the boys hesitantly.

Minghao shrugged slowly, his face showing some sense of sorry. "Unfortunately."

"Why?"

Mingyu and Minghao glanced over at each other, then back at Wonwoo. Mingyu Wonwoo's back, answering, "It's
complicated."

All Wonwoo could think was, ‘How complicated can it really be?’

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As always, Mingyu and Wonwoo spent time at the tree house whenever they could. In this case, after Mingyu's
boxing lesson, they realized that there was enough time for them to hang out at their favorite location. Albert was
by the lake when they arrived, and when the goose's head was facing a direction opposite to theirs, Mingyu and
Wonwoo ran as fast as they could to avoid getting attacked by the animal.

Upon reaching the tree house, they didn't really go inside; they remained outside, skipping rocks on the lake and
taking pictures of the unique ones with Mingyu's polaroid. Wonwoo didn't know this, but his best friend took more
pictures of him than of the rocks.

"Want me to teach you some boxing techniques?" asked Mingyu, while smiling down at a picture he'd taken of
Wonwoo attempting to cover the lens of the camera.

Wonwoo blinked in response to Mingyu's offer. Out of all the people Wonwoo knew, Mingyu was the one person
to perfectly understand Wonwoo's thoughts towards violence. He kept away from it, and hadn't seen much of it up
until that day at the boxing training center.

"I don't fight," Wonwoo said, hinting it as his final answer, "I read."

Mingyu smiled while rolling his eyes, pulling Wonwoo closer by the arm. "I mean teaching you some self-defense,
stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Wonwoo murmured. It only made Mingyu smile more.

He turned Wonwoo around by the shoulders, making their bodies face each other. Mingyu held up a basic position
for Wonwoo to copy after, in which he did after letting out a whine.

"First defense move is called 'blocking,’" Mingyu said. "You know what that is right?"

"Well, I can interpret what it means..."

"Close enough. So" – Mingyu shifted his position and shielded himself with both of his forearms covering much of
his upper body and face – "this is basically what it is. You protect yourself from attacks by cowering behind a wall
made of your own limbs."

Wonwoo laughed while getting into position. "You know, some people take the word, 'cower,' negatively."

"What other word am I supposed to use?" Mingyu questioned, holding up a hand afterwards to pause Wonwoo
from responding. "Don't answer that; you'll cite the whole dictionary."

They proceeded with their self-defense lesson, Mingyu teaching his best friend the basics of slipping, parrying and
dodging. Wonwoo turned out to be a lot better than Mingyu had expected, considering how he much of a fast
learner he was. An effervescent sense of pride fizzed inside Mingyu upon watching the other learn so quickly.

"Are you ready to do some real practice?" Mingyu asked. "You know, at a quicker pace."

Wonwoo bit his lip as he thought. "Nothing too quick, okay?"

"Okay."

Their first round was relatively slow, and even Wonwoo wished it were faster than the pace they were going at. It
wasn't much of an actual round, but more like another warm up, which they'd been doing for the past hour or so.
The mischievous smirk Mingyu supported made it obvious that he knew what he was doing. Wonwoo made a
mental scoff, calling him a tease internally.

By the second round, Mingyu became significantly quicker, catching Wonwoo by surprise. He launched his arm to
Wonwoo's right, making him flinch to the side instinctively. At the same time, while Wonwoo was congratulating
himself for slipping his opponent’s attack, a foot slipping under his own abruptly cut off his thoughts. He yelped in
surprise, naturally grabbing the closest thing to him for support. Unfortunately, Mingyu's arm was that closest
thing.

"Holy–" Mingyu shrieked, stopping mid-sentence when he and Wonwoo landed on the dry dirt.

Mingyu was able to save himself from colliding their chests, using his arms to support his weight. They were on
either side of Wonwoo's ears and caging him within that barrier. Because of the mild pain striking Wonwoo's back,
his eyes were shut tight and a groan was dragged out his lips. Mingyu laughed at his friend, lighthearted.

"What the heck, you little–" Wonwoo stopped his sentence from continuing on when his eyes opened, his breath
hitching at the close proximity he and Mingyu were in. The lids of his eyes revealed his irises more, making his
shock and surprise obvious. Ultimately, his cheeks began to burn with crimson.

Mingyu laughed again, saying, "Little what, huh?" He shook his head. "Be more aware of your surroundings; real
fights are even quicker than that, kid."

"I-I'm older than you," Wonwoo tried to snap back, but stuttered from the flustered mess he was.

The younger moved one hand from the ground and used it to squish Wonwoo's blushing cheeks together, specks of
dirt smearing to the older one's face.

"Yeah, but you look younger" – Mingyu smiled and laughed again – "and a bit cuter, to be honest."

With those words heard crystal clear, Wonwoo had never felt his heart beat so fast in the fifteen years he’d lived.
Before any reaction was made – although Wonwoo probably couldn't really react due to the agitated state he was in
– Mingyu grabbed the Polaroid from beside them and snapped a quick picture of the other. Glancing down at the
finished product, Mingyu's smile closed, still curving at the edges. Wonwoo wanted to capture that moment, too, so
 he did, stealing the Polaroid away from Mingyu. He didn't even bother looking at the end product; Wonwoo just
wanted to catch that moment in time, because God – did Mingyu look beautiful.

06
November 18th, 2011

Despite being best friends for a seemingly long time, Wonwoo realized that he and Mingyu had never shared anything
personal with each other. Wonwoo never told the younger about his fear of public speaking and big dogs, and he’d never
thought of telling Mingyu about his past experiences that were either good or bad. The lack of effort they spent in getting
to know each other never improved, and Wonwoo never realized that until the rainy Friday of November eighteenth.

Wonwoo was sulking in the rain by the bus stop – not because of the personal issue with Mingyu, but because the aura
surrounding him didn't feel right (with that thought, the fifteen year-old could hear his best friend's voice say “Why not
left?”). There was something about that afternoon that made Wonwoo mourn over nothing, and he wasn't sure if it was the
darkness of the water filled clouds floating above the city, or the soreness stressing every muscle in his body. The vacancy
of the streets promoted the empty feeling, along with the chilly, moist air. The rain poured then went away occasionally,
only to return once again. Wonwoo enjoyed and was appreciative of the depressing weather since he hadn't seen it in a
while. Regardless of his appreciation, he was still sad, yet he had no reason to he.

School ended hours ago; however, Wonwoo decided to remain at the public bus stop. The bench, coated in germs from
countless strangers, sent a spike of chills throughout the student's body when his clothed skin made contact with it. He sat
there for a while, counting the few cars that would slowly pass by in fear of sliding off the road, their window wipers set
to relatively high settings. Once the pour halted and only small droplets were graciously dancing their way down, Wonwoo
received a call from Mingyu.

"Hi," he greeted, already knowing who was on the other end of the line.

Mingyu’s voice emitted out the speaker as he said, "Hey, Wonwoo. It's raining."

"It is," Wonwoo clarified while drawing out a long, smoky breath, "and it's nice. Do you like it?"

Wonwoo could almost hear Mingyu shake his head through the line. "No, because it's totally ruining my mood. I don't
think I've felt this shitty in a long time."

Laughing, the elder said, "Mingyu-ah, you're complaining again."

"It's true," he murmured. "Anyway, I made two cups of hot chocolate. Do you wanna meet up at the tree house and drink
them together?"

"Even in this sad weather?"

"This 'sad weather' isn't an excuse not to share some hot cocoa at our man cave. Who knows, maybe Albert likes hot
chocolate, too."

Wonwoo stuffed a hand in his parka and scrunched his nose, relaxing his body a bit. "I don't think chocolate is good for
Albert, or any animal at that."

"My point is" – Wonwoo chuckled, stopping soon to allow Mingyu to continue – "we should spend this shit day together
and make it less shitty!"

"What's with you and the word 'shit' today, Gyu?"

"'Shit' and I have a close relationship on shitty days."

 Wownoo rolled his eyes before replying, "Okay, fine. Bring marshmallows– Oh, and old lady cereal for Albert.”

"You mean my box of Special K?"

"Shhh," he hushed, "you never know if any Special K workers can hear you."

There was a brief moment of silence until Mingyu finally said, "Wow. I think my lameness is rubbing off on you."

Briefly after Wonwoo told Mingyu to shut up, he ended the call and rose to his feet while also pulling the hood of his parka
over his raven hair. The tree house wasn't too far from where he was (twelve minutes wasn't that long), so he took his time
in swerving around puddles and stepping over soggy newspaper scraps that littered the concrete. On his way to the tree
house, he passed a home that had an elderly couple dancing on the porch to the sound of static music coming from their
plug-in radio. He smiled at the sight, his cheeks reddening from the sudden lightheartedness erupting within his chest.
Wonwoo them moved on, humming to the song he shockingly recognized, regardless of the time it was released.

“My love, there's only you in my life – the only thing that's right...”

The singing voice of Lionel Richie played over and over again like a broken record in Wonwoo's mind, and he
absentmindedly started slow dancing with the air. If one were to see him in that moment, they'd think he belonged in a
mental institution (escaped from one if not that).

Upon reaching the tree house, it started to rain again, but not by much. The semi-green grass was soggy and only holding
a smudge of life. The same went for the bark of the old trees and muddy gunk of dirt. Wonwoo walked across the earthly
ground, his black rain boots making mushy noises as they pressed and released from the mud. Arriving at where he needed
to be, he noticed that Mingyu was already throwing flakes of Special K cereal to Albert from a red plastic bag. Between
his ribcage and forearm were two thermoses of stainless steel.

"Albert really likes this Special K junk," Mingyu said, throwing another handful at the goose. Wonwoo kept walking until
he was standing by his friend, watching as Albert waddled and pecked the ground. "Well,” he added, “geese basically eat
everything you give them then poop diarrhea afterwards."

"God, you're gross," Mingyu murmured, his face twisting in disgust.

"Just describing Mother Nature at its finest."
They talked until it started to rain harder and the bag of Special K was finished. Mingyu had a new crush, apparently, and
was plotting to make this person fall for him by using his boyish charms. Wonwoo rolled his eyes at the idea, finding the
plan to be ineffective. Mingyu was optimistic about stealing the girl's heart, however, and even if Wonwoo found his plan
to be ridiculous he didn't say anything. He had no right to ruin his best friend's happiness.

The moment rain began to spill in buckets, Wonwoo offered for the two to take shelter in the tree house. Mingyu agreed
while tucking the plastic bag in a secret pocket he had within the inside of his jacket, sticking the thermoses in the outer
compartments. On their way up the tree, Wonwoo was the first to go. In the midst of climbing up, the fifteen year-old
slipped on his right foot, yelping in surprise. Thankfully, Mingyu grabbed the other's waist to help support, but made
Wonwoo blush furiously from how flustered and embarrassed he felt.

"Jeez," Mingyu said, "don't scare me like that; you could've died!"

Wonwoo smiled warily. "But I didn't."

"And thank God for that," the younger scoffed. "Are you okay? Is anything hurt?"

"I'm the oldest here; I should be asking you."

"But I'm not the one who almost slipped and died!"

"Can you stop being so overprotective for, like, at least a day? What's with you and keeping me safe lately, Gyu?"

"Is it bad that I want you to stay unharmed?"

 Wonwoo shook his head. "What? No, not at all! Look, it's raining, we're about to get soaked, and I don't feel like arguing
on a stupid tree."

"You're right" – Mingyu let go of Wonwoo's waist, but kept one hand on the small of his back – "let's go."

Their pointless argument was quickly forgotten and they continued making their way to the tree house. Just a month before
that day, Mingyu nailed metallic panels on the roof of their hangout to keep it from getting wet on rainy days, which
surprised Wonwoo because – since when was Mingyu good at handy work? When asked how he knew about installing the
panels, he gave the simple and curt answer: YouTube. The bridge to the other tree was a challenge to walk across, yet the
two managed to safely get to the other side.

"You brought the marshmallows, right?" Wonwoo asked after sliding the door open, immediately taking a seat on the
matted floor.

Mingyu opened the storage chest and threw three pillows for Wonwoo to catch, in which he did. While sitting across from
his best friend, he opened one of the thermos containers. "They're in my secret pockets."

"I wish I had secret pockets."

"Secret pockets are so awesome. Like, I can hide a kitten and no one would notice." Mingyu poured hot chocolate in the
lid and handed it over to Wonwoo. "That is until the kitten meows or something."

"Why would you need to hide a kitten, though?"

Mingyu shrugged and pouted, saying, "No idea, but you’ll never know when it'll happen." Wonwoo blew on his drink,
holding a hand out and looking at Mingyu expectantly. Mingyu confused.

"Marshmallows."

"Oh!" Mingyu reached in his puffer jacket and pulled out his stash of white cylinder shaped marshmallows. "Sorry."

Wonwoo practically attacked the pack of marshmallows, engulfing two pieces in his mouth at once. "Man, I love
marshmallows."

"More than me?"

"Just a little."

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but smiled regardless. As he went to pour himself some hot chocolate, he winced and dropped the
lid. Wonwoo jumped back, watching as Mingyu cradled his thumb and hissed in pain. "I think I got a splinter when I
caught you," Mingyu said. "Agh, this splinter is huge and really stings– Holy cow."

Wonwoo stretched over to see, realizing that it sure was one hell of a splinter cutting through Mingyu’s skin. He set down
his hot chocolate and rushed to one corner of the tree house, where the first-aid kit was kept. He brought it back to the mat
with him, then rummaged through the white box to find what he needed. Once he got ahold of a pair of tweezers and
rubbing alcohol, Wonwoo sterilized the tool. Meanwhile, he cleaned the wound with care, trying his best not to cause any
pain.

"Oh my God... you're pulling it out aren't you?" Mingyu asked, a look of absolute terror and fear on his face.

Wonwoo looked up at the fourteen year-old, eyebrows quirked up in question. "Is this not what you want?"

"I-I don't know," Mingyu said shyly.

Wonwoo blinked, monotonously saying, "I'm pulling it out."

 The process wasn't simple, with Mingyu squirming and all. Out of all jobs the world had to offer, the medical industry was
something that definitely wasn't suited for the teenage boy. He couldn't stand blood, let alone something as small as a
splinter. It was ridiculous, to Wonwoo at least, how Mingyu was supposedly fearless, yet would faint at the plain sight of
a wound.

"That wasn't that bad," Wonwoo said, wrapping a bandage around Mingyu's finger, "was it?"

"Uh" – Mingyu cleared his throat – "yeah it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would."

Then Wonwoo smiled when his eyes met Mingyu's flushed face. "Are you blushing?"

"No!" Mingyu defended immediately. "No."

"Mingyu, you're blushing."

He brought his hands up to his cheeks, covering them with his palms and fingers. He murmured, "Leave me alone."

Wonwoo decided to press on the topic, taking advantage of the moment as payback for always getting teased by. "Why're
you blushing?" Mingyu mumbled something, but it was as indistinct as hearing the younger talk with a pillow over his
face, so Wonwoo leaned closer. "Because it's embarrassing,” he snapped, finally caving in.

Wonwoo leaned back into his previous position. "Embarrassing, how?”

"Because I worry about you, yet nothing happens; but when you worry 'bout me, something does happen. I want to protect
you because you just seem so helpless" – Mingyu faced downwards, biting his bottom lip – "I guess I'm the helpless one."

"I think the weather is making you emo," Wonwoo joked. He then ruffled Mingyu's head of damp hair, smiling in hopes
of cheering him up. "Stop thinking that you have to do things for me and just assure that you'll be there when I need you.
I can handle myself, okay?"

Mingyu nodded, smiling. His smile, however, lacked any happiness. It was sad, crestfallen and not Mingyu. Wonwoo's
first wonder was, why was he unhappy? He considered the following: A) His words did no help in reassurance, B)
Seungcheol lowered Mingyu's self-esteem, or C) it really was the weather affecting the other's mood. With all the
possibilities, Wonwoo hoped he was seeing things.

"We've never really talked, have we?" Mingyu asked.

Wonwoo laughed a little, saying, "What do you mean? We talk everyday."

"I mean actually talk. Like, about all things personal" – Mingyu made a second attempt at pouring his hot chocolate, and
succeeded – "your problems, my problems. Your past, my past. Your future plans, my future plans. All of that."

It was ironic how Mingyu brought up the topic Wonwoo pondered upon before, but disposed of the moment his best friend
called him on the phone. Wonwoo felt glad to know that he wasn't the only one concerned for that part of their friendship
– to know that everything wasn't one-sided. If that moment was their chance at getting to know each other, Wonwoo had
no protest against it, even if he had to hear it all on such a rainy day.

"We can talk now."

"But where do we start?"

Wonwoo took a sip of his hot chocolate, relieved when it didn't burn his tongue. "How about your future? What're your
plans?"

"How far into the future are we talking about?"

"Let's start with college, since we'll be going there in a few years."

"That is if we don't drop out by then," Mingyu said as he glided his finger around the rim of the lid he was using, "because
school really sucks."

"As if the school and our parents would let us drop out," Wonwoo murmured, rolling his eyes.

"Parents, huh." Mingyu breathed out a bitter laugh. "I prefer parent now."

Wonwoo relaxed his muscles and set down his hot chocolate. "What do you mean?"

"I only have my mom," Mingyu clarified awkwardly, as if the topic was a bit too sensitive to speak of, "and Seungcheol,
but he's my brother."

"And... your dad? Where is he?"

"I can't even answer that, but I should be able to. My mom says that he left us when I was six or something, so I hardly
remember much of him – all I know is that he has ears like Seungcheol's and eyes like mine. He's not dead, or at least I
don't think he is, but he abandoned my family for some unknown reason. My mom tells me that he's been out and about
looking for work to help support us, and I believed her up until this year. I'm a freshman now, so I'm more open to stuff I
guess.

"Seungcheol told me that mom's been lying so I could stay happy; so that my childhood won't be shitty–"

"There you go with that word again," Wonwoo interrupted, thankfully making Mingyu laugh.

"Anyway," he continued, "she still doesn't know that I know about her lies. I know that she has good intentions with what
she tells me, but I'm still disappointed to know that she's been doing that for seven years straight. Now her depression is a
lot more noticeable, and her happiness is actually saddening. Seungcheol says that she's only ever happy when we are, but
I can't be happy now..." Mingyu paused, directing his eyes to Wonwoo, who was sitting numbly with uneasiness weighing
his shoulders. Whatever Mingyu was feeling, the sadness and heartbreak his father had caused, Wonwoo was somehow
feeling it, too. As they stared at each other, Wonwoo noticed that the younger's eyes were filled with sorrow, yet still held
the shine they always had. It let Wonwoo know that Mingyu was okay.

Mingyu smiled, then continued: "I'm not really happy, unless I'm with you." And Wonwoo smiled back, the heaviness
released off of him.

Their afternoon continued with long conversations that naturally drifted to different topics, the thermoses of hot chocolate
and bag of marshmallows gradually emptying in the process. Despite the pitter-patter interrupting them, it worked out;
Wonwoo and Mingyu were finally digging deeper within their friendship, and they couldn't have asked for anything but
that. Rainy days suddenly became their favorite.

Once the rain stopped for the nth time that day, it was nearing half past six. They made their way down the nailed planks
attached to the tree opposite from their hangout, jumping off at the last bar of wood. Together, they ambled down the
streets of the city, hands stuffed in their own pockets for some warmth. Wonwoo and Mingyu reached the younger's house
first, as always, and shared curt goodbyes. For the first time, however, Mingyu gave Wonwoo a genuine hug that lasted
longer than their verbal salutations.

"Thanks for listening," Mingyu murmured, his nose hidden in the hood of Wonwoo's parka, "I'm lucky to have you as a
friend."

Wonwoo smiled then awkwardly hugged him back. "Any time, Gyu. I'm here for you."

An ugly, nasally snort. Then, "Give me an actual hug, nerd,” and Wonwoo laughed as he adjusted his arms and held
Mingyu tighter than before, embarrassed when he noticed how tall his best friend really was compared to him.
 With a muffled voice, Wonwoo complained, "I hate how your height makes you look older than me."

"At least that gives some excuse to protect you, right?"

"Mingyu," he warned.

"I'm serious" – Mingyu pulled away slightly, but kept his grasp on Wonwoo's shoulders, making sure their eyes made
contact – "about keeping you safe. You're my best friend, and I literally cannot stand a single day without knowing you're
unharmed."

"Dude, this isn't some romantic drama where I play as some helpless chick and you're the solution to all my problems."
Wonwoo shrugged off Mingyu's hands from his shoulders. "When I say I can handle myself, I mean it. Honestly, has there
ever been a time when I wasn't able to handle anything? Just support me; don't go overboard and punch a guy or
something."

Mingyu's only response was to switch his lips to a pursed smile and shake Wonwoo's dark hair (which he thought was
unbelievably soft), thus ending their time together. When Wonwoo got home, he made a sandwich and had to split it in
half because Chan kept "taste testing" it. He then collapsed onto the bottom bunk, falling asleep the second he touched his
pillow.

It was sunny the next day, the radiant disc of sun naked with not a single cloud crossing the plasma-blue sky. It was almost
as if it had never rained the day before, aside from the smell of wet asphalt reminding everyone and everything that it
really was pouring buckets previously.

The sky reminded Wonwoo that everything was okay.

07
April 10th, 2012

At 10:00 AM, Wonwoo's class initiated its usual and daily routine of rowdiness. The smart, the average and the
not-so-bright reluctantly filled the classroom. Circles of teenagers were sectioned off in handfuls: The rebels, the
nerds, the pretty girls, and then the misfits whom no one ever noticed. Wonwoo counted as a misfit, one would say,
because he always sat in the second to last row with his nose breathing in the scent of a Stephen King novel. He
ignored his surroundings, and the books he read kept his peers away from him. It wasn't like they'd talk to him
anyway, since they only noticed him as Mingyu's best friend (and they'd question how two outsiders of different
personalities could cross).

When Wonwoo glanced up to check the pre-written objective, he came to realize that other bodies were blocking
his view. He continued to read his book instead. The noise, though loud and chaotic, didn't bother Wonwoo a bit.
He was able to read without missing a single word, to which Mingyu would always find suspicious. "Are you, like,
a wizard or something?" he'd question. Wonwoo's answer would be a mere nod and a Harry Potter spell said in an
séance-y voice, fingers wiggling in the air.

The moment the teacher walked in, everyone immediately rushed back to his or her seats, all feeling socially
obligated to. Mr. Park, their tall, lanky Korean-American teacher with an overdue perm, was entering the room
with a cup of instant ramen and a frappuccino from Starbucks. He stood out – that was obvious – but his skills in
the Korean language were moderate. In a mixed environment, much of the students' dialect mixed English with
Korean, and Wonwoo figured it must've been hard for Mr. Park to get used to, especially because he hardly knew
how to ask where the bathroom was without giving up and ultimately asking in English.

"Hey" – Wonwoo turned and glanced slightly to the right, seeing a fellow classmate lean closer to him – "you're
Kim Mingyu's friend, right?" Wonwoo nodded. "Can you give him this letter for me, please? Thanks."
Before Wonwoo could reject the favor, since he was awful at remembering to do them, the student (Junhui, was it?)
plopped an envelope on his desk anyway. Just as Wonwoo was about to return it, their teacher began his
introductions for that day's lesson. Wonwoo sighed, sticking the envelope between the pages of his notebook. He'd
remember to give it to Mingyu – he was (semi) sure of it.

The teacher spoke of a world-known author named Edgar Allan Poe. Wonwoo had heard of him, but didn't know
anything other than the fact that he was a writer. From that day's lesson, apparently Poe was a man who married his
thirteen year-old cousin and often wrote stories surrounded by dark morals. He died a mysterious death and wore
clothes that didn't belong to him when he did. The students around Wonwoo didn't sound interested in the lesson,
and some dared to even say Edgar Allan Poe was a sociopath. Wonwoo, however, was hooked.

"Wonwoo" – Mr. Park wrote a Latin word on the board, turning to the student when he finished – "do you know
what this means?"

Wonwoo diverted his gaze to the board, reading the Romanized letters carefully. On the surface of forest green was
the single and lonely word, Mortem. Easy.

He answered, "It's the Latin word for death."

"And can you explain death?"

"Death is" – Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, which were prescribed to him a couple weeks before that day, and
rubbed his eyes – "when someone's life ends."

Mr. Park nodded. "Okay… simple, but not metaphorical enough. Anyone else?"

All the way across the room, a girl with crimped black hair raised her hand. Wonwoo recognized her as the girl
who’d never butt out of people's personal business (he didn’t know her real name, even after she transferred to his
school in the beginning of second semester, and only recognized her by the title she was given). Her lips were
chapped, a small part of skin peeling at the center of her bottom lip. She sat with overconfidence, a leg placed over
the other and chin held high. She was called on the moment Mr. Park noticed her.

“Death is simply the soul leaving one’s body and moving on to another stage in life, like the heaven or hell,” she
said.

“Well, that is if you believe in that, right?” Mr. Park questioned, giving the class second thoughts. “Not everyone
believes in heaven and hell; some think it’s a person's soul wandering about after the current life we live in. Has it
ever occurred to you that once you die, your life ends completely?” His eyes scanned over the class, and everyone
kept silent. “Ah, I had you guys thinking, did I?” A few nodded, while others made no visible reaction. “Death, to
some people, is a tragedy ending other tragedies. It’s seen as something unfair, or an excuse to thinking that life
itself is completely and utterly pointless.” Mr. Park turned, grabbing the stack of papers behind him and holding it
out for the class to see. “Your homework today will be about writing an essay on your stance. However, I don’t
want you talking about death; I want you all to talk about life. Tell me why life is or isn’t pointless. Tell me what’s
so beautiful or ugly about life.” He paused then put his hand down, the stack of printer paper still in his hands.
“Tell me what you live for and why.”

Ending it at that, Mr. Park handed out the papers to everyone and allowed the students to put them away before the
bell for lunch resounded. Chairs screeched against the classroom floors, the entire space emptying in seconds as
students made their way to the lunchroom. As Wonwoo walked out the class, a box of steamed rice and leftover
dumplings from the previous night's dinner in one hand, he stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway and
thought, What do I live for?

·̇·̇·̇ ·̇ ̇·̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇ ̇··̇̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇ ·̇ ̇̇·̇

Wonwoo and Mingyu rode the bus together because Seungcheol wasn't able to pick them up. Mingyu went on
about his day at school, dragging on the topic of how close he was to becoming one of the top three in his class. His
hands flailed and his eyes widened at some moments, and they sometimes caught Wonwoo off guard. Nonetheless,
he listened closely and allowed Mingyu to speak.

That's how it always was for them: Mingyu would talk (a lot) and Wonwoo would listen, hardly ever saying much.
Their opposite personalities, in a way, complimented each other. It was surprising to think that Mingyu hadn't
gotten bored of his best friend, regardless of the lack of verbal communication from Wonwoo. Two of Mingyu's
classmates said it was odd to see one person talk more than the other, and they once asked how the two managed to
hold conversations if Wonwoo didn't say much. Mingyu then replied with, "Because I never stop talking and
Wonwoo never stops listening." Wonwoo didn't know if Mingyu's response really answered the question, but went
along with it.

"So how was your day?" Mingyu asked as the bus neared their stop.

Wonwoo used his finger to shift his glasses at the bridge, jutting out his bottom lip. "I have this assignment about
telling what life means to me or something, but I don't even know how to answer anything in that prompt," he
replied, getting up to saunter down the walkway of the bus, "and I don't even know how to bullshit my way through
it."

Mingyu flicked the back of Wonwoo's neck. "No cussing," he snapped, before hopping off the last step of the bus.
“I'm sure you'll get through it. Hey, do you still have those green tea chocolates that I like?”

"You mean my green tea Kit-Kats?"

"Yeah, those!"

Wonwoo removed one strap of his backpack from his shoulder then unzipped the small pocket at the front, digging
through his mess of plastic wrappers and school flyers that were passed to him a semester ago. Ultimately, after
rummaging through everything (and deciding that he'll clean out his backpack later), Wonwoo found the chocolate
and tossed it to his best friend, who caught it with one hand.

“God, I love these,” Mingyu hummed, chocolate already filling his cheeks. “Your mom bought them from Japan,
right?”

“Yeah.”

“We should go there one day. How does that idea sound?”

Wonwoo scoffed as he zipped the small pocket closed. “Sort of impossible.”

“Hmph. How hard do you think it'll be to go there without knowing any Japanese?”

“Again,” Wonwoo said, “impossible.”

“Wow, so negative. Have a little hope! We could start saving up now and– Hey, let's actually spend the rest of our
day at the tree house.”

Wonwoo blinked. “That's a bit off topic. Why do you want to go there?”

“Because” – Mingyu circled around Wonwoo and started guiding him to the direction of their tree house, his hands
tight on the latter's shoulders – “I think it'll help inspire you for your assignment.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

·̇·̇·̇ ·̇ ̇·̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇ ̇··̇̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇ ·̇ ̇̇·̇

“I don't see the meaning in this.”

“You'll see the effects later!”

Wonwoo was upside down, his hands supporting some of his weight as Mingyu kept his feet high against a tree
trunk. They’d been in that position for half a minute, and Wonwoo so badly wished to be let down by his best
friend. Blood was rushing to his head, his face burning a bright shade of crimson. As the seconds passed, the need
to return to his feet became stronger.

“I can feel my ears burning, Mingyu. I'm hearing grain-y sounds, too.”

“They say that blood rush is good for thinking!”

Wonwoo groaned, his face tightening as the hot pressure on his face started to build up. “Well – fuck – well,
whoever ‘they’ are, are wrong.”

“Just a little longer, Wonwoo. Do you feel the ideas–”

Unable to take it anymore, Wonwoo kicked Mingyu’s hands off his ankles and fell forward. While sitting up to
make the blood flow back down, Mingyu’s cries of pain behind him, Wonwoo blinked and pinched the bridge of
his nose. Dry dirt was dusted over his clothes and somewhere in his shoes, his hair coated in some of it as well.

Once he felt normal again, Wonwoo huffed, “I’m never taking your ideas again.”

Mingyu sat next to Wonwoo and shoved him before his butt touched the ground. “That doesn’t mean you had to
kick my hands!”

“You deserved it," Wonwoo groaned, straightening his position again.

They sat there, and all they really did was sit. No one talked – no one but Mingyu, who was complaining about the
pain in his finger then going off topic afterwards. He pointed at one of the clouds and said, "Hey, look! Doesn't that
look like a bunny?"

"I think it looks like a bear."

"No it doesn– Oh! It looks like a cooked turkey."

Suddenly, Seungcheol's voice came from behind them – “I think it looks like a cat,” he goes – and the boys turned
around simultaneously. They saw Seungcheol in a plain white shirt and khaki pants that were smudged with black
streaks. In his hands was a crate of car parts and tools. “So this is where you guys always run off to.”

“Hyung?" Mingyu said. "How did you know we were here?”

“You dropped your frog keychain at the front,” Seungcheol answered, “but this duck thing chased me here.”

“His name is Albert, and he’s a goose,” Mingyu corrected.

Seungcheol set the crate in the dirt and sat beside Wonwoo, his thighs pressed to his body. He rested his elbows on
his knees. “Goose, duck – same thing. By the way, you forgot to give mom the money you borrowed this morning.
She needs extra change for grocery shopping.”
“Should I go now?”

“Duh,” Seungcheol scoffed, “or else we'll starve.”

Without saying goodbye to neither Seungcheol nor Wonwoo, Mingyu ran off, taking his backpack with him.
Wonwoo watched his friend storm off, and he began to wonder if he should leave or stay.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” Seungcheol said.

Wonwoo looked at him. “Hi.”

“I just told Mingyu to leave because I needed to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About our dad.”

Wonwoo tensed at the mention of Mingyu and Seuncheol's father, who he knew left them for reasons no one
understood. He stuttered, “I-I, uh, I already know about h-him.”

“Mingyu told you, right?”

Wonwoo nodded. “A few months ago, I think.”

“Did he tell you that our dad is remarried?” Seungcheol distracted himself with the dry dirt in front of him, his
fingers drawing swirls and star patterns, to avoid looking at his brother's friend. “He invited me to his wedding, but
not mom and Mingyu, which really confused me. Mom doesn't even know about my invite.”

“Are you going?”

Seungcheol took a deep breath before looking at the clouds, letting it out before speaking again. "I think so. I don't
really want to, but I need to talk to him. I have questions that need to be answered, and I'm the only one who can
get them out of our dad." He switched his gaze from the sky to Wonwoo, eyes shining with earnest. “While I'm
gone, because the trip is pretty far from here, I need you to take care of Mingyu. I also need you to make sure my
mom is taken care of, too. If they ask where I am, remind them that I'm on a trip to another city for new car parts.
Don't let them worry about me.”

“Why do I have to take care of them?”

He grinned. “Because you're reliable, and Mingyu trusts you.”

And just before Wonwoo could question anything else, Mingyu came running back, his hand swatting the back of
his brother's head when he returned. “Liar! I called mom and she said she's at a cooking class!”

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“So you're leaving next week?”

“Next week.”

“Should I be there when you leave?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Okay. Come back with something for me, hyung.”

“Like what?”

Mingyu smiled. “More polaroid film for Wonwoo and me.”

·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇·̇··̇̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇

At sundown, Mingyu and Wonwoo were sitting in the tree house, their minds engrossed in homework. Seungcheol
had already left for work a few minutes after he told Mingyu about him leaving the city. Of course, he didn't tell his
younger brother why he was leaving, but Mingyu accepted nonetheless. It was moments like that Seungcheol felt
thankful for a brother who didn't care for reasons and explanations, because the trust was strong in their
relationship.

Wonwoo finished his homework before Mingyu, so he decided to look over his algebra notes. When he opened his
notebook, however, a letter fell out, the front side facing up. On it was Mingyu's name written in sloppy
handwriting and dry Sharpie. At first, Wonwoo didn't understand where it came from, but then Junhui's face
popped up and he then remembered.

“Mingyu,” he said, the letter in-between his fingers, “someone told me to give this to you.”

Mingyu held his hand out to take the paper. “Who?”

“Junhui, I think.”

“The Chinese guy?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I guess.”

Mingyu opened the letter, and Wonwoo peeked over his shoulder to read it. It was an invitation to a birthday party
not too far from the tree house. For some reason, though, there was a sudden drop in Wonwoo's stomach,
something similar to disappointment. Maybe it was because he wasn't invited, or the thought of Mingyu having fun
without him, but the feeling was too uncomfortable to accept.

“It's for his cousin's birthday party on Sunday,” Mingyu said, “and I'm invited.”

“Are you going?”

“Nah.” Mingyu tore the invitation – halves, fourths then eighths – and Wonwoo flinched back at the unexpected
action. “Who uses paper invitations, anyway?”

“Why aren't you going?”

Mingyu shrugged and returned to doing his geometry homework. "You and I already have plans on Saturday,
remember? We were going to help my mom bake cookies for her book club."

Wonwoo didn't remember agreeing to join such a thing, but that was because he didn't. Mingyu made it up so he'd
have an excuse to not attend a party Wonwoo wasn't invited to.

·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇·̇··̇̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇

There they were, lying on the floorboards of their tree house again, gazing at the night sky through the sunroof.
Lone and independent, the crescent-shaped moon substituted the sun’s absence. Wonwoo and Mingyu listened to
the chirping of invisible crickets filling the void, the sound heard as soft music in their ears. The stars appeared as
silvery sequins shining against midnight fabric, and Wonwoo felt privileged to witness such finery. It was
seemingly impossible to look beyond something so… awesome.

Wonwoo said, “This reminds me of my birthday.”

Smiling, Mingyu replied, “We almost fell asleep here. Well, mostly you.”

“I think I did,” Wonwoo tried to recollect, “but I was sort of awake at the same time.”

Mingyu hummed. “You were sleeping, but spoke in your sleep.”

“Really? Do you remember what I said? Because I don’t remember anything.”

Mingyu rolled to his side and stared at Wonwoo, who decided to turn over, too. Their eyes were locked on each
other's, and Wonwoo noticed how Mingyu’s brown irises reflected the shine in the sky.

“You sang, actually,” Mingyu pointed out, chuckling softly. “It was awful singing, I have to admit, but I liked it.
You sang a lullaby, and I don’t remember what it’s called, but I liked the lyrics.” He shut his eyes. “My darling,
stay calm. My darling, be free, for night has arrived and it’s calling for sleep. All your worries are gone, and
another world is calling – another world for only you and me.”

Both boys sang the lullaby together, and Wonwoo’s chest felt light as the lyrics flowed out. After all the time that
had passed since Wonwoo’s fourteenth birthday, Mingyu still remembered the exact lyrics he murmured while
half-asleep. By then, at fifteen years-old, Mingyu should’ve forgotten how the lullaby went, but he’d sung it so
many times before bed that it was almost impossible to rid of.

The lullaby was written by Wonwoo’s grandmother, and was then passed down to his mom. On nights when the
wind’s violent whispers shook the windows of the house, or the constant clapping of rain pour violated the roof, his
mother would hold him closely and sing the lullaby. Her voice, like sweet honey and some sort of softness, calmed
Wonwoo instantly. Beneath the sheets, she’d hold her son securely, as if she knew he could never be harmed as
long as she was there.

“You remember the song,” Wonwoo said.

Mingyu replied, “I do. The lyrics can be a bit dark, though.”

“How?”

“It sounds like the kid, or whoever this is for, is dying. Maybe at night. Like, the kid is going to go to heaven with
who I assume is the mom or dad. Did they commit suicide together or something?”

Wonwoo drew his eyebrows together. “Uh, not sure. My grandma made up the song, and she always told me this
story of a mother jumping off a cliff with her daughter because of war. Maybe that’s the story behind the lullaby.”

“Wow,” Mingyu murmured, “depressing.”

“It kind of is.”

“Beautifully tragic, nonetheless.” Mingyu’s expression softened more, his muscles slowly relaxing. “Do you think
that they really died, though?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course they did.”

The latter sat up and crossed his legs. “Maybe a miracle happened and they somehow survived the fall.”
“How optimistic.”

“Too optimistic?”

“Just a little. Miracles aren't granted very often in this world of losers and assholes.”

Mingyu laughed. “For your information, I'm not a total loser.”

“Right,” Wonwoo said, “you're an optimistic loser. Very rare.”

Groaning, Mingyu fell back and stared at the sky again. Uncomfortable with the position of his glasses, Wonwoo
faced up, too. (The downside of having glasses was that they’d shift awkwardly when Wonwoo would lie down. It
annoyed him, and he wished he’d asked his mom for contacts instead.)

“I think I’ll live forever.”

Wonwoo’s face showed a look of confusion mixed with something else along the lines of “you’re joking right?”
Seeing the relaxed and earnest side view of Mingyu’s face, however, sent the message that he wasn’t. It sounded
ridiculous, and it was. Out of all the crazy things Mingyu had ever said, that was definitely the most insane ones
yet.

“What makes you think that?”

Mingyu smiled and said, “The clouds and the stars. When I look at them, there’s this hazy feeling that makes me
feel as if I’m floating or stuck in time. I feel… ah, I can’t find a word for it.”

When Wonwoo gave a good look at the sky, he realized that Mingyu was right. Maybe the word his friends was
looking for was limitless, or perhaps unbounded – infinite, even.

·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇·̇··̇̇̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇̇··̇ ̇̇·̇

Mr. Park was in the midst of grading papers from the class’ previous assignment as the students freely walked
around for the last minute of the period. By the time the bell rang, he requested for everyone to turn in their papers
at the door. Wonwoo, as the last person to recollect his belongings, became the only student left in the classroom.

“Wonwoo,” Mr. Park said, catching the student’s attention, “you’ll be late for the bus again.”

Wonwoo nodded before zipping his backpack closed. “Sorry, Mr. Park.” While rushing to hand his teacher the
short essay he wrote at five in the morning, Mr. Park called his name again. Wonwoo turned around. “Yes, sir?”

“What did you write about?”

Wonwoo smiled, and his response was: “Floating puffs of cotton and glitter.” Then he ran off.

Mr. Park, confused and curious, returned to his desk and set the small stack of papers to his left. He started from
the first essay to the last, reading through cringe worthy ones about teens who claimed that they lived for anime or
celebrities that they’d most likely get over in a few years, maybe even months. There were some who said they
lived for themselves, and Mr. Park thanked God for having some students who actually had brains. Finally, at
around three in the afternoon, he reached the last paper – Wonwoo’s paper.

It was partially half-assed, Mr. Park had to admit, but not terrible. The essay was intriguing enough to catch the
teacher’s attention from beginning to end, and he guessed that it was going to be his favorite from the stack.
Wonwoo was a student with a lot of potential in writing, but Mr. Park knew how he would always panic over
 having the greatest ideas. The student wanted to write nothing but truth, or at least twisted truths that weren’t
complete lies. Because of that, Wonwoo’s work always had half the effort he could really apply to his writing.

I live for the stars and the clouds. Their significance is small, but that's the
beauty in them. Sometimes they're there; other times they aren't. They leave
occasionally, but come back again nonetheless, and the wonders they bring
along with their reappearances are enough to make me to forgive them.

I live for the clouds and the stars because they're what make the sun and
moon more interesting. I live for the clouds and the stars because they make
different shapes and constellations that change daily. I live for the clouds and
the stars because they make me feel less lonely. I live for the clouds and the
stars because my best friend says that they make you feel like you'll live
forever - like your life is, without a doubt, infinite.

Once he had reached the last two paragraphs, Mr. Park looked out the window. The "floating puffs of cotton" were
there, and the feeling of eternalness was present.

08
July 9th, 2012

"Wonwoo-ah..." Poke. "Hey, wake up."

It was a Sunday morning and Minsuh was being more irritable than usual. At seventeen years-old, she was still
clinging to the habit of bothering Wonwoo during his sleep-in days, often poking his face or blasting Super Junior at
its maximum. That time, however, she was sticking her fingers in her cousin's armpits and the nape of his neck,
tickling him awake. Wonwoo curled into a fetus position, scooted his body away from Minsuh and whined.

"Let me sleep, Minsuh," he murmured drowsily.

"Go shopping with me" – Poke – "or else."

Wonwoo whined again as he tugged the Star Wars duvet over his head, saying, "Shoo, satan."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeaaassee?"

"Minsuh-"

"Pretty please?"

"Bye."

"PLEASE!"

Frustrated and annoyed, Wonwoo flailed his arms beneath the duvet, his limbs tangling with the thick cloth in the
process. "FINE!"
"Thank you!" Minsuh squealed, smothering her cousin in wet kisses, in which he grimaced to. "Be ready in an hour,
okay? I'll pay for breakfast."

Wonwoo wiped his face with the sleeves of his shirt as he sat up, asking, "Where at?"

"McDonalds" – Minsuh raised her eyebrows – "isn't a problem, right?"

"The worst place to eat," Wonwoo replied, "but I'll survive."

Minsuh grew a wide smile, and it was all too friendly and bright to not be considered creepy. "Did I ever tell you that
you're the best cousin ever? Like, my favorite cousin."

At that moment, Chan walked in with a plate of sandwiches in hand. He had a look of disappointment, his lips pouting
and eyebrows drawing together. It was adorable, but made the other two feel guilty in some way. "Minsuh, I thought
I was your favorite cousin?"

“You are!” Minsuh defended immediately.

Wonwoo smirked, his eyebrow rising subtly. “Oh, so I’m not?”

“Not helping,” she hissed.

“These sandwiches were for you, but” – Chan grabbed one and took a bite. He shrugged then turned away – “I guess
they’re mine now.”

“No, wait! Really, you’re my favorite cousin!” Minsuh ran after Chan when he nonchalantly walked out the room,
her hand stretched in his direction. “Dino, I love you!”

With both relatives out the room, Wonwoo was then alone. He swung his feet to the side and leaned over to rest his
elbows on his knees, hands covering his face fully. He sat like that for a while, until he finally let out an exasperated
groan. The last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend hours of it at a shopping mall with Minsuh, who was
very likely to bombard him with questions about choosing between two tops of different shades.

So he wouldn’t result in dreading that Sunday alone, Wonwoo grabbed his phone, unplugged it from its charger, and
scrolled through his contacts in search for his best friend’s name. Two rings in, and Wonwoo was already jittering
his leg impatiently.

“C’mon,” he murmured, “pick up.”

“Hi–”

“Mingyu!”

“–this is Mingyu! I’m not available at the moment, so leave a message and maybe I’ll call back!”

Wonwoo groaned another time before hanging up and tossing his phone to the carpeted floor. The thing he hated
most – aside from shopping with Minsuh – was Mingyu’s voicemail box. Every time the younger wouldn’t answer
Wonwoo’s calls, Wonwoo would think that the voice recording was Mingyu.

Wonwoo crawled to the floor, stretching his hand to grab the device. He decided to call again, praying internally that
Mingyu would answer.

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu grunted through the line, his voice sounding raspy and half-awake. “It’s the weekend; I
shouldn’t be answering my phone before ten.”
“But you did,” Wonwoo said, “and you can’t hang up or else I’ll call you all morning.”

Wonwoo could practically hear the latter roll his eyes. “Why are you calling now? You usually wake up after me.”

“Let’s go shopping.”

“With you,” Mingyu said, “or you and Minsuh?”

“How did–”

“Remember when she dragged us to the mall to help her pick out a dress for last year’s spring formal?”

Wonwoo remembered that day, but much of it fuzzed over time. The subtle details were erased, yet the most scarring
ones remained, which he absolutely hated. He remembered having to try on three different dresses because Minsuh
was too tired to change out of her clothes, while Mingyu was forced to test overly priced makeup that was, to his
misfortune, all waterproof. Since Minsuh was already wearing too much makeup to try any of the foundation and
eye shadow shades, she used them on Mingyu’s skin. A third of his face winded up appearing lighter than the rest.
In the end, they both left the mall tired, embarrassed, and dead on the inside.

“Okay,” Wonwoo gave in, “maybe we are going shopping with Minsuh, but it won’t be like last time.”

“Wonwoo, you’re my best friend – I love you – but I can’t trust you on this. Do you know how hard it was to sneak
into my mom’s bathroom for makeup wipes? I couldn’t even tell the difference between the wipes for makeup and the
wipes for babies.”

Wonwoo said, “Read the labels, idiot.”

“No one reads anymore, Wonwoo.”

“Just– Whatever. Please go with me, though, so I won’t have to suffer hearing her gossip about a bunch of celebrities
that I could care less of.”

Mingyu sighed. “Fine. I’ll bring Seungcheol so she could talk to him instead of us.”

“You, my friend” – Wonwoo snapped his fingers, and his pouty face evolved into fluorescent joy – “are the greatest
and the bestest and the coolest of all cool–”

Mingyu hung up, and Wonwoo laughed.

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After breakfast, Wonwoo and Minsuh arrived at the shopping district around the same time Mingyu and Seungcheol
did. It was unusually windy for that time of year, but it wasn’t violent. The wind blew just enough to keep Minsuh’s
hair out of her face as she walked down the sidewalk alongside Seungcheol.

The first place they stopped at was a popular shop that Wonwoo hardly ever visited. Mingyu gave the store quick
scan, calling it a “hip place for people like us.” Wonwoo, not understanding what that meant, nudged his chin back
and scrunched his eyebrows together.

“I’m going to look for some stuff now,” Minsuh notified the others. “I’ll look for you guys when I’m done!”

Seungcheol smiled at Minsuh and waved as they split, and the younger boys followed Seungcheol in suit when he
made his way to the men’s section. They wandered around the area, curiously peeking at clothes that they wouldn’t
buy. Wonwoo spent most of his time trying on the beanies that hung against a section of the wall, and he swore he
heard angels singing at the sight of so many of them in one spot. Seungcheol loitered by the men's summer fragrances,
sniffing the bottles and spraying the good scents on different parts of his body (he sprayed his mouth at one point, to
which he immediately regretted doing). No one knew where Mingyu was.

“Hey, hyung,” Wonwoo called out, his words directed toward Seungcheol, who was still gagging at the bitter taste
of cologne that remained on his taste buds, “where’s Mingyu?”

Seungcheol, with a pained and sour face, looked around. “No ide– Ack!” He made an unpleasant sound with his
throat that made Wonwoo cringe. Seungcheol used the hem of his shirt to wipe the taste off his tongue. “No idea.”

“I guess I’ll look for him,” Wonwoo sighed.

“You don’t have to!”

Wonwoo yelped at the sudden voice behind him, and he flinched away, his back hitting the wall. “For God’s sake,
Mingyu,” he hissed, a hand over his chest, “stop showing up so unexpectedly – jeez.”

Mingyu laughed. “Sorry, but hey–”

“‘Hey’ what?” Wonwoo’s eyes were shot with terror. “Things are never good when you say that.”

“Dude, relax. I just have an idea.”

Seungcheol, looking down at his saliva stained shirt in disgust, said, “My brother has an idea. That means bad things.”

“I take offense to that, hyung,” Mingyu replied, gutted.

“What’s the idea?” Wonwoo sighed, his eyes moving elsewhere. When they drifted downward, he noticed the clothes
that Mingyu was hiding behind his back. “Oh, that’s the idea.”

Mingyu grinned enthusiastically then revealed two pairs of rubber duck onesies. “Best friend onesies!”

All was quiet – Wonwoo and Seungcheol’s expressions were completely poker faced – until the oldest of the three
broke into fits of laughter, and Wonwoo covered his face with his hands. Mingyu’s grin dropped.

“Hey, why’re you laughing?!” Mingyu exclaimed to his brother. He looked at Wonwoo. “And why aren’t you
smiling? I thought you’d want in on this.”

Wonwoo took both onesies and hung them on the rack closest to him. “Look, as cool as onesies are, it’s summer, and
we’d suffocate in those things. Plus, it’s embarrassing.”

“Simply being friends with me is embarrassing. What’s new?”

“The fact that you’d want matching outfits is new,” he answered, chuckling at the end. “What are we? Girls?”

“Guys match, too!”

Seungcheol’s cackling had already died down, and he sighed as he placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Very
unmanly, little bro.”

Just then, Minsuh came running to the trio with various tops and bottoms hung over her forearm. She held up two
tops – a thin, loose pocket tee and a dark green flannel – and asked for their opinions on which ones to choose, the
question directed at Wonwoo specifically. Wonwoo quickly examined the two shirts, then shrugged.

“Just get both.”

Minsuh gave Wonwoo a look that complimented her droopy eyes and supported anything but a smile. “I hardly have
enough money to pay for gas, and if I can’t pay for that, I can’t afford to spend my money on two shirts.”

Seungcheol stepped forward and got a closer look at the clothes. “It’s too hot for a flannel, so I’d choose the other
one if I were you.”

“I agree,” said Mingyu.

Minsuh ended up buying the flannel instead.

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By the time Minsuh’s clothes were paid for, the group mutually agreed to take a bubble tea break. Seungcheol and
Minsuh both bought lychee iced teas in different sizes, the small for Seungcheol and the large for Minsuh. Wonwoo
ordered a hokkaido milk tea, while Mingyu ordered a honeydew slush.

“I find it weird how your drink is always larger than his,” Mingyu confessed to Minsuh, pointing at Seungcheol’s
iced tea.

“It’s because I actually have the balls to buy something bigger than me,” she answered before taking a sip of her
drink, “unlike some people…” Everyone laughed, and Seungcheol kicked Minsuh’s leg under the table.

After their break, they were off again. During the walk, the two oldest teens of the group buzzed about the upcoming
party that they were going to attend. They agreed to attend the event together, and Minsuh made Seungcheol swear
that he’d take her home afterwards. She threatened to kick his ass if he ended up driving while under the influence
of alcohol, because the party was – without a doubt – going to have beer and cheap vodka passed around amongst
the underage guests.

“Literally, don’t you dare drink anything that isn’t bottled water,” Minsuh said sternly, a finger pointed centimeters
away from Seungcheol’s chest.

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows. “Wait, what? I can only drink bottled water?” Minsuh nodded. “But what if they
have soda?”

“They’re stupid teenagers who don’t know a thing about responsibility,” she scoffed, “so even soda isn’t safe. Bottled
water only, got it?”

Seungcheol grabbed Minsuh’s wrist when she attempted to turn away, and he looked at her with pouted lips. “Are
you being overprotective or just bossy?”
“It’s called being a good friend.”

“Good friends don’t suck the fun out of parties.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know what good friends are like!”

“I know, because I’m a good friend!”

“A good friend who’s basically calling me a plain Jane!”

“You’re not a plain Jane; you’re just–”

Wonwoo glanced at Mingyu with nervous eyes, his pupils urging him to do something. Mingyu, sputtering before
taking action, made the swift choice of nudging his body between the other two and act as a barrier. Their hands
disconnected, and Minsuh crossed her arms and huffed. Chuckling apprehensively, Mingyu carefully told Seungcheol
and Minsuh to not argue while at a public area, and Seungcheol sighed.

“Whatever,” Seungcheol waved off, “I’m only here for the boba.”

“And I’m only here to shop for clothes that won’t make me look like a plain Jane,” Minsuh said.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened before saying, “Oh, no – Nonononono; you are so not going to buy that tight ass skirt
from the discount section of Forever 21.”

“Why?” Minsuh challenged as she peeked over Mingyu’s shoulder to meet the other’s eyes. “So you can keep calling
me plain Jane?”

“I never called you that!”

Minsuh groaned in agitation before stomping in the direction of Forever 21. Seungcheol took a deep breath to
compose himself, and then smiled. “Don’t go crazy, don’t go crazy, don’t do crazy,” he repeated to himself through
gritted teeth. Finally, he twirled around and stiffly made his way towards the stubborn and – to admit – insanely
confusing girl.

Mingyu and Wonwoo looked at each other, imaginary sweat beaded at their temples. Mingyu was the first to groan,
thus followed by Wonwoo, who shook his body in irritation.

“God, they’re so confusing,” Wonwoo complained, “and Minsuh’s always drawing conclusions. Like, chill, lady.”

Laughing, Mingyu said, “Seungcheol’s worse for going against the drinking thing.”

“Does he seriously want to drink at the party, though?”

“Not a clue,” Mingyu admitted.

Not wanting to get involved in the pointless dispute between Minsuh and Seungcheol, they chose to roam around the
shopping district instead. They looked through the windows that displayed items that varied from clothes to furniture,
stationary to appliances. There were few times when either Mingyu or Wonwoo would point out something on the
street, like a saxophone player entertaining those who passed by, a hat in front of him to earn extra money. With only
a few bills in his pocket, Wonwoo dropped some inside.

Towards the end of the district was an arts and crafts store, and Mingyu punched Wonwoo’s arm excitedly when he
saw it. Ready to punch his best friend back, Wonwoo lifted his arm, but Mingyu successfully dodged the hit and
smiled. “I know you hate it when I say this,” Mingyu started, hands held in front of him in defense, “but I have an
idea.”

“No more ideas! Please!” Wonwoo begged.

Mingyu tugged Wonwoo’s sleeve. “No, just listen for ten seconds!”

“Fine. Ten seconds only.”

Wonwoo held up his hands and began folding his fingers down as he counted the seconds. He expected Mingyu to
talk, but he didn’t; he just stood there with his mischievously radiant smile.

At the last three seconds, Wonwoo said “Are you going to tell me or–”

“Let’s paint a mural.”

He stopped counting, only one finger remaining in the countdown. He blinked, his mind attempting to process the
sudden words that Mingyu said.

“Where?” he asked.

“Well, where do you think?” Mingyu asked as he tried to get Wonwoo to understand his point.

Slowly and unsurely, Wonwoo replied, “The… tree… house?”

Mingyu snapped. “Right-a-roo!”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Let me live.”

“Whatever. So, a mural?”

“Yeah” – Mingyu pointed at the arts and crafts store in front of them – “and we’ll get our supplies here.”

Wonwoo almost agreed, but then the thought of money came to mind. “Uh, I don’t have much cash on me,” he
murmured, his hands holding out a crumpled roll of money. “How are we going to pay?”

In response to Wonwoo’s question, Mingyu slyly revealed a debit card dividing his index and middle fingers. On it
was Seungcheol’s name printed in white, and Wonwoo’s eyes widened. As he almost yelled profanities at the shock
of seeing Mingyu with his brother’s card, the younger quickly grabbed the neckline of Wonwoo’s shirt and yanked
it over his head. Wonwoo’s arms flailed awkwardly in attempt to release himself from the position, but failed.

“Sh! Don’t tell Seungcheol,” Mingyu whispered.

“Your brother has the capability of killing me in one punch,” Wonwoo hissed back as he finally fixed his shirt again,
his hair turned into a ruffled mess, “and I’d very much like to live so I can get into my dream college and marry
someone who’s amazing as hell.”

“He has money; I don’t,” Mingyu tried to reason. “Just let this happen and we’ll be off painting our mural happily.”

“Yeah, before dying!”

“Jeon Wonwoo, why do you have to be so pessimistic? He won’t notice!”

Eventually, the two came up with the conclusion that yes, they were going to use Seungcheol’s debit card. While
entering the store, Wonwoo was mumbling his prayers for the universe to forgive him, for he believed that using
Seuncheol’s money was the worst sin he’d ever committed. Mingyu told him to calm down, because Wonwoo’s
frantic praying made him feel nervous, too.

“Welcome!” someone greeted. The boys turned around and came face (or faces) to face with an old man dressed in
khaki pants, a checkered button up and suspenders. Pinned to his suspenders was a badge that said Jisoo. “What can
I get you boys today?”

Mingyu smiled politely at the man, and Wonwoo did the same. “Hi, we're wondering if you have paint for wood?”

“I’ve got plenty of it!” Jisoo, who Wonwoo assumed was the clerk, exclaimed. He waved his hand for the boys to
follow him. “Come with me and I’ll show you what I have in stock.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo did as they were told, standing side by side while following the clerk. During the short-
distanced walk to the very back of the shop, Wonwoo’s eyes wandered and examined the shelves, walls and display
desks. Everything was neat and clean, yet some items were simply collecting dust. He wondered how old the shop
was.

Right when they reached the back of the shop, they came upon buckets of different shades of paint and a young
employee with brown hair and an apron. When he noticed the clerk standing by two customers, the employee set a
bucket on the shelf and nodded politely. Wonwoo and Mingyu did the same.

“Jisoo,” the clerk said, “do you have any paint for wood?”

“Wood?” the employee, who was apparently also named Jisoo, questioned. “Um, they should be on the very end of
the paint shelves… My shift just ended, but I can help if you need any.”

The clerk smiled. “It’s okay; you can go.” He turned to Wonwoo and Mingyu, smiling. “This is my grandson Jisoo.
His parents named him after me.”

“They didn’t make a bad choice,” Jisoo laughed, his cat eyes turned into crescents. “It’s an honor to be named after
someone as hardworking as you, grandpa.”

“Your words aren’t going to get you a raise, son.”

Jisoo’s expression dropped. “Never mind then.”

The clerk laughed and patted Jisoo’s back. “I’m joking!”

“Really?” his grandson said, eyes sparkling with hope.

“Nope.”

Jisoo's shoulders slumped as he walked away, disappearing into a room for employees only. The clerk laughed again
and turned to his customers.

“What a catch, huh?” he asked the two. “Between us, I’m actually not giving him a raise because I’m buying him a
car when he gets his license.”

“How old is he?” Mingyu asked.

“Oh, probably no older than you boys,” the clerk responded. “Anyway, what do you plan on using the paint for? I
can help choose the colors.”

Wonwoo said, “We want to make a mural for our treehouse.”

“Of what?”

Mingyu and Wonwoo looked at each other unsurely, their eyes seemingly asking the same thing. Wonwoo shrugged.

“Maybe of… the outdoors,” Mingyu finally said. He glanced over at Wonwoo for approval, and Wonwoo nodded
subtly.

The clerk smiled widely. “I have just what you need! Go to the counter and I’ll come back with some paint.”

Once again, they did as they were told to and waited at the counter. Wonwoo took the time to look at the stickers that
hung in packets by the register. They had stickers for almost everything, including the ones of underwear and the
clerk himself. As he looked deeper, he found 3D dinosaur stickers, and he immediately thought of Chan. He turned
over the packet with a smile to check the price, and when he realized it was just enough for him to afford, he left it
on the counter.
“Dinosaur stickers?” Mingyu asked.

“I thought that Dino would want some,” he said.

Mingyu nodded. Then, the clerk returned with a wagon of paint. He stood at the opposite side of the counter, small
strokes of white on his palms.

“If you’re creating a mural,” the clerk grunted as he dropped two buckets of blue and green on the table, “I highly
recommend these colors.” He then placed tubes of pink and a soft shade of purple on top of the green bucket, along
with paint brushes of two different sizes: Thin and thick.

Grabbing the pink tube of paint, Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh, pink and purple? No offense, but these colors
are a bit girly for our mural.”

“Your mural is of the outdoors, am I correct?” The two nodded. “Well, flowers are part of making the outdoors
beautiful, so I suggest you should color them in these two colors here.”

“Why?” Mingyu asked while watching the clerk grab a small bucket of brown, yellow and white.

The clerk sighed after setting down the paint then placed his hands on his sides and smiled at Mingyu. “What do you
boys think the colors represent?”

Wonwoo switched his gaze to Mingyu, who was already staring back. Mingyu shrugged and murmured an, “I dunno.”
Wonwoo looked back at the clerk and said, with an unsure grin, “Uh… friendship?”

“You’re right on with that for the color pink,” the clerk laughed gruffly, patting the tabletop with his pruny, seemingly
ancient hands, “but you can’t leave out purple.”

“Um, well – ahem – does it represent l-loyalty?” Mingyu stuttered uneasily. He began to get creeped out by the look
in the clerk’s eyes.

“Nope!” The elder leaned closer to the boys and peered at them through his short lashes. “It represents nostalgic
feelings. I think you’ll both be looking back at your good old days very often.”

Mingyu sighed in relief, pleased to know that the clerk wasn’t going to say something too radical. Wonwoo chuckled
at his best friend before returning his focus to the elder in front of them, who was smiling at the two warmly.

“I think you chose the right colors for us,” Wonwoo said, “thank you.”

“Anytime, boys. Since there’s so much paint, and you probably don’t have enough to pay for all of this, how about
a fifty percent off discount?”

Before Wonwoo could deny the kind offer, since the clerk most likely needed the money for his business, Mingyu
covered the latter’s mouth and smiled. “That’d be awesome! Thank you, sir!”

Thus, Wonwoo and Mingyu were already out of the shop with buckets of paint in their wagon (the clerk was even
nice enough to give them that for free). During the walk to the treehouse, which was ridiculously far from the
shopping district, they discussed the visual appearance of the mural. Mingyu suggested signing their names on the
walls, and when Wonwoo asked why he’d think of doing that in the first place, he said – and quote – “Just so we can,
you know, declare that place as ours forever. Even when we grow old and die or something, maybe some of the paint
will stay there.”

Meanwhile, the clerk sat on a high stool in his paint shop, alone and lost in thought. His surroundings had an
emotional change, and he wasn’t sure how to define the feeling of it. It was quaint, but heated in a new, positive way.
The conversations of the two boys he’d recently sold paint to reminded him of his younger days, when he had just
started a new life with a new family. With the memory capacity of a child, the clerk hardly remembered much of
those days, but the mention of a treehouse flicked a mental switch.

‘Let’s save up to build a treehouse for our kids.’

‘Treehouse? Why?’

‘It seems fun! Well, for them, at least. Plus, I like making memories with you. This would be a cool memory, yeah?’

“Treehouse…” he murmured mindlessly.

He disposed of the random thought and got up to finish Jisoo’s job of organizing the paint by color. As he walked
off, he stopped abruptly and turned back around to grab a chart off of the counter. The chart – as old as he was and
out of focus due to its dirty lamination – was a series of colors and what they symbolized.

Light purple evokes romantic and nostalgic feelings

Pink signifies romance, love, and friendship

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“Okay, so where do we start?”

Wonwoo was staring at the wall parallel to the entrance. His eyes roamed the area, mentally planning out where some
paintings would be placed. Mingyu used a screwdriver to pop open each of the paint buckets, and the last crack
startled Wonwoo.

“God, you don’t need to crack it that loud,” he snapped.

“Sorry,” Mingyu sighed insincerely, “the lid was stuck. Do you want to start with the sky and then the field?”

“Seems logical enough.”

They each handled individual buckets of paint and dumped the main colors – baby blue and forest green – in
aluminum trays. As amateurs at wall painting, they didn’t really decide on a technique to help make their mural look
professional. It wasn’t like they cared very much, though; they just wanted to make something that they’d look back
and smile at.

The first twenty minutes of painting was boring and unusually quiet. They were both too concentrated on filling in
all the empty spaces, and because of the unentertaining atmosphere, Wonwoo started to fall asleep.

“That’s it,” Wonwoo snapped, breaking the silence. He dropped the paintbrush and walked over to the battery-
powered radio, twisting the knob until the local pop music station was heard.

Mingyu groaned. “Finally. I was starting to regret coming up with this idea.”

They continued coating the wall, and by the time the sky, grass and tree were painted, it was time to add finishing
details. Wonwoo decided to take charge of making the sun and clouds, and he painted them with as much delicacy
he could attain.

Mingyu, on the other hand, had other things in mind. After using sloppy strokes to paint the stems of flowers, he
grabbed the pink and purples tubes, twisted the caps open, then squeezed all of their contents on another aluminum
tray. Once the tubes were empty, he aimlessly threw them aside and pressed his hands into the paint.
“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asked, and his hand halted as he stared at his best friend questioningly.

Mingyu hummed a giggle, “Being creative. You should try it.”

“My art teacher says I’m creative.”

“Yeah, but you guys take tests on the color wheel and make replicas of Picasso’s paintings,” Mingyu said as he lifted
his hands from the paint, “so I wouldn’t necessarily count it as creative.”

Wonwoo didn’t reply to the other’s response, because when Mingyu made a hand-mark on the mural, he squeaked.
“DUDE! What are you doing?!”

“I already told you that I’m” – Mingyu made jazz hands and grinned – “being creative.”

“You just ruined the mural!”

“Did I? Did I really?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes while rising to stand next to Mingyu. “Of course you ruined it– Oh.” He finally saw the
mural from Mingyu’s perspective, and the other was smirking in satisfaction at Wonwoo’s evident surprise. “Okay,
I see what you mean now.”

“Genius, right?”

“Eh,” Wonwoo shrugged and earned a shove from Mingyu that ended up creating a handprint on his shirt. He gasped,
while Mingyu stood with his hand balled into a fist as he snickered. “What the hell, Mingyu?!”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“You’re lucky I don’t care for this stupid shirt.”

Mingyu grinned. “And you’re lucky that my handprint made your shirt appear a thousand times more appealing.”

Wonwoo dipped his hand in purple, and Mingyu’s first reaction was to run away. The oldest lunged forward and
attacked Mingyu to the floor, causing the treehouse to shake a little. They paused until the treehouse was still,
continuing their playful fighting afterwards. Wonwoo smothered the latter’s face, shirt and neck in paint, his legs
caging Mingyu so he couldn’t escape. Eventually, their positions were flipped and it was Mingyu who became the
one sitting on the other. Wonwoo managed to escape, but it didn’t stop Mingyu from attacking, for he patted more
paint on the other’s clothes. A mix of laughs and cries for help filled the treehouse, and it made them both happy.

Grabbing Wonwoo by the waist and spinning him around, Mingyu placed his hands on the sides of Wonwoo’s face
and squished them together, something he'd done so often that it became a habit. Wonwoo’s lips were puckered
between his pressed cheeks, eyes turned into dark slits. With one cheek then colored lilac and the other in pink –
courtesy to Mingyu’s paint covered hands – Wonwoo felt Mingyu’s palms swirl his cheeks. He smiled radiantly at
the latter.

“Your face is so” – Mingyu let out a curt laugh – “squishy and, like, moldable.”

Wonwoo swatted Mingyu’s hands away from his face then soured his expression in disgust. “And you need lotion;
your hands are really dry.”

“Maybe I should just cover my hands in more paint and use it as lotio–”

“Dude, what? No, don’t use paint – Oh my, God.” Wonwoo pointed at the door. “Go wash your hands at the lake
first or something, and then you can put on lotion when you get home.”
Mingyu ignored Wonwoo and turned around to face the unfinished mural. “We aren’t even done painting the wall
yet, Wonwoo. Relax, we have all day to complete our masterpiece!”

“It’s not a masterpiece,” Wonwoo sighed, grabbing a paintbrush then dipping it in baby blue, “if all we’ve really
done is slap our hands on the wall.”

Mingyu gave his best friend a straight, earnest look and created a fist to make it seem like he was holding an imaginary
microphone. “This just in,” he announced, his tone an octave lower than his actual voice, “Jeon Wonwoo, a nerdy
high school student at age fifteen, still remains a party pooper.”
“I’m not a party pooper,” Wonwoo defends.

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not! In fact, I’m the life of the party.”

At that, Mingyu snorted and laughed until he was on his knees, which only made Wonwoo roll his eyes. “Life of the
party,” he wheezed, wiping away a nonexistent tear. “Oh, man… that’s hilarious. And who even says ‘life of the
party’ anymore?”

Wonwoo scowled, and then pressed his paintbrush against the sky of the mural. “There’re plenty of people who say
that.”

“Like who?”

“Junhui.”

The latter pressed his hand against the aluminum tray of purple paint and said, “It’s Junhui you’re talking about
here.”

“But he still counts.”

“Eh, sort of.”

Mingyu stared at Wonwoo for a time, his eyes sincere yet glistening with joy. His smile pursed before he poked
Wonwoo’s elbow with his own, catching his attention. At the sight of Mingyu’s closed smile and brown eyes,
Wonwoo smiled, too.

“What?” he asked.

Mingyu nodded slightly. “You’re really the coolest best friend ever,” he said, “and you’ll never be anything less.”

Although his words were warm and assuring, Wonwoo felt a chill run down his spine and snake around his abdomen.
The feeling was strange and seemingly unnecessary, especially in that moment, yet it made him feel anxious in the
most exciting way. There was no stress in the sensation; there was only the pressure of figuring out what that feeling
was. Wonwoo thought that maybe he was just really hungry.

“Is there any chance of me being” – Wonwoo paused to recollect his thoughts and reconsider what he was going to
say – “just a memory?”

Mingyu’s smile wavered into something lined between a frown and a pout, his eyes reflecting the sun's brightness in
a way that caused Wonwoo to feel a negative pang in his chest.

“Of course not,” Mingyu answered. “Hey, why do you have to be so pessimistic and serious?”
 The latter shook his head. “It just came out; I don’t even know what I was thinking. Sorry.”

Mingyu ruffled Wonwoo’s hair before continuing his part of the mural. When Wonwoo went back to painting the
clouds, he took a deep breath. He hardly noticed the paint that was in his hair.

By the time the mural was completely finished, Wonwoo and Mingyu signed their names on the wall with a Sharpie
that they found at one corner of the treehouse. Once that was done, they walked to Wonwoo’s house to clean up and
eat dinner with his family, and Mingyu dragged the wagon behind him. They didn’t talk much on the way there, but
enjoyed the sunset instead. Wonwoo thought that the clouds looked like cotton candy, and Mingyu thought they
looked like his mom’s pink floss.

At the same time, once the boys were already cleaning up in Wonwoo’s backyard (Chan was using the water hose to
clean out the paint on their hair and skin), Seungcheol was at the bottom of the treehouse, shouting their names.

“Mingyu! Wonwoo! Hey, I know you retards stole my card!”

There was no answer, and Seungcheol was convinced that they were ignoring him. Instead of leaving, he angrily
climbed up the tree trunk, crossed the bridge and barged inside.

“Yah, why’d you take my debit ca–”

Seungcheol’s words froze and his breath hitched at the sight of a mural painted in front of him. There were different
sized handprints at the ends of lazily drawn stems, and lines that shone from a yellow circle at the top left corner. A
very generic looking tree was painted on the right, with its trunk rested beneath the greenery. It was a simple painting,
but something about it was captivating enough for Seungcheol to not tear his gaze away.

As he examined it more, Seungcheol found Wonwoo and Mingyu’s names written on two handprints – Wonwoo on
purple and Mingyu on pink – and for some reason, Seungcheol started to cry. He wiped away a tear with his palm
and laughed.

“Why am I crying?” he asked himself.

And the universe didn’t know the answer to that either. He just... was.

09
August 14th, 2012

Roughly around one or two weeks before the first semester of high school commenced, Mingyu’s family set off for
a trip outside of the city. Mingyu’s mother requested time off work to spend a few days with her two sons, and
Mingyu was more than excited to finally have an actual family outing that wasn’t at the supermarket. Seungcheol
was the one who booked their hotel, though, and used up much of his own money on a rental car that could handle a
six-hour drive. He sulked over it the whole week prior to the trip.

“This is so exciting,” Mingyu said euphorically, bouncing at the tips of his toes.

Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s shoulders and held him down to restrain him from moving so much. “You’ve been
saying that for the past week. Take a chill pill and just relax.”

“I can’t relax!”

Snickering, Wonwoo shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re a literal five year old.”
Mingyu’s bouncing paused as a look of disgust took over. “And you’re still a total buzz kill,” he snapped, “so we’re
not all perfect here.”

Wonwoo kicked Mingyu’s ankle.

A minivan with tinted windows and a body of red wine rolled up the driveway, and stopped when it reached only a
couple inches away from the garage door. The window slid down then revealed Seungcheol in a pair of Raybans
knockoffs and a muscle tee that showed off his eye-soring tan lines. He was grinning at Wonwoo and Mingyu,
classical music turned up to its maximum from inside.

“Are you ready for the best trip ever, little bro?” he shouted over the mix of bass drums and screeching violas.

Mingyu’s face twisted. “Since when did you listen to Beethoven?”

“Correction” – His brother held up a finger – “it’s Tchaikovsky.”

“Wow,” Mingyu said ironically, his eyes widening with obvious ridicule, “Tchaikovsky.”

“More like Tchaikvoshit,” Wonwoo murmured to Mingyu. Mingyu snorted in a failed attempt to hold in his laugh,
and he shoved the other for pulling the joke.

Seungcheol removed his sunglasses and said, “Look, we’re going on a four day trip with mom, and I don’t want her
to know that I listen to rap music.”

“She already knows that you listen to Drake,” Wonwoo pointed out.

Mingyu nodded and said, “Yeah, you kind of make it obvious when people could hear it from a freaking three mile
radius, hyung.”

Opening the car door, Seungcheol stepped out and pulled up his pants the moment he was on his feet. Just from one
overall look, Wonwoo could tell Seungcheol was trying to go for a bad boy image, but was failing because of the
uneven skin tones and tattered Jordans that were most likely from Craigslist. There was also something different
about his hair that couldn’t be pointed out right off the bat, yet it was still noticeable to the naked eye. Wonwoo
guessed that he was using hair gel for once, or maybe hairspray if not that.

Who’s he trying to impress, Wonwoo thought.

Seungcheol passed the two minors to enter the house, ignoring what either of them said. They watched as he walked
in, greeting his and Mingyu’s mother with too much kindness compared to how he usually talked.

“How much do you want to bet that he messed up again?” Mingyu sighed.

“A tub of vanilla bean ice cream and a pack of Oreos,” Wonwoo challenged.

Mingyu held out his hand and said, “Deal.”

The latter gave the hand a light slap and a fist bump to declare their innocent gamble. Once it was official, they raced
to the door and peeked their heads between the door and doorframe to spy on Seungcheol. Mingyu rested his chin on
top of Wonwoo’s head as they listened carefully. They saw Seungcheol flashing a gummy smile at his mom, who
was looking back at him with an odd gaze. He attempted to take the plastic bag of Mingyu’s favorite snacks away
from their mother’s possession, but she slapped his hand away and tugged it back.

“You’re being too nice,” she snarled, looking like an angered Rottweiler. “What do you want? Money? A new radio?
What is it?”
Seungcheol moved his hands away, and his confidence shrunk by a ton. “I-I, uh” – He hesitated then sighed in defeat
– “I need to borrow some money for my… album.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo snorted at an instant, cackling on the floor at the mention of Seungcheol producing his own
album. Seungcheol spotted the two, and his eyes burned with fire as he glared at them. His mom, however, ignored
the boys.

“Album?” she pressed on.

Seungcheol murmured, “Well, mixtape.” Just when Mingyu and Wonwoo thought they couldn’t laugh any harder,
they did, and the youngest began to develop cramps from it. “Shut up!”

“Are mixtapes even a thing anymore, Seungcheol-hyung?” Mingyu wheezed.

“They are; lots of people make them!” defended Seungcheol.

Their mom patted Seungcheol’s bicep, her lips tightened and eyebrows furrowed. “Seungcheol, I know you’ve
always had this thing about being cool, but now you’re just being lame.”

“Mom!”

The younger two laughed again; Wonwoo curled into a ball with his forearms guarding his stomach, and Mingyu
leaned against the doorframe, a hand continuously slapping it as his laughs became silent and unbearable.

“I’ll give you the money,” Mingyu and Seungcheol’s mom sighed, “but I still need you to focus on school, okay?
School first; music second.”

Seungcheol, with his threatening look transitioned to something rapturous, gasped and held in his breath as he danced
in place to express his joy. In the span of just a few seconds, the eighteen year-old managed to circle around his
mother twice, shake her hands with excessive force, and jump over Wonwoo as he skipped out the front door. The
adult in that situation merely laughed and shook her head, while the youngest ones watched Seungcheol prance to
the car.

“Mixtapes,” Mingyu’s mom scoffed, turning around, “who’d ever guess?”

Mingyu and Wonwoo raised their hands slightly, lazy grins on their faces. “We’d guess,” they said simultaneously.

Everything else happened quickly after that. Mingyu’s family was settled for their trip, everything on his mom’s list
crossed off after triple checking their belongings. Seungcheol, unafraid to express his passion for Drake, turned up a
remix of both his favorite rapper and Tchaikovsky. Mingyu looked away from the vehicle in embarrassment.

“Oh my, God,” Mingyu murmured to Wonwoo over the sound of Seungcheol shamelessly shouting the lyrics to
HYFR, “Wonwoo, help me; this is crossing the boundaries of embarrassment.”

Wonwoo laughed. “What, you don’t like Drake and Tchaikovsky?”

“Drake is the shit,” Mingyu tried to explain, “but Seungcheol-plus-Drake featuring dead Tchaikovsky is not the shit.”

Two honks interrupted their conversation, and they winced as they directed their attention to the minivan. “Mingyu-
ah!” Seungcheol called out, one arm sticking out the window and his other hand on the steering wheel. “Let’s go,
little bro!”

Mingyu huffed, and then turned to look at Wonwoo. “Okay, I guess I’m leaving now.”

“Have fun, and don’t forget to get me something,” Wonwoo reminded.

While walking to the minivan, Mingyu said, “I’ll find something – promise!”

“And don’t forget to text me while you’re there” – Wonwoo pointed a finger at his best friend, and his eyes glared at
the other with fake seriousness – “or else I’ll tell Jihye you still like her.”

Entering the car, Mingyu’s final response was a middle finger pointed straight up at the sky and facing Wonwoo.
The latter laughed and waved farewell to the vehicle, acknowledging that it wouldn’t return for another few days.
Slowly, the beat of HYFR faded away from Wonwoo’s ears, along with Seungcheol’s boisterous voice. Once the car
was out of sight, Wonwoo sighed.

“So,” he murmured to himself, “what now?”

·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇

Three hours after Mingyu’s departure, Wonwoo received only a few texts that were left unanswered due to the lack
of cellular service his best friend had on the highway. Wonwoo found himself occasionally going back to their short
conversation to check for any messages, but he was always left with nothing.

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
I kinda wish u were here… EVERYTHING ON THE ROAD REMINDS ME OF U ;o; !!!!

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
you’re on the highway… how can /anything/ remind you of me

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
IDK EVERYTHING JUST DOES. ITS WEIRD.

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
wow you can’t even spend a day w/o me. how will you survive 4 days?

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
That’s the thing! I CANT!!

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
where are you now?

Seen at 1:08 PM

Groaning, Wonwoo flipped over from his stomach and laid his back against the couch. He stared at the ceiling blankly
with his phone placed atop his chest, a hand still gripped to the device. The couch was uncomfortable, considering
the position he was in, but he decided that he was officially and forever glued to the piece of furniture. He came up
with the conclusion that he was going to become a couch potato, for he was an actual potato with limbs, attached to
a couch (Wonwoo wasn’t really a potato, obviously, but he definitely felt like one).

“Hyung,” Chan said from the other side of the armrest that Wonwoo’s heels were pressed against, “why do you look
so–”
“Potato-ish?”

Chan looked at his cousin oddly. “Uh, no? I was going to say bored, but I guess potato works, too.”

“I’m a human potato, Dino,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“Go hang with your friends if you’re being such a potato.”

Wonwoo scrunched his nose in disgust. “All of my other friends just share penis jokes and make fun of my inability
to shoot someone in GTA,” he said, “so I’d rather not.”

“Jun-hyung makes penis jokes?” Chan asked, cocking his head to the side. “And you can’t shoot anyone in GTA?”

“Oh, yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “the amount of penis jokes he makes is… appalling. Also, I do not believe that potatoes
should kill other potatoes.”

“Then go to the mall for bubble tea or something.”

Wonwoo’s ears perked at the mention of bubble tea, and he raised his head up a little to meet with Chan’s dark brown
eyes. “Bubble tea?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah, bubble tea.”

“Come with me!”

“But” – Wonwoo groaned at that word. “But” meant “You’re less important than the other plans I have” – “I’ll be
at an art exhibit all day today, so I won’t be able to get bubble tea.”

“Wha– An art exhibit over bubble tea?!” the eldest exclaimed, cutting himself off at the beginning.

Chan shrugged. “Sorry, hyung.”

So, after Chan left for the art exhibit and another useless glance at his phone, Wonwoo left the house with no one
else to accompany him. He took the bus, internally calling dibs on the window seat (it became a habit since he and
Mingyu would always paper, rock, scissors for a spot closest to the window). A third of the way to the mall, an elder
who smelled like a mix of wet sock and musky cologne took a seat by Wonwoo. He flashed his aged teeth at Wonwoo,
while Wonwoo tried smiling as he held his breath to avoid smelling the scent of old man.

Once the bus stopped at the shopping district, Wonwoo was forced to wait an agonizingly long time for the elder to
walk off the bus. After what felt like more than just a couple hours, Wonwoo took a deep breath of fresh air, his
expression souring when he caught some of the old man’s scent lingering beneath his nostrils. Shaking his head,
Wonwoo puffed his cheeks and headed to the bubble tea shop.

Wonwoo read over the menu as he took place at the very end of the short line. He often got a hokkaido milk tea, but
he wanted to try something different that day. He couldn’t decide between a taro slush and mango slush.

“Oh, Jeon Wonwoo!”

It was Wonwoo’s turn in line, and the sound of someone saying his name immediately caught his attention. The voice
came from behind the counter, and when he looked over, it was none other than Seokmin, a student from his rival
class. Unable to come up with a way to react, he simply blinked.

“Uh–”

“Is Mingyu not here?” Seokmin smiled widely. “You guys are usually together.”
Wonwoo replied, “He’s on vacation this week. He just left today.”

“Ah, what a shame,” the bubble tea worker said, his smile faded. “Anyway, what can I get you?”

“Should I get a taro or mango slush?”

Seokmin shook his head and said, “Neither. Hokkaido is a lot better than those two, or honeydew.”

“Mingyu usually gets honeydew,” Wonwoo mumbled to no one in particular.

Leaning over a little, his ear closer to Wonwoo, Seokmin asked, “What was that?”

“Nothing!” Wonwoo said abruptly, snapping back to reality. He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

“So…” Seokmin looked at Wonwoo oddly as his hand hovered over the register. “You want honeydew, right?”

Without thinking, the latter answered, “Yes.”

So that’s how Wonwoo ended up sitting on a chair outside of the bubble tea shop, with a large cup of honeydew slush
and boba sunk to the bottom, alone and bored out of his mind. He watched as people strolled by. Mothers were
shoving strollers of either infants or small dogs, loyal boyfriends were carrying the shopping bags of their girlfriends,
and children were walking in hand with their parents as their eyes dazed at the brand signs and displays.
Wonwoo was still checking for any text messages from Mingyu. He was so used to Mingyu replying so quickly that
it felt foreign for him to not reply back for more than five minutes. Wonwoo thought of sending a random picture of
a hamster that he found off of Google images, but it seemed unnecessary. If it were sent, it would’ve been the fifth
picture of a household pet he messaged to Mingyu in a week.

“Wonwoo” – Seokmin’s voice came from behind Wonwoo, and he turned around – “you’re still here?”

Wonwoo looked at him, confused. “Of course I am…”

“Oh,” Seokmin took a step closer to his table, and he noticed that he had changed out of his uniform, “I’m just a bit
surprised. It’s been over an hour since you bought your boba, so I thought you’d be gone by now.”

Wonwoo’s eyes glanced down at his phone for a moment then widened in shock at the realization that it was already
fifteen minutes till three. Suddenly, his mind neglected Seokmin’s presence as he started to sip vigorous amounts of
boba through his black straw. Although the slush was already melted, the coolness of it gave him a brain freeze.

“Whoa, there; calm down for a sec, Wonwoo,” said Seokmin, over Wonwoo’s inhumane sounds of brain aching
suffer, as he snatched away the latter’s cup of melted honeydew slush. “I didn’t say you had to leave.”

“You should’ve told me that first,” Wonwoo grunted, massaging his temples to ease the tension in his head.

The other laughed lightly. “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to think you had to leave.” He stood there for a while, a
hand in the left pocket of his jeans. With the cup of melted honeydew slush, Seokmin gestured to the empty chair
across from Wonwoo. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Uh, sure,” Wonwoo nodded, finally recovered from the brain freeze.

Seokmin sat down, a small smile on his face. He handed back the cup and rested his elbows on the table. They had
never really spoken before, with the exception of the time their classes went against each other in a game of lacrosse.
The scores were tied, and much of the students had different and biased opinions on who should’ve won.

‘Your team should’ve won,’ Mingyu said on the bus back home, ‘because you did really good as defense.’
Wonwoo rolled his eyes and said, ‘Just because I did well, it doesn’t mean my team did well as whole.’

‘Pessimistic as always,’ Mingyu murmured as he looked away from Wonwoo, smiling.

“We don’t really talk,” Wonwoo said.

Seokmin nodded. “Yeah, we don’t. I mean, we could; I don’t see what’s so wrong with it.”

“Well, our classes practically hate each other, so that’s one thing.”

Laughing, Seokmin said, “It’d be like Romeo and Juliet: destined to be, but forbidden by society.”

“Minus the romance,” chuckled Wonwoo, taking another sip of his boba.

“Of course. Oh, also, my friend Jisoo is going to show up later. Do you want to hang out with us? We’re going to the
mall’s bowling alley then picking up some burgers.”

Wonwoo could never say no to burgers; burgers were his love, his one and only, his life. Nonchalantly, he gave the
answer, “Sure, why not? I don’t have anything else to do.”

They had a long conversation that lasted until Jisoo showed up, and when he did Wonwoo recognized him as old-
guy-Jisoo-junior from the store he visited with Mingyu for paint. The moment their eyes met, they pointed fingers at
each other and exclaimed, “You!” Seokmin sat there, dumbfounded, as Wonwoo and Jisoo high fived each other as
if they’d been friends forever. Really, they’d only met once.

Wonwoo, Jisoo and Seokmin shared a talk, and by the time it was thirty minutes past four or so, they left for bowling.
Seokmin lost by ten points in the first round, but caught up in the second round thanks to the bumpers he added. Jisoo
won the first round, Wonwoo the second. It was overall a good time, with Seokmin’s immaturity of holding up two
eight-pound bowling balls and calling himself Nicki Minaj. Jisoo surely caught the eyes of many girls at the bowling
alley, but he seemed completely oblivious. Wonwoo tried to be funny, but he failed. As always.

Dinner came faster than they expected. While Wonwoo and Seokmin ordered burgers, Jisoo ordered a lot of french
fries, to which he kindly shared with his friends (but had to hold his breath to hold back from biting their hands away
from his precious food). They talked more after their meal, and Wonwoo swore he’d puke if he laughed any more
than he already had.

Jisoo left earlier than Seokmin and Wonwoo to help his grandfather close up his shop. Since Wonwoo took the bus,
Seokmin offered to give him a ride home. “Are you sure?” Wonwoo asked, his breath releasing a faint smell of
caramelized onions and chipotle sauce. “No one in your family really knows me.”

“Oh, I have a car,” Seokmin said, acting as if owning a car at sixteen meant nothing, “so I don’t mind.”

Wonwoo almost turned down the offer, but that was before he remembered the old man that sat beside him on the
bus. He shivered as he remembered the scent that seemed to poison his sense of smell. Never again. “Alright,” he
answered, “let’s go then.”

Once he gave Seokmin his address and they were already on the road, Wonwoo learned that Seokmin had the voice
of a damn God. He sang along to the radio, and unlike Seungcheol’s shouting, Seokmin’s voice constantly sent
Wonwoo chills. Wonwoo thought his ears were being blessed.

“You sing?” Wonwoo asked, his hands rubbing over the goosebumps Seokmin caused.

Chuckling in embarrassment, Seokmin said, “Uh, yeah. Sometimes.”

“You should sing all the time,” Wonwoo said, “because you sound really good. Like, celebrity-worthy good.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Not at all.”

Seokmin's lips tightened. Bitterly, he said, “You should tell that to the entertainment company I auditioned for.”

Wonwoo’s expressing slowly faltered. “You auditioned?”

“I did” – Seokmin nodded, his eyes never straying the road – “and they didn’t call me back. People said it was
because my voice was too loud.”

“Those people are just assholes.”

“Maybe the truth is an asshole.”

“And now you’re being an asshole to yourself.” Wonwoo looked at Seokmin seriously, like he was about ready to
nail numerous compliments to the driver’s head. “I honestly think you could get anyone to like you if you sang to
them – literally anyone.”

It was silent after that, and Seokmin stopped singing. Wonwoo thought he might’ve gone too far with the
conversation, because they’d just became friends after all, but he didn’t regret any of his words. Everything he said,
he meant.

When Wonwoo was dropped off and inside the house, there was a text.

To: Wonwoo
From: Seokmin
Thanks.

To: Seokmin
From: Wonwoo
i demand for a michael buble vs. seokmin voice battle

To: Wonwoo
From: Seokmin
OK youre being ridiculous

To: Seokmin
From: Wonwoo
lol no i’m not

By the time he was already prepared to rest after a long day, there was a ding. He expected it to be from Seokmin,
but–

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
OKAY SO I WAS AT A RESTAURANT AND I SAW THIS WEIRD FRUIT AND IT REMINDED ME OF YOU BCUZ
IT WAS WEIRD AND YOU ARE TOO HAHAHAHAHA I miss you :(((((

His heart, it felt as if it was suddenly demanding him to feel things right in his chest – feelings he didn’t experience
very often – and he skimmed over the text until he could finally come up with an answer.

To: Mingyu
 From: Wonwoo
i’m not that weird e.e . how was your trip?

His night ended with text messages sent from miles away, about how Mingyu expressed his love for Star Trek to
someone dressed as Darth Vader, and how Wonwoo made new friends named Jisoo and Seokmin.

10
January 24th, 2013

Wonwoo had his first girlfriend around the month of November. After talking to her for weeks and admiring her
passion for old films and animals, he finally had the guts to confess. Actually, he didn’t have the guts at all; it slipped
out one day during a group project they were doing. The girl –Eunji was her name – dropped everything when he
accidentally confessed, and then immediately embraced Wonwoo in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced.
Wonwoo’s cheeks brightened, and the people at their table cooed and teased until his face became even redder.

Mingyu, unfortunately, didn’t hear the news about the new couple from his best friend. Instead, he heard it from an
upperclassman that he eavesdropped on during passing period. Was he upset? Yes. Was he frustrated? Oh, yes. Was
he somehow disappointed? Without a doubt. That day, he sulked and buried his face in his friend Seungkwan’s rice.

“Get your nasty, germy ass nose out of my steamed rice, Mingyu,” Seungkwan barked, shoving him away and pulling
his lunch closer to him.

As the best friends rode the bus home, Wonwoo was grinning widely and shaking Mingyu’s arms, while the latter
sat in his seat like a glum pup. Wonwoo noticed, and when he asked what was wrong, Mingyu replied honestly:

“You didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend.”

Wonwoo unexpectedly pinched the hairs on the back of Mingyu’s neck before replying, “I was going to, but if you
haven’t noticed, we don’t have any classes together, nor do we share the same lunch period.” At that, Mingyu felt
slightly better, because Wonwoo did make a point. He was still sulky nonetheless, and he didn’t know why.

Two months later, Mingyu was better. He grew to like Eunji as they talked, enjoying the way she laughed at his jokes
when no one else would. However, he soon realized that his mood would often alter whenever Eunji showed up to
his and Wonwoo’s hangouts. She was never invited into the treehouse, which he was thankful for, but her presence
took away his and Wonwoo’s best friend time on the weekends. Slowly, the number of polaroid pictures they took
for the collage in their treehouse decreased as Wonwoo went on more dates, and their afternoons spent skipping rocks
at the lake went down from two to one. Nights of stargazing became infrequent, for Wonwoo often became too tired
to visit the treehouse after spending hours with Eunji.

Not too much had changed, though. Wonwoo, as the best friend he was, did his best to include Mingyu during his
dates. Eunji never seemed to mind, but Mingyu always seemed more out of place during their moments of giggly
inside jokes and flirtatious teasing. Mingyu stopped joining the hangouts after realizing that he was just a third wheel.
Mingyu despised it; he despised the idea of third wheeling his best friend’s relationship. He wished he was in a
relationship, too, and he wished Wonwoo never had a girlfriend in the first place.

“Am I a crappy person for wanting them to just break up already?” Mingyu asked Jihye during tutoring one day.

He and Jihye were talking again, only without the awkward romantic shit they had so long ago. Jihye had a boyfriend,
anyway, and Mingyu was likely to get beaten up if he made another move (not like he was going to, though).

Jihye set down her pencil and sniffed away the snot that was leaking from her nostrils. “Sort of,” she admitted, her
voice nasally and deep, “but you’re just jealous, so it’s normal.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Right” – She rolled her eyes – “like the way you’re acting isn’t jealousy.”

“Because it isn’t.” Mingyu reached in his backpack for a small pack of Kleenex tissues. He pulled one out for Jihye.
“Here, wipe your nose.”

Jihye took the tissue and blew into it right away, and Mingyu winced at the sound. “Thanks, Gyu.”

“How’d you get sick anyway?”

Groaning, Jihye rolled the used tissue into a ball and kept it in her hand. She rested her cheek on her palm and
scrunched her red nose. “I was doing community service at this children’s event, and one of the kids decided to
sneeze directly in my face.”

“God, that’s disgusting…”

“It is. It makes me want to never have children.”

Just then, the classroom door opened and in came Jun. He looked upset – no, more than that. He looked outraged,
frustrated and constipated all at once, and Mingyu tried to process how it all managed to combine so well.

“Hey, Jun,” Jihye greeted.

Junhui took a seat across from Jihye and nodded, murmuring, “Hey.”

“You look mad,” Mingyu said, not noticing how his expression began to mirror Jun’s.

“I’m more than mad!” Jun shouted, and he recoiled in his seat when the tutoring students shushed him. He whispered,
“There’s this new kid who’s been getting on my nerves lately, and he’s a total jackass who thinks the world revolves
around him, but it fucking doesn’t.”

“Oh,” Mingyu said, “are you talking about that guy from yours and Wonwoo’s class? What’s his name again?”

“His name isn’t important,” Junhui snapped, making the other two flinch at his change in tone. “What matters is that
he gets nowhere near you and Wonwoo.”

Jihye and Mingyu furrowed their eyebrows. Neither of them had ever talked to the new student, nor did they know
as much as his own name. Maybe Wonwoo was another story, but it was likely for him to not communicate with the
new kid very often. Mingyu had only ever seen his best friend with a few selective classmates, and that was it. He
wasn’t the type to cause any trouble either, so the situation was just a blob of confusion.

Jihye asked, “Why Wonwoo specifically?”

“He–” Junhui almost continued with his sentence, but after one glance at Mingyu he slammed the desk and yelled in
irritation. He didn’t even give two shits about the tutoring session the other students were having by then. “I should
go now. Bye, guys.”

They watched Junhui storm out the room as quickly as he barged in, only that time everyone else’s eyes were
watching. Mingyu sat dumbly with Jihye beside him, and all they tried to do was comprehend what had occurred.
Neither of them had ever seen Junhui act in such a way, and the closest they’d gotten to experience him behave so
aggressively was the time he caught his ex lip-locking a college freshman a few months back.

“What was that about?” Mingyu murmured, switching his gaze to Jihye.

Jihye only shook her head and coughed. “Not sure, but there’s been a lot of talk about the new kid.”
“Why, though?”

“They say he was expelled from his old school for smoking on campus and vandalizing the school’s main entrance.”

The latter’s eyes shot open in shock as he leaned his head closer to Jihye. He whispered, “He’s the one who spray
painted ‘suck my ass’ on the doors?”

“Apparently.”

“Wow” – Mingyu scoffed and crossed his arms, leaning back – “our school’s first actual bad boy. This is interesting.”

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t cause any problems,” Jihye murmured, holding her hand out for another tissue, “because
I don’t want to deal with any type of shit from some air headed jerk.”

Meanwhile, as Jun marched through the vacant hallways and swerved past occasional groups of people, he called the
first person he could think of.

“What’s up, Jun?”

“Seokmin” – His tone was sharp yet breathless – “whatever you do, make sure Wonwoo stays away from whatever
Yejoon tries to tell him. I’ll keep Mingyu away from Yejoon.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway to catch his
breath. All the frustration he’d been piling up was starting to break him on the outside, and Jun started to become
scared – scared of the what if’s and how the situation was going to play out. The lack of knowledge he had for the
near future was causing his nerves to almost burst. “The guy’s a boxer; he’s sure to knock out Yejoon if he hears of
he’s said about Wonwoo.”

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Albert was standing over a blob of poop when Mingyu arrived at the treehouse. Souring his expression, Mingyu ran
towards the goose to chase him off, but ended up as the one being chased. He tried his best to not stray too far from
the treehouse, doing whatever he could to outsmart the goose. Albert was clever, though, and Mingyu (unfortunately)
was not.

“Suck it, Albert!” Mingyu shouted at the goose, after he climbed up to the treehouse and trapped himself away.

“You’re talking to a duck.”

He yelped at the voice that resounded from the inside of the treehouse, and he flinched into an awkwardly defensive
stance. But it was just another boy wearing the same school uniform as him, whom he technically wasn’t supposed
to be so afraid of. He was afraid, though. “Jeez,” he huffed.

The stranger laughed. “What? Did you think I was a burglar?”

“I kind of thought worse than that,” Mingyu corrected, as he tried to rid the thought of the person possibly being a
murderer.

“Relax, I was just walking and found this place.”

Mingyu stood straight and adjusted his tie. Once his posture was corrected, he allowed himself to get a good look at
the person in front of him. He had dark brown hair that matched well with his eyes, and his grin was a thousand times
greasier than Jun’s. From the neck down, Mingyu could tell that he most likely spent some time working out, despite
being quite thin. The guy was about as tall as Wonwoo, but had hair that gave the illusion of him appearing taller
than he really was. His looks were sharp, appealing and gave off an eerie feel that made you want to either run away
or step closer. In a school as small as Mingyu’s, he was surprised that he’d never seen that person on campus before.

“So,” the guy said, his hands in his pockets, “this is yours and Jeon Won-won’s, huh?”

Mingyu was going to nod until he heard the mispronunciation of his best friend’s name. “Don’t you mean Wonwoo?”

“Right. You and your little boyfriend have quite the setup in there, by the way. Love the mural.”

“Who do you think you are?” Mingyu questioned, teeth and fists clenched. “You aren’t being funny; just really
annoying.”

The guy smirked, and it made Mingyu want to punch him right on the spot. With a subtle bob to the side, he winked
at the other. “Choi Yejoon. Pleasure to meet you.”

Suddenly, it all made sense, and it was no wonder how Mingyu had never seen him before. Oh, fuck. “New guy…”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me! That makes this even more interesting.”

Right away, Mingyu growled, “Get out.”

Yejoon held his hands up defensively and backed away with a smug pout. “Alright, calm down.” Mingyu watched
as Yejoon crossed the bridge and climbed down. But he wasn’t completely finished talking. Loudly, but still
maintaining the coolness of his voice, Yejoon said, “By the way, you should consider protecting your little
sanctuary!”

Mingyu’s heart stopped beating for a second. “W-why?”

“Because–”

“Choi!” Seokmin. “Doesn’t seem like you have a ride. Aren’t you afraid of missing the bus?”

Yejoon looked at Seokmin with a faint glare then looked back up at Mingyu, smiling and dropping his shoulders.
“I’ll see you at school, Mingyu-ah!”

As he strutted off, he made sure to shove shoulders with Seokmin and disappear in the cluster of bare trees. Mingyu
and Seokmin then made eye contact, and Seokmin simply cleared his throat and followed Yejoon away from the
treehouse.

Thank God nothing was wrong with the treehouse when Mingyu inspected it.

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“Seokmin taught me some stuff in binary today. Want to see?”

Mingyu and Wonwoo were at a café that’d just opened about a mile away from their houses. Wonwoo was neatly
writing binary codes in a journal that was around the size of his hand, while pausing a few times to take sips from
his cappuccino. Mingyu sat beside him, his hand cupped around his mug of hot cocoa and eyes staring down at the
swirl of melted whipped cream.

Mingyu was still thinking of Yejoon, and to add on to that, he was also thinking of Seokmin’s coincidental
appearance. It seemed like more and more people were starting to find out about the treehouse, to which Mingyu
couldn’t digest properly enough, not even if he tried. He couldn’t accept the fact that a place made for just him and
Wonwoo was becoming an attraction to the public. More discoveries meant that the meaning of “home” was fading
away more quickly, and a gradually disappearing home meant that there’d be nothing else for them to take solace in.
The thought made Mingyu’s chest cramp.

“You okay?”

He blinked as he transitioned out if his thoughts and back to his and Wonwoo’s conversation. As he turned his head
to look at his best friend, their eyes locked, and it was then when he noticed how close they were. They were shoulder
to shoulder, sharing each other’s warmth. Mingyu gulped while he stared at the chocolate brown irises peering back
at him, because they were making him feel guilt in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m okay,” Mingyu responded, his lips tugged at the ends, “no need to worry.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure? I’ve been the only one talking for the past few minutes, and that
never happens.” He set down his pencil. “Why aren't you saying anything?”

The concern and sincerity illustrated on Wonwoo’s face made Mingyu hurt more. Between the two of them, he
always thought that the latter was more attached to the treehouse. Wonwoo loved everything about that place: The
mural, the rustic appeal of its entire structure, how stunning the stars looked there at night, the lake it was built by,
Albert – everything. There wasn't a thing he hated, aside from the unstableness of it. Mingyu couldn’t let himself see
Wonwoo helplessly part away from their home – it’d hurt him more than anything.

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu tried to steady his voice as he looked at his hands again, his heart beating fast, “I-I’m sorry if
I’m unable to protect your happiness. I’m so” – Dammit – “sorry if you become unhappy.”

All Wonwoo could do was stare in confusion as he felt his heart constrict and a weight sit atop his shoulders. “Jeez,
Mingyu. You’re still on that whole protection thing?”

“The treehouse–”

Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s hand, and Mingyu stopped talking right away. “Can you chill for a bit?” Wonwoo asked
softly, “You know you mean the world to me, right? You know I love you just as much as my family and the others?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Then stop worrying about my happiness. As long as I have you guys, I’m happy.”

Mingyu didn’t cry. He felt his throat tighten and tears gather, but nothing came out. At Wonwoo’s reassurance, he
felt himself relax as a breath of relief was let out. “Okay.”

Wonwoo smiled then nudged Mingyu. “Awesome. So, what’s this all about anyway? Something wrong with the
treehouse?”

He hesitated. “N-no…”

“I’m not entirely convinced, but alright then.” Wonwoo turned back to his notebook, letting go of the Mingyu’s hand.
“I wrote this for you.”

He handed Mingyu the notebook, and upon seeing just a jumble of zeroes and one’s, he was beyond confused. He
knew what binary was – they learned the math of binary numbers in their freshman year – but never bothered looking
into it. It was too complicated, and his brain didn’t have enough room to memorize the eight-digit numbers.

“What does it say?”

“Translate it yourself.”
Mingyu groaned, looking away from the notebook as he did. “Out of all the things you could do to make me suffer,
you tell me to translate binary myself.”

“Binary’s fun! Seokmin taught me how fun it can be.”

“I think Seokmin probably misinterpreted the word ‘fun.’”

Wonwoo laughed. “Sometimes communicating with just words gets boring, though, doesn’t it? I think binary is a
cool alternative, like morse code and sign language.”

“I’ll go on a website that can translate it for me or something. By the way, you memorized all of this?”

“God, no,” Wonwoo scoffed, as he snatched back the notebook and flipped to the front page, “I have a chart that I
made with Seokmin during class.”

You’re always talking about Seokmin. Do you talk about me when you’re with him? “So, how’re you and Eunji?”

The latter’s expression wavered, and he looked away while chuckling nervously. He placed the notebook back on
the table. “We broke up,” he breathed, eyes turned downward at his drink. “Yeah, she… broke up with me.”

Mingyu, by instinct, jolted closer, the whites of his eyes becoming more apparent. “You guys did what?”

“We broke up.”

Mingyu thought that he should’ve felt sad for his best friend, or at least a little apologetic, but he didn’t feel any of
that. In fact, he’d completely forgotten about the treehouse issue as joy took over him.

To keep from smiling too widely, Mingyu bit down on his bottom lip and balled his hands into fits, squeezing a little.
He barely noticed the way Wonwoo’s eyes saddened and how quiet he became. Mingyu was being such a shitty
friend, but alas, his wish of them breaking up came true. It was a good thing, he believed.

“Why?” Mingyu asked, curious and fizzing with anticipation.

Sighing, Wonwoo replied, “She said that she was tired of me bringing you to our dates. Honestly, I never knew half
of them counted as dates, and she never bothered talking to me about it before. And then she went on about how she
had a weird feeling about me, but didn’t even explain what she meant about that.” He cracked his neck and groaned.
“Girls are so confusing.”

“And that’s why I haven’t dated in so long.”

“‘So long’? Your last girlfriend was two months ago, Gyu.”

“Let’s… not talk about that.”

Wonwoo, after he rolled his eyes, said, “Anyway. The weird thing about our breakup was that I didn’t feel sad; I felt
normal. Then I realized that I probably stopped liking her a long time ago, maybe halfway through our relationship,
and I just never noticed until she broke up with me.”

“Really? You never looked like you lost interest.”

“And that’s the thing: I stopped doing all the stuff that actual couples do and was uncomfortable, but I acted the same.
I felt awkward just holding her hand.”

It was true. Whenever they went to class together and Eunji held his hand, Wonwoo felt awkward, hesitant and
uncomfortable. There was nothing wrong with her; she was the smart and beautiful Eunji that she’d always been, and
always would remain as. The feeling, the overall idea, of doing all that romantic crap with her – like kissing and even
hugging – was simply unfitting.

There was more than just that, however. As weeks passed, Wonwoo’s feelings began to alter around both girls and
guys. With girls, he’d ultimately lost interest, and he looked back and began to think that he was probably never so
into the idea of being with a person of the opposite gender. He’d seen many girls and thought, She’s pretty or She’s
beyond perfect, but there was never that spark in him that said anything more than “I like them as a friend.” With
Eunji, he knew that she was beautiful and smart and enthusiastic about the things she found interest in, yet something
was still missing. He liked her, but maybe not in the way he thought he did.

He read a book once, and it described the feeling of liking someone and knowing that you’re in love.

Falling in love is by far the most exciting, rewarding and scariest things
to ever experience. They’re the best part of your day, and when you’re
alone, you wish to be with them. They’re the first person you think of in
almost every situation, whether it’s something simple or complex. They
prioritize above your own desires and needs. You’d do anything for them.
You’ll love the imperfections that eventually become beautiful in your own
eyes. The person, in the end, is also your best friend and lover all at once.
The entire concept of loving someone is a hard thing to express into
words, sometimes even actions, but it’s there; it’s real.

Immediately, at the end of the excerpt, Mingyu came to mind. There was a mental image of Mingyu scavenging the
grass for something, his face tightened as he focused on the ground. He then had a toothy grin that flattered his eyes,
which switched to a look of astonishment. Mingyu looked up at Wonwoo, the sun highlighting certain parts of his
face, and held up a dandelion. Wonwoo thought his imagination was real, for a moment.

And Wonwoo was almost convinced that he liked Mingyu, but that was absolutely ridiculous to think of.

“At least it’s over,” Mingyu said, as he reached out for his mug of hot cocoa and placed his lips at the brim, “because
that would mean the awkwardness would last longer if it dragged on.”

As he took a sip, the sweet taste of cocoa dancing across his tastebuds and sliding down his throat, Wonwoo blurted,
“Mingyu, I’m a bit confused right now, but… I think I’m… gay.” Mingyu started choking on his hot chocolate, and
Wonwoo took it as a bad sign. “Is that bad?”

Shaking his head and coughing, Mingyu replied in a strained and embarrassingly high voice, “No, not at all! Gay is
good, nothing wrong with it. Your sexuality shouldn’t, uh, make you think of yourself as… less.” He cleared his
throat. “It just took me off guard.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

He sighed, but it made him cough even more. “I can never hate you, Wonwoo. You’re still you, even after this.”

Wonwoo laughed airily and leaned into Mingyu, resting his head on his best friend’s shoulder. “That’s a relief” –
His voice was soft – “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if this didn’t go as I hoped. You make me feel a bit more normal.”

Mingyu smiled a little, his heart feeling light. “You make me feel the same. Maybe it’s a best friend thing.”

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At twilight, when temperatures dropped and the city lights had ignited into little sparks across the skyline, Mingyu
sat in front of his electric heater with a blanket draped over his head. The only thing illuminating his bedroom was
 the desk lamp that he placed beside him on the rug. There was a murmur of honking horns coming from the trafficked
streets, and there was a faint sound of Seungcheol talking on the phone next door.

Mingyu was trying to translate Wonwoo’s binary note himself, contrary to what he said about using a website that’d
do it for him. He switched back and forth from page to page, scribbling a letter underneath each set of zeroes and
one’s after every flip. It took up a lot of his time, but not enough for him to pull an all-nighter.

Twenty minutes of translating later, since he messed up countless times, he finally finished. It said:

i dont usually play basketball and im kind of bad at it. but as i played against
seokmin, you and jun a couple weeks ago, i realized more than what
an ordinary person would think during a game.

1. the rim is farther than i expected

2. before you shoot, you get excited and anticipation builds
3. when you dont make it, you want to try harder
4. when you do make it, its like the world loves you
that is all.

“What a waste of time,” Mingyu mumbled to himself, closing the notebook and tossing it on his desk.

But as he got up to lay in bed and sleep, he internally admitted that his time wasn’t wasted, because he finally
understood what Wonwoo meant when he said binary was interesting.

11
April 15th, 2013

Whenever students began sneezing on others and the school year was just a few months away from ending, it meant
that spring had arrived.

“Don’t forget: Our annual Cherry Blossom Dance is just a week away! Get your tickets before they sell out!”

The dance was what kept conversations alive that week, and there wasn’t a single person who hadn’t mentioned it at
least once. Some boys stressed over finding corsages that’d satisfy their dates, while the remaining few either didn’t
plan on going or embraced the fact that they were attending without a partner. Girls giggled and cooed as they raved
over each other’s dresses, which all ranged from short to long, glitter to silk. Even the teachers were excited,
encouraging every student to make it if they could, some using the “extra credit” bribe to convince them.

“Are you going to the cherry blossom dance?” Seokmin asked Wonwoo after class.

Wonwoo shrugged, his thumbs tucked between his shoulders and backpack straps. “I don’t have a suit, and it’d be
weird to go without one.”

“I can use my mall discount to help you buy one,” Seokmin offered, too casually to make it seem like a big deal. He
smiled. “Perks of being friends with a mall employee, right?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo said, “You can only use those discounts once every season. Don’t waste it on me.”
“Hey, I think you’re worth the waste.” Wonwoo simply rolled his eyes before making a left turn and exiting out the
school doors, and the last thing he heard before leaving was Seokmin shouting, “Text me once you’ve made up your
mind!”

He wasn’t sure if he ever would, though. The idea of going to school on a Saturday night in formal attire and dancing
to pop music until midnight sounded awkward, or at least in the way Wonwoo pictured it to go down. And having to
go without a date was also what factored the awkward scenario that played in his head, because he imagined that
attending as a lone wolf would look like the way Charlie stood during the homecoming scene in The Perks of Being
a Wallflower. Plus, he hated dress shoes.

As he played through the countless possibilities in his mind, he felt an arm throw over his shoulders. Caught off
guard, Wonwoo stumbled a little, but quickly regained his balance. “Wonwoo, hey!”

He turned his head, and his eyes instantly met with another person’s. “H-hi, Yejoon.”

To Wonwoo, Yejoon seemed harmless, despite the rumors of his rebellious past. Yejoon sometimes gave Wonwoo
the answers to his math worksheets whenever he was too caught up in finishing his English homework late. Once,
he even paid for Wonwoo’s lunch without asking, and it confused him immensely. They’d never properly spoken,
yet Yejoon offered so much kindness that it made Wonwoo think of him differently. But still, Wonwoo was
intimidated by Yejoon’s overall being.

Yejoon grinned, pulling Wonwoo closer by the shoulders. “You going to the dance?”

“I was just talking to Seokmin about it, actua–”

“Oh, Seokmin’s your date?”

Immediately, Wonwoo widened his eyes and shook his head rapidly. “No! No, no, no; we were just talking, and–”

“Wow, Lee Seokmin and Jeon Wonwoo as a couple,” Yejoon snickered. “Isn’t that different?”

“We aren’t a coup–”

“There’s no need to deny anything,” Yejoon whispered. “I won’t tell Mingyu.”

“Mingyu?”

“Don’t worry. Anyway” – Yejoon moved away from Wonwoo and smirked – “I guess I’ll see you at the dance,
Wonwoo.”

Or tomorrow morning, Wonwoo thought, as he watched Yejoon walk the other direction.

Still uncomfortable from Yejoon’s sudden appearance, Wonwoo brushed off his shoulders and shifted his glasses.
He continued down the walkway to meet up with Mingyu at the front gates. Turned out, Mingyu was already looking
at him there, but without his usual grin.

“Hey,” Wonwoo said as he walked past Mingyu, expecting him to follow. When he didn’t, Wonwoo turned around
and stopped walking. “You coming?”

“You were talking to Yejoon.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, we talked.”

Mingyu bit his bottom lip anxiously and asked, “Are you guys friends?”
 “Well, we’re something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What, do you not like him?”

“Yes, exactly – I despise Choi Yejoon.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Choi fucking Yejoon.”

“That’s not a good reason.”

“You’re not a good reason.”

“Mingyu, that doesn’t make sense.”

“And the fact that you talk to Yejoon doesn’t make sense either!”

Wonwoo started to get annoyed by Mingyu’s stubbornness. “I can talk to whoever I want, Mingyu. Let me make
new friends!”

“Fine. You can be friends with anyone who isn’t Yejoon.”

“What the hell is wrong in being friends with Yejoon?!”

“He’s an asshole; that’s what’s wrong!”

“You're being kind of an asshole for calling him an asshole.”

“No I’m not!”

“I’m going to be late for the bus.” He relieved an irritated breath and shifted his glasses again. “You can either join
me or just stand here.”

So Wonwoo turned and walked to the public bus by himself, gratefully finding a way to get on without having to beg
the bus driver through thick windows and strong metal. He sat down, then pulled out a book to help him ignore the
sounds of Mingyu calling out his name from outside the vehicle.

April 16th, 2013

The moment Mingyu made his first step on campus, a light force attacked him on his left arm. Flinching back, he
looked aside and saw Jihye grinning widely as she held him, her bangs clipped away from her face.

“Morning!” She giggled. “Are you ready for school today?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes and continued up the steps with Jihye clung to his arm. “More ready than ever,” he said with
fake enthusiasm, “bring on that math quiz!”

“Speaking of ready,” she dragged on, “I’m ready for my public speaking hour at student council. Take me there?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend for this?”

Jihye slumped. “He’s giving his speech at another school today, so I don’t have anyone else to walk with.”

“Ask Wonwoo.”

“He’s not here yet.”

“Seokmin?”

“He’s in Park’s class with Jun.”

“Don’t you have any friends that are girls?”

“Yeah, but they hate going to the student council room because that’s where Yejoon hangs at.”

That explained a lot. No one at school liked Yejoon, maybe with the exception of Wonwoo (but Wonwoo was just
too nice to hate anyone). The girls especially hated Yejoon, for his disrespect towards them and inappropriate flirting.

“I’ll take you there” – Jihye countlessly repeated a multitude of thank you’s and I love you’s, but stopped when
Mingyu held up a finger – “but you have to buy me red bean buns for lunch.”

“I’ll buy you three.”

On their way to the fourth building of the school, where the government and science classes were located, they came
across a few classmates who greeted them with curt and seemingly meaningless hello’s. While passing a line of
lockers, Mingyu glanced to his left and found Yejoon standing by the double doors with a lollipop stick between his
lips. He internally begged the universe to allow him to pass Yejoon without getting noticed, but unfortunately their
eyes met and Mingyu knew things were already going to go south.

When Mingyu tore his gaze away, he heard Yejoon say, “Morning, Kim! Been meaning to talk to you!”

“Ignore him,” Jihye whispered, keeping her head low.

“You’re a player, right?” Mingyu, from where he was, heard the cracking sound of Yejoon’s lollipop moving against
his teeth. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve dated a lot of girls.”

They’d already passed Yejoon by two steps. “Mingyu, let’s just go.”

“But, I’m curious” – Yejoon paused, and it stopped Mingyu from walking away – “why haven’t you dated a guy?
You know, test the waters. Like… let’s say, Wonwoo?” Oh, that’s where this is going. “He’s a keeper, isn’t he? He’s
hot, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you chose him over a girl as plain as Jihye.”

Mingyu felt Jihye’s grip tighten and her nails dig through his blazer as anger built up within her. Through gritted
teeth, she mumbled, “Let’s get out of here before he starts anything.”

It’s too late for that, Mingyu thought, because his daily act of jackass-ery is already here.

But he obliged. He lead them away from the lockers, where the attention of a few students were already pointed in
their direction, and tried to walk through the building doors as casually as they could.

The thing about Yejoon was that he was a two-option type of person. When it came to situations like that, his mind
had a true or false system: Either A) “They aren’t listening, so I’ll just bother someone else,” or B) Irritate them more
until I get what I initially wanted. There was no in between, and there was no C option. His minimum and maximum
were just two.

So Mingyu was only half surprised when Yejoon didn’t say anything back.
Instead, Mingyu heard a loud pat beside him. He widened his eyes in thought of Jihye possibly giving in and striking
a move on Yejoon, but when he felt her shake his arm, he turned around and realized she didn’t. Rather than her
being the one who slapped him, he saw Yejoon standing behind her, leant dangerously close to her ear.

Yejoon smirked, whispering to her, “No hard feelings, though.”

As Mingyu snaked his eyes down, an immediate sprout of outrage took over his movements. Yejoon slapped Jihye’s
ass.

In a swift move, Mingyu grabbed the collar of Yejoon’s uniform, yanked him away from Jihye, then slammed him
against the lockers. “WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH HER LIKE THAT?!” He
shouted, his nose just centimeters away from Yejoon’s.

Yejoon groaned at the impact. “Why should you care? She’s not dating you; you’re not her boyfriend. As far as I can
see, you’re dating the introverted little shit Jeon Wonwoo.”

Mingyu pulled Yejoon away from the wall, only to shove him back less than a second later. Jihye flinched as the
metal of the lockers shook. “Stop making interpretations about people’s lives and just fucking get your head out of
your ass. You can’t touch her like that, it’s sexual assault, you fucking shit!”

“Sexual assault, huh?” Yejoon quirked an eyebrow mockingly. “So, because I touch even more girls than her –
who’re, by the way, a lot more appealing that Jihye, full offense – that means I’ve committed sexual assault more
than once?” He scoffed then looked at Jihye from over Mingyu’s shoulder, grinning when he saw her play with the
ends of her hair apprehensively. “Usually, girls like it when I touch them. You’re different, Jihye; I have to admit!”

Forcing Yejoon even closer to the wall, Mingyu said, “Don’t think you’re all that just because a few girls are into
your whole badass act. I don’t know how it was at your old school, but here, we don’t deal with shit like you.
Everyone on campus is disgusted by you, and the only person who’s had enough heart to not hate you is Wonwoo.”

“Oh, I love it when Wonwoo’s brought up.” Yejoon grinned menacingly. “He’s probably the best person I’ve ever
met, but it’s kind of sad seeing how his stupidity blinds him from seeing the difference between wrong and right.
And it’s no wonder so many girls and guys are after him. Seokmin, Eunji, a couple low-lives in class, you, and” –
He paused to innocently blink at Mingyu twice and cock his head aside – “me.”

Yejoon spoke more than necessary, but it was enough to entertain the crowd. In fact, that’s exactly what he wanted:
Attention from his peers and attention from strangers.

"Don’t bother going after Wonwoo. You're an awful person and don't deserve him."

He smirked, tossing away his lollipop stick nonchalantly. "Don't you think that's bit harsh to say?" Yejoon laughed
when he saw Mingyu’s jaw clench. “But whatever. Wonwoo’s just a toy, anyway, and I’ll bet you a thousand fucks
that I could get him in my pants before you could even–”

Just like that, Mingyu’s fist connected to Yejoon’s nose in a roundhouse punch. The punch was followed by Jihye’s
terrified shriek that shot through one ear and out the other. The students around them gasped, scurrying away to safe
distances where they were still able to watch, rather than circling around the two.

“Motherfucker,” Yejoon hissed as he held his hand below his bloody nose, droplets of crimson pooling at his palm.

Mingyu huffed, taking three steps away from Yejoon as he cracked his neck and shook the hand he punched with.
“Someone had to do it, right?”

Jihye was gone by then, off elsewhere in search for Seokmin and Junhui, maybe even Wonwoo if she could find him.
Using his blazer, Yejoon wiped away the blood. With fire in his eyes, he blindly leaped forward. Mingyu,
incorporating the self-defense techniques he was taught in boxing, ducked and shifted aside as he stood up again.
Yejoon tried to dodge the tough-knuckled punch to the temple that Mingyu was aiming for, but failed when his
reflexes weren’t fast enough. He was knocked to the side. Yejoon helplessly supported his weight against the wall,
his eyes closed as he tried to endure the pain. There was a murmur of gasps and horrified squeals that noised over
Yejoon’s painful moaning, and even if Mingyu had done the entire student body an unasked favor, he felt guilty for
hurting Yejoon.

“I never expected to lose to a pup,” was all Mingyu heard from Yejoon before he felt himself be dragged away by a
set of warm palms and ice-cold fingertips.

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“You’re insane.”

“But a hero.”

“And you totally fucked up his goddamn nose.”

“But Yejoon looks better than ever.”

“And now you’re going to be suspended.”

“But it was worth it.”

“Stop that!”

Junhui and Seokmin were in the nurse's office with Mingyu. He was sitting on the leather nurse bed, an ice pack
pressed to his swollen eye. Jun was frantically pacing back and forth, rambling his thoughts on the fight, while
Seokmin sat in a chair and played with the Happy Meal toys on the nurse’s desk.

If Jihye didn’t find Jun and Seokmin, Mingyu and Yejoon would’ve murdered each other on the spot. Junhui and
Seokmin were the ones who ended the fight completely – Seokmin escorted Mingyu to the nurse; Junhui helped
Yejoon back to his feet – but arrived late nonetheless.

Mingyu looked down as he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“You better be!” Junhui shouted, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“Hey” – Seokmin chucked a small My Little Pony plush at Junhui’s throat – “give Mingyu a break. He was teaching
the asshole a lesson for touching Jihye.”

“But–”

“Jun, he slapped Jihye’s butt, okay. In what world would that be acceptable?”

“No world.”

“Exactly” – Seokmin put the toys back – “so give it a rest and be thankful that they’re both still breathing.”

Then, the door swung open and in came Wonwoo. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down to the
sound of his huffs and puffs. Because Jun was in the way, he shoved him aside and marched to Mingyu.

“You dumbass!” Wonwoo yelled, punching Mingyu’s aching forearm with as much force he could apply (which was
a lot).
Groaning from the punch, Mingyu said, “I know, I know. You don’t need to call me that.”

“Do you know how badly you could've been hurt? Now look, your eye is swollen and there’s blood on your knuck–
OH MY GOD THERE’S BLOOD! MINGYU-AH!” Before Wonwoo could punch Mingyu again, Seokmin grabbed
Wonwoo’s raised fist and stopped him. “Seokmin, let me punch him!”

“Wonwoo, calm down,” Seokmin said, trying to appease him.

“No, I won’t!”

“Let him explain–”

“He fought someone” – Wonwoo struggled out of Seokmin’s grip – “and he was at an advantage because he does
boxing and can punch hard as hell. It was an unfair fight!”

“Guys,” Mingyu blurted abruptly, quiet, but loud enough to make the room go silent, “can you leave us alone for a
bit?”

Seokmin and Junhui nodded, and as they walked out the room together, Mingyu heard Jun mumble, “Damn, who
knew Wonwoo could be so aggressive to Mingyu?”

The door closed. “Let me see it,” Wonwoo said, vague, but straight to the point.

Mingyu removed the ice pack from his eye. He felt the surrounding skin throb as it began to give him a headache.
All he wanted to do was rest. “I’m stupid, aren’t I?”

Sighing, Wonwoo walked to the nurse’s bathroom and returned with a damp towel. As he gingerly used it to clean
off the blood, he said, “You really fucking are.”

“He slapped Jihye’s ass,” Mingyu murmured, closing his eyes as he tried to find the right words that’d explain
everything, “and before that, he wouldn’t stop trying to get on our nerves. All I wanted to do was take her to the
student council room. Then he” – Mingyu hesitated – “started saying all this stuff about you and called you a toy. He
wanted you to, um… get in his pants. Like, I don't even think he likes boys? So, yeah, I was angry.”

Wonwoo then understood. It made him become more thankful to have Mingyu as his best friend, and he didn’t mind
the fight anymore. The only thing Wonwoo regretted was trying to see past Yejoon’s bad personality and habits.

“Just promise me that you won’t punch him again,” Wonwoo said, staring at Mingyu softly, “or, you know, anyone
else.”

Their faces weren’t very far apart, and Mingyu was able to feel Wonwoo’s steady breathing on his lips. “I won’t,”
promised Mingyu, and he sounded like he actually meant it, “I hate fighting outside the ring.”

“Okay. Thank you… again.”

“I’m probably getting kicked out of boxing.” Mingyu half smiled without any teeth showing. “But, hey, I finally
found a way to protect you. I guess I should be a little happy.”

“No more protecting,” Wonwoo laughed. “Just keep being my best friend.”

Finally, before the nurse and their friends walked in, they embraced each other. It was a warm, heartfelt hug, and
despite how Mingyu’s muscles hurt from it, he didn’t mind. All wanted – needed – was to be in Wonwoo’s arms,
safe.
 Balling his hands to fists, Wonwoo grabbed handfuls of Mingyu’s blazer and snuggled closer. “I don’t want to see
you hurt like this again. Please don’t fight anymore.”

Mingyu meekly nodded as he held Wonwoo tighter and whispered, “I promise.”

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Before the clock reached noon, Mingyu was sent home early and suspended for a whole week. His mom was
incredibly disappointed in her son for fighting another student, but when Wonwoo explained what happened, she
only grounded Mingyu for two weeks and decided to not let him leave the house without her until she changed her
mind about it. She and Yejoon’s mother met in the school’s front office on their way out, and when she gave a sincere
apology and kind smile, the latter spat on her shoes.

“This piece of garbage embarrassed my son,” she grumbled as she scowled at Mingyu’s mother, who only stood
there in shock. “You raised an animal.”

Mingyu grabbed a tissue off the office desk and cleaned the saliva off his mom, but when he looked up to watch the
other family leave, he noticed the embarrassment on Yejoon’s beaten face.

Don't become like that, Yejoon.

As Mingyu, alongside his mother, walked off campus, cherry blossom petals were crushed at his toes and heels. At
the same time, however, every step lead to the fall of another petal that graced to the asphalt. The breeze was light,
still strong enough to keep his hair flowing in the same direction, while the sun peeked through the openings of the
trees. How could the world look so pretty on an unfortunate day, Mingyu didn’t know.

12
July 23rd, 2013

A place that Wonwoo missed visiting was the library. As a kid, he sometimes snuck out the house and read books
until his mother would find him and drag him out the building by the ear. His favorite place to read from was the
fiction section of the library, and he read there so often that he knew where every book resided in that area. The
librarians grew to like Wonwoo’s company, enjoying the quiet and reserved aura he displayed. However, ever since
he started middle school, things changed. He met Mingyu; he had a best friend. There wasn’t any time for him to
stay at the library, so there was no point in going. Thus, the library that was once his favorite place in the whole
world became a place in the back of his mind.

He decided to go back over summer, maybe with Mingyu if he wanted the company. He wasn’t sure if Mingyu really
enjoyed reading, though, but he assumed it was worth the try.

“Hey, do you want to visit the library with me?” Wonwoo asked Mingyu from across the room.

They were going through a cramped convenience store in search of snacks for Chan, since he’d just returned home
from an examination on his broken leg. They felt sorry for the kid, knowing how much he loved dancing, so they
decided to go out and buy his favorite snacks to make him feel better.

“Library?” Mingyu threw a bag of kettle chips across the store for Wonwoo to catch. “Since when did you go there?”

Wonwoo caught the chips and put it in their shopping bag. “I used to always go there before I met you.”

“Wonwoo, do you even realize how long ago that was?”

“Very long ago.”

“Right” – Mingyu walked over to Wonwoo and took the shopping bag – “and why would you want to suddenly go
back?”

Wonwoo shrugged as he, alongside Mingyu, approached the counter. “I just miss it, I guess.”

The cashier monotonously declared the due amount, and Mingyu handed the exact change. He turned to Wonwoo
and smiled.

“Okay” – He held the loops of the plastic bags then tugged them off the counter – “let’s go to the library.”

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Chan was more than happy when Wonwoo and Mingyu entered his room with snacks in their hands. He stretched
out his arms and flailed them as he chanted “GIMME GIMME GIMME,” the bed shaking as he squirmed. Mingyu
was the first to toss him a to-go pack of chocolate chip cookies, and Chan caught it with both hands. Immediately,
he tore the plastic off and stuck a cookie in his mouth.

“You guys” – He smacked his lips as he chewed on the cookie – “really” – Smack – “didn’t have to” – Swallow –
“get me all of this.”
Wonwoo chuckled then placed the bags on the nightstand beside his cousin. “But we did, so you better appreciate it.
Is any of this making you feel better?”

Chan hummed, biting into another cookie. “I feel way more than just better, hyung. I feel like I’m completely healed
and that the world has blessed me with its precious valuables.”

“Dino,” Mingyu chortled, “it’s just a bunch of junk food.”

He glared daggers at Mingyu as he grabbed his cookies protectively and said, “Junk food, in which I love.”

Wonwoo smiled fondly as he watched his cousin eat happily. It was almost as if their mission to make him forget
about the injury succeeded, and that was all he had hoped for. Chan did good things, so when bad occurrences
stumbled upon him, all there was left to do was blanket it over with another good thing. This was the good thing.

“How’s the leg?” Wonwoo asked, using his thumb to stroke the kneecap of Chan’s uninjured leg.

“It’s okay, I guess,” Chan replied with food stored in his cheeks and crumbs stuck to the edges of his lips. “I haven’t
felt anything in the past hour and a half, but that’s probably because of the pain killers.”

Mingyu sat at the end of Chan’s bed. “Does this mean the school talent show is off for you?”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo hissed in warning, looking over his shoulder as he glared at his friend.

“Oh, ah – sorry,” Mingyu stuttered. “Was that, uh– was that too insensitive of me? Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

Chan simply laughed, wiping away the crumbs and swallowing his food. “It’s okay, hyung.” He threw his head back
against the stack of pillows behind him and looked at the ceiling. “But, yeah. It’s off. I can’t perform because of my
leg, so I’m kind of kicked out.”

The disappointment in Chan’s voice was subtle, but not unnoticeable. Everyone knew how hard Chan worked for his
performance, however during a spin that was meant to end in a Michael Jackson pose, his ankle twisted and he
stumbled off the stage. The administrators, and other contestants who witnessed the incident, murmured a buzz of
gasps before a ballet talent urged someone in the crowd to call for help. Right then and there, Chan knew he was
unfit to participate in the talent show, and he tried his best to hide his dejection ever since.
“How about this,” Mingyu offered, breaking the silence, “once you’re all healed up and ready to show off some
dance moves, we’ll hold a little concert for you.”

Wonwoo grasped the idea and smiled. “And we’ll be your audience, maybe with Seungcheol and Minsuh, too.”

The light that shone in Chan’s eyes seemingly brightened up the entire room. “I’ve never really met Seungcheol-
hyung before, but it’ll be so cool if he watches me dance!” He looked at his cousin. “Do you promise to make this
concert happen?”

Wonwoo glanced down at the pinky Chan was sticking up. “I do,” he promised, locking their pinkies together, “and
you’ll love having us as your audience.”

Chan then asked if the three of them could play a video game together, and the boys easily agreed to it. One of
Wonwoo’s cousins interrupted them in the midst of their – as Mingyu called it – hardcore Super Smash Bros battle,
and she sat hip-to-hip with Chan as she stared at the screen, sipping on a box of melon milk while she was at it. They
didn’t mind her presence, but they figured that they were better off without the sound of her empty milk box
overpowering the TV’s audio.

A couple of video games later, Wonwoo’s cousin left the room for another box of milk and Chan dozed off to sleep.
Mingyu bobbed his head at the door to signal that it’d be better if they were to let him sleep, but once they were out
the room, Wonwoo backtracked his way inside again. “Wonwoo, what’re you doing?” Mingyu whispered from the
hallway. Wonwoo held a finger to his lips to shush the latter, and then opened a pencil case that was set on top of an
underwear drawer. He quietly scavenged through it for a pen, and when he found one, he snuck up to Chan with
hushed movements.

Mingyu remained in the hallway, between a stack of cardboard boxes and vacuum cleaner, and waited patiently.
Wonwoo sure had a crowded home, and with the never-ending sound of children squealing in the living room and at
the front yard, the student wondered how his best friend slept at night. Maybe he didn’t, maybe Wonwoo didn’t need
sleep. Maybe Wonwoo didn’t hear at night. Maybe Wonwoo liked sleeping when it was noisy. Maybe he was some
sort of vampire who was saving Mingyu’s blood for later.

Wonwoo was weird.

“Done,” Wonwoo sighed as he shut the door behind him.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at the seventeen year-old then said, “You drew on his face, didn’t you?”

Wonwoo held out his phone and showed Mingyu the illuminated screen. “A mustache, unibrow and ‘I HEART MJ’
on his forehead, to be exact.”

“You’re evil.”

“And full of mysteries.”

Their next stop was the library, which was just a bus ride away from Wonwoo’s house. The building looked blander
than he remembered, and the interior was no different compared to the outside. Wonwoo remembered the place as a
more appealing and lively haven for his younger self, but after years of not paying any more visits, everything was
different. His point of view altered, changed and renewed. He was disappointed.

“This,” he murmured, “isn’t what it looked like before.”

Mingyu looked around and took in the scenery. “Don’t all libraries look like this?”
Flustered, Wonwoo replied, “N-No. This is different. This library was my favorite place of all places, but now it just
seems so ugly and boring.”

“Jeez, don’t offend the library,” Mingyu joked, dramatically petting the off-white walls. “What’d it ever do to earn
your judgment?”

Wonwoo chewed on his bottom lip. “More like what I did to leave it behind.”

Mingyu blinked as his expression softened. His best friend seemed genuinely disappointed, his eyes roaming every
speck of the library in search for something to remember. But there wasn’t anything, or at least not anything that
seemed significant in any way. He was still chewing on his bottom lip as his fingers pinched the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey,” Mingyu said, moving off the wall and kicking the heel of Wonwoo’s shoe, “don't be such a downer. You
wanted to come here, right? Go read a book or something, and maybe it’ll get your mind off of things.”

“But where do I start? Everything’s so plain and barf-worthy here.”

He rolled his eyes, nudging Wonwoo’s back forward. “It’s a library, man. You’re bound to find something.”

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They were in the library for three hours.

The moment Wonwoo started to wander down the aisles of dusty, tattered books, he couldn’t stop. Book by book, he
became more engrossed as he read a chapter from each. He flipped through pages, used his phone to look up the
ratings online, and placed them back, making mental notes to read them some other time.

Mingyu, on the other hand, was sitting at a mahogany table, waiting for Wonwoo to finish. He didn’t mind at first
(the stranger playing chess on a computer across from him provided enough entertainment to make dying feel slower)
but after an hour of waiting, he felt the boredom kick in. Sighing, he turned away from the screen, looked aside, and
leaned back to check on Wonwoo. He wasn’t where Mingyu expected him to be, so curiosity took over his senses
and guided his feet to the shelves.

The smell of old books and elderly librarian gave Mingyu the urge to sneeze. During the first minute of walking up
and down the aisles of the fiction section, Mingyu sneezed more than three times, and the middle aged woman who
stood near him flinched back to keep away. Mingyu simply bowed in apology and walked away with his head dipped
down.

“Why can’t I stop sneezing?” Mingyu whispered to himself after he recovered from another sneeze.

“Allergies?”

Abruptly, a section of books were split aside as a person’s face revealed between them, making Mingyu to yelp and
jump back in shock. With his hand over his frightened heart, Mingyu gave the person a glance then rolled his eyes.

“Wonwoo, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll never take you to the library.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes and said, “We all know that’s a lie.”

Ignoring Wonwoo’s words, which were in fact true, Mingyu asked, “So, are you done or what?”

“Not just yet.” Wonwoo held up a poetry book and showed Mingyu through the small space the shelf provided,
grinning as he did so. “I’m going to read this real quick, and then we can leave.”
Mingyu read the title of the book. The cover had a plain, monochromic drawing of two people peering down at the
edge of a sidewalk – a sidewalk with no ground beneath it. A dog was hanging from behind, crumbles of concrete
chipping off little by little.

“Where the Sidewalk Ends,” Mingyu read, examining the cover.

Wonwoo’s eyes grew wide as he grinned euphorically. He moved away from the shelf and walked around it so that
he was in full view with Mingyu. “Also known as the best children’s poetry book of all time,” he said, handing
Mingyu the object.

Poetry. There was always some sort of distaste that came with the word, Mingyu believed, because of how complex
the structure and wording always was. Poetry intended readers to dig deep within its context, and Mingyu found it
head-spinning. Too much reading. Too much brain use.

And it wasn’t that Mingyu was dumb, nor was he very lazy; he just had certain interests that books and poetry,
especially works created before the time of contemporary literature, wouldn’t satisfy. He found a type of fascination
in adventurous and daredevil-ish acts that made the blood in his system flow rapidly. He enjoyed the rush, he enjoyed
the feeling after risking so much and surviving afterwards. Literature did none of that for him, which was why he
couldn’t relate to his best friend’s liking towards two and a half inch books about wizards, and poems illustrated by
unusual doodles.

Shrugging while handing the book back, Mingyu said, “Alright, I’ll stay a while longer and wait for you.”

Wonwoo’s eyes sparkled – literally sparkled – as he took the book back, held it against his chest, and nudged his
face closer to his best friend. “Seriously?”

“Why not?” Mingyu started walking to the table he sat at earlier, and Wonwoo followed beside him. “The library’s
filled with weirdly scented books, and teenagers who have nowhere else to go as they hang out with friends, and
elderly librarians who hardly smile. All my favorite things.”

Wonwoo caught on the hint of sarcasm that Mingyu expressed and poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
“I thought you said you didn’t like reading and old people who hate smiling.”

“I’m doing this for you,” Mingyu sighed, while taking a seat in a wooden chair, watching as Wonwoo sat across from
him. “Ice cream afterwards?”

(Ice cream was by far the most commonly used forgive-me-because-I-love-you bribe between Wonwoo and Mingyu.
Anyone who was acquainted with them knew that they’d never stay mad at each other – it was common sense – but
ice cream made the problems vanish easily. They got ice cream so often that the workers of the parlor got used to see
them walk through the door.)

Wonwoo grinned and opened the book. “Of course.”

During the time that they were in the library, nothing eventful occurred. Wonwoo was too occupied by his book too
talk to Mingyu, and he was so engrossed in it that he didn’t notice when Mingyu spent a good amount of time
contemplating between snacks from the vending machine. He couldn’t decide if he was more in the mood for pretzels
or kettle corn, and after staring at the machine for longer than he should have, he walked back to the table and asked
Wonwoo for some money. When the latter half-mindedly pulled out enough cash for the bag of kettle corn, he shoved
it at Mingyu’s chest and waved his hand in dismissal. Mingyu teased his best friend with obnoxious kissy faces in
thanks, only to earn a twisted look from Wonwoo in return.

A while after that, Mingyu got bored again, but ran out of money, which cancelled “purchasing more snacks” off the
list of things to do. He shifted in his seat multiple times as extreme boredom seeped into his skin. He leaned back,
rested his head on the table, sat sideways, and even did planks on the chair. When Wonwoo kicked Mingyu from
under the table to stop moving, he whined.
“I’m so bored, Wonwoo,” Mingyu moaned, pressing his cheek against the table.

Wonwoo flipped a page. “Not my problem.”

He sat upright and rolled his eyes. “Cold as ice.”

The sixteen year-old was desperate for something to keep him busy, and since there was a library, he gulped at the
idea that came to mind. He was going to read a book. Holy fuck, Kim Mingyu was going to read an actual book made
of actual paper. Desperate measures lead to strange outcomes, but Mingyu knew this was just too much to swallow
in one take.

He got up, quietly snuck his way to the fiction books – so Wonwoo wouldn’t notice and tease the shit out of him –
and looked through the shelves for something decent. Of course, as anyone would expect, Mingyu judged books by
their covers. He loved excitement in illustrations, but also found simplicity appealing (because he didn’t want to read
something with a cover as eye-bruising as a fourteen year-old girl’s MySpace page). In the end, he found a copy of
Looking For Alaska and returned to his seat.

“Where were you?” Wonwoo asked from behind the pages of his book. Mingyu paused just before his butt touched
the wooden seat, his face scrunching together as he mentally cursed. When he didn’t answer, the latter tugged his
book down to look at Mingyu. “Why aren’t you answering m– Oh, God, you’re actually reading.”

Mingyu gave up and plopped down on his chair. “Reading means knowledge, and knowledge is key.”

Wonwoo snatched Mingyu’s book from his grasp and scanned over the title. Right away, he snickered and raised his
eyebrows at his best friend. “John Green? Really, Mingyu?” He slid the book back to Mingyu. “Okay then, good
luck bawling your eyes out when you’re done. I didn’t cry when I read it, but I know that you can’t handle the things
the author wrote about.”

“It’s a temporary read,” Mingyu snapped, opening the book as he spoke. “I’ll never touch this book again after today.”

Mockingly, Wonwoo raised his eyebrows and looked back down at his book. “Whatever you say, Mingyu.”

“Wha– I swear! This will be the last time you’ll ever see me read in a library!”

“I know you, dude” – Wonwoo set his book back down and leaned over the table to look at Mingyu straight in the
eye – “and I can guarantee that, that will make you want to read until the end. I won’t be surprised if you end up
coming back to complete it.”

Turned out, Wonwoo was right. One chapter easily became eight, and Mingyu was hooked. However, the moment
he thought “This book is amazing,” he did a double take and slammed it shut. Wonwoo jumped at the echoed sound,
but when he saw the flustered look on Mingyu’s face, he already knew.

“Shut up.”

Wonwoo grinned. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“I know” – Mingyu moved the book away from him and hid his face in the folds of his arms – “just, shut up. Your
shit-eating grin screams, ‘I win.’”

More time passed after that, but Wonwoo had already finished the book and started talking to Mingyu. The
conversation was aimless and wasn't focused on a single topic. Instead, they rambled for an extra hour or so, talking
about their plans for summer and going over some impromptu road trip with Seungcheol (that is, if he was even
willing to agree to their idea). Somehow, amidst the talking and occasional cackles, they found themselves looking
back at Mingyu’s fight against Yejoon all those months ago.
“No one hated you for that, you know,” Wonwoo said, earnest.

Mingyu hummed, his eyes torn away from Wonwoo. “No one’s even heard from Yejoon ever since. I heard his mom
kicked him out the house.”

And then there it was: The gut wrenching guilt that hadn’t dispersed a bit since the fight, even after months of not
laying an eye on Yejoon. There was no doubt in Mingyu’s mind that he was the main cause of Yejoon’s current
misfortune, since he was the one who initiated the fight in the first place. He could have ignored Yejoon. He could
have told Yejoon to simply stop. He could have listened to Jihye. But, as the selfish person he believed himself to
be, he did none of that and resulted in violence.

The sixteen year-old felt ghostly pain run over his knuckles as he thought back to the incident. He felt the blood from
Yejoon’s nose stain his fists, and was scarred with the image of his humiliatingly weak body attempting to keeping
himself on his feet. Then there was that cold grip that pulled him away, and all he could think of was Seokmin.

He had never properly thanked Seokmin for escorting him to the nurse.

Mingyu glanced aside and found a cup of marbles and flower pens. He reached over to remove the pens and scoop
up a handful of marbles before scattering them in front of him. He began to organize them in equal rows. “I still feel
bad about it,” he murmured, rubbing his knuckles with the opposite hand. “His mom can’t just kick him out like
that.”

“She's not exactly the best mother in the world, you know. Luckily, the school is giving him a second chance,”
Wonwoo stated, “because he didn't throw the first punch. He’ll probably be back next year, though.”

Then Yejoon’s voice appeared in Mingyu's thoughts. That cocky grin and stuck up posture flashed in his mind as he
thought back to what Yejoon said.

‘You’re a player, right?’

‘From what I’ve heard, you’ve dated a lot of girls.’

Mingyu hated himself for that. He never thought of relationships as some game, nor did he ever mean to mistreat any
girl he dated in the past. He dated because he liked them, but the inevitability of a mutual break up was always
relatively high. He never experienced actual heartbreak, and it somehow scared him.

“I think he was right.”

Wonwoo creased his eyebrows together. “About what?”

“How I’m always dating – girl after girl – without thinking much about my own feelings, nonetheless theirs.”
Wonwoo kept silent. “I know that I tend to like a different person after the other, but I always get over them like it's
nothing. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever fall in love. I don't know if it's because of what happened between my parents,
or because I’m confused, but all I know is that I won't be falling in love with anyone any time soon.” Once the rows
of marbles were aligned, there was an odd one that was left alone. Mingyu flicked the marble to Wonwoo. “Maybe
I never will. I want to experience the feeling, though.”

Wonwoo held the marble and stared at it for a while before darting it at Mingyu. Mingyu flinched as the penny-sized
object made contact with the space between his eyebrows, and when he sat up straight, he was greeted by a smile
from his best friend. It was a smile that could make the world pause for a moment, or at least make it feel that way.
Wonwoo’s smile was real and raw and all him, and it also brightened every aspect of his face. Crescent eyes, pink
lips, perked ears – Mingyu’s breath hitched. Wow.
 “You're still seventeen,” Wonwoo said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his stomach. “I'm sure
someone will come around and sweep you off your feet.”

And for a moment, Wonwoo’s smile and Wonwoo’s words made Mingyu believe in the possibility of love. Believing
– even if it didn’t last for too long – felt surreal.

13
August 30th, 2013

There was this one day, on a Friday, when Wonwoo began to discover a few things about himself: How greatly
Mingyu had affected his life, that he was afraid of something incredibly ridiculous, and his taste in footwear was
actually terrible. It was unusually cloudy that morning, the grayness blocking away the sunlight, and the streetlights
were still illuminating the paved roads to guide drivers and pedestrians. For Wonwoo, it seemed as if he were
attending school at dusk, which somehow made class more interesting for him. Then morning transitioned to noon,
and the clouds decided to give the sun a chance. It was sunny, contrary to how it was hours before, but there was
nothing to dislike about it.

“Remember to turn in your class expectation forms by Monday afternoon!” Wonwoo’s teacher reminded students,
over the sound of chairs screeching against the floors. “Make sure you also have journals as well!”

The seventeen year-old, as always, was the last student to leave the classroom. Heaving a sigh, he slung his backpack
over one shoulder and crinkled his nose to move his glasses up. A slight buzz came from the seam of Wonwoo’s
uniform blazer. Changing the course of his walk, he moved aside, leaned against a locker, then wiggled his hand
through his pocket for his phone. Peering down at the screen, he saw a notification bar illuminating Minsuh’s name
in bold with a text below it, only part of it showing for being so elongated.

“What does she want this time?” he murmured to himself. He swiped across the screen and tapped in his four-digit
passcode before reading the text.

To: Wonwoo
From: Minsuh
Ya girl got a date with a rlly cute barista from the starbucks!! Pick dino up for me please~ :>

Of course. What else was there to expect from a hopeful romantic like his cousin?

To: Minsuh
From: Wonwoo
you owe me

To: Wonwoo
From: Minsuh
Cut me some slack! I think I have a chance with this one

To: Minsuh
From: Wonwoo
you do you. i’ll pick up dino but you still owe me big time. have fun.

To: Wonwoo
From: Minsuh
ILY WONWOO!!!!!!! <3

To: Minsuh
From: Wonwoo
i’m expecting choco bread on my bed by the end of the day
 To: Wonwoo
From: Minsuh
The bakery is like 8 miles away from here fuck you

To: Minsuh
From: Wonwoo
language :o

“Hey” – Wonwoo’s attention averted to the person speaking – “I got this huge ass box of chocolates the other day,
but I haven’t been in the mood for them. Do you want the rest?”

It was Seokmin. He was still in his PE uniform, sweat sticking sections of his hair to his forehead like glue. There
wasn’t a foul scent, however, and his breathing was erratic.

Wonwoo asked, “Did you run here from the gym?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin huffed, running his fingers through his hair to push back his fringe, “because you usually leave
pretty early, so I thought I had to run.”

“Just for chocolate?”

“Oh, my God, yes, just for chocolate” Seokmin’s shoulders dropped in defeat, and Wonwoo laughed. “If you don’t
want the chocolate, I’ll give it to Junhui-hyung.”

Wonwoo detached himself from the locker. “I’ll take the chocolate. Where is it?”

The latter grinned, turning around. “It’s still in the locker room. Wait for me there?”

“Sure.”

They walked to the gym, getting there easily due to the low occupancy of the hallways. When they got there, Seokmin
jogged to the locker room, while Wonwoo waited at the corner of the bleachers, taking in the silence that echoed off
the brick walls. He was alone, and if it weren’t for the sun’s light, he guessed it would’ve been dark as well.

The gym was boring when it was empty, Wonwoo had to admit. It contrasted with what he was used to being
surrounded by; there wasn’t a murmur of shouts and squeaky shoes to fill the room’s silence, and something about it
made the place seem more enjoyable to sit at.

Here’s the thing: There were always two sides to a gym, and that’s not meant in a literal sense where one school is
on one side of the room as the opposing team stands on the other. A gym had two sides, two personalities: Quant and
empty, and filled past its maximum occupancy and loud. Wonwoo experienced more of the boisterous side of the
gym, surprisingly, because Mingyu sometimes participated in the annual basketball competitions their school held
(students from each grade were either chosen or volunteered to take part in the event, and whichever grades won –
freshmen vs. sophomores; juniors vs. seniors – earned trophies made by student council as rewards). Wonwoo
watched each game Mingyu played, and every year he improved.

With Mingyu’s basketball games in mind, Wonwoo took out his phone and swiped through pictures that he had of
the one that was held the year before. He remembered the day simply: With the scores tied a few seconds before the
last buzzer, Mingyu made the final shot and the sophomores won against the freshmen. Students jolted up from the
bleachers and raved wildly as Mingyu’s team members tackled him in a big group hug. Junhui and Seokmin – who
were on the junior team – reacted manically, running laps around the courtroom to make the crowd cheer louder. All
Wonwoo remembered about himself was the pride that fluttered in his stomach and stupid grin that refused to drop.
There was a click and squeak that caught Wonwoo’s attention, but he kept his head faced down. Through his
peripheral vision, Wonwoo saw Mingyu exiting the locker room, already changed out of his uniform. He side glanced,
seeing that in Mingyu’ hand was a stack of paper rolled into a tube shape, and he was resting his chin on it as it was
held vertically.

“Oh” – Wonwoo winced and turned his gaze back down to his phone – “Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo continued to scroll through the pictures.

“Hey.”

Ignore.

“Wonwoo.”

Ignore.

“Jeon Wonwoo.”

Ignore.

“Won-to-the-woo.”

Ignore.

Then, before he could react, Wonwoo’s phone was snatched away from his hands. His eyes shot up and met with
Mingyu’s, who was holding the device over his head so Wonwoo couldn’t reach. “Hey,” Wonwoo stood up from the
bleachers and leaned forward to retrieve his phone, but failed, “give it back!”

Mingyu held Wonwoo’s face away from him as the other arm – that was holding Wonwoo’s phone – extended even
further. “You can’t ignore me like that – jeez, kid.”

“I’m your hyung, you disrespectful doofus.”

“I don’t call you hyung; you should know that by now. Besides” – Mingyu stepped away to squint at the screen –
“what’s on your phone that seems more important than me? Is it another picture you took of your silver shoes?
Because those deserve to be burned.”

A spike of panic hit Wonwoo. Sucking in a breath and tightening his face with gritted teeth, he lunged at the younger.
But screw his cat-like reflexes; Mingyu stepped away, making Wonwoo fall face first on the gym floor. Ouch.

“You’re an asshole,” Wonwoo groaned, flipping over so that he was lying on his back.

Mingyu, ignoring Wonwoo, brought his attention back to the screen. It didn’t take long for him to grin egotistically
at the phone. “You were looking at pictures of me, weren’t you?”

Kicking Mingyu’s ankle hard, Wonwoo got up and smoothed out the wrinkles on his clothes. “I was just looking
through my photo album.”

“Liar,” the latter accused, hopping on one foot because damn was Wonwoo a strong kicker.

Wonwoo held his hand up to swat Mingyu, and he flinched back in defense. “Careful; the shorter I am, the easier it
is for your balls to be within striking distance,” he warned, scowling.
“Dangerous,” Mingyu teased, handing the phone back. “What’re you doing here anyway? You hardly ever stay five
minutes after the bell.”

“I’m here with Seokmin.”

Mingyu tensed. He was still uneasy at the mention of Seokmin, and he never knew how to react whenever the name
came up unexpectedly. Mingyu still had to say thank you, he still felt like he owed the junior, and he still wanted to
apologize for making him miss class because of the fight. Although he knew Seokmin had already brushed the
situation off his shoulders, Mingyu felt nothing but guilt nibbling his skin ever since.

“Seokmin?”

“Yeah.” Then the double doors of the locker room opened and in came Seokmin, changed into a fresh set of clothes,
a box of Godiva chocolates in his hand. “Oh, there he is.”

Mingyu hesitated before looking back and meeting gazes with him. Seokmin was smiling and waving, but the latter
only nodded awkwardly with his lips formed into a straight line. Mingyu hoped it’d pass as a greeting, one that was
at least a little polite, but there was more doubt than assurance to verify his assumption.

“Got it,” Seokmin said, handing Wonwoo the chocolates.

Wonwoo smiled as he took the box and opened it a little, a faint aroma of sweet cocoa filling the space around him.
“Thanks.” He closed the box. “Hey, I have to pick up my cousin in a bit. Do you want to come with me?”
Nodding, Seokmin answered with a yes. Wonwoo asked Mingyu the same question, but all he said was, “I can’t.
Sorry.”

Before Wonwoo could question him, Mingyu was already fumbling with his stuff and rushing out the gym.

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Seokmin and Wonwoo arrived at Chan’s school earlier than they expected, with fifteen minutes remaining before the
final bell. They sat by the brick platform that had two staircases: One that connected it to the blacktop and another
that lead to the main doors of the school. The ground was warm, but not warm enough to almost burn their skin;
instead, it felt like sitting over an electric heater.

“You know how people play those games where someone’s eyes are closed and the other person feeds them chocolate
to see if they could guess the right flavor?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“We should do that” – Seokmin removed the gray jacket he was wearing and tied it over Wonwoo’s eyes – “and
since it’s your chocolate now, you’ll be the one tasting.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, regardless of his friend not being able to watch him do so. It uncomfortable to have his
eyelashes feel pressed down by the jacket, but he didn’t mention anything of it. “Alright, let’s do it.”

The first piece was obvious: Dark. There was no filling, and there was no decorative drizzle over it; it was just a
chunk of dark, bitter chocolate. He didn’t like sweets – not as much as Chan – so it only made sense for him to
happily chew on the piece Seokmin fed him. After that, tasting the chocolates grew harder, especially when the
remnants of some flavors mixed with others. He didn’t do horribly; however, he failed to guess two of the flavors.
At the end of the game, some of the chocolates in the box were gone and being digested in Wonwoo’s body – but
there was one left.

“Are there any more?”

Seokmin nodded, grabbing the last piece and taking a bite. “Yeah, there’s one–”

“Ahhhh…” Wonwoo had his mouth open for the chocolate to be put in his mouth. Pausing, Seokmin stopped chewing
and looked down at the remaining piece of his chocolate. Without thinking of any other alternatives, he shoved it in
Wonwoo’s face (because Wonwoo decided to close his mouth at the wrong time, dammit). Tearing the jacket from
his eyes, he picked the bits of chocolate off his face and said, “Ugh, gross. Why did I even bother becoming your
friend?”

“My friendship comes gratis,” Seokmin joked, his lips tightening as he held in his growing smile. He helped pick off
the chunks and used his thumb to wipe off the smeared bits that cornered his lips.

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo said, “Like anyone would pay you to be their friend.”

“In my defense” – Seokmin wiped his hands on his jacket before throwing an arm over Wonwoo’s slender shoulders
– “I think a lot of people would want to befriend me.”

Thus, with an entire row of chocolate cleared (and the possibility of getting charged by a sugar high raised by less
than a quarter of a fraction), the boys decided to give it a break and talk instead, like they always did. There wasn’t
much that came out of the conversation, other than discovering the fact that Seokmin was apparently an aficionado
of quotes from other people, particularly dead people. It seemed like something that’d just appear from the back of
his mind, but the more he quoted, the more natural it seemed. It was almost like Seokmin was a never ending human
quote machine, and something about it was concerning.

“By the way” – He leaned to the side to could grab his phone from his back pocket – “I made a playlist of some songs
that I totally downloaded legally, and I wanted to know what you think of it.”

Wonwoo didn’t mind. He loved music, and he already knew that Seokmin loved music as much as he did, so there
was no doubt that the chances of the playlist consisting of good songs would be high. Wonwoo rapped (quite roughly,
to be honest, but he was no Tupac) and Seokmin sang. Their talents molded perfectly together, or almost to that
extent, at least. So, yeah, of course Wonwoo was going to accept his friend’s offer of listening to his “totally legal”
(he lied; the songs were definitely downloaded illegally) playlist.

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent,” Seokmin stated out of
the blue, as he handed Wonwoo a pair of earbuds. “Victor Hugo said that at one point, and probably only said it once
his entire life.”

“Do you always use quotes on a daily basis?” Wonwoo questioned, plugging the earbud cord in the phone jack. “You
seem to use them a lot.”

Seokmin put his playlist on shuffle then shrugged. “They make me appear smarter.”

“You don’t need quotes to make you look smarter” -–Wonwoo smiled – “because you’re already smart. That’s what
I like about you, you know?” Seokmin, distracted by the beginning instrumentals of the music, looked at Wonwoo
like a soft goddamn puppy – glazy eyes and everything – and his attention was completely undivided. “Maybe you
lack in academics – and by the way, I don’t blame you; our teachers are shit at their jobs – and… maybe you’re a
little too nice to others and less to yourself. And maybe you won’t ever live an entire semester with straight A’s. But
none of that matters because you’re still smart and one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. You’re musically gifted,
and I’ve seen your report card. Choir is, like, the only class you excel in.”

Then Seokmin caught himself staring at Wonwoo – maybe longer than he thought he did – and his eyes grew even
softer. It was suddenly so quiet. The music sounded as if it had turned into static, and while Wonwoo was still bobbing
his head side to side, he began to feel numb. And the numbness wasn’t bad; it was the numbing feeling that made
you feel at ease. His stomach lurched, his heart pumped, his arms chilled with goosebumps, and he just felt different.
It wasn’t like the feeling was new. Seokmin felt that way with a small number of people, all of which were people
he had feelings for sometime in the seventeen years he had lived. But there was no way he could like Wonwoo,
because it was Wonwoo, and Wonwoo was one of his best friends. Wonwoo was a person who had zero sense of
humor and lacked in any sort of psychological help whenever Seokmin had a problem to address. He wasn’t
Seokmin’s type.

Wonwoo paused, eyebrows moving together as he realization hit him. “Wait, was I rambling again?” He laughed.
“Mingyu probably rubbed off on me.”

There it is.

See, it was that contagiously radiant smile that always came with his laughs, his subtle habit of hiding his hands in
the sleeves of his sweaters, and crinkling of his nose before sneezing. He was easygoing and the opposite of
problematic. Almost everything – meaning everything small and unnoticeable to the naked eye – made Seokmin
smile just thinking of them. Regardless of the shitty attempts at being funny, and the useless advice Wonwoo offered,
the small things were what made people like him.

Seokmin was one of those people. Fucking hell.

“Wonwoo?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose as he hummed shortly and glanced over at him. He didn’t know what to say,
though. He didn’t know why he blurted his friend’s name, and he guessed it was on instinct. But, with Wonwoo
looking at him and waiting for him to say something, Seokmin had to make something up. “Is… it okay if I change
the song?”

Wonwoo looked away again, rested his head against the platform, and then nodded. “Go for it.”

The next song that played was a slow, moody melody that went well with rainy days. The singer’s voice, velvety and
soothing, complimented the main piano that played along with it. There was beauty within the tune of it, somberness
to the lyrics. The song – it was tragic, yet in the prettiest way. It was polar to the mood-lifting weather they were
finding comfort in, but it was too good to skip.

“I didn’t think you’d have emo-as-shit songs on your playlist,” Wonwoo joked, mindlessly tapping his fingers to the
music against his kneecaps.

“I like beautiful melodies that tell me terrible things, Jeon Wonwoo.” Seokmin craned his neck to the side and looked
at him with one eye open. “Tom Waits.”

Wonwoo laughed, light and breathy. He looked away from Seokmin, his head tilted upwards and against the platform
again. The song had hit the bridge and the singer’s voice was emitting from the earbuds. The light breeze slipped
through the thin spaces of Wonwoo’s hair as he lightly shut his eyes.

“And thus continues the never-ending quotes you’ll never stop using.”

“You should see me quoting teen fiction novels.”

Wonwoo laughed again. “Do what you want. They do distract people from the fact that you got a D on your algebra
mid-terms.”

“If you weren’t right, I’d totally punch you.”

“But you won’t. You like me too much.”

Seokmin’s clenched his fists, but not angrily. More than you think.
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The bell had already rung, but Chan wasn’t at his usual spot. Wonwoo began to panic slightly as the seconds passed,
in fear of his cousin walking home without him. He nibbled on his thumb, paced back and forth, and asked Seokmin
for the time every thirty seconds.

“Maybe we should look for him,” Seokmin suggested in a low murmur, after noticing that ten minutes had already
passed without a single sign of Chan.

“You’re right” – Wonwoo grabbed his friend’s hand and marched toward the building – “let’s go.”

(And if it were the right time, Seokmin would’ve admitted to being completely in favor of the physical contact
between them.)

Although they weren’t necessarily allowed to enter the building, considering that they’d never attended the school,
the boys blindly wandered the hallways in search for Chan. Some students that stayed for after school activities saw
Wonwoo and Seokmin roaming the halls. They glared at them suspiciously and nervously, wondering why a couple
of seniors were even touching the floors of their middle school.

“Uh, hi. Do any of you know where I can find a student named Lee Chan?” Wonwoo asked a group of male students.
Intimidated by Wonwoo, because of his height and dark gaze, they shook their heads and bowed lowly before
scrambling away from him. Sometimes Wonwoo hated how naturally intimidating he looked, but people called it
one of his charms, so he didn’t know how else to feel.

“We aren’t going to find him if we don’t even know our way through these hallways,” Seokmin groaned. He pointed
at the wall. “I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that locker three times already.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Seokmin, all of the lockers look exactly the same.”

“But that one’s different, I swear it is!”

He huffed, but was nowhere close to defeat. Chan just had to be somewhere, and maybe he just wasn’t looking hard
enough. Where would I be if I were him? He interrupted his thoughts when a heavy feeling of discomfort weighed
upon his lower region. By instinct, his eyes darted around for a restroom, and when he found one at the end of the
hallway, he walked faster in the direction of it.

“I need to pee,” Wonwoo notified bluntly, “so just, um, wait outside the restroom or something. I’ll be back.”

Seokmin furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head as he watched Wonwoo potty jog his way to the restroom. I
don’t understand why I even think of having feelings for someone like him.

Meanwhile, as Wonwoo entered the restroom, he heard a murmur of voices coming from inside. The voices were
mocking and foolish, and he heard one of them say Chan’s name. He hid at the corner of a tiled wall that divided the
stalls from the door, relieved when the people didn’t hear the door’s squeak over their voices. Peeking past the wall,
he finally saw him – he saw Chan.

“Din–”

Wonwoo stopped himself. He eyed the disturbed look on Chan’s face, noting how it lined with discomfort and
annoyance all at once. He was huddled at a corner by a group of four boys, holding his school bag closely to his chest
rather than on his back.

“And what’s this?” one of the voices scoffed. The others snickered. “An Adventure Time button on your bag? How
old are you, eight?”
Chan yanked his backpack away when they tugged at his collection of cartoon-themed buttons. They ‘ooh’-ed and
chortled with mockery at his small act of bravery. “Can you not touch them? Seriously.”

“Seriously? He said seriously!” another voice said. The boys laughed, all but Chan. “You’re called Dino by your
family, right? Or was it Jurassic Park?”

Chan glared at the person talking, and it was hard for Wonwoo to tell who. “What of it?”

“Tch. That’s so childish.”

“You’re already like, what, thirteen? Grow up.”

“Hey, dinosaurs are, like, extinct. If you’re ‘Dino’, then shouldn’t you be dead by now?”

They laughed.

“Can you shut up, please?” Chan mumbled, wincing at the word he ended with. He hated how ‘please’ and ‘thank
you’ became habits for him to say.

“What’re you going to do about it, Tyrannosaurus Rex?”

Hearing enough of the conversation, Wonwoo appeared from behind the wall and cleared his throat. All boys turned
their heads to him, and Chan’s eyes widened when he saw his cousin standing before them. Wonwoo looked ready
to murder the next bastard who’d tease Chan.

“Hyung…”

Wonwoo looked at the group of boys, taking mental photographs of their faces. “What’s going on?”

Chan barely responded. It took up most of what he had just to say, “Nothing, we were just playing around.”

“Then I suggest you stop playing so I can take you home.” Wonwoo nodded at the door. “You guys should be on
your way home, too.”

Two of the boys gulped, straying their eyes from the upperclassman. The other two showed little to no respect – one
smirked slyly as the other rolled his eyes, murmuring something incoherent to himself. Then, with a shrug from the
brunet of the group, they made their way out the door. One of them bumped shoulders with Chan, hard enough to
knock him aside and jab his hip against the corner of the sink.

“Hey” – Wonwoo grabbed the student’s collar as he passed, yanking him back so that they were meeting face to face.
Wonwoo was taller by several inches, but nonetheless, it didn’t seem to scare him – “watch it.”

He grinned, cocky and arrogant. “Mama ducks always look after their ducklings, don’t they?”

“What are you? Thirty? Don’t touch my cousin. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you’ve lived greatly enough to
understand the sense of duty or protection,” Wonwoo bit back.

The student glared at the former before shaking off his grip and following the others out the door. Once they were
out, Wonwoo turned to his cousin with furrowed eyebrows and hot temper. “Dino, what was that?”

Chan shook his head and forced a smile. “I’m fine, hyung.”

“I didn’t ask how you were.”

“I-I–”

“If you’re going to lie to me, then so be it, but I’m not tearing my eyes away from those guys.”

Chan only smiled wider. “I’m fine, hyung. Really.”

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The walk off campus was uncomfortably quiet, mostly for Seokmin. He felt the tension between Wonwoo and Chan,
and telling by their expressions something most likely happened when he wasn’t with them.

“So,” Seokmin said, breaking the silence, “where are you guys going next?”

“Home,” they replied simultaneously.

Awkward. “Oh.”

He slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants and looked away from them, wondering what else to say. Seokmin
wasn’t the best in these situations, so there was nothing he could really do that would help, not even crack a random
joke from the back of a Laffy Taffy wrapper. Instead, he glanced over at Wonwoo again and smiled. He was cute
when he was upset, shockingly.

Wonwoo made everything adorable, really. Contrary to how cold and heartless he looked, one tug to curl his lips
upwards changed everything. Seokmin loved the way Wonwoo’s eyes shined with pure happiness whenever he got
excited over something, and the way he patted his own cheeks to stay awake during a lecture. His smile, his eyes, his
voice.

He really, really liked Wonwoo. But that alone was scary as shit.

Seokmin wasn’t afraid of liking Wonwoo in fear of him not feeling the same way. He wasn't afraid of liking Wonwoo
because of the never-ending possibilities that could result from a confession. Seokmin wasn't afraid of how everyone
else would react. He wasn’t even afraid of any sort of heartbreak that could occur due to unrequited love.

“Wonwoo!”

All three boys turned to face the person that was shouting Wonwoo’s name, and they all came face to Mingyu. He
was running to them, his hair blown away from his face unattractively as he drew closer. His tie, rather than falling
over the split of his chest, was flying over his shoulder. At the sight of the person, Wonwoo and Chan smiled, but
Seokmin gulped.

No, Seokmin wasn’t afraid of liking Wonwoo because of anything he listed; he was afraid because something inside
him said that if he did, he’d be betraying Mingyu.

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Apparently Mingyu planned a special surprise for Wonwoo and Chan (mostly Chan). After Seokmin dismissed
himself from the group to give Jisoo a ride home from work, Mingyu immediately rushed his friends into Wonwoo’s
excuse for a truck. “To the treehouse!” he exclaimed, confusing both of the boys. But complying with his request,
Wonwoo did as he was told anyway.

They arrived at sundown, respect to the city’s dreadful traffic. The blushed colors of the sky reflected against the dry
dirt and trunks of trees, the lake’s water appearing as a pit of glitter. The leaf buds on the trees and bushes glared as
the sun shone against them. Wonwoo and Mingyu’s hideout suddenly looked more as a fantasy that a real life
location.

“So” – Mingyu took took a bite out of a piece of chocolate, taken aback at the sudden ooze of caramel that dripped
to his lips – “when’re you going to show us your performance?”

Wonwoo, while using the sleeve of his uniform to wipe off the caramel from Mingyu’s bottom lip, smiled as he side
glanced his younger cousin. “Yeah,” he agreed, “when’re going to, you know, dance and stuff?”

Shy, Chan stuttered but failed to form any response. His pants were scrunched to his knees, his arms supporting his
weight as he leaned back. He kicked his feet in the lake water, flinching back when the water splashed on his khakis.

“I didn’t know I was doing that today…”

Mingyu finished the rest of his chocolate. “Surprise!” he said enthusiastically, muffled as the chocolate filled his
cheeks.

“I don’t know, Mingyu-hyung…”

“Come on, we won’t judge!”

Chan chewed on his bottom lip. “My… feet are wet.”

“I’ll wet my feet and dance with you.”

When Mingyu moved from his position to get up, Chan held his arms out to halt him and screamed, “No! I mean,
no. I mean, maybe I’ll dance some other time.”

“When?” Wonwoo whined.

Chan smiled without teeth. “When I become a famous dancer in the future and open my own dance studio.”

“Dance studio?” Mingyu sat back down and grinned, engrossed. “Tell me more.”

“So” – It looked as if Chan was fizzing – “I’ll earn money by becoming a choreographer for a whole bunch of stuff,
and once I earn enough, I’ll open up a studio that everyone will call their, like, second home.”

Hearing Chan talk this way made Wonwoo proud. For someone his age, Chan already had his entire life planned out,
sketched and drafted. Every plan A came with a plan B, and every plan B came with its own plan A. Chan had always
been open about looking up to Wonwoo as a role model, but if anything, it should’ve been Wonwoo who looked up
to his cousin.

“Agh!” Mingyu threw his head back in frustration, his voice suddenly three times louder than normal. “How do you
have such realistic dreams, while I can’t even decide on what socks to wear?” Then, he snapped his head up to glare
accusingly at Wonwoo, who only blinked in response. “I swear, your entire family consists of a bunch of wizards and
magic.”

As Wonwoo opened his mouth to respond, a hushed “Whoa!” came from Chan as a flickering light passed him. All
three boys followed the speck of light with their eyes, and, as if stuck in a trance, stalked it far enough for them to
stop somewhere past the treehouse. Chan took the initiative to approach the light and trap it in his hands.

Wonwoo and Mingyu looked over Chan’s shoulders to stare at his clasped hands. Mingyu said, “Do you think it’s
a–”
Chan created a gap to see inside, but the light flew out and wandered off to the field. And as if on cue, like it was
calling for more light, the entire area of tall grass lit up in specks of yellow and neon green. The floor was glowing.

“Firefly,” murmured Wonwoo, finishing off Mingyu’s sentence and staring at the sight in awe.

Wonwoo remained in his spot as Chan ran to the center of the field, until he was surrounded in a circle of luminous
dots that varied from faint to apparent. He shouted, “Wonwoo-hyung, check this out!” then danced with the fireflies.
It seemed weird to dance without music, but Chan made his movements seem so natural that he didn’t need a song
to accompany him.

Mingyu cupped his hands around his lips to yell, “Amazing, Dino! You’re doing great!”

That gave Chan the confidence to dance with more effort, using his entire body to reenact the freedom and brightness
of a firefly. He did ballet, which Wonwoo never thought his cousin could do, and did a sissone. The fireflies, who
became his companions in that moment, made room for him to land gracefully and out of breath. Chan hadn’t danced
like that in months.

“That” – Chan huffed and puffed, his chest rising and deflating simultaneously – “felt… really good. It was fun.” He
turned to look at Wonwoo, smiling with eyes turned to dark slits. “I can see why you guys like it here so much.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I’m glad you enjoy it here, Dino.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Mingyu tugged his sleeve to catch his attention. He was still grinning when Wonwoo looked
up, and the lights were starting to dim. The sun had already disappeared into the city’s skyline, Wonwoo realized. “I
have something for you guys back at the treehouse.”

·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇

Mingyu had a pack of sparklers and a matchbox for the three of them to use.

Chan held a sparkler, his eyes dazzling like the child he was as he stared at the flickering lights in awe. Mingyu was
standing next to him with an unlit sparkler, part of his face exposed in the darkness. Wonwoo lit his own, and sparks
were jumping off the stick, slowly making their way to his end. The sudden revelation of Mingyu's entire face caused
Wonwoo to stiffen and make his heart accelerate. There was an unusual yet familiar twist knotting the nerves in his
abdomen, and the chances of his cheeks turning crimson were definite. He always knew this feeling – whatever the
hell it was called – was foreign and only recognizable around his best friend, and Wonwoo didn't know if he liked
the idea of that or not.
"Wonwoo, look!" Mingyu said, tapping Wonwoo's shoulder and holding the sparkler closer to him. Wonwoo
flinched back to keep away from the sparks, but Mingyu only drew closer. "Don't you love how they sort of, I
dunno, dance?"
Mingyu’s fascination in the (apparently) dancing sparks left Wonwoo dazing off and absorbed in his thoughts. How
could someone cherish something in such a way, even if they knew it'd go out eventually? Why was there that glint
in his eye that practically screamed “I never want this to end”? What word was there to describe Mingyu?
"Hyung," Chan spoke up from the side. His stick was still lit, but it wouldn't have been long until it would go out
completely. "What's brighter than sparklers?"
Wonwoo slowly looked over at Mingyu, who was smiling down at Chan, and right away he knew his answer.
Mingyu thought, Wonwoo’s silver shoes.
Wonwoo thought, Mingyu's eyes. Mingyu's smile. Mingyu's laugh.
 And when their sparks died off, so did the sight of Mingyu's face - Mingyu's everything. The phosphenes weren't
there either. It was completely black. Every part of him had dispersed into nothingness, leaving not a single trace in
the air. Wonwoo realized was terrified of this...
...he was terrified of losing Mingyu in the world of nothingness.

14
October 11th, 2013

Minsuh spilled the last carton of milk while making cereal. All the milk. It was easy to say that she was half awake, probably
less than half, but it pissed off Wonwoo nonetheless because it meant that he had to purchase a new carton himself. Irritated,
he shoved his cousin the “limited edition” sponge mop his uncle recently bought, and told her that he was going to buy
more milk. Minsuh didn’t clean the mess and fell asleep under the dining table.

Wonwoo left the house with tousled hair and droopy eyes, grabbing a set of keys off the key-rack on his way out the door.
Parked at the side of the road and in front of his house was a rigidity old truck that had a broken side mirror duct taped to
it, an Obama bobblehead situated on top of the half-working radio, and three air fresheners hanging from the rearview
mirror. Sadly, that truck was Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo had finally earned his driver’s license that year and was given the privilege of using his dad’s colleague’s cousin’s
old pick-up truck until summer vacation. There was no pay, aside from the gas and few fixations he had to make with
Junhui the day he received it, but there was an obvious reason why: The vehicle was practically just a bunch of rustic car
parts with a run-down motor attached. The inside was a literal pigsty of tortilla chip crumbs, empty Big Gulps from 7-
eleven, soda stains, candy wrappers, and brown apple cores that all should’ve been thrown out ages ago. Together, Junhui
and Wonwoo dealt with the mess, but there was no way Junhui was allowing the latter off that easy without owing him.
The younger had to promise him an all paid expense lunch at the mall in return, and the resulting amount of that meal was
a few coins more than he had (thank God the waiter was nice enough to let them off the hook).
After a violent yank at the car door of the driver’s side, Wonwoo sat in front of the steering wheel and turned the ignition
before closing the door. The static of the radio emitted from the speakers, along with the ugly sound of the car’s engine.
Sighing, Wonwoo buckled his seatbelt and drove off.
“The annual carni-fall is here and ready for visitors. Stop by today on Rainbow and Hillside, and maybe you’ll be able to
fetch whatever’s left of their smokin’ hot hot dogs. There’s a huge Ferris wheel; you won’t miss it!”

The announcer’s voice was annoyingly ecstatic and loud, too loud for anyone up at the ass crack of dawn. Unwilling to
listen for any more details about carni-fall, Wonwoo switched to a country music station, because it was better than
listening to a radio host ramble on about something he was unlikely to attend.
Pulling into the mostly vacant parking lot of a plaza nearby his house, Wonwoo parked at the entrance of his local market.
It was a Friday - a very early Friday at that - and three middle school students were huddled at the front, all digging through
one plastic bag to put food in separate ones. It looked like they were packing their lunches.
The glass doors slid open as Wonwoo walked in, the smell of dusty air filling his nostrils.
He was still dressed in the clothes he wore the night before, but had on a pair of sweats and a plain shirt, which was almost
socially acceptable to wear in public. A woman - freckled, thick and uniformed - welcomed the seventeen year-old, and
he smiled politely in return. Wonwoo walked past the fresh produce section and headed straight for the dairy. From afar,
he spotted the milk brand his family always purchased. Yanking open the fridge door, he grabbed the first carton and
rushed to the register, grabbing a bag of chips as he passed a rack of snacks.

“Good morning,” the cashier greeted warmly, scanning the carton and chips, and Wonwoo returned the greeting. “Is that
it?”
Wonwoo glanced at the stands of candy and spotted a cluster of Kit-Kats between two other chocolate brands. Chan’s
favorite chocolate was Kit-Kat. Grabbing it, Wonwoo held it up to show the cashier. “This too.”
After placing the candy bar on the conveyor belt, he waited shortly for the price to be told (not that he really listened since
the twenty dollar bill he had was definitely enough to pay). Handing her the money, Wonwoo waited again, this time for
cash back. His eyes began to wander, and when they glanced over to the right, they caught sight of a customer entering the
store. The boyish smile and tanned skin were too familiar to ignore.
“Yo,” Mingyu said, approaching him with hands tucked in the pockets of his black hoodie. “What brings you here?”

Wonwoo shrugged, replying with, “Minsuh’s clumsiness and my trait of being a good cousin.”
The cashier had Wonwoo’s change and was holding it out for him to take. He ignored Mingyu for a few seconds to take
the handful of bills and silver coins. Then, after he gave the cashier a curt nod and smile goodbye, Wonwoo turned to
Mingyu again. The younger was already holding the bag of groceries for him.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo said as he accepted the bag from Mingyu, “so what’s up?”

“Could be better, but I’m okay,” Mingyu responded. “You doin’ okay? Still sick?”
Wonwoo shook his head, stepping aside to let the next customer make his purchase. “I’ve been great, actually. Just
yesterday I was at another birthday party.”
But for Wonwoo, birthday parties didn’t mean drinking and partying to celebrate someone’s eighteenth birthday. Instead,
he worked for them, typically children’s parties. He was in search for a job for the past month, and when he was offered
one that promised good pay, he immediately accepted it out of desperation. Turned out, the job included him hiding in
smelly costumes that were suffocating to be dressed in for the whole day. When Mingyu found out about the job, he wanted
to take it too, but changed his mind when he noticed how sweaty Wonwoo ended up being one day after work.

Mingyu asked, “Dressed as?”

Wonwoo looked down, embarrassed. “A, um, pretty-pretty princess,” he mumbled.

The latter broke out into a loud cackle that attracted too much attention for Wonwoo’s liking. He slapped a hand on the
back of Mingyu’s neck and used the other one to cover his open mouth, letting the plastic bag slip to the bend of his elbow.
“I would’ve been Prince Charming, but lost in a round of rock-paper-scissors, okay?” Wonwoo hissed. “And stop laughing
so loud - God.” Mingyu licked his hand and Wonwoo recoiled immediately, wiping the saliva on his shirt. “You’re gross,
Kim.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off. “Hey, there’s a carnival nearby our places tonight. Join me?”

Wonwoo crossed my arms. “Why? So you can lick me again?”

“Don’t be a party pooper,” he sing-sang, invading the other’s personal space by moving his face closer. Mingyu’s voice
then became softer and he used his fist to bump Wonwoo’s shoulder lightly. “C’mon, high school students don’t even have
school today. It’ll be fun.”

Wonwoo ended up agreeing.

That evening, they met up at the carnival entrance, and rather than being greeted the usual way, Mingyu slapped two tickets
and a green wristband on Wonwoo’s forehead instead. He flinched back, blinking profusely to grasp what had happened.

“Bought the tickets,” Mingyu chirped, grinning. “You’re welcome.”

Scowling, Wonwoo swatted Mingyu’s hand away and accepted one of the tickets. He gave the inked cardstock a quick
onceover, reading whatever was printed on the paper. The word ‘Child Admission’ was typed in a bold typewriter font,
and right below it was a price small enough for eight bags of chips from the gas station. Wonwoo rolled his eyes. People
do anything to pay less.

Mingyu tugged at Wonwoo’s wrist, and before he could pull back, the younger wrapped the wristband around it. He wore
a matching one that covered a stick figure doodle that was drawn with a ballpoint pen. When he let go of Wonwoo’s wrist,
he held up his own.

“Would these count as couple rings?” Mingyu asked, showing off the wristband.
“Well” – Wonwoo started to walk towards the entrance, knowing that latter would follow – “these aren’t rings and we
aren’t a couple. So no.”
Mingyu’s only reply was a short hum.
The carnival wasn’t too occupied, not too vacant, and mostly consisted of teenage girls taking pictures of the crappy merry-
go-round located at the heart of the dirt lot. People who worked at the stands seemed happy though, despite the lack of
customers some of them had. Volunteer workers from high school clubs were prepping and cleaning, taking out and
replacing garbage bags or guiding attendees o where the port-a-potties were. Corn dog sticks and carnival flyers were
littered in the dirt people walked on, to which Mingyu disposed of himself.

“Might as well throw this stuff away to save these people some time and energy,” he said when he walked back to Wonwoo,
wiping his hands on his jeans to dust off the dry soil. He pointed a finger down the line of striped stands. “C’mon. There’s
a game that my friend works at over there.”

Said friend was lightly tanned and had a head of artificial auburn hair. He had a naturally flirty grin, twinkling eyes, and
was just a tad shorter than Wonwoo. Wonwoo scoffed upon noticing who it was: Wen greasier-than-fries Junhui.

“Wow, you actually came,” he joked, smiling and crossing his arms. He glanced over at Wonwoo with a welcoming
expression. “Brought a friend?”
“Shut up, hyung,” Wonwoo retorted.

“You know I love you, man.”

Wonwoo directed a lazy, fake smile at his friend, earning a loud laugh in return. He and Junhui, they were always like this.
They bickered, teased, and hit or kicked each other, but their actions were always done out of playfulness. Although neither
of them would ever admit it, they knew they’d hardly make it through highschool without each other.
“Help me earn some money and play a round,” Junhui teased, but serious nonetheless. “I’m saving up for a car so I won’t
have to deal with my parents buying me one like Wonwoo’s.”
Mingyu raised an eyebrow at the boy next to him. “Up for a round?”
“Sure.” Wonwoo grinned, eyeing the set of darts in front of them. “It won’t be much of a challenge against you.”

To prove a point, that he was better than Wonwoo, Mingyu threw a dart and popped a pink balloon, barely reaching past
Junhui’s face. The stand worker leered at him before blowing another balloon.

“Loser pays for dinner,” the taller of the two challenged.

Taking out some cash from his tattered wallet, Wonwoo slammed it on the counter, his gaze never leaving Mingyu’s
amused one. “Game on, Kim.”
Wonwoo ended up winning by using the method he found most effective: Constantly distract Mingyu by screaming every
time he tried throwing a dart. Flustered at his loss, Mingyu tried kicking a rock, missed, and hit the tip of his shoes against
the stand instead. “Hey!” Junhui screeched, flinging a deflated balloon at the younger. “Next time you kick the stand, be
prepared to die!” But Mingyu rebelled and kicked the stand again, and Junhui angrily flung another balloon at him.
Wonwoo’s victory prize was a gray stuffed elephant the size of his torso, in which Mingyu declared it to be named Ellie.
Taken over by a bubbly feeling, Wonwoo hopped up and down as they walked off. And despite how much he hated Mingyu
for kicking the stand, Junhui couldn’t resist happily watching the two walk away from the stand while stretching balloons
to blow.

“Looks like you’re paying for dinner,” mocked Wonwoo, as he walked further away from the latter.
Mingyu took two big steps to catch up and shrugged, looking away. “Whatever. How does corn dogs sound? It’s the only
thing I can afford.”

Wonwoo hated corn dogs but - “Sure.”

They talked for a while after that. The oldest didn’t feel like eating after talking so much at the picnic table, but there was
no way he’d waste something someone else bought him. The loss of his appetite lead them to spending more time eating
than actually playing carnival games and trying out the rides.

At some point, Mingyu pointed at Wonwoo’s food and asked, “Are you going to finish your corn dog?”
“Uh, probably not,” Wonwoo answered. He held it out towards the younger. “Want the rest?”
“Seriously” - Mingyu took the last bite and started chewing, the rest of his response coming out as muffled words - “you’re
really skinny. You’ve gotta eat more.”
“I eat a lot! The food just seems to go straight to my bones rather than turn into fat.”

“It’s a bit concerning.”

Wonwoo smirked. “What, are you worried about me or something?”

“Is it bad to say I am?”

“It’s actually very sweet of you to look after your hyung.”

Making a face, Mingyu said, “Oh, God, you make this sound cheesier than it needs to be.”

“I love cheesy.”
“Of course you do.”

Then, Mingyu suggested to play a few more carnival games, which Wonwoo mostly won. Due to the number of stuffed
animals he was rewarded with, both of the boys held two; one in each hand. For losing so much, Mingyu was dared to ride
one of the rented horses at the stables. Unfortunately, while riding the horse, it left a small trail behind it. In other words,
it pooped.
“I can’t believe that horse shat while I was still on it,” he whined, looking back at his own butt like it somehow managed
to get on him.

Crinkling his nose, Wonwoo said, “Shat?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that the past tense of shit?”

“I always thought it was shitted.”

Mingyu made an explosion gesture with his hands and blew a raspberry. “The mystery and confusion of language!
Fwoosh!”

Wonwoo sniffed his shirt and winced. “Yeah, you might want to change. That horse smell is really strong and gross.”
In a swift movement, the latter hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in a headlock, ruffling Wonwoo’s hair
with his calloused hands. “Who’s gross?”

“Mingyu, let me go!”

He released Wonwoo from the headlock eventually, but refused to move his arm from the older one’s shoulders as they
wandered around the carnival. With an arm still draped over Wonwoo, Mingyu said, “For someone older than me, you
sure don’t act like it.” He poked Wonwoo’s cheek and squeaked when the latter bit his finger. “Slightly vicious, too.”

“And you’re just really annoying.”

Mingyu hummed a laugh and slid Wonwoo closer to his chest, the stuffed animals being the only things getting in between
them. “Yah, that’s not something you should say to the guy who got you tickets and a corndog.”

“Mingyu, I hate corndogs.”

“But it’s the thought that counts!”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, yet he still smiled. He was happy.

There was a Dragon Mini-Coaster made for children, but Mingyu so badly wanted to ride it. “We got in through child
admission!” he argued. “This ride was made for us!” So they did ride it, and, thankfully, the corn dogs didn’t get to the
best of either of them when it was over with.

During Mingyu’s potty break, because his bladder was smaller than a penny, Wonwoo waited for him on a wooden
platform where the picnic tables were located at. His gazed focused on nothing as he looked at the booths and glow sticks
and rides, stuffing puffs of pink cotton candy in his mouth every now and then. The lights, from where he was, seemed to
have stretched onward for miles, and the sounds of pure joy from strangers never looked as though they’d stop. Autumn
meant chilled air, especially at later times of the day, so Wonwoo shivered underneath his black crewneck sweatshirt.
With his arms propped over the unstable railing of the platform, and Ellie pressed between his torso and the wood, Wonwoo
leaned over. Then leaned back. Then leaned forward again. Then leaned back. Finally, when he leant over one last time,
his nose poked someone else’s and their foreheads bopped. His breath hitched.

“You’ll fall if you keep doing that.”

Mingyu. Like this - with Wonwoo leveled higher than the other, their faces so close together - it was like a modern parody
of Romeo and Juliet, only it didn’t have the stupid romance of a boy and a girl. He was smirking, and if Wonwoo saw
correctly, Mingyu’s eyes were staring down at his lips. He smelled of clean laundry, spearmint, and Seungcheol’s old
cologne.

“Ellie would catch me,” Wonwoo answered. He plucked a piece of cotton candy from his bag and shoved it in Mingyu’s
mouth, pushing him away lightly. “I also wouldn’t mind the injuries.”
Then they parted again, allowing them to catch good glimpses of each other from where they stood. Standing about half a
foot taller than Mingyu, Wonwoo was able to look at him from a new perspective. He wasn’t used to seeing the other
anywhere above eye level. Oh, how he wished to grow a few centimeters taller so he could catch up to Mingyu’s height.

Uncalled for and out of the blue, Mingyu pointed out, “You’re blushing, Wonwoo. Your cheeks are pink.”

“They… aren’t pink; they’re coral.”

Smooth. Real smooth.

“Coral?” Mingyu quirked an eyebrow, watching Wonwoo send him a scrunched look. He laughed charmingly. “Alright.
So, are you coming down, or are we gonna stay like this for the rest of the night?”
“Stay like this?”

“Wonwoo.”
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo said, “I’m kidding.” He squeezed between the bars of the railing and hopped off. “Let’s go?”

And finally, as the sun met the horizon and the skies became an unusual pink, orange, and purple gradient, Wonwoo
pointed a finger at the wimpy Ferris wheel that stood over the lot, and asked to ride it. So they did.
The ride to the top was quiet and comforting. Mingyu’s long legs hardly fit the box they were in, while Wonwoo’s fitted
nicely. (Or almost at least. As a teenage boy barely reaching over 182 centimeters, it was hard to sit in a camped box with
his knees bent uncomfortably.) The stuffed animals took up most of the space, two squished on the sides of the cart and
one on each of their laps.

There wasn’t much on Wonwoo’s mind, but the skies brought in thoughts that didn’t matter very much. He thought of
what he’d eat for breakfast the next morning, wondered what Chan was doing while he was at the carnival, and counted
the number of carts on the ride. He didn’t even notice Mingyu staring at him.
“So,” Mingyu sighed, interrupting the silence. They were halfway to the top, and a sudden breeze tickled Wonwoo’s fair
skin. “Did you know that Jun-hyung’s been dating Minghao since, like, July?”

Wonwoo smiled, still staring at the peach colored clouds. “I heard.” He shook his head, laughing. “Honestly, Jun-hyung
is totally whipped. He bought five dozen roses for him, a different color for every twelve he got. It wasn’t even for any
sort of special occasion.” Mingyu nodded and hummed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they married under the title of being
high school lovers.”
Mingyu sighed, scratching the space between his eyebrows. “I still can’t believe it. I took Jun-hyung to one boxing
tournament and now look at him: Falling in love with the kid he met with a bloody gash on his cheekbone.”
“I guess that’s what love does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know” - Wonwoo squirmed a bit to adjust the way he sat - “falling for someone, regardless of how they appear to
be, visually. Minghao had cuts and bruises, but Jun-hyung saw something else.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Reading or writing?”

“Huh?”
“Reading or writing?” he asked again.

“Reading,” Wonwoo replied. “I can’t write.”

“Writing,” he said. “I can’t stand reading.”

“I know.”

Mingyu smiled. “Movies or books?”

“Books. I love movies, but I have a thing for paper and words.” Wonwoo looked at Mingyu, confused. “You already know
the answers to whatever you’re asking; why are you playing the question game?”
“Maybe you changed your mind since the last time we saw each other.” He shrugged. “So far, we’re still total opposites.
Cats or dogs?”

“Cats. You know I’m terrified of dogs, especially big ones”

“But you call me a gigantic puppy. Am I an exception?” Mingyu joked.

“That’s different.”

“Night or day?”
“The time in between,” Wonwoo answered quickly, like he’d already seen the question coming and prepared to reply.
“Whenever the sun goes down, the sky turns into absolute art. It’s beautiful. And the weather is never bad. It’s never hot,
never cold. It sometimes feels… warm.” And just like that, the leftover light from the sun became a speck of dust in the
September sky, and they’d reached the very top of the ride. He smiled, lips pursed. “I like it.”

Mingyu’s stare was lingering on the latter, and Wonwoo noticed. But his eyes refused to leave the setting sun. Wonwoo
waited to say goodbye to the sun before he could say hello to the moon.

“And what do you think about love?” Mingyu asked, mumbling so low that Wonwoo could hardly hear him.

Love, Wonwoo thought, was real. He grew up in a household where love meant everything and hatred was useless. His
parents, though almost divorced back when he was in fourth grade, knew how to settle their arguments and raise a happy
family. Love was powerful. But he never felt it romantically with someone else.
“It’s real,” Wonwoo replied. For the first time since stepping on the Ferris wheel, his eyes met Mingyu’s.

Mingyu didn’t know what to do. There was heat burning his neck, but chills were skimming down his back. Something
about the feeling just had to do with Wonwoo, with his darker yet softer eyes and ink-drenched locks that contrasted
perfectly against his skin. In this light, Wonwoo was stunning.

“This is odd to ask,” Mingyu said, his eyes never leaving Wonwoo, “but do you think anyone will ever – I don’t know –
fall in love with me?”

The question came out of nowhere, and maybe Mingyu wasn’t thinking straight. But after watching Junhui and Minghao’s
love grow by the second, and hearing Seungcheol’s stories of how amazing he felt after just a few dates, Mingyu couldn’t
help but think, Why not me. He’d met other people, kissed other people, dated other people, but that feeling Seungcheol
once described to him – that love he always felt – had never crossed his mind. He wanted to love and to be loved.

Wonwoo grinned, nodding softly. “Yeah,” he said, quiet and whisper-like, “it’s inevitable.”
That night, Mingyu repeated Wonwoo’s last word in his mind over and over again: Inevitable.

·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇·̇·̇

The sole of Wonwoo’s Converse completely ripped after tripping over the corner of the Ferris wheel cab. Unable to hold
his stuffed animals because of his struggle to walk, they picked up a roll of masking tape from one of the stands and stuck
them to Wonwoo’s back and Mingyu’s chest. They looked fucking ridiculous.

Having to hop on one foot while gripping to Mingyu’s arm, rather than walking as he normally would, was tiring. Wonwoo
stopped every twenty steps or so, hardly even making it out of the lot before the carnival could close.

“I think this is a sign that I should buy new shoes” - Wonwoo did a double hop to catch up with his best friend, who hadn’t
said a word since the Ferris wheel ride - “don’t you think, Ming-”
Mingyu slipped away from Wonwoo’s grip, making the older stumble aside. Luckily, he caught himself, but when he
peered up, Mingyu was crouching before him, not looking back to meet Wonwoo’s confused, yet also surprised, gaze.

“Get on.” When Wonwoo didn’t respond, he looked over his shoulder and patted his back. “Hey, I said get on.”
“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to carry you.”

Thump thump. “You’re going to what?”
“Carry you. Get on.”

Hesitantly, Wonwoo leaned down and applied some of his weight to Mingyu’s back, his arms hooking over the latter’s
broad shoulders. The feeling of being lifted from the ground caught the oldest off guard, and to maintain his balance, he
held the latter’s shoulders with a tighter grip. Mingyu laughed.
“Stop laughing,” Wonwoo snapped, slapping the side of Mingyu’s head.
Mingyu yelped in pain and said, “Stop slapping me, unless you want to walk again!” He scowled before continuing down
the road. “God, why do you have to hit so hard?”
“Why do you have to be so annoying?”

“Doesn’t give you the right to hit me!” Mingyu wished that he had chosen to bring a car so he wouldn’t have to walk with
his best friend on his back. “Next time, even if we live closeby, we’re not walking.”
Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s ears, but not in a way that’d hurt the younger. “Onward, trusty steed!”
“First a dog” - Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh - “and now a horse. You might as well nickname me after every farm
animal.”

But Wonwoo didn’t hear him mumble those words over the sound of his own voice hollering like a Spartan.
Five minutes later, they found themselves in front of a hilled sidewalk that made Mingyu groan. He was tired, because
even though Wonwoo was thin and fairly light, he was still too much for a mile walk back home. Going up an ascended
walkway just made him regret carrying the elder even more.
“You can put me down,” Wonwoo offered, understanding how exhausted Mingyu would’ve been by then.

Shaking his head, Mingyu inhaled deeply and said, “Nope” - Exhale - “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

Wonwoo didn’t get it. Mingyu was tired, irritated, and regretting almost everything that happened after the Ferris wheel
ride, yet he still pushed forward to take care of Wonwoo. Wonwoo would’ve been just fine walking with a ripped sole.

“Why’re you being so nice?”

“Because I’m your best friend.”

“I mean other than that.”

“Because I love you.”

 That caught Wonwoo completely off guard. He knew Mingyu didn’t mean it romantically, but something about those
words sounded so genuine and sincere that it was impossible to ignore the fluttery feeling in his heart and stomach. He
loved Mingyu, too. And before he could return the affectionate words, he paused for a moment. Wonwoo thought:

Today, I’ve been experiencing a hurricane of feelings that I’ve never felt before. There was this fluttery swirl in my stomach
whenever we played against each other during carnival games. My heart is beating so hard, it’s like it’s running on a
treadmill. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I’m only thinking of now and not tomorrow, nor yesterday; nothing, yet
everything. I’m so happy, and it’s because of one person: You. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a slight chance of me being in
love with you.

“Valentine’s day of 2011, I told you I’d carry you one day,” Mingyu grunted as he ascended the steep sidewalk, “that day
is today.”
Wonwoo grew a smile and stuck his bottom lip between his teeth to stop it from growing any more. He rested his chin on
Mingyu’s shoulder then closed his eyes, feeling bashful.
Yeah. I think I really am in love with you, Kim Mingyu.

15
April 6th, 2014

When Mingyu woke up, he didn’t feel any older. It was his seventeenth birthday, and at that age, he expected to feel
some sense of euphemism modified by teenage idiocy and some guy-mones (it’s a thing, according to Junhui, because
hormones were a myth). He convinced himself that he’d miraculously wake up with a larger penis, hard-rock abs,
some stubble on his cheeks and upper lip, and increased confidence. But if anything, that image was more of a myth
than the damned hormones. Instead, Mingyu felt so normal that he didn’t realize he was a year older until he checked
his phone, glancing over the ongoing number of birthday greetings from friends and classmates.
Won-whoa named the conversation “happy birthday ming-yuck”

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Won-whoa
HAPPY BIRTHDAY

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
thanks wonwoo ily

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Horse
happy birthday mingyu!
also, shut up june
jun*
fuck

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
that’s HYUNG to you fyi

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Won-whoa
 jun hyung’s never gonna say happy bday to mingyu

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
i got smth for u mingyu ;D

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Horse
please don’t

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
it’s the STUFF bro

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Won-whoa
and by “the stuff” do you mean porn magazines your neighbor hooked you up w/

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Horse
LMAO

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
IT WAS ONE TIME OMFTAYHKDJAGF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Won-whoa
it still happened tho [side-glance emoji]

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: July
it’s too early for this
happy bday mingyu
control your boyfriend

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Won-whoa
I’M NOT HIS BNOYFRINDSHAVD STOP IT
HORSE STOP HIM

To: happy birthday ming-yuck

From: Horse
did you just call me horse
um bYE [peace sign emoji]
 To: happy birthday ming-yuck
From: July
AHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA

Mingyu laughed while reading through the group conversation admined by him, Wonwoo, Junhui, and Seokmin.
Texting like this was a daily thing; the bickering, the teasing, the overall “makes ing-sure-one-guy-is-always-wrong-
until-the-other-betrays-you” goal of the chat - it was really annoying. But he loved it. He had no idea why.
After spending a good twenty-or-so minutes replying to everybody who texted him - because so many people decided
that sending 200 word paragraphs would be necessary - he got out of bed and shuffled his feet to the bathroom. He
did what he needed to do - take a shower, brush his teeth, floss and everything else - then he ran back to his bedroom
with a blue towel wrapped low on his waist, the shower steam stalking behind him. Thinking highly of his birthday
the night before, his outfit was already planned and folded atop his swivel chair. Seungcheol called it the gayest thing
he’d done in the sixteen (now seventeen) years he lived; Mingyu thought his idea was smart. Really, it was a little
bit of both.
Mingyu’s mom was already in the kitchen when he walked in, cooking something he expected to be for him. Ahead
of himself, he planted a small kiss on her temple as he passed by to grab a roll of kimbap. “Morning, mom-” He was
cut short when she snatched the food back from him. Mingyu looked offended, gutted and confused. “Is that not for
me?”
“Not for you,” she clarified, still setting the rolls of kimbap in a tupperware container. “You’re making your own
food today.”
“But it’s my birthday!” He pouted, in hopes of his face successfully breaking her. “I expected homemade breakfast
from the best mom in the world.”
She flinched at him, sneering, and he jolted back. “Seventeen and still wants his mom to do everything,” she
mumbled. “This is for my co-worker.”
“What makes your co-worker more important than me? What, did they make you kimbap the other day and now you
have to repay them?”
“Mingyu!”
“Okay!” He shot his hands up in immediate defense, drawing away from his frighteningly shorter mother. “Okay,
jeez… I’ll cook some ramen.”
Cooking ramen was always an alternative for Mingyu, surprisingly. He could cook, that was for sure, but he simply
didn’t have the motivation to actually try. Instead, he often resulted in packets of spicy ramen whenever his mom
had a morning shift or pulled instances like this. As fancy as he was, Mingyu used poached eggs and green onions
as his secret to better ramen. Seungkwan called his ramen “unusually gourmet”, in which he had completely taken
compliment on.
Mingyu’s mom left the house in an unexpected rush that morning, reminding him to take his vitamins by the time
she returned home. He nodded, waved goodbye, then started eating his shameful breakfast (that’s literally what it
was named: Shameful breakfast, or shame-fast).
While slurping strings of hot noodles in his mouth, Mingyu was able to hear Seungcheol on the phone from where
he was. His voice was serious, but not the uncomfortable kind of serious; in fact, he sounded neutral with a hint of a
business-like tone. Mingyu wondered who his brother would be talking to deadass in the morning (or maybe it wasn’t
that early; it just felt like it). When muffled stomps initiated from the stairs, his head quirked up to see Seungcheol
enter the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, brah,” Seungcheol greeted in a hurry, ruffling his brother’s hair as he passed by. Brah? “How old
are you again? Eighteen?”
Mingyu ran his fingers through his hair to fix it and replied, “Seventeen, actually.”
Seungcheol whistled. “You definitely don't look like it.”
“Are you saying I look old?”
“More or less; mas o menos.” He grabbed a cream bun from the kitchen island and tore the plastic open. As he swung
his backpack over his shoulder, he took a sloppy bite out of his food. “Hopefully I said that right? I don’t know, I got
a C in Spanish sophomore year. Hey, I have class in half an hour, so I gotta ditch the birthday stuff.” He hooked his
pinky through the hole of his keychain, removing it from the keyrack before opening the front door. “I’ll make it up
to you, brotha’!”
Mingyu rolled his eyes, hearing the door close and lock as he poked the yolk of his egg with his chopsticks. It was
somehow extremely more interesting to watch the yellow ooze to the ramen than hear Seungkwan (try to) speak
French. “‘Brah’ and ‘brotha’... must be a new trend,” since Seungcheol always followed whatever was “in”.
By the time his ramen was barely filling an inch of his bowl, his phone rung. He grabbed it, swiping across the screen
without looking to see who it was.
“This is Mingyu.”
“Haaaapppyy biiirrthhdaaayy to yooouu…”
Mingyu broke into a wide grin. “Wonwoo, stop-”
“Happy birthday, dear Mingyuuu… happy birthday to youuu!”
There was a one-person fiesta being thrown on the other side of the line, hoots and hollers coming from Wonwoo
only. Flattered, Mingyu bit his lip and leaned back, his smile still as wide. “Is that all?”
“What, no ‘thank you’? No ‘I love you, Wonwoo’?”
“Thank you and I love you.” Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”
“Are you in for a day at the treehouse? Celebrate your birthday with just the two of us.”
“What’re you planning?”
“That, my friend, is confidential information that I cannot share.”
Mingyu got up to clean his empty bowl. Approaching the sink, he turned it on and sandwiched his phone between
his ear and shoulder. “Should I be scared?”
He was rinsing the bowl when Wonwoo said, “No, not at all.”
It would take a lot of trust for Mingyu to accept the offer. Although quiet and reserved, Wonwoo was sometimes full
of mischief. You’d never know what to look forward to when it came to Wonwoo, because his surprises were either
too surprising, or his plans would always go exactly how he planned, no matter how hard you’d try to ruin them. It
was sort of terrifying, but at the same time impressive.
“Okay,” Mingyu sighed, scrubbing the bowl with a sponge and a squirt of green apple scented soap, “I’ll meet you
at the treehouse.”
“Meet me at the lake instead, and get there at around twelve.”
“It’s settled then. We’re spending the day together.”

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It was 11:59 AM when Mingyu arrived at the lake; the sky was clear, hella clear - a fluorescent type of blue dumped
over the horizon. The clouds were absent, minus the puff strolling through the city without a companion. As expected,
the sun was shining happily, like Seokmin-happy, but was kind enough to only cause occasional beads of sweat to
form at Mingyu’s temples. And the wind was calmer than most days he lived through that week, a slight breeze
grazing his cheeks.
The weather was too beautiful - too nice - to simply drive through, so Mingyu decided to walk to the treehouse alone.
It was nice; he discovered a new, family-owned café that he hadn’t noticed before, said ‘hello’ to a few elders who
he used to greet every morning as a kid, and passed various people - all sleeveless. Boys were dressed in regular
clothing, only without the jackets and sweaters, pit stains evident on some of their clothes. Girls wore shorts and
skirts, and their hair wasn’t blown aimlessly by the wind for once.
Wonwoo was waiting by long strands of cattails, an Adidas shoe box in his arms as he obliviously fixed the front
part of his hair. He was wearing a plain black shirt that contrasted with Mingyu’s white one, and he laughed curtly
to himself at that.
When the elder glanced up to look at the lonesome cloud in the sky, his eyes passed Mingyu. He did a double-take,
snapping his eyes back to his best friend then smiled brightly. Right away, he initiated in a little dance as he sang the
traditional happy birthday song.
“Dude, stop,” Mingyu snickered, holding Wonwoo by the shoulders to keep him still, “you’re embarrassing.”
Ignoring that, Wonwoo smiled even wider. Mingyu could’ve sworn he saw confetti bursting out of the latter’s ears;
but not in some gory, demented way, of course. “Happy birthday!”
Mingyu joked, “It’s my birthday?”
“Stop playing; you know you’re seventeen now.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I kind of wish I wasn’t. You know, eternal youth and all.”
Wonwoo said, “Seventeen’s still young.”
“But soon enough, I’ll be sixty years-old, spending my days drinking prune juice with other elders as old as I am.”
“How much you wanna bet I’ll be one of those prune-juice-drinking elders you’re talking about?”
Mingyu grinned. “Your dentures and best set of suspenders.”
“You little shit, I’ll need those.”
Then they laughed, and nothing sounded as genuine and heartfelt as that. Their laughs paired perfectly, like they were
made to laugh together.
“So” - Mingyu folded his arms over his chest habitually - “what do you have planned for me today?”
Wonwoo smirked, turning to walk past the cattails. Mingyu followed behind. “I have a lot planned, but I won’t be
telling you now; just watch it all happen and be happy.”
“You’re sort of terrifying.”
In response, Wonwoo turned for a moment to hold up a peace sign, a playful way to show that he accepted that title.
Mingyu smiled when Wonwoo turned his back to him again.
Swerving past the cattails, Mingyu stopped in his tracks as Wonwoo kept walking. Ahead of them was the cliché
type of setup: A checkered red and white picnic blanket laid over the dirt, a wooden basket of food right in the center,
and a cherry blossom scented candle next to a short easel. Wonwoo looked at Mingyu, laughing, and the latter could
only blink dumbly in return.
“Dude, c’mon,” Wonwoo sat in front of the easel, criss-cross applesauce.
“What is this?”
“I’m going to paint you” - Wonwoo began to prep his paint brushes and colors - “with analogous colors.” Mingyu
slowly and unsurely walked to the picnic setup, sitting next Wonwoo. “Not here!” The elder poked his finger in some
blue and swiped it across Mingyu’s cheek, making him flinch back. “Sit across from me so I can paint you.”
Mingyu rolled his eyes as he switched spots, not minding the paint as much as he should. “Okay, okay.”
But when his eyes set on Wonwoo again, he had that mischievous smile was was both cute and worrisome all at once.
Again, Mingyu didn’t know what to expect. While getting ready to ask what he had in mind, Wonwoo opened the
shoebox he was holding previously, revealing a bundle of daisies knotted together.
“You also have to wear this.”
Mingyu laughed. “You made me a flower crown?”
Frowning, Wonwoo said, “Hey, I worked hard on it; I wasted three hours making it and one hour picking them from
the ground.”
“Unnecessary, Jeon.”
“Completely necessary, Kim.”
Mingyu stretched his arm out to accept the crown, and then delicately placed it over his head. He tried coloring his
hair a darker shade of brown two weeks before, in which he successfully accomplished, so the white of the daisies
fitted nicely against the chocolate of his locks. He didn’t know how he looked, but from Wonwoo’s perspective, he
looked amazing.
“Perfect,” Wonwoo whispered, showing off a pursed smile.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Wonwoo,” Mingyu teased. He looked at the lit candle and pointed at it. “And what’s
with the candle?”
Wonwoo tensed, cheeks reddening. “It- I just thought it would be nice.”
Really, Wonwoo just figured it’d be romantic. His love for Mingyu had been one-sided for a while, so he figured that
this was as close as he could get to going on a date with him. Like this, Wonwoo could’ve fooled himself into thinking
they actually were dating. But they weren’t. They were friends - best friends. He had to respect that.
“You know what candles mean right?” Mingyu’s eyebrows danced as he teased Wonwoo, making the redness in the
latter’s cheeks intensify. “‘Baby, grind on me’-”
“Oh, my god; shut up.”
“Just start painting, Wonwoo.”
“Your immaturity is distracting me from getting stuff done.”
Eventually, Wonwoo was able to paint Mingyu. As his paintbrushes stroked the canvas, blue over purple and green
over blue, he listened to the younger go on about his plans for college. He was still unsure of his future, but there
were many things he had in mind. “I’ll join a frat and party hecka hard,” he joked. But since they were talking about
his future, Wonwoo took it seriously. He glared at Mingyu, and when the latter caught the message, he assured
Wonwoo that he’d never do that. Wonwoo believed it - halfly.
The multiple conversations they had made painting a slower process, but over an hour later, it was finished. Mingyu
was painted in various shades of three different colors, his side profile marked on the canvas. His jawline stood out
the most, along with the parting of his lips. Wonwoo was never good at drawing eyes, it was something he had to
practice doing, and painted them closed instead, his lashes grazing his skin. The highlights and contours of Mingyu’s
face were Wonwoo’s favorite parts of the overall painting.
“Done.”
Mingyu crawled over to Wonwoo to look at the painting. At first glance, he was already amazed at the detailing and
accuracy. The saturated colors stood out nicely in difference to the softer ones, exaggerating the noticeable parts of
his face. His shirt slid slightly to the side, revealing the line of his collarbone, and something about it made the
painting really hot. Even the dark blue swipe across his cheek made him more appealing in the painting.
“Shit,” he said breathlessly, “I look hot.”
“You always look like this,” the latter corrected, laughing.
Mingyu smiled as he took in every detail of the painting. “No, seriously; you’re fucking amazing at art. I barely even
knew you could paint like this, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo looked down at his hands and smiled, feeling bashful. “I’ve been practicing.”
“Can I take this home with me?”
“Of course.”
“Sweet.” Mingyu glanced down at Wonwoo’s hands, chuckling at the paint that dried on his fingers. It wasn’t funny,
but it was cute enough to make him laugh. “Looks like talent means getting messy, huh?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”
“So what’s next on the schedule? I’m kind of excited for whatever’s next now.”
The wide grin on Wonwoo’s face was enough to answer every other question Mingyu had.

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Water was sometimes a bit blinding whenever it reflected the sun. Mingyu noticed this when Wonwoo introduced
him to a small boat he got for half off. It was sold to him by the same person who offered the truck, and that fact was
enough to make Mingyu be scared shitless; but Wonwoo somehow convinced him that it was completely safe.
While riding the boat together, Wonwoo took multiple pictures of Mingyu with their polaroid camera, all of which
were taken from different angles. In most of them, he looked absolutely angelic, the crown of daisies acting as a halo
over his head. Wonwoo’s favorite was the one he captured of his multiple chins, and when they looked at how it
turned out, they laughed hard enough to make the boat tip slightly. “You look so ugly,” Wonwoo wheezed, pointing
at the layers of skin that doubled over each other. Mingyu flicked the back of his neck as payback, but laughed
anyway.
The boat ride became complicated halfway through, when Mingyu suddenly forgot how to properly row a boat. They
still talked regardless, with occasional remarks about Mingyu’s rowing skills - or lack thereof.
“Did Jun-hyung tell you about what happened between him and Minghao?” Mingyu asked, rowing the boat in circles.
He didn’t understand how romance novels made it sound so easy.
“No? What happened?” Wonwoo looked at the water. “By the way, we’ve been stuck in this spot for like fifteen
minutes.”
“You try then.” He handed the paddles over to Wonwoo, who sighed as they switched. “Anyway. They almost broke
up last week.”
“WHAT?”
Wonwoo’s outburst was so sudden, so obnoxiously loud, that his body reacted along with him. His arms slammed
down in surprise, the paddles flying out of the lake momentarily before splashing back in, water sprinkling to their
faces.
Mingyu laughed while wiping away the droplets of water from his temple. “Calm down, they figured things out.” He
sighed, rubbing his hands over his face then resting his chin in his palm. “Jun-hyung decided to surprise Minghao at
the academy, but walked in while he was hugging the new kid. He took it the wrong way and caused this whole scene
that, if it weren’t for Hansol and I, would’ve gotten him kicked out. Minghao yelled at him for being immature.”
“Was it that bad?”
“So bad. I’d never seen Minghao raise his voice at anyone like that, so it sort of threw everyone off-guard, even Jun-
hyung. Then Jun-hyung said something back, and Minghao looked so embarrassed, he said he hated him and told
him to leave.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “Hate? No fucking way. That explains why Jun-hyung was such an asshole a couple days
ago.”
“It’s true. They made up a few days later, though.”
“Relationships sound scary.”
“Hella scary.”
“Yeah.” Then it grew quiet. After a beat, he said, “Hey, do you think this would tip over if we tried balancing on it?”
“...Do you wanna try?”
“Mingyu, no.”
“But you asked.”
“I was just curious.”
“Do you think it would?”
“Yes.”
“Time to test your hypothesis.”
Mingyu got up with his arms spread out for balance, ignoring Wonwoo’s voice telling him to stop, and shook as he
tried to prevent himself from falling off the boat. As it teetered side to side, Wonwoo instinctively gripped to the
sides of the boat and shouted complete nonsense. After a deep dip to the side, he locked his eyes shut and held his
breath to prepare himself for the worst.
But there was no need, because they didn’t fall.
The youngest of the two smirked, smug and satisfied with himself. “Ha, told you we wouldn’t tip over.”
“I don’t remember you saying anything about that,” Wonwoo clarified, red-faced from the lack of oxygen he was
allowing himself to take in, because Mingyu was still standing and the boat was still rocking side to side, “Now can
you please sit back down so we won’t fall?”
Mingyu rolled his eyes and complied with the latter’s request. But as he crouched down, his foot shifted slightly. In
a split second, he tripped on his own foot, leant too far to the side, and fell out the boat. Wonwoo screamed,
“Goddammit, Mingyu!” as the younger sputtered in the mucky lake water, drenched from flower crown to toe.
“Gross,” Mingyu coughed, clearing his throat of the water he accidentally swallowed.
Wonwoo reached over the boat, worry evident in his eyes. “DUDE, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” For a moment, Mingyu
just stared at Wonwoo, his face twisted as the taste of dirty water lingered at the insides of his cheeks and amongst
his tongue. Then, unexpectedly, he burst into a fit of laughter. The elder splashed water to Mingyu’s face in irritation.
“Not funny, Mingyu!”
“Very funny,” Mingyu corrected, his laughter fading away as he wiped off the water Wonwoo splashed on him. With
the sun shining brightly, he looked up at the other with squinted eyes. “Maybe you could use a dip.”
“No way.” Wonwoo sat straight, turning away.
Rolling his eyes, Mingyu held his hand out and said, “Fine, but at least help a friend out.”
The latter glared at him. “I’m not going to offer you a hand, because in movies, that person always gets pulled into
the water.” He grabbed a paddle and extended it towards Mingyu, like he was a spider waiting to get kicked out of a
five-star hotel. “Hold the end of this.”
“Okay.” But as cruel as he was, Mingyu had that troublesome and conceited smirk he was commonly known for,
along with a subtle raise of one eyebrow. While grabbing the paddle, he hollered, “Join me!” then yanked it towards
him.
Wonwoo fell head first into the water, and something as simple as that made Mingyu laugh harder than he did all
day. By the time his head arose from the lake, he blindly flailed his arms around to attack Mingyu in a tsunami of
water. Mingyu used his arms to block off the constant splashing, a continuous line of, “Yah, yah, yah! Jeon
Wonwoo!” emerging from his lips. Wonwoo wouldn’t stop the thrashing and sloshing, and it didn’t seem like he
ever would as long as he was in the water, so Mingyu grabbed his wrists - struggling at first - then pulled him closer.
“I hate you for this! I actually liked these pants, Kim!” Wonwoo complained, his eyes still closed and nose crinkled
in a way that drove Mingyu crazy with swirls in his stomach.
Mingyu yelled, “Wonwoo, open your eyes; you’re completely fine, and so are your pants!” - or at least he hoped his
pants were fine. When Wonwoo’s eyes opened, an automatic glare of light shone within them, and it made Mingyu
smile. “It was kind of funny though, right?”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck - holy fuck. What is this- Why are we so close? Oh, God; my heart’s beating so fast, I think he
can feel it. - That was all Wonwoo could think of as Mingyu stared down at him, smiling and being ethereal and
giving him that look that made Wonwoo go insane. Barely a couple of inches were spared with their close proximity.
If the oldest were to glance down, he’d be able to discern the defined lines that made up Mingyu’s torso. Damn, why
did Mingyu have to wear a white shirt that day?
Wonwoo looked above Mingyu’s head then chuckled lightheartedly. The flower crown of daisies were still on the
latter’s head, sogged up and misplaced. He slowly slipped his wrists out of Mingyu’s grasp and reached up to adjust
it. Realizing what Wonwoo was doing, Mingyu’s smile faltered as his stomach and heart buzzed.
“You look weird with your crown like this,” Wonwoo teased, moving closer to reach the top of Mingyu’s head.
And once it was fixed, they were chest-to-chest, breaths enlacing with each others’. The blue paint from earlier was
bleeding off of Mingyu’s skin, and Wonwoo slowly swiped his thumb over it to wipe it away. It suddenly grew
warmer, but only to the point where it made the situation more comfortable to be in. Somehow, both of their gazes
moved from their eyes, to the bridge of their noses, to the grooves of their upper lips. Mingyu’s lips - they were
distracting, and whenever Wonwoo was distracted, his body would numb and all control would be lost.
Mingyu was dazed as he made out the groove of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow and the lining of his lips. They were pink
and reminded him of cotton candy. His hands rested the sides of Wonwoo’s face, the lining of his jawline hard against
his fingertips. He felt the other’s arms slowly move down and lean his hands on his forearms, and unconsciously, he
drew closer and closer and closer - until their lips were a move away from touching.
Heart beating erratically and breathing slowed down, Wonwoo took note of what was happening. It was happening;
after months of crushing on and loving Mingyu, it was going to happen. They were going to kiss. Wonwoo wished
he could take the polaroid and capture the mo-
Wait.
Polaroid-
Capture-
“Shit, the pictures!”
Wonwoo jerked back and swam to the boat, catching Mingyu off guard. Blinking vigorously, Mingyu’s heart pumped
faster than before as he realized what he just tried to do - what he almost did. He was about to kiss his best friend;
something best friends didn’t do. He was stunned.
Meanwhile, as Mingyu processed what had happened, Wonwoo had his arms over the side of the boat, eyes frantically
searching for the pictures they took and the polaroid camera. He didn’t want them to be ruined - his entire day would
be doomed if they were - but when he found everything spread messily underneath his side of the boat, he felt
relieved. He sighed, smiled, and rested against the wood to calm himself from the mini heart attack he had. The
memories weren’t harmed.
“We got lucky,” he breathed, loud enough for Mingyu to hear. The younger looked up to see Wonwoo, nervousness
and embarrassment turning his cheeks crimson, “the pictures are saved, and so is the camera.”
Mingyu cleared his throat then nodded, his smile soft yet forced. “Thank you, universe, am I right?”
His voice cracked at the end. Dammit.
Wonwoo looked at him and laughed, and it made Mingyu’s desire to kiss him even stronger. “It’s a birthday gift,”
Wonwoo said, “from the universe, to you.”
Oh, how badly Mingyu wanted to kiss Wonwoo.

·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇

It took them two hours before returning back to Mingyu’s house for a game of Super Smash Bros. At the beginning,
they remained in the lake, no matter how gross and smelly it was. Wonwoo snapped a couple of pictures of Mingyu
in the water, and one of himself pretending to bite a cattail. The latter stared at him fondly, happy that Wonwoo was
happy. Then they swam back to the picnic, pushing the boat together as they drew closer to land.
The rest of the time was spent eating grilled chicken wraps Wonwoo’s mom made, and blowing out the candle of a
Ninja Turtle cupcake. “Sorry; they didn’t have seventeen,” he apologized, sticking the ‘5’ candle in the orange
frosting. They split the cupcake in half.
The sogginess of their clothes became damp as they spent their time in the sun, but still felt uncomfortable to be in.
Mingyu suggested that they should go to his house and change, and Wonwoo agreed simply. Together, they packed
their things and walked to Wonwoo’s truck.
“Your radio sucks, Wonwoo,” said Mingyu, as he tried altering the radio station.
He shrugged, like he’d already heard that more than a thousand times upon purchasing the truck. “At least some
music comes out.”
By the time they had reached Mingyu’s house, Wonwoo carried the painting as Mingyu held a plastic bag of trash.
Telling from the time, he knew his mom would be home for her break by then, and maybe Seungcheol would be back
from class. So he rang the doorbell, glancing at Wonwoo before diverting his gaze back to the door.
The door opened, and Seungcheol stuck his head out, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, hyung,” Mingyu reminded, hearing Wonwoo snicker from behind.
“No”- Seungcheol opened the door an inch wider - “I mean, I thought you’d be out for a while longer.”
“Is something wrong?” Wonwoo uttered, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
Seungcheol said, “No- Just-” He sighed heavily, lowering his voice as he spoke again. “Listen: I want both of you to
leave. Go back to the treehouse or something; I’ll call you when you can come back.”
Mingyu’s grip on the plastic bag tightened as worry settled within him. “What’s going on? Where’s mom?”
“Just listen and leave; there’s someone over and I don’t want you to interrupt.”
Then a male voice resounded from inside, a voice Mingyu wasn’t familiar with. “Seungcheol? Is that Mingyu?” But
in spite of not knowing whom it was, and not being able to recognize anyone with that tone, it made him feel uneasy.
Seungcheol swore under his breath, his eyes closing as his forehead made a small thud against the painted doorframe.
“Yes! He’s” - Seungcheol looked up and gave Mingyu a worried glance - “right here…”
“Let him in! It’s been a while.”
With clenched fists, Seungcheol opened the door wider for Mingyu and Wonwoo to enter the house. Looking down
by the door, Mingyu noticed a pair of dress shoes that belonged to neither him nor his older brother. He walked in,
Wonwoo trailing closely behind, but was stopped for a moment when Seungcheol pulled him back. The look in his
eyes was nothing but serious.
“Control yourself when you see him,” he demanded.
“See who?”
A loud shuffle of feet attracted the boys’ attention, and the youngest of the three stood there in absolute disbelief.
There was a man, as tall as Wonwoo and as tan as Mingyu, standing by the living room couch. Crows Feet were
wrinkled at the corners of his eyes, occasional strands of gray hiding in his hair. He had ears like Seungcheol’s and
eyes like his.
It was his dad.
A decade later, and Mingyu was finally face to face with his dad, the person he was supposed to look up to as he
aged. He looked well-put, a striped button up untucked from his dark jeans, and his hair shined as the natural lighting
from outside reflected against the gel. And it was ridiculous. There his dad was, looking like a wealthy and stable
man, while his mom was the complete opposite; stressed as she tried making enough money for both of her sons and
taking care of their home.
“Mingyu, is that really you?” His dad smiled, folding his arms over his chest. Mingyu did that all the time. “Wow,
my youngest son has grown so much; it’s unbelievable.”
Wonwoo mumbled, “Son?” as he tried grasping what was happening.
“Look at you, taller than your father and your brother. Seungcheol, you never told me he was this tall! And your face
- so handsome and just like me! How’re your grades? Actually, what grade are you in now? Oh! - speaking of grade
levels, your mother tells me it’s your birthday.” He was rambling so much, Mingyu could barely say anything back.
He didn’t have any words for him, though, so he kept silent and continued to stare incredulously. “Happy birthday,
son.”
There’s so much he could say, but he was so overwhelmed that nothing came to mind. All he could respond with
was:
“So this is how long it takes for a coward to stop by and wish his son a happy birthday?”
That broke everything. His dad’s smile waned, and Seungcheol nudged his hip. Just then, his mom entered the room,
pausing when she saw her youngest son at the door.
Seungcheol warned, “Mingyu.”
However, anger was already piling up and all of his words drew back to him. He grinned insincerely, as if the presence
of his dad was a complete joke, and scoffed. “So this is what my dad looks like.” There was a dry laugh that passed
his lips. “What a joke. As my dad, I kind of expected you to remember the date of my birth, and it’s kind of sad how
mom had to tell you that. You sound so surprised to see me, to see how I look, because you haven’t bothered to
glance at this family for a mere second ever since you left-”
“Mingyu, that’s enough,” his mom said.
“Oh, by the way, you missed like ten years worth of birthdays, but it’s cool! Those were the best birthday presents
you could give me: Not being there for most of my life.” He grabbed Wonwoo’s hand and smiled at his dad before
heading out the door. “Just to let you know, this is the ugliest birthday gift so far. I never want to see you again.”
When the door slammed shut, Wonwoo winced. The grip Mingyu had on his wrist was tight and started to hurt.
“Gyu,” he said, trying to slow down their pace, “you need to calm down.”
“I’m fine,” he bit back, “let’s just go to your place instead.”
Wonwoo was flustered. He wanted Mingyu to listen for once and try to lessen the level of his anger, and most
importantly, he wanted to help. Helping Mingyu was the equivalence to helping a five year-old brat, however, and
impossible if someone didn’t at least try to pry out his feelings. “Gyu!” Wonwoo pulled Mingyu back, stopping him
from walking away. Their eyes focused on each other for a time; Mingyu’s with impatience and Wonwoo’s with
concern. The younger’s grip loosened gradually, and Wonwoo used the opportunity to enlace their fingers together.
“This is sudden, I know, but please just- calm down.”
 The other’s eyes softened. There was no use in arguing, because he knew he had to take a moment and recollect
himself. Nodding, he said, “Okay.”
And that’s all it took for them to occupy the rest of their time at Wonwoo’s house, showered and changed into fresh
sets of detergent-scented clothes, and watching Naruto in the living room with the rest of his cousins. When Mingyu
returned home at sundown, his dad was gone, and he didn't know when they would meet again. That thought made
his newfound guilt last.

16
April 16th, 2014
There was a bloody, child-like squeal springing off the walls when Wonwoo woke up Wednesday morning. His
family was up at a strangely early time, hustling through the house as the kids prepared for school and the adults tried
keeping things in order - that, they obviously failed at. Wonwoo was the last person to get out of bed, and the first
thing he did was check his phone for the time.
6:30 AM. Shit.
In a hurry, his body sprung up abruptly, bumping his hairline against the metal bars of his bunk bed. The impact was
followed by a dull thud, and he uttered a swear as he made a mental note that physically dragging himself out of bed
would be a better alternative to waking up like that. A few seconds passed, and once he recovered from the bump,
he stumbled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom.
Just as he reached the door, a manicured hand slammed against the doorframe, blocking his way in. He looked aside,
glaring when he saw Minsuh mirroring his expression.
“I’m going first,” they said simultaneously.
Wonwoo scoffed. “Uh, what makes you think you should use the bathroom first?”
“I’m a woman,” Minsuh tried to reason, making the younger roll his eyes, “and I have needs that men don’t
understand.”
“Like what? Tampons and boob pampering?”
Minsuh’s mouth hung open in offense, her eyebrows meeting at the middle. “We do not pamper our boobs!”
“Then let-” Wonwoo paused to take a deep breath and look directly at his cousin, his eyes hard on hers. “You take
like twelve hours just getting your makeup on; at least let me brush my teeth and rinse my face.”
Her tongue poked the inside of her cheek as she thought about it. Giving in, she detached her arm from the doorframe
and said, “Fine, you have five minutes. I’m barging in if you take any longer.”
“Thank you!” In one move, Wonwoo’s hand reached for the back of Minsuh’s head as he yanked her closer to plant
a quick, wet kiss on her forehead. While hiding away in the bathroom, Minsuh squealed in disgust on the other side
of the door, flailing her hands over the spot he kissed.
Wonwoo stayed true to their deal and finished a second before Minsuh’s timer could signal that it was her turn to use
the bathroom. Right before she could land a hand on the doorknob, he pulled the door open and raced to their bedroom
to change. Wonwoo rummaged through his drawers, grabbing a random pair of briefs and socks, then pulled off his
uniform from the hanger of his shared closet. It only took him two minutes to get dressed, not minding how he
ignored the step of buttoning his shirt.
As he dashed past the kitchen, grabbing a random handful of his baby cousin’s Nutty O’s on his way out, his mom
shouted, “Hey, dress properly, kid! You aren’t a stripper!”
“Sorry, mom! Bye, love you, don’t get too old while I’m gone!”
With that, he downed the bunch of baby snacks he had - which actually tasted better than his usual breakfast, honestly
- and started buttoning his shirt, a trail of Nutty O’s stalking behind him. Fast forward after he got in his car and
started driving, it wasn’t until his second red light when he realized that he forgot his backpack. Groaning, he dropped
his head to the steering wheel, allowing the long honk to emit from the vehicle.
When he called his mom, there wasn’t a need for any greeting after she answered, “Let me guess… you left your
backpack at home.”
Wonwoo smiled uneasily. “Heh. Sorry.”
“Wonwoo, I have two kids to take care of today.”
“I know” - The stoplight turned green and he put his phone on speaker, setting it on the center console - “and I’m
really sorry, but it’s school and I really need it.”
“This is what happens when you stay up all night talking to ‘Horse’ on the phone.”
Wonwoo tensed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “How do you know about that?”
How could she not know about their two hour-long conversation on the phone?
Despite the amount of people living in the house, it was always dead silent whenever the clock struck past midnight
(aside from uncle Jinwoo’s muffled snores that came from the basement). She was the last person to arrive home that
night, exhausted and worn out; but as she made her way down the hall, she heard voices coming from the girls’ room.
It was unusual, knowing that it was already half past one.
After two soft knocks, she cracked the door open and whispered, “Minsuh? Wonwoo? Are you awake?”
When there was no response she carefully opened the door wider, seeing her son sleeping on the bottom bunk with
his phone positioned next to him on the mattress. She sighed, remembering the countless times she’d told him not to
sleep with his phone. She silently walked in, careful not to wake anyone up, and reached down for Wonwoo’s phone;
however, she stopped midway when a voice emitted from it.
“Wonwoo? Did you fall asleep on me?” There was a tired laugh. “This is your second time falling asleep during our
phone calls. Next time, well me when you start to get sleepy so I won't feel like I’m talking to myself.”
“Well, since you’re sleeping, I guess this would be a perfect time to confess.” As he sucked in a deep breath, his
chest puffing as he prepared himself, Wonwoo’s mom tiptoed closer to the phone and leaned in. “I really like you,
but I’m kind of scared to make the first move. I like how your nose crinkles when you laugh or smell something weird,
and I really like watching you slap things with your sweater sleeves when you laugh. You’re also a really interesting
person, no matter how many times you deny it. You’re honestly really good at rapping, and I really like your deep
voice. It’s kind of nerve wracking to even think of saying these words, so there’s some part of me that hopes you’re
listening, because I don’t ever want to repeat myself. I feel so unmanly confessing like this, honestly.” There was a
long, stiff pause that held itself until Seokmin said, “‘kay bye.”
The call ended, and when she checked for the caller ID, it said: Recents - Horse, Tuesday 1:33 AM.
“You fell asleep while talking to this person.” Wonwoo felt her smile on the other end of the line, and it made him
cringe because fuck she was going to embarrass him. “He wasn’t Mingyu, was he? It didn’t sound like him.”
“No, it was my friend Seok- Wait. How do you know what he sounds like? Did you talk to him? Mom, don’t scare
my friends please.”
“I didn’t, I didn’t! He just said something while you were sleeping.”
Incredulously, Wonwoo said, “Okay, but just- just don’t talk to them; you can sometimes be embarrassing without
noticing.” The topic changed quickly. “But can you drop off my bag at the front office? Please? I’ll make it up to
you, I swear I will.”
That made her laugh lightly. “You’re my son; you should never feel like you have to owe me anything. I’ll drop it
off in about twenty minutes, all right? Your cousins are coming with me, though.”
Moments later, Wonwoo was parking at the back of the lot, pulling out his keys and racing to class afterwards. He
sprinted past students and advisors, spilling random apologies, as he grew closer to first period. Then the morning
bell rung, and he made it in class just in time.
Sitting in his seat, Wonwoo leant over his desk to catch his breath. Next to him was Junhui, who was sitting all too
comfortably for a person in a chair practically made for discomfort. Biting into his granola bar, he said, “Jeon
Wonwoo, a member of student council and Mr. Always-on-time, is actually late for once?”
All Wonwoo could respond with was a big middle finger in the air.
Class dragged itself a lot quicker than Wonwoo expected; the hustle of the students doing last minute preparations
for prom setup, and the constant entering and exiting of the room, made time act like it barely existed. His class had
the highest grades in their year, but consisted of the least amount of students, so after completing their work for AP
stats, their teacher announced that they were chosen to take charge of the remaining plans for prom.
Although prom was a month away, the school wanted everything to be done by Friday afternoon. The announcement
of prom’s theme and the launch of ticket sales happened some time in March before spring break, during a pep rally
in honor of the school’s annual “mock olympics”. (To no surprise, Mingyu took part in it, along with Junhui,
Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jihye, and a couple other students. Wonwoo, out of the rest of his friends, was the only one
who couldn’t partake in the event since student council ran the assembly themselves, and he was the main organizer
for it.) A skit was practiced to surprise the seniors: Wonwoo stood dead center in the gymnasium with a microphone,
acting as if he were going to ask another council member on a date. As it played through, ooh’s and ahh’s chorused
through the audience, and then the news broke out.
“Seniors and juniors, we know you’ve been asking about prom, so… will you go to prom with us!?” There was a howl
of screams and shouts. “With just a couple months left of school, prom is getting closer, and we’re here to prep you
for it! Student council invites you to the Heartway Museum on May seventeenth for the royal night of your lives!
Tickets go on sale right after spring break, and we hope to see you there!” And that was all it took for every junior
and senior in the gym to grin widely, some in tears and others squealing ecstatically. Meanwhile, the remainder of
the stu-co members tossed red and white roses to the cluster of students sitting on the bleachers, even to those who
were yet to become seniors.
Ever since then, prom planning had been hectic for student council, to say the least. Student council’s advisor, who
ironically happened to be the school nurse, thought the members of the board needed a break, so she came up with
the idea of handing the plans for prom over to the most trustworthy students on campus. One thing, though: Over
half of student council were in the top class; in other words, the idea was useless.
The class split into five groups: Groups one and two handled the DIY photo booth (The students in group one were
the ones who knew how to drive, and taking advantage of that fact, they were assigned to leave campus to purchase
supplies from the nearest arts and crafts store. Those in group two made the props and photo booth decorations in
class.) The third group ordered the leftover decor they needed, which mostly consisted of red and white roses,
balloons, banners, and streamers. The fourth group decided on what food truck would be catering the juniors and
seniors. The final group, which Wonwoo and Junhui were in, kept track of how much everything cost and what
money would be leftover.
“Wonwoo!” With a clipboard in one hand and Junhui looking over his shoulder, Wonwoo looked up. It was one of
his classmates - female, bobbed hair, oval face, co-leader of group three. “This doesn’t seem right.” She pointed at
the date on the sheet she had. “The date here says March, but it’s April. The money we have for prom? I don’t think
it’s updated.”
Wonwoo uttered a curse, making a mental note to scold whoever printed the sheets for the class. He shoved the
clipboard at Junhui’s torso and grabbed the paper in front of him. “I’ll make new copies right away. Just do whatever
you can until I get back.” He looked over at Junhui and bobbed his head to the door. “Let’s go find the updated
sheet.”
Junhui and Wonwoo roamed the hallways together as a duo group, in search of Ms. Pratama, a foreign language
teacher who knew of the school’s finances. The school banker called in sick that day, so with Ms. Pratama as their
last and only option, they went on a search for her. But the search turned into a hunt as they found her nowhere on
campus - not even in her own classroom of fifteen freshmen.
“Dude, where the hell is she?” Junhui snapped, becoming agitated at the lack of progress that was happening. Thirteen
minutes in and there was still no sign of Ms. Pratama. “She’s one of the most isolated teachers on campus; I don’t
see how we could just lose her.”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes as he applied some weight to one of the double doors. “We didn’t lose her, hyung.” He
walked out the D building and marched across the quad with Junhui in tail. “You can’t just lose something before
even knowing where it - or she - is.”
“I smell confusion.”
Junhui shrieked at the voice, making Wonwoo flinch and hit his head against one of the supports that held up the
platform on the second floor. Practically snarling, Wonwoo stepped on his partner’s shoe and threatened to dropkick
him the next time he did that. Then, as he turned around, he saw a face made of radiance and smiles - Seokmin.
“Oh hey, it’s you.”
He waved, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but compare that gesture to a secondary character of any anime. “Hey, guys.”
“Don’t sneak up on us like that!” Junhui snapped. “And you” - He punched Wonwoo’s arm, earning a wince from
the victim in return - “don’t step on my foot, asshole!”
“Well, technically I didn’t sneak up on you,” Seokmin corrected, “I was sort of just here and you weren’t paying
attention and-”
“Look, Seokmin,” Wonwo interrupted, “I’d hate to interrupt and I wish we could talk more, but we need to find Ms.
Pratama, so if you’ll excuse us-”
“She’s in the teacher’s lounge with that new coach for the sophomore PE class.” His face soured as he thought back
to when he last saw her, remembering the amount of cleavage she revealed in front of the coach and the dark lipstick
stuck to her teeth. “I think she’s trying to, like, get at him. With that much boob showing, I don’t see any other reason
for them to be meeting up during class.”
Junhui grimaced. “Ah, jeez.”
“Then what now?” Wonwoo threw his arms up, plopped them back down to his thighs, then sighed. “We need
everything done by Friday afternoon, but we can’t finish any of this without knowing how much money we’ve got.
Fuck!” He kicked the support and groaned loudly. “Screw teachers and their sexual desires, man!”
Seokmin laughed as he pulled Wonwoo away from the support, the latter still flailing to unleash his pent up
frustration. “Hey, stay still! I know someone who could help.”
Wonwoo flipped around, but with Seokmin still holding him tightly, they were practically nose-to-nose. The elder’s
arms bridged between their chests, and he ignored the exaggerated thump against this forearms as he exclaimed,
“Really?! Who?!”
Seokmin stumbled on his words when he tried speaking. “I-I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because you hang out with Mingyu so much that-”
“Mingyu! Of course!” Grinning, Wonwoo slapped the sides of Seokmin’s face and kept his hands there, squeezing
the other’s cheeks a little too hard. “Thank you so much!”
Seokmin hissed at the pain on his face, unattaching Wonwoo’s hands from his cheeks. “Okay, enough with the abuse;
I’m in too much pain already.” When Junhui began massaging his cheeks from behind, he shoved them away and
said, “You aren’t helping, hyung! God, you guys suck.”
“Buuuut you love us,” Wonwoo teased, before grabbing Junhui’s arm and running to Mingyu’s class. “Bye, Seokmin!
I’ll call you tonight!”
Watching his friends run off, Seokmin smiled. He genuinely enjoyed talking to Wonwoo over the phone, and despite
the occasional pauses that were filled by static hums, it was comfortable; Seokmin found solace in hearing Wonwoo’s
voice. He looked forward to that night’s call.
Meanwhile, Junhui was struggling to keep up with Wonwoo, constantly telling him to slow down. “Wonwoo, if I fall
and fuck up my face, you’re paying for it!”
“All you’d need is a few band aids! You’ll be fine.”
Then they stopped abruptly, making Junhui’s body run into Wonwoo’s back. Mingyu was walking down the hallway
alongside Jihye, both of them slurping boxes of strawberry milk. When Wonwoo let out a sound, like he’d just
miraculously seen two angels right before him, Mingyu and Jihye’s eyes flickered toward him.
“Here- You’re here! Good, that’s good! Okay, um” - Wonwoo sucked in a breath - “prom is getting set up and we
have the wrong information on the amount of money left in our budget, but Ms. Pratama’s, like, getting at the PE
coach - whatever that means - so I need your help, like, really bad.”
Mingyu and Jihye blinked.
“We’ll buy you guys boba if you help,” Junhui offered, “since Mingyu’s some student aide or something. He can get
in Pratama’s computer.”
Mingyu blinked again. “I can’t abuse my privileges as a student aide.” Jihye sucked the remaining ounces of milk
left in her container, eyes still on Wonwoo and Junhui, and the sound made them want to knock it out of her hands.
“Plus, I want honey toast.”
Immediately, Wonwoo replied, “Then we’ll get you honey toast! A much as you want.”
“And ice cream for Ji.”
“Deal.”
Jihye turned around, tossed her milk carton in the nearest garbage bin, and started heading towards the direction of
the front office. Mingyu followed behind, and the remaining two did the same. When they reached the cramped
cubicle of the school’s banker, it was dead quiet. Every sound, every footstep, could be heard, and it was almost
enough to drive the four students insane.
Mingyu sat on the cheap, forty-dollar computer chair and pulled himself closer to the desk. He looked at his friends,
and when they only stared back, he nodded at the computer screen.

Password: |

They got the message and turned around, waiting until Mingyu’s typing ended. Once the password was in and the
files were open, everyone else peered over Mingyu’s shoulders, watching as he clicked different icons and tabs.
“Is this the one?” Mingyu asked Wonwoo, a copied picture of the finance sheet showed on the screen.
Wonwoo nodded, “Looks like it, yeah.”
So, in just three clicks, Mingyu printed the sheet and handed it to Wonwoo. “There,” he sighed, looking up at the
other. “I made three copies of this, just in case.”
Wonwoo smiled as he grabbed the papers. “Thanks, Gyu.”
“Do I still get my honey toast?”
“And ice cream for Jihye.” Wonwoo added. “You’d do anything to empty out my wallet.”
They laughed, somehow ending up staring at each other for some time. Both of them were smiling, their hands on
either ends of the papers. Junhui and Jihye watched, the girl’s eyebrow raised in question and the other scrunching
his face in disgust. Wonwoo and Mingyu only remembered to snap out of their gazes when Junhui said:
“What the hell, are you guys eye-fucking?”
Right away, Wonwoo dropped his smile and cleared his throat. He took the papers and nudged them at Junhuit.
“Dude, shut up. Here, take the papers and give them to the other groups. I’ll catch up; I need to check on group one
and see if there were any problems.”
While they walked out, Jihye said, “We’ll meet you at your truck after school, Wonwoo!”
He raised a thumb up and replied, “Will do! We’ll see you guys later!”
And before Junhui and Wonwoo split up at the quad, the elder said, “So… what was that?”
“What was what?”
“That,” he responded vaguely. “You know, the weird staring contest you and Mingyu had.”
“It was nothing.”
Junhui squinted. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t believe in a lot of things, hyung.”
There was a beat.
“You’re shitting me. You like Mingyu, don’t you?”
Wonwoo didn’t say anything back, his shoulders shifting and expression turned awkward. Finally, once he felt that
the sound of their footsteps were starting to impale the tension, he murmured, “No.”
Junhui didn’t reply for a while. It wasn’t like was oblivious towards whatever went on between the two; the extra
glances during group hangouts, the excessive skinship, the subtle flirting that turned more apparent over time - there
wasn’t anything he couldn't notice. Some parts of him wished he knew more about it, while the other bits wanted
them to just confront each other sooner or later. But it wasn’t easy for Wonwoo and Mingyu; he knew that.
He was upset, because knowing that Seokmin had feelings for Wonwoo, he didn’t want to accept the fact that it was
only one-sided. Maybe he was biased, but Junhui thought Seokmin would be good for Wonwoo. Their likes and
dislikes matched like buttons on a pressed shirt, and it was always easy for them to hold up a long conversation
without a single gap of awkwardness. Compared to this, Mingyu and Wonwoo were just too different, yet he saw it
coming anyway.
“You should make the call and check on group one,” Junhui sighed. “I’ll probably be with Minghao after school, so
I won’t meet up with you later.”
As he turned the opposite direction, Wonwoo asked, “You aren’t mad at me, are you?” The latter shrugged. “I-I don’t
like Mingyu. Seriously. Don’t be mad.”
“Lying to yourself is the worst thing you could possible do, Wonwoo.” He walked again, waving his hand with
Wonwoo watching his back rather than his face. “Go make that call!”
Wonwoo was left in the quad after that, and something about that conversation didn’t feel right.

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Jihye was sitting in the back of Wonwoo’s truck when he entered the parking lot, and Mingyu was leaning against
the tailgate. The overall image of his friends loitering by his truck gave a rustic feel that was aesthetically appealing,
with Mingyu wearing a dog tag over a plain shirt - as always - and Jihye dressed in a faded flannel that had sleeves
long enough to cover her entire palm. Since they were out of uniform, he guessed that they changed after class like
he did, his uniform replaced with a white shirt and cardigan.
Hipster as fuck.
Jihye smiled and waved at Wonwoo once she spotted him, shouting, “Wonwoo!” He smiled back as he approached
the truck. “Hey, your truck looks hella grunge and all, but there’s so much dry dirt back here; I feel like my ass is
coated in it.”
“Sorry,” he apologized, his teeth gritting in an awkward, guilty smile, “it’s not like I’ll be keeping this truck for much
longer. I say goodbye to it a couple weeks after graduation.”
“That’s a shame,” Mingyu chimed in, “I think I’ll miss it.”
Wonwoo looked at him questioningly. “After always insulting it and calling it trash? Yeah, you’ll totally miss it.”
“Sometimes you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone.”
“Which is you all the time,” Jihye inquired, rolling her eyes and flicking a thick strand of auburn hair back. “Damn,
it’s really hot. When’re we going to get ice cream? I’m hungry.”
Wonwoo removed one strap from his shoulder and shifted his backpack to the front so he could unzip the big pocket.
“Wait” - He took out the polaroid and stepped back a few steps, positioning the camera to his face - “let me take a
picture; you guys look good.”
While Wonwoo was looking through the viewfinder, Mingyu and Jihye posed. Jihye had her elbow propped against
the side of the truck, her palm supporting the weight of her chin. She had a closed smile and eyelids that were fluttered
shut, and the sun made her skin look radiant. Adjacent to her was Mingyu. There was a grin on his face, and he
squinted to block away the sun. The flash went off, and after Wonwoo put the camera down to see the picture, he
walked over to his friends so they could view it together.
“This is so cute!” Jihye mused. Her arms reached over the tailgate to grab Wonwoo’s shoulders and rattle him
mercilessly. “Let me keep theeeem!”
“Ah, hey!” He winced away from her, pouting as he massaged a shoulder. “Stop shaking me! And no, you can’t. The
pictures are for our photo album.”
Jihye sulked. “Ugh, you guys suck. This makes me wish I was part of your duo squad so I could collect polaroids
like you guys do.”
“Why not buy your own?” Mingyu asked, making his way to the passenger seat of the truck. “You have a job, so
why not buy one?”
Wonwoo unlocked the doors, he and Mingyu opening them simultaneously. “Because she’s saving up for her trip to
Paris.”
Jihye nodded, feeling the car roar beneath her once the ignition was turned on. She peeked her head through the small
opening of the vehicle’s back window. “Mhm. I need the money for shopping and breakfast at authentic cafés with
cute French dudes serving me tea.”
“Your fantasies of French men being obligated to serve you have never made sense to me,” Mingyu said, buckling
his seatbelt when the truck was already pulling out of the parking lot. “Like, what’s wrong with regular guys from
here?”
“Is that even a question? French guys have cool accents!”
“We can do cool French accents,” Wonwoo joked.
He and Mingyu started mumbling oui oui’s aimlessly and saying “croissant” in the most stereotypical French accent
they could pull off. Jihye rolled her eyes at them, thinking, Boys will be boys.
The ride to their local coffee shop didn’t take any longer than ten minutes to arrive at. Wonwoo was the first to leave
the car, stopping at the tailgate to extend his hand and help Jihye down from the trunk. She smiled at him once her
feet met with the ground, murmuring something that sounded a lot like, “Looks like chivalry isn’t dead.”
Entering the coffee shop, Wonwoo felt the chill of the café’s AC mixing with the strong aroma of ground coffee
beans and baked goods. The urban theme sends comfort to Wonwoo and his friends; gloss glazed over the clean
wooden tables, seats with leather cushions were either vacant or occupied by customers, cups of iced coffee and lattes
accompanied strangers that were scrolling through their laptops, and the yellow string lights that crossed back and
forth across the ceiling casted a yellow glow on the nude colored walls blanketed in artwork by locals. The muted
lighting made the decorations cast shadows. There were bars built above everything was that attached to the walls
and touched the ground, and Wonwoo thought that if he were to jump, he could grab on and use them as monkey
bars.
“Welcome,” the baristas mused - two young women wearing black caps and brown aprons.
Jihye returned the greeting as she approached the counter. “Since you’re paying,” she said to Wonwoo, batting her
eyelashes, “you should order for us. Honey bread for Mingyu; ice cream and an iced green tea latte for me.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Mingyu commented. “I’ll take one of those.”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes, saying, “You guys are adding more? You know what, fine; I’ll buy it anyway.”
They thanked Wonwoo, and after ordering and paying, they sat near the mini stage, where a teenage boy with a mop
of curly hair was plucking the strings of his guitar to Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder. A mason jar labeled “TIPS
:) saving up for a new guitar!” was placed on a stool in front of him.
“Hey, isn’t that kid a freshman at our school?” Jihye whispered to the boys, eyeing the guitarist performing.
Mingyu looked over and nodded. “Oh yeah,” he responded. “Wow, he’s really good.”
“Would it be weird of me to say that it kind of makes me feel warm inside hearing him play?” Wonwoo murmured.
Mingyu grinned, looked at Wonwoo, then said, “Kind of, but that’d make me weird for agreeing.”
Jihye fawned over the guitarist, her chin in her hand. “This sounds so pretty and romantic. If a guy were to ask me
out with guitar skills like that, I’d never say no.”
“Pretty and romantic…” Mingyu gave the performer another glance as he thought of something, before facing
Wonwoo again. “Wonwoo-ah.”
“Hm?”
“If I were ever to take you on a date here, with this guy playing guitar, would you reject my offer?”
That made Wonwoo and Jihye turn their attention to him, both of their eyes wide with surprise. It was funny how
similar they looked, but the only difference was the color of their cheeks - Jihye’s powdered in peachy blush, and
Wonwoo’s colored by the blood rising in his skin. Mingyu sat there as if he’d just asked what 2+2 was.
“Y-yah,” Wonwoo stuttered, “where did that question come from?”
Mingyu shrugged. “I was just wondering…”
“Then stop wondering.”
“I can’t just stop wondering.”
“Try to.”
“Jeon.”
“Kim.”
“Oh, my God,” Jihye groaned, interrupting the two. “Enough with the flirting already. We get it, Wonwoo’s a hot
piece of ass, but can you at least make your affection less obvious? I can see hearts flying around your head.”
That’s when their drinks arrived, along with a cup of vanilla bean ice cream. Wonwoo and Jihye thanked the barista
for bringing them over, and when she left, Mingyu was smirking down at his drink as he stirred it. You aren’t wrong,
he thought.

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Jihye was picked up by her cousin not too long after she finished her ice cream and latte. It was Yuna, the same
cousin who Wonwoo was set up with on a blind date all those years ago. Dressed in a soft pink blouse, white blazer,
distressed skinny jeans that folded at the ankles, and high heels, Yuna looked almost unnoticeable. She approached
the table, leaning over to see Wonwoo’s side profile as she said, “Wonwoo?” He looked up and smiled politely,
unable to recognize who she was. “It’s me! Yuna!” Thus, this short encountered lead to shared social media and
swapped phone numbers.
After Jihye and Yuna left, Mingyu and Wonwoo were left at the table alone. A fourth of the honey bread was uneaten,
so Mingyu scooted the plate closer to the latter. “You want some?”
Wonwoo looked down at it, and he almost rejected, but the growl of his stomach made it hard to not accept the offer.
He grabbed Mingyu’s fork, then began to down the rest of the sweet, toasted bread.
“I said some, not all,” Mingyu laughed, slightly impressed by how fast Wonwoo ate the rest of it. “It’s fine, though.”
Wonwoo burped. “Sorry. For eating it all and burping.”
Mingyu burped, too. “You’re okay. Hakuna matata.”
Mutually, they ended up deciding on going to the treehouse to drop off the recent polaroids they’d taken. Turning to
a driveway made of dirt, Wonwoo parked at the side of it, the tires on the right side of the truck rolling over patches
of grass. Mingyu waited for the other to go up the treehouse and climb back down, admiring the wildflowers that
were blossoming.
“We might need another photo album,” Wonwoo sighed as he returned to the grass, jumping off the wooden planks
that Mingyu replaced a week before.
Mingyu got up, a yellow flower plucked from the ground and in his hand. “Why’s that?”
“Because we’re down to one more page. Again.”
“We have way too many photo albums.”
“Honestly.” Wonwoo’s eye flickered down to the flower Mingyu had. “Oh, that one’s nice.”
“Yeah.” The latter closed one eye and held the flower in front of Wonwoo’s face. “I think this would look nice on
you.”
Wonwoo’s nose crinkled. “Yellow? On me?”
“Mhm.”
“I disagree.”
Mingyu smiled, stepped closer, and tangled the flower in Wonwoo’s hair on the top of his head. Wonwoo’s nose
crinkled again, and it made Mingyu laugh. Cute.
“You look good,” Mingyu murmured, hands gripping Wonwoo’s cardigan.
“I wish I knew what I looked like.”
“What, do you not trust my opinion? I’m hurt.”
“Sorry.” His nose crinkled a third time.
And that was it; that’s all it took for Mingyu to finally decide that he really, really liked Wonwoo. He was smart,
responsible, and breathtakingly ethereal. He was funny without trying, and he was funny without being mean, and
he was funny without completely embarrassing himself. His eyes were warm and made falling in love feel like the
easiest task in the world. He was himself, and that was beautiful.
There was an urge fighting against him, to make him lean over and kiss Wonwoo. Mingyu was never good at resisting.
So he complied.
And lowered so that their lips met.
Wonwoo’s lips were soft and tasted of green apple chapstick. He smelled sweet, a mix of honey toast and strawberries
lingering on his clothes. Mingyu’s hands remained on the cardigan, fingers intertwining with the soft fabric, as his
stomach knotted and stirred. Their heights matched perfectly, because while Mingyu towered by just a few
centimeters, Wonwoo was short enough to stand on the tips of his toes to deepen the kiss.
But he didn’t.
Absolutely stunned, Wonwoo jerked back and stared at his best friend in disbelief.
“What was that?” Wonwoo asked incredulously, his voice sounding as if it were injected with a needle to numb away
the cluster of emotions piling in his throat. “Don’t do that.”
“What-”
“Stop.” When he tried stepping back, Mingyu grabbed his arms. “You can’t just catch me off guard and kiss me out
of nowhere.”
Mingyu took a step closer, and when Wonwoo moved back, he used his other hand to place it at the small of his back
and pull him closer. “So you don't want me to kiss you?”
“No” - Mingyu raised an eyebrow and the latter sighed - “I mean yes, but I’m not in favor of you doing it all of a
sudden.”
“And if I kissed you again?”
“I’d-” Wonwoo swallowed the rest of his words in one gulp. “I would be even more mad than I already am.”
“Really?”
“Definitely.”
So Mingyu craned his neck and went in for a second kiss, because he found Wonwoo outright cute whenever he was
flustered. It was relatively quick, and this time, Wonwoo didn’t pull away, but he didn’t kiss back either. His lips still
tasted the same as their first kiss, and Mingyu wondered what it would take to get rid of the sweet honey and green
apple chapstick lingering at his skin. Something about it was so addicting; he knew he’d never get tired of kissing
Wonwoo. When he pulled away, the latter’s cheeks were red, and it made Mingyu smile. How adorable, he thought.
Mingyu asked, “Are you mad?”
Wonwoo almost said yes - he almost considered the thought of tickling Mingyu to escape his hold and run away -
yet he didn’t. As his eyes caught sight of Mingyu’s lips, the moist pink glazing over them, he shook his head and ran
a thumb over the latter’s bottom lip. “I lied,” he said slightly above a whisper. “I’m not mad.”
“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a great kisser,” Mingyu remarked, and it made the corners of Wonwoo’s eyes crinkle
as his lips formed a smile.
“You’re pretty okay,” he murmured, “but not the worst.”
 Then Wonwoo kissed him the third time, his lips missing the other’s and landing at the tip of Mingyu’s nose instead.
It made them laugh, and when they tried again, it was a perfect fit. So, on their fourth kiss, Wonwoo kissed back, and
it lasted longer than a couple seconds. With the warm spring air caressing their skin and the simple sound of hidden
crickets chirping behind them, there was no other way they wished for this moment to happen.
They kissed a total of seven times that day: The fifth time in Wonwoo’s truck as Amy Winehouse played on the
radio; the sixth in front of Mingyu’s doorstep, just before Seungcheol could open the door and greet them; and the
seventh on Mingyu’s bed, where the only things accompanying them were warm silence and his collection of action
figures. Every touch of their lips, and every stolen breath, never failed to make Wonwoo hopeful - and every bit of
it felt amazing.
He cherished every second and every breath they shared.
It was a good thing he did, because moments like these weren’t going to happen again.

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“Hey,” Jisoo murmured from the other end of the couch, pressing the buttons of his old Gameboy, “didn’t you say
Wonwoo was going to call you tonight?”
Seokmin stared at his phone, which faced upward in front of him. His arms were folded over the coffee table, chin
rested atop the back of his hand. “Yeah,” he replied, bottom lip jutting out.
“Well, what happened to that? Did he forget?”
“Wonwoo rarely forgets to call,” he sighed, “but I guess he did forget.”
Jisoo closed his Gameboy, then poked Seokmin’s thigh with his toe to catch his attention. “Do you think he’s with
Mingyu?”
Seokmin stared at Jisoo for a moment before grabbing his phone, shoving it in his pocket, and getting up. “Most
likely,” he uttered dejectedly.
As he made his way out the gaming lounge of the mall, Jisoo said, “Hey, man, you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
The latter’s hand was gripping the door handle by then, but he didn’t pull. He looked at Jisoo with his usual smile to
assure that he was okay. “It’s fine,” he said. “Really. I can’t compete with someone who’s already got Wonwoo
wrapped around their finger.”
“No, don’t say that. I’m sure something came up and he-”
Jisoo was cut off, because Seokmin was already out the door, the latter’s heart falling head first into the pit of his
stomach and further down until a dead end was met.

17
It was over a week before prom when Wonwoo realized that the days of chilled weather were replaced with glimmers
of sun that painted the world vivid in its rays, bright and hot and bold. Clothes got thinner, and shorts became shorter.
Hot chocolate turned into blended ice mixed in tropical flavors, and dry skin became moist with salty sweat.
During this transition in weather and lifestyle, there was a sudden change in his friendship with Mingyu.
After kissing someone seven times in one day, you’d believe that everything would turn out just how you’d expect.
You would imagine more kisses, hugs that mean more than just “friends”, and intertwined hands. There would be
hope that the second person would ask you on a date, and if it goes well, they’d ask to go steady. Then, everything’s
love and sweetness after that.
But for Wonwoo and Mingyu, none of that happened.
The next time they saw each other, Wonwoo was standing near the school entrance with Junhui and Seokmin. They
were arguing over whether or not they would either arrive at prom on rented horses, or turn Wonwoo’s truck into
one. It went on for a while, but when Wonwoo saw of Mingyu entering the building alongside Seungkwan, he called
out his name and waved hello. Surprisingly, Mingyu only spared him a glance, then continued walking away.
“Yah, what’s his problem?” Junhui murmured, watching Mingyu distance further to building D.
Seokmin looked over at Wonwoo. “Did something happen between you guys?”
Wonwoo chewed on his bottom lip, confused. “Well, yeah… but, I mean, it wasn’t anything bad. We were fine before;
I don’t see why he’s ignoring me.”
“Maybe he’s in a hurry?” Seokmin tried suggesting.
Junhui responded, “Maybe, but it doesn’t take much to say hi while walking to class.”
The next time Mingyu ignored Wonwoo was later that week, when Chan asked Wonwoo to take him to 7-Eleven
because he had a coupon for two free Slurpees. Wonwoo was waiting for his cousin to finish filling his cup, absent
mindedly slurping his frozen drink as the whir of the machine filled the gas station’s echoey silence. He turned
around, his eyebrows raised while peering up, and then saw a head of brown hair positioned by the shelf of candy.
Right off the bat, he knew it was Mingyu.
“Yo, Mingyu!”
Mingyu looked up, his mouth slightly agape as he thought of what to do. Wonwoo was smiling at him - lips closed
and tinted red from the cherry flavored slurpee he was drinking - and waved a little. Seeing the other’s lips turned
red was the last thing Mingyu hoped to see, because they were the same lips he kissed not too long ago, and they
were the same lips that belonged to his best friend.
Wonwoo stopped waving when Mingyu placed an almond Hershey bar back in its rightful place and ran out the door.
His expression faltered, body burning with an odd sense of confusion and embarrassment mixed together. “Dino” -
He placed his slurpee on the metal counter, refusing to tear his eyes away from the door that was closing - “I’ll be
right back. The car’s unlocked, so wait for me there when you finish.” Before Chan could question him, Wonwoo
was already jogging out the gas station.
“Mingyu!” Wonwoo ran after him when he found Mingyu walking in the direction of the main road. “Yah, Kim
Mingyu!”
When Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s hand, the younger stopped but winced at the contact. “H-hey.”
“Are you ignoring me?”
“No.”
“You’re lying. Why have you been avoiding me?”
“It’s, uh- It’s nothing.” Mingyu cleared his throat, eyes still strayed away from Wonwoo. “I have no reason to be
avoiding you.”
Wonwoo laughed, dry and lacking of humor. “I think we both have an idea of why you’d be avoiding me.”
Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo’s hand to gently slip his away from the other’s grasp, then smiled warily. “Look, I haven’t
really been myself ever since-” He paused. “Ever since that, so I kind of need time to myself.”
“Why don’t we just talk about it?”
“That’s the thing, Wonwoo: We can’t talk about it.”
“What do you mean ‘we can’t talk about it’?”
“Because we would kiss again, and then what? Would we still be friends afterwards, or would date? Because dating
could potentially separate us for a long time, and I don’t want to risk anything I have with you.”
That made Wonwoo shut up. It explained a lot. Mingyu was afraid that anything beyond what they already had could
end badly, then tear them apart. He wanted everything to be as it was, even if it meant throwing away the many
opportunities he’d have.
“I’ll talk to you when I have things figured out,” Mingyu uttered, walking away.
Their encounter at 7-Eleven was their last one, and it wasn’t until a few days before prom when things were okay
again. Six days before the special day, however - when Seokmin finally grew some balls - he asked Wonwoo to be
his date for the dance.
Parked in front of a building a little too far from home, Wonwoo leaned back in his seat and sighed. He was lost in
thought as he drove, debating on whether or not he should text Mingyu or keep his distance a while longer. There
wasn't much time left until prom, and he still didn’t have anyone to go with. Of course he had his friends, but when
he realized that the majority of them had already found dates, he felt like the spare tire in the back of a car.
He grabbed his phone and called Seokmin.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m in front of the studio.”
“That’s great! I’m already inside; just tell the lady at the front desk that you’re here to see me and she’ll tell you
where to go.”
Wonwoo entered the building, did as Seokmin instructed him to do, and rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. When
the metal doors slid open, he was met with a vacant hallway that had two doors on both sides and one at the very
end. He stood in front of a door that had a silver plaque attached to it, “RECORDING ROOM” printed in bold letters.
He knocked, smiling when Seokmin opened the door.
“Hey, did you bring the lyrics?”
Wonwoo dug in his pocket and pulled out a Marvel themed flash drive, saying, “Yup. You know, singing in an actual
recording studio seems a little too much. Like, I know that we’ve been wanting to collaborate for a long time, but
this is a bit too professional for a first-timer.”
“My brother-in-law owns this place and he lets me use this room whenever I want since the equipment is eight years
out of date.”
“So you know what you’re doing?”
“Sort of.”
Seokmin went down to the basics: “Don’t touch any knobs other than these three. If there’s static, turn this one; if
it’s too loud, turn this one; if you can’t hear me, adjust the frequency on the last one until you can. The laptop has
the instrumentals that we worked on, and they’re all sorted by track. Press this silver button to speak to me while I’m
in the recording room. Also, there’s salt and vinegar kettle chips in that cabinet behind you.” Dazing halfway through
Seokmin’s explanation, Wonwoo blinked when the latter looked at him for clarification. In response, he nodded
meekly but forgot which knob did what.
Sooner or later, they were on opposite sides of the glass working on the few songs they wrote together. During
Seokmin’s vocal warm ups, Wonwoo started toying with the knobs and buttons to teach himself what he thought
would be useful. He got everything down when Seokmin had finished his vocal warm ups.
“First song?”
“This untitled one. It’s literally titled, Untitled.”
By the time they’d reached the end, they talked more than they got work done. Since Seokmin was a marvelous
singer with a wide vocal range, it was no surprise when he easily finished before nightfall. Finished with the first
part of their music, they made their way to the second floor where the café was, to eat cold sandwiches together.
Finally, after almost choking on a flabby strip of ham because of how hard Seokmin made Wonwoo laugh, they
returned to the recording room and switched places.
“Okay, rap god Wonwoo” - Wonwoo laughed in the mic as he adjusted his headphones - “are you ready?”
“Super.”
“First song: Untitled.”
An acoustic instrumental started to play, introducing Seokmin’s part. Wonwoo grinned upon hearing it, goosebumps
rising across his skin as the smoothness of Seokmin’s voice flowed easily through his ears. Distracted, Wonwoo
almost forgot to rap his line - almost.
Wonwoo was distracted through most of the songs they recorded, really. He couldn't get enough of Seokmin’s voice.
Going through all the songs, he felt himself smile and shiver and dance a little to how his friend sang.
After removing his headphones, Wonwoo fumbled as he put them back on when he heard Seokmin speak. “Sorry, I
didn’t hear you.”
“I said, I want to redo the second verse for Winter Morning.”
“Why? You sounded great?”
Seokmin shrugged. “I’m not satisfied. Switch?”
They traded spots again after that. As they crossed at the door Wonwoo poked Seokmin’s side, a small gesture of
encouragement. Seokmin smiled while flinching away, shoving Wonwoo out the door.
“Alright,” Wonwoo sighed, turning on the swivel chair, “let’s finish this so I can go home and bother Dino.”
“How is he?”
“He’s good. He’s growing up a little too fast, but he’s still the same.”
“And the bullying?”
Wonwoo smirked. “His classmates think I look terrifying, so no one even bothers.”
Laughing, Seokmin said, “If only they knew who you really are.”
Seokmin’s words were choppy, because his mic didn’t catch anything he said. Wonwoo scooted closer to the sound
system and tried remembering which knob was used to adjust the frequency.“Man, prom’s coming up soon.”
“Speaking of prom,” Seokmin brought up, “do you plan on going?”
Wonwoo shrugged, his fingers turning the knobs of the sound system. “Probably, but nothing’s set in stone.”
The former nodded and nibbled his bottom lip in thought, watching Wonwoo on the other side of the glass. His
eyebrows were drawn together, matching well with his brown irises and dark lashes. He was focused, everything
seeming more defined in the dim lighting, and the seriousness in his face was irresistibly hot. Seokmin’s stomach
churned.
“Go with me.”
Wonwoo paused in the midst of moving to his laptop for their next song, surprised by Seokmin’s words. Hesitantly,
he turned his head and looked at his friend, who was staring back with complete earnesty and a hint of anxiousness.
“To prom?”
 Nodding, Seokmin said, “Yeah. I mean, if you want. I’m not pushing anything if you don’t want to go, but it was just
an idea.” He held his breath. “I, uh- I think it would be fun. Well, that depends on what your definition of ‘fun’ is,
but I think you’d like it. I hope. I mean. Yeah.”
He continued to ramble, which didn't fail at all to bring a smile to Wonwoo’s face. “Okay,” he replied, sweetness
flowing out, “let’s go.”

May 17th, 2014

“So how do I look?”
Mingyu looked up from his phone, watching Wonwoo whirl around to face him. The moment he caught sight of his
best friend dressed in a well-fitted suit, eyes staring at him through his dark hair, Mingyu’s mouth went dry and his
phone fell from his hands. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathless.
Wonwoo looked bold across the shoulders, satin lapels creating a V shape that reached the mid part of his torso. A
trail of dark buttons pebbled down and disappeared once they reached the end of the V. The clean, all-black tuxedo
contrasted greatly with Wonwoo’s fair skin but it didn’t look bad. It was a sharp look that would’ve had anyone
drooling to be Wonwoo’s prom date.
Adjusting his tie to center it on his chest, Wonwoo smiled - and it was kind of magical to see. “I’m guessing I don’t
look so bad then?”
“You look-” Mingyu lost his words when Wonwoo looked at him again, and he forced out a breathy laugh. “You-
Wow, okay, you look amazing.”
“Enough to make you change your mind about prom?”
Mingyu rolled his eyes, leaning back on the couch. “I don’t like the idea of prom; you know that.”
“I still don’t understand why you don’t like prom.”
“I said the idea of it.”
“Still.” Wonwoo sauntered over to Mingyu, poking the latter’s bare foot with his polished dress shoes. “C’mon, tell
me why you’re such a party pooper when it comes to school dances.”
Grinning, Mingyu tilted his head back to look at Wonwoo and said, “That’s different.”
“What is?”
“How I’m the party pooper this time and you aren’t.” He got up, feeling the ends of his fleece pajama pants fall to
his ankles. Even with dress shoes Wonwoo was still shorter than Mingyu. “You were never the party type before.”
Mingyu shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna attend prom, to be honest.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Seokmin.”
Upon hearing his friend’s name, Mingyu’s grin waned and his heart sunk. That reminded him: Wonwoo was going
on a prom date with someone who wasn’t him, someone who had the potential to be Wonwoo’s boyfriend someday.
It sucked, but Mingyu had no say in it.
But he supposed it was whatever. He didn’t want to go to prom; he wanted to stay home in his pajamas with no one
else but Orange is the New Black to accompany him (it sounded a lot better the first time he planned his night). Now
that Wonwoo was wearing a suit and tie in front of him and looking hot as hell, there was a smudge of regret left in
him.
“Right. Seokmin.” Mingyu smiled again to put up a facade. “I think an at-home date would top a prom date, though.”
Wonwoo chuckled. “You can’t be serious. At home all night rather than actually going out? How does that work?”
Mingyu smirked, an eyebrow quirked higher up his forehead. “Well, I’d first treat my date to a homemade meal by
yours truly.” Wonwoo scoffed and turned his gaze away as he tried fighting off the urge to smile. “The lights would
be dim as we eat, and I’d have string lights decorating the floor like the fireflies at the treehouse. A playlist of acoustic
songs and soft indie music would be playing on the speakers, and when Frank Sinatra starts playing, I’ll do this-” He
yanked Wonwoo’s hand to pull him close, catching the other off guard, then started dancing. “Fly me to the moon,
let me play among the stars…”
It was a messy dance; their feet tangled, they moved in different directions, and there wasn’t any actual music to
dance to aside from Mingyu’s singing. Wonwoo was too distracted by his own laughter that he didn’t know when to
go right or left, twirl or inch closer.
“Let me see what spring is like on, a-Jupiter and Mars.”
“Yah,” Wonwoo took a deep breath to stop laughing, “What is this?”
Mingyu’s lips twitched as he guided them around the couch. “A representation of what a date with me would be
like.”
“So romantic. But enough with the dancing; I need to save my energy for prom.”
When Wonwoo spared one last chuckle and turned to move away from Mingyu, Mingyu grabbed his hand again and
embraced him tightly. Wonwoo made a strangled sound as Mingyu bursted laughing, holding the elder at the waist.
Then the laughing slowly stopped and Wonwoo stopped squirming, and they gave each other soft gazes full of
sincerity.
Ever since the kissing incident, Wonwoo and Mingyu hadn’t given each other direct looks. They’d either talk while
one’s looking away and the other isn’t, or give quick glances before diverting their gazes elsewhere. Wonwoo missed
actually looking at Mingyu, because he started to forget what shade of brown the latter’s eyes were. He missed seeing
the warmth in them.
Looking at Mingyu, Wonwoo could finally see it; they resembled the richness of smooth dark chocolate. Whether he
was standing in natural or artificial lighting, they’d still glimmer and shine and offer as much kindness they could
hold. That was the part Wonwoo missed most: the genuine sense of security his irises offered.
“Be safe while you’re there,” Mingyu uttered, “and have fun. Call me if you need to.”
Wonwoo nodded. “Okay.”
“And” - Mingyu hesitated - “don’t- Look, it doesn’t have to be awkward between us. We can still talk.”
Wonwoo nodded again, gently pulling away this time. “Okay. Y-yeah, okay then. I’m sorry if it was awkward in the
first place.”
Mingyu’s body slumped and he threw his arms up, knowing that he said the wrong thing at the wrong moment.
“Wonwoo, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Wonwoo, who was then standing at the other end of the rug, turned to look at Mingyu
with a humorless smile.
“Shit, not now Wonwoo. I hate arguing with you.”
Wonwoo’s voice was still low, like whatever happened was still one big secret. “You're not the only one. I don’t
know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been trying really fucking hard to make things go back to normal. And every single
time I try, you push me away and turn some other direction, and I never know what to do.” His eyes squeezed shut
for a moment as he bit his lip hard. “I get it, okay, we kissed and you want to forget about it. But refusing to even
look at me properly won’t help, Mingyu.”
“You think I’m not trying like you are? There's nothing else I can do if I feel like kissing you again every time our
eyes meet.”
Wonwoo froze, all thoughts replaced with new ones. “What?” But before any of them could say more, the doorbell
rang and Seokmin’s silhouette could be seen through the windowed door. Wonwoo murmured, “I’ll get it.”
After opening the door, Wonwoo swore he choked on his own spit because wow, Seokmin put himself together really
well. He wore a standard tuxedo that somehow made his shoulders appear wider. His hair was up, making it the first
time Wonwoo had ever actually seen his forehead in broad daylight. He was smiling and holding a bouquet of store-
bought flowers.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “Okay, I did not expect you to look like this. You look really good, Seokmin. I like
it.”
“Likewise. Love the fancy lapels.” He sheepishly handed Wonwoo the bouquet. “These flowers were kind of last
minute, sorry. Where’s Mingyu?”
“Uh” - Wonwoo glanced back to find Mingyu, catching him leaning against the wall and watching the other two talk
- “he’s somewhere back there. Let’s go?”
Seokmin stepped aside and gestured down the pathway. “After you.”
When his friends left for prom, Mingyu rolled his eyes and scoffed.

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Appearance wise, prom was a definite surprise. It was always dark and indoors in movies and books, maybe with a
few punch bowls on the buffet tables. This prom, however, tooks place in the back garden of the Heartway Museum.
The dance floor was wooden and polished, round tables with white tablecloth surrounding the outside of it. Metal
bars sticking up from the ground supported the line of round string lights. There was a professional range of food at
the buffet tables, and rather than a punch bowl, they got a punch fountain. Wonwoo felt as if he were at a wedding
rather than prom.
Two hours in and everyone was having fun; all but Wonwoo. Wonwoo should’ve been really happy to be at prom,
but he wasn’t. It was hard to enjoy his night when it was interrupted by a short text from Mingyu halfway through
the event.

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Are you ok?

He groaned as he leaned over the round table, his head pounding at the upbeat music that was playing. “What the
fuck.”
“Language.”
Wonwoo lifted his hs head up and saw Junhui eating a plate of potato chips next to him. He rolled his eyes and
groaned again. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with Minghao or something?”
“Shouldn’t you be dancing with Seokmin?”
Wonwoo scowled. “He’s in the bathroom, dipshit.”
“Again, language.” Junhui licked the barbecue seasoning off his fingers, wiping off his saliva on a napkin when he
finished. “So what’s the haps, home skillet? You look down.”
“Don’t say home skillet.”
“Home skillet.”
“I really hate you.”
Junhui grinned, nudging Wonwoo. “Really, why’re you being all sad-face right now?” He held his arms up in
exaggeration. “It’s prom, man! Have fun!”
He was right; maybe Wonwoo should’ve just turned off his phone and ignored Mingyu’s text for the rest of the night.
Rude by MAGIC! was playing, and from where he was, he was able to see some of his classmates rise from their
chairs and rush to the dance floor. Even Junhui, who was just with him a second ago, ditched him to grab Minghao
from the buffet table and hide away in the cluster of people. Yeah, maybe allowing himself to let loose and have fun
would be worthwhile, just for the night.
Awkwardly, Wonwoo tucked his phone back into the inside pocket of his suit and walked closer to the crowd. They
had their arms up, hips lazily swaying to the familiar beat of the song. As he snuck between people, he was nudged
and shoved continuously until someone pulled him aside.
“You should never walk through a crowd like that unless you have some sort of death wish.”
Wonwoo looked at the person and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry?”
“Hey, it’s your death wish; not mine.”
“You’re funny, Seokmin.”
He smirked. “That’d be nicer to hear without the obvious sarcasm.”
“Hey, guys!” Wonwoo and Seokmin heard Junhui’s voice and followed it. He was with Minghao in the heart of the
crowd, standing on his toes so that his friends could see the upper half of his face. “Over here!”
While starting his way through the crowd, Seokmin held Wonwoo’s hand (not because he wanted to, but because he
didn’t want to crinkle the fabric on Wonwoo’s suit; although it did give him an excuse to initiate the skin-to-skin
contact). Once they were in front of Junhui and Minghao, they started dancing ridiculously regardless of whoever
was watching or not. Song after song, they danced with as much joy and youth they could project. Near the end of
the dancing, Jihye and her date joined in.
“I like your dress, Ji!” Wonwoo shouted over Nico and Vinz pounding on the speakers.
She smiled, the champagne color of her knee-length dress becoming more apparent beneath the lights as she hollered
the lyrics of Am I Wrong. “Thanks! I got it from that dress store Minsuh works at!”
“Did she recognize you?”
Jihye grinned and nodded. “Yeah! She gave me a small discount too, which was nice!”
The high-pitched squeal of feedback from the stage’s microphone interrupted their conversation and the people
dancing overall. Everyone looked up at the stage with curiosity. A chaperone was handing the DJ a white microphone
once they'd caught everyone’s attention.
“Okay juniors and seniors, enough with the fun; let’s turn it down a notch.” The song transitioned to something with
a piano instrumental. “Here’s All of Me by John Legend.”
Suddenly, everything played in slow motion. Everything seemed so much brighter; the round lights string lights
created a luminous perimeter around the dance floor, the smiles of juniors and soon-to-be graduates appeared bigger,
and Wonwoo’s heart felt happier. He heard laughs and happy tears; confessions and reminders of the phrase, “I love
you.” The night wasn’t hot nor cold, and Wonwoo loved the feeling.
“You know” - Wonwoo looked to his left and saw Seokmin, who was looking ahead with a warm gaze - “when Jun-
hyung talked to me about prom, all he ever mentioned was the food and possibility of puking from excitement. But
I mostly looked forward to slow dancing in a suit, with another guy dressed in a better suit.”
He held out his hand and quirked an eyebrow as he finally looked at Wonwoo, and the latter couldn't help but smile.
“If this is your invitation to dance with you,” Wonwoo said, “then I’ll gladly accept your offer.”
The moment Wonwoo’s hand was placed atop Seokmin’s, he felt himself spin on the heels of his shoes until his back
collided with Seokmin’s chest. Wonwoo barked a loud, annoying laugh as Seokmin swayed them side-to-side, just
like that. Then he twirled out and was yanked back, the points of their shoes meeting each other.
“You’re fun to dance with,” Wonwo complimented, smiling with all teeth.
Seokmin fought back a smirk, his lips forced down while the corners tugged up. “I’ve had a lesson or two.”
All jokes and play aside, Wonwoo and Seokmin finally began to actually feel themselves in motion and take a
moment to be earnest with each other. Their eyes locked; Wonwoo’s etched with pure joy, and Seokmin’s reflecting
the few bits of his heart that cared for Wonwoo. Seokmin felt light, on air and caught in his feelings for the person
in front of him. Even if they weren’t real lovers, they were for just a night - and that’s what mattered to him.
Wonwoo quietly moved in Seokmin’s embrace, his head leaning down to rest on the other’s chest. Wonwoo had
always been taller than him, but this time it was almost as if Seokmin was the bigger one. His nose was tucked
between the dark locks of Wonwoo’s hair, the essence of tropical fruits almost overwhelming his sense of smell.
“Your heart feels like you just saw a ghost,” Wonwoo joked.
Seokmin swallowed hard, replying, “Just nervous.”
“Why?”
Seokmin’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. Either because you’re here with me like this, or the thought of everything
happening now will only last a night.”
Against his chest, he could feel Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “I make you nervous?”
“Just a little,” Seokmin confessed. “Nothing too bad, really.”
“How does it feel?”
Seokmin thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Like, I get speechless and forget about stuff. And I
can feel it in my gut.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s a good kind of nervous, I guess.”
They were quiet. “Seokmin… do you like me, by any chance?”
So much; I like you so much. I feel like this whenever I’m with you, and being so close and intimate right now is
making me go crazy. My throat’s dry, my heart is threatening to break my chest, and all I can think about is how
happy I feel right here with you.
“Yeah,” he replied instead, “I do.” Wonwoo nodded, but said nothing in return. His silence made Seokmin more
anxious than he already was. “I feel a bit hopeless saying this but, do you feel the same?”
“I don’t really know how to answer that.” Wonwoo lifted his head from Seokmin’s chest and said, “I can list so many
reasons why I should like you, because you’re overall a great person to be with - honest. It’s just- Mingyu and I…”
Seokmin felt his heart drain and his stomach flip. He didn’t suffer from heartbreak, but he felt as if everything that
happened between them just now had sunk straight into the dirt. It made sense, though. He couldn’t compare to a
person like Mingyu. He wasn’t “tall, tan and handsome”; he was average, average, average.
“You like him.”
“Things are complicated at the moment.”
“So you’re dating?”
“No. It’s just weird between us.”
Seokmin nodded. “So I guess I’m being rejected?”
“Seokmin-”
“No, I get it.” He smiled, a little dejected and a little apologetic. “I didn’t expect much anyway.”
Wonwoo stared at Seokmin with sad eyes. He looked down for a few seconds, biting his lip when he noticed the
sudden gap between them. Wonwoo reached over to hug Seokmin tightly, his chin rested atop his date’s shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” whispered Wonwoo.
But Seokmin only replied, "I understand," because saying everything was okay would be a lie, and he had never lied
to Wonwoo a single time since they'd met. He wasn't going to start then.

·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
How was prom?

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
it was fun. seokmin made it fun

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Should I go next year then??

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
nothing’s stopping you. try it

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Why should I?

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
you may end up realizing a few things while you’re there

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Did that happen with u?

To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
yeah.

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
How do u feel about it?
 To: Mingyu
From: Wonwoo
i’m not sure

18
June 11th, 2014
The very last time Wonwoo saw Mingyu, they were taking a group picture at Junhui’s graduation party. The kid had
his cheeks stuffed with sushi Minghao made, a dried soy sauce stain on the shoulder of his white V-neck and a dog
tag hanging at the center of his chest. Seokmin had unexpectedly jumped on his back, holding up a peace sign and
showing off that award-winning smile everyone loved so much. On the left of them were Junhui and Minghao; Junhui
had his tongue poked out to lick his boyfriend’s cheek, and the latter leaned into Mingyu’s shoulder to move away
from Junhui, smiling. Jihye, still clothed in her pale pink graduation dress, sat on a chair between Junhui and
Minghao. She was leaned forward with her face soured in disgust as she flinched away from Junhui. Then, on the
very end of it all - at the far right of the group - was Wonwoo, his heart feeling light as he listened to their laughs and
Jisoo chanting, “Take the picture! Take the picture!” to Hansol.
It was the last time he saw all of his friends before heading to college.
The day started early. Wonwoo’s family members were in a hurry to get ready for his graduation; the boys would
either have lazily tied ties or trousers that were on backwards, and the girls either forgot their bras or wore one earring
instead of two. As the first person to get ready, Wonwoo had the advantage of watching his family scurry in panic.
“Fifteen minutes!” Wonwoo announced.
Unprepared, his family skipped everything else they had to do and ran to the car. A mini can wasn’t enough to fit
everyone comfortably. With his six year-old cousin sitting on his lap and Chan’s shoulder blade jabbing his arm, it
made the ride to the hotel stressful. Everyone was talking; Wonwoo’s mother and aunt were planning lunch at a sushi
place to celebrate, Minsuh was shouting over her family members as she tried talking to Seungcheol on the phone,
and his younger siblings were arguing over who could take their pictures with him first.
Silence was nonexistent in a family like this. That was okay.
They arrived at the hotel with three minutes to spare. He waved at his family as he ran off, rushing to get his cap and
gown. Approaching the sign-in table, his pre-calc teacher gave him a short lecture about time management.
“Now go on and find your seat,” she sighed. “You’re graduating; not getting married.”
Wonwoo grinned, bending down to give her a hug before running to his reserved seat. He sat between Jihye and
someone from his psychology class. They greeted him with excited smiles, and Jihye squeezed his hand once he sat
down.
“How do you feel knowing you’re about to graduate?”
Wonwoo put on his cap and smiled. “It feels so weird. I can’t believe we’ll be off to college soon.”
“I know right?! It’s so exciting!”
“You’re really late, though.” Wonwoo and Jihye turned around, flinching back when their noses almost made contact
with Junhui’s face. “What, did you forget your speech?”
“I’m not valedictorian, so no speech for me. Also, have you ever heard of personal space?” Wonwoo used his finger
to push Junhui’s face away. “Work on it, man.”
Junhui bit Wonwoo’s shoulder before returning to his seat. Then, once the senior class song started playing and the
principal was up at the podium, the ceremony commenced. The school’s valedictorian was none other than Jihye,
who somehow managed to keep it a secret for a long time. Wonwoo, Junhui and Seokmin rose from their seats to
cheer for her, and she blushed from embarrassment when Junhui yelled, “I LOVE YOU, JI!” Her speech was inspiring
and caused some classmates to cry.
One by one, the students went up to retrieve their diplomas. When Wonwoo was called up, he shook hands with
some of the people from administration and was handed a roll of paper tied carefully with a strand of dark red string.
He glanced at the audience after going up on stage, and the first person he saw was Seokmin smiling widely as he
applauded.
It wasn’t long until the principal said congratulations and everyone’s caps were thrown in the air. Wonwoo
immediately hugged Jihye as their graduation song played again, and Junhui and Seokmin tackled them both in a
tight group hug. They made it; they finally made it.
“Fuck high school!” Junhui shrieked, making his friends laugh. “Now we’re free!”
Seokmin released his friends and hit Junhui’s arm. “Are you kidding? We still have college!”
“You guys have college.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped. “You aren’t going to college?” they asked in unison.
Junhui remained poker faced before he bursted laughing, pointing at Wonwoo. “Ha, you should see yourself! You’re
all like-” He mocked Wonwoo’s expression, then laughed again. “Guys, it’s a joke; look, there’s a camera right there!
Sike.”
Seokmin crossed his arms and twisted his face in disgust. “You’re so fucking stupid.”
“I am so glad we’re going to different schools now,” Jihye said, rolling her eyes.
Junhui grinned, big and annoying. He poked her and teased, “Don’t lie, Ji. You know you’ll miss us.”
“These two? Yes. You?” She shrugged. “I guess.” When Junhui smiled, his eyes wide, she added, “Sike.”
Wonwoo and Seokmin laughed as Junhui’s smile dropped. “Screw you guys. Where’s my boyfriend?”
Seokmin shrugged. “No idea. However” - He looked over Wonwoo’s shoulder - “I think I know where Wonwoo’s
is.”
Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. His friends looked at him with knowing smiles, all slowly walking
away from him together.
“Congratulations.”
He turned around, eyes wide when they caught sight of Mingyu standing behind him. He wore a navy blue blazer
over a white shirt, black pants covering his legs. In his hand were an arrangement of flowers; pinks, yellows and
whites.
“You came,” Wonwoo said in half belief. They hugged before Mingyu handed him the flowers. “I honestly didn't
think you’d show up.”
“You thought I’d miss my best friend’s graduation? Hell no.”
Wonwoo smiled down at the bouquet, admiring the colors. They didn’t smell exceptionally great or anything, but
they sure did catch the attention of others courtesy to the brightness of them. “Well thanks. I appreciate it.”
Out of habit, Mingyu reached over to fix Wonwoo’s hair. “How does it feel knowing that you're leaving high school?”
“A bit surreal,” Wonwoo admitted. “University is a scary thing to think of.”
Mingyu nodded, but didn’t reply. For weeks he thought of how life would be with Wonwoo in university, spending
his nights in bed staring at his ceiling and imagining how different things would be. Wonwoo was going to a
university out of state as a major in computer science, and he’d already finished packing the week before. He even
found a job already, a well-paid one at that. Everything was happening so fast Mingyu couldn’t keep up without
feeling out of breath.
Seeing Wonwoo in a black cap and gown was a red light warning to Mingyu that his time with his best friend was
nearing an end - not forever, but for a while. Change was nearing, and Mingyu wasn’t prepared. He just wanted a
while longer with Wonwoo, to love him until he can’t and to hold him in his arms for as long as he could. However,
fear had a way of stopping him.
Chan ran up to Wonwoo to give him a tight congratulatory hug, and Wonwoo chuckled as he tilted to his cousin’s
sudden weight. “Congrats, hyung!”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo said, hugging Chan back with his free arm. “Did you enjoy watching the ceremony?”
His cousin rolled his eyes, pouting. “It was really boring. You literally paid almost $200 just for this ceremony, and
it doesn’t seem worth it.”
“Yeah, well” - Wonwoo shook Chan’s hair - “you’ll be spending as much as me in a couple years when you graduate.”
The rest of Wonwoo’s family arrived after that, all of them sending him love and affection all at once. His mom
showered him in proud kisses on his cheeks as his dad patted him on the shoulder, smiling widely. Minsuh pinched
his cheeks before embracing him.
After Mingyu took a group picture for Wonwoo’s family, they separated until later that evening for Junhui’s end-of-
the-school-year party. His house was bustling with people, lights from every room turned on and hip hop music
coming from inside. It was a big house - six bedrooms, a pool and jacuzzi in the back, pricey landscape at the front,
and a balcony large enough to fit his entire bedroom. Rather than grass in the back of his house, it was replaced with
expensive waterproof flooring that felt rough when touched. To top it all off the house was built at the top of a hill,
giving him a view of the entire city.
Wonwoo couldn’t help Junhui prepare for the party because his family wanted to take him out to celebrate his
graduation, and his time with them ended up lasting an hour longer than planned. Since he was late, Wonwoo had to
park four houses away due to the lack of parking on the street. Big houses that cost more than his entire high school
allowance surrounded him, and it made him feel out of place.
He forced his weight on his car door to make sure it was shut completely, then began walking to Junhui’s house. The
front door was already open when he arrived, and when he stepped in, he was greeted by head pounding music and
an accidental spill of alcohol on his shirt. The person who spilled the drink hadn’t noticed, and despite how irritated
it made him, he continued to walk.
Wonwoo hated parties.

To: Jun
From: Wonwoo
i’m here. can i borrow a shirt?

To: Wonwoo
From: Jun
Im in tge bavkyrd [sun emoji] !! i hve a lot of shits

Dammit, he’s drunk, Wonwoo thought.

Wonwoo walked through the cluster of people and to the backyard. The moment he stepped foot out the sliding door,
he was attacked by an intoxicated Wen Junhui. He reeked of ketchup and alcohol, a lazy grin on his face.
“Woowoo!” he hiccupped, slinging an arm around his friend. “You made it!”
The latter placed his palm over Junhui’s face and shoved him away, grimacing at how he burped against his hand.
“What the fuck, how many drinks did you have?”
“Two and a half beers and a shot of v-”
“Jun!” Minghao showed up from behind in a ‘Kiss The Chef’ apron, his bangs tied up in a small bun. He held his
boyfriend by the shoulders to stop him from falling over. “Dammit, you’re wasted as hell. I told you not to drink!”
Junhui pouted, and to Wonwoo he looked like a really ugly baby doing that. “It was just a little, babe.”
“You can’t even drink one beer without losing self-control.” Minghao sighed before leading Junhui back in the house.
“No more drinking. Sorry, Wonwoo-hyung! Jun might need a moment.”
Wonwoo saluted them as they went inside, turning around afterwards. Finding most of his friends at the pool, he
decided to walk up to it and talk to them.
Seokmin had his arms raised to catch the volleyball he and Jisoo were playing with, but kept his guard down when
he saw Wonwoo walk towards hem. “Wonwoo!” An involuntary, strangled sound came out when the ball Jisoo threw
hit his forehead. “Watch it, hyung!”
Jisoo laughed, “It’s your fault man! You held your arms to catch it but put them back down. I just threw the ball.”
“You’re really late,” Seokmin said to Wonwoo after rolling his eyes at Jisoo.
“I was caught up in some family stuff,” Wonwoo shrugged. He smiled at Jisoo. “Hey, hyung. Are you visiting from
uni?”
Jisoo nodded, swimming closer to Wonwoo. “Yeah, I decided it’d be nice to visit for the week. I heard you’re leaving
early for college?”
Crinkling his nose, Wonwoo replied, “Yeah. I wanna adjust comfortably to the new city so I won’t feel weird when
the semester begins.”
“Wonwoo-hyung!” Hansol, who he hadn’t seen for some time, poked his head out of the pool and reached up to slap
Wonwoo’s leg. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”
“Well, here I am. What’re you doing at a senior grad party? Aren’t you a sophomore or junior?”
Hansol shrugged, lifting himself out of the pool. “Minghao invited me to help with preparations and clean up. What’s
that on your shirt?”
Wonwoo looked down and groaned, bothered by the way his shirt was clinging to his skin. “Someone spilled stuff
on me when I got here. I’ll be back; I need to change out of this.” Thus, he headed to Junhui’s room to steal a shirt.
The walk up to Junhui’s bedroom was long, only because it was hard to squeeze through people who danced with as
much physical contact as possible. People were playing beer pong on the pool table upstairs and there was a girl
reading a book on the couch. She didn’t seem to like parties either.
Junhui’s room was locked. Thankfully Wonwoo had been invited to Junhui’s house so often that he knew where his
friend hid the key - somewhere behind the TV; but when he unlocked the door, Wonwoo found Mingyu snoring on
the bed. Wonwoo didn’t think anyone could sleep through the music.
“You snore too loud,” Wonwoo murmured to himself.
He closed the door behind him and pulled off his shirt in one move. Walking to the walk-in closet, he grabbed the
nearest shirt he could find and changed into it.
“Wonwoo?”
He peeked out the closet and saw Mingyu rising from the mattress, the heel of his hand rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey,”
he greeted, tugging down the hem of Junhui’s shirt. “I just got here. Were you tired?”
Mingyu nodded and crossed his legs over the sheets. “It was a long day.”
Wonwoo walked to the bed and sat in front of Mingyu, noticing how his eyes contracted and shoulders slumped.
There was something oddly adorable about the pout on his lips, so Wonwoo smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Wonwoo replied, biting his lip. “Do you want to stay here for a while? It’s crazy out there.”
“Is that Jun’s shirt?”
Mingyu started poking the sleeve with a confused face. “Yeah” - The latter grabbed his finger - “and stop poking my
chest.”
He laughed, a lazy smile forming on his lips. “Sorry. Anyways, I’d love to stay here with you.”
Staying in Junhui’s bedroom for a while turned into the whole night. He had a TV in his room, which lead to them
watching a random reality TV show as they sat on the bed. It was boring, but it wasn’t like they paid much attention;
they talked for most of the time.
“Back when I dated this one guy and took him out for our first date, I was so nervous that I farted,” Wonwoo confessed
during one of their conversations. “Not only that, but I farted on him.”
Mingyu’s twisted in disgust as he adjusted his position. “You fart when you’re nervous?”
“Used to.”
“I didn’t know that. Did he leave you afterwards?”
He sighed. “Unfortunately.”
“He shouldn’t have!” Mingyu exclaimed, leaning off the headboard. “You marked your territory with that fart - he
was all yours.”
Laughing, Wonwoo nudged Mingyu’s knee with his foot. “You’re really stupid.”
“I’ve been hanging out with you a little too much to be like this,” Mingyu teased. He stared at Wonwoo for a time,
and he avoided Mingyu’s gaze by looking at the TV. Mingyu’s hand was then placed over his eyes, blocking away
the sight of a Pepsi commercial on the TV screen.
“Uh, what’re you doing?”
“Imagine this: A perfect life. What would that be like?”
Wonwoo shrugged. He’d never thought of that, really. The life he lived was always enough for him and there was
never any ideal lifestyle he wanted to be raised in. He had his friends, a job that paid him for dressing in costume, a
healthy body, and a supportive family. Wonwoo was already living a perfect life.
“My life is perfect the way it is,” he said. “I can’t think of any complaints.”
Mingyu moved his hand away as he laid his back on the mattress, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. The walls were
still vibrating and the rowdiness grew louder by the second. Yet somehow, it was still quiet.
“Same. Life’s been slightly less boring since I met you,” he whispered.
Mingyu’s words almost went unheard. The sounds of hoots and hollers coming from downstairs, and the violent bass
of the music, muffled what he said; but that didn’t mean Wonwoo couldn’t hear anything.
Wonwoo felt a familiar cramping in his chest. This time, a nervous churn in his abdomen accompanied it and he
sucked in a breath. “W-we should go downstairs,” he stuttered, swinging his feet over the bed. Wonwoo took a deep
breath and rubbed his chest. “I heard Minghao’s making burgers downstairs.”
“Alright.” Mingyu grunted as he got up. He held a hand out for Wonwoo. “You should bring your shirt.”
Grabbing his alcohol-smelling shirt, Wonwoo flipped it over his shoulder and let it hang there as they walked out the
room. Mingyu locked the door before they headed to the pool, where they expected everyone else to be.
Junhui was wearing a pair of Dora floaties when they got to there. He looked ridiculous, especially with the sunglasses
he was wearing, despite how the sun was already beginning to fall.
“Wonwoo! Mingyu!” Seokmin called out from the water.
Wonwoo smiled and waved, walking his way to the corner of the pool. Seokmin swam his way to Wonwoo, and
Junhui doggie-pedaled.
“Jun,” Wonwoo said, “you look more idiotic than usual.”
He scoffed. “Says the guy in my clothes”
I snarled, mumbling, “At least I’m not wearing floaties. And weren’t you drunk, like, thirty minutes ago?”
“Yup!” Junhui jumped up, then flopped down on his back. “And I still am!”
Seokmin rolled his eyes. “Minghao asked me to watch him in the pool, so I had to get back in before Jun-hyung
drowned himself.” He whacked Junhui with a pool toy when he saw him attempt at poking his belly button
underwater. “He’s a thousand times dumber like this.”
“I can tell,” Wonwoo snickered. “I’m getting a burger. Do you want anything?”
Seokmin shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thanks, though.”
They sent each other a few smiles before Wonwoo headed to the grill. Mingyu was already there, but instead of
waiting, he was helping Minghao assemble some of the burgers. Hansol loitered closeby, a double patty burger in his
hand.
Wonwoo talked to them, sharing a few laughs and inside jokes. Occasionally, Wonwoo would spare Mingyu and
extra glance without intending to - like it was natural for him to do so. Mingyu often did the same.
With his mouth stuffed, Hansol looked at them and asked, “So are you guys dating now?”
Wonwoo shifted awkwardly in his seat and Mingyu flipped a burger to the ground, caught off guard by Hansol’s
question. Minghao jabbed Mingyu’s gut with a plastic spoon before picking it from the floor.
“We’re not,” Wonwoo said, laughing in attempt to ease the awkwardness.
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
Hansol sat next to Wonwoo and swallowed his burger. “Whatever you say, hyung.” Then he peered over Wonwoo’s
shoulder to look at the view. In summer, the sun likes staying out for a few hours more, but it was just starting to set
as the clock neared eight PM. It peeked through the buildings of the city, almost like it was teasing them. Hansol
smiled. “Man, I’d kill for a view like this every night.”
But rather than following where Hansol’s eyes were directed, Wonwoo and Mingyu looked at each other. Their gazes
were soft yet hard with desperation, filled with love and want. As Mingyu took in Wonwoo’s face - the beauty and
sharpness of it - the sun’s light revealed a familiar smile, shy and kind. His eyes glistened as they reflected the glare
of the sun and the fire from the grill.
In that moment, Mingyu realized that he didn’t need the sky, as long as Wonwoo’s eyes held all the wonders of the
universe.

·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇

Think of lilac messily mixed with orange, blue and yellow; how their colors layer over each other comfortably,
combining at certain meeting points. Think of thick pillows of white roaming low, barely grazing the horizon. Think
of the city’s skyline; the faint, square lights coming from buildings as they act like early stars in the setting sun. Think
of the world’s breath patting your chest and travelling through your hair. Think of Wonwoo leaning over the railing
of Junhui’s balcony, listening to the distant sound of his classmates jumping in the pool and celebrating their final
year.
At a party with probably around fifty-or-so people, you’d expect noise to source from every inch of Junhui’s house.
But some parts were more reserved than others, making them perfect for spending a few minutes to yourself and
allowing the half-silence to fill you up. He stood there realizing that he’d never had any moments like this, where he
could just spend some time alone and actually think as much as he could.
You see, you never really have opportunities to explore your thoughts on your own if you grew up in a house like
Wonwoo’s. There was always some sound, whether it was the monstrous whir of the vacuum cleaner or the childish
bickering between his cousins. Most of the time that sound was loud and occupied too much space to allow any
thoughts. So being able to stand alone for a while and think and stare at the setting sun was nice; being able to
genuinely enjoy being alone was nice.
“Hey, Wonwoo-hyung!” Wonwoo peered down and saw Hansol waving at him by the pool, shirtless and damp. “You
should join us!”
Wonwoo smiled, shouting, “Maybe later! It’s nice up here!”
After Hansol shrugged and dived in, straight into the center hole of a doughnut-shaped floaty, Wonwoo turned and
sat on Junhui’s hammock. He rocked himself using the heels of his feet, a Capri-Sun packet emptied and crushed in
his hand. He used one hand to lace through the netting of it. The hammock creaked, but it didn’t bother him at all;
contrary, it only made him calmer. From where he was, he was able to hear Minghao cannonball into the pool, and
Seokmin shriek in defeat from losing ping-pong against someone else.
When Wonwoo heard the sound of feet pat against the metal staircase that spiraled from the backyard and up the
balcony, he leaned over to see who was walking up. Since it was dark, all he could really make out was the outline
of the other person’s silhouette. Then, once the artificial lighting shining from the sliding doors faintly highlighted
their face, Wonwoo realized it was Mingyu. As he got closer to the hammock, distancing away from the sliding
doors, the small details of his face disappeared into the darkness once again.
“Hey, there’s only a few more burgers left downstairs,” he said. He had half a bottle of beer in his hand. “I’ve been
saving one for you in case you wanted it, but I didn't know where you were.”
Wonwoo replied, “It’s fine. I think I’ve had enough burgers tonight.”
Awkwardly, Mingyu nodded and started walking back down the stairs. But halfway down, Wonwoo heard his
footsteps stop and start again, only to have him return to the balcony. The shuffling of his feet was distracting.
“So” - Mingyu sat next to Wonwoo on the hammock, forcing it to rock back - “why’re you up here alone? You’re at
a party, you know.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “I just needed a moment to myself.” He squinted at the skyline, sucked in a breath, and puffed
his cheeks as he let it back out. “I can't believe I finished high school.”
“I can’t either. Didn’t think you'd make it.” Wonwoo hit Mingyu’s chest, his nose crinkling when he did. The latter
laughed and hit him back with less force. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. We both know that you were more capable of
graduating than I’d ever be.”
Then it was quiet again, the surrounding sounds muffled and hard to listen to. Mingyu leaned back, facing up at the
sky and smiling. Wonwoo looked at him, his heart overwhelmed by the way Mingyu’s eyes shone in the dark, and
he suddenly had so much to say. I love you and I’m probably going to miss you the most were reaching the tip of his
tongue, but he swallowed them whole; not because he didn’t mean it - because he meant all of it - but because he had
to be careful. Their friendship was already as fragile as it was, and Wonwoo was terrified to land a hand on it.
“I’m leaving a few months early,” Wonwoo murmured.
Mingyu’s eyes saddened but reflected something that relieved Wonwoo from his apprehension; it was understanding
and sincerity. The younger’s lips tightened, curled slightly at the ends, as he said, “I know.”
Wonwoo turned to face forward as he rubbed his feet against the platform. The expensive flooring was rough against
his skin but not uncomfortable. Then he laid on the hammock, his shoulder pressed against Mingyu’s. They
exchanged warmth, which only made them more prone to sweating in that damned summer air.
Remembering the bottle of beer Mingyu was holding, Wonwoo asked, “You drink?”
“This is only my third time,” the younger replied. “Alcohol tastes weird.”
“Then why do you have a beer with you?”
“No idea.”
They were quiet again. Wonwoo watched as Mingyu took a swing, minding how he could faintly see the outline of
alcohol slosh inside the bottle. Bringing the bottle back down, Mingyu made a ‘bleh’ sound.
“Doesn’t sound good,” Wonwoo said.
Mingyu shook his head and leaned back again. “It isn’t.”
Wonwoo stared a moment longer before deciding to face up again. They gazed at the sky, and Wonwoo tried counting
the stars. He lost count six times.
“When will society just admit that alcohol is the worst tasting substance ever made?” Wonwoo asked rhetorically.
He felt Mingyu’s shoulder shrug against his. “Probably never.” He turned his head to look at Wonwoo, holding out
the bottle directly above the latter’s face. “Want some?”
Wonwoo blinked at the bottle. “I don’t like beer.”
“Be daring,” Mingyu said in an séance-y voice, swirling the bottle around in circular motions, “or else the ghost of
alcohol will haunt you forever. Woo…”
“You’re an idiot. I don’t even think there’s a ghost of alcohol.”
“It’s basically just the nagging voice in your head making you regret it.”
Wonwoo glared at the bottle, then at the dork beside him, then at the bottle again. His hand reached up to snatch it
away and he sat up. “Whatever,” he murmured before taking a large gulp. The yeasty, bitter taste made him grimace.
“It tastes just as gross as I remember.”
“Yeah but” – Mingyu sat up, taking the bottle back. He stared at the buildings, the tall ones that dared to touch extra
levels of the horizon. His lips smirked slyly against the rim of the bottle, and Wonwoo looked at him. – “I think this
beer tastes slightly less gross with you.”
Wonwoo bit his lip as he felt himself smile, tilting to the side to lay his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Greasy.”
“No, that’s Jun-hyung.”
For a while they sat just like that, until it was completely dark and everything within an arm's reach went black.
Automatically, the balcony lights turned on but everything still appeared ill-lit. Mingyu set his bottle aside and
reached for his phone in his front pocket, the screen almost blinding in such darkness. He untangled a pair of earbuds,
plugged them in, and played a song.
While putting one earbud in his right ear, Mingyu got up and gestured his hand for Wonwoo to take. Wonwoo stared
at his hand for a few beats, seeing how the yellowness of the lights made Mingyu’s skin look like mustard and the
waterbeds of his hands turn brown. It was wrong; so much of that was wrong. Taking Mingyu’s hand - just touching
Mingyu’s hand - was wrong. But his eyes moved up, and Mingyu had a soft smile and warm eyes that assured that
they were okay.
They were allowed to love each other for a short while.
Wonwoo put his hand in Mingyu’s and got up, their hands still intertwined once he was on his feet. Mingyu handed
the second earbud to Wonwoo and waited until he had it on.

So why don't we just play pretend

Like we're not scared of what is coming next
 Or scared of having nothing left

“Why this song?”

Mingyu put his phone back in his pocket and said, “It’s a nice song.”
“But it’s sad. Adele is sad.”
“But” - Mingyu used his other hand to sneak his fingers through the spaces between Wonwoo’s, taking a step closer
- “it’s a good song for us. Stop complaining, kid.”
“Hyung.”
“I’m still not calling you that.”
They laughed as they began to sway and shuffle their feet. They stayed close so that the earbuds wouldn’t fall out,
their chests barely grazing. As they danced, Wonwoo felt anxious about the dance itself. Unless dancing at prom
counted, he had no actual experience in dancing. He didn’t even know the basics. What if he stepped on Mingyu’s
foot? Or lead them over the railing and into the pool?
Mingyu noticed Wonwoo’s uneasiness and squeezed his hand. “It’s okay; you’re doing fine. Stop worrying. It’s just
you and I for now.”

All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I’m more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do

Dancing with Mingyu, being with Mingyu, and feeling loved by Mingyu was too much for Wonwoo to take in.
Wonwoo was going to college, away from Mingyu and all the other people he loved, and living in that moment gave
him another reason to stay. And he wanted to. But his career and education mattered, and getting accepted to his
dream university promised him a spot in the future.
So Wonwoo began to cry. He cried with his lips pursed into a frown and tears streaming down his cheeks, a heavy
feeling in his chest. Embarrassed if Mingyu were to see him, Wonwoo’s head fell forward and landed on the latter’s
chest - right over his heart. Then they stopped dancing altogether.
As he untangled his hands from Mingyu’s to wrap his arms around the younger’s torso, he cried harder into his chest.
Mingyu swallowed the lump in his throat, thinking the tears blurring his vision was from the alcohol, and held
Wonwoo tightly. No words were shared; no words other than Mingyu uttering, “Good luck in college,” in Wonwoo’s
hair.

It matters how this ends

Cause what if I never love again?

19
August 29th, 2014
The closest Mingyu had ever gotten to eating a first-class dinner was when his mom took his family out to eat at an
all-you-can eat buffet uptown - and that was seven years ago. He didn’t understand the mechanics of how to
properly cut a slab of steak, and he definitely couldn't tell the difference between the three forks placed in front of
him; they all looked the exact same. Dressing up correctly was also hard, because all he owned were converse,
white shirts and jeans. He didn’t enjoy the feeling of his collared shirt strangling him beneath his navy blue
sweater, and the shoes he wore were just as slippery on the inside as they were on the outside. The food was weird,
too. He was so used to eating ordinary meals that he forgot that caviar was an actual thing, and it tasted like salty
shit. And what the fuck was a crab cake?
Attending a dinner with your father and his posh friends from the country club should’ve came with this warning,
that everyone would be drinking glasses of wine or sparkling soda with their meals instead of cans of Coca Cola or
bottled water. It seemed almost bizzare watching strangers, all men, dressed almost the same as they gathered at
one large table of expensive food. Thinking about it, Mingyu shouldn’t have accepted Seungcheol’s offer to visit
their father for the weekend. It was a mistake. He didn’t fit in at all.
Before Seungcheol could help him, Mingyu stood up and murmured, “Excuse me,” to the rest of the table. After
placing his napkin next to his plate - made of wine red linen and embroidered with Seungcheol’s last name - he
walked out the dining room. Brushing off the odd looks from everyone, he entered the bathroom and locked the
door, pressing his back against it once he did. He looked up and fliched when he saw his reflection in the mirror
built parallel to the door.
Mingyu looked weird; the gel in his hair and layers of clothing he wore made him look stiff. He looked better, that
was for sure, but he didn’t feel like himself. The real Mingyu could care less about the way he did his hair, and the
real Mingyu would’ve torn off his clothes to change into a standard tee. The Mingyu he was looking at, he looked
like some stuck up rich kid who played tennis on the weekends. He didn't even like tennis.
When there was a knock at the door, Mingyu took a step forward and turned on the sink. He created a bowl with his
hands and rinsed his face quickly. Because he didn’t even know if he was allowed to use the rolled up towels -
because they were too neat and pretty to be used - he used his sweater sleeve to pat himself dry.
“Mingyu-ssi” - It was an unfamiliar voice, average and sounded like it came from a someone with a wallet full of
money - “are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, propping himself over the marble countertop with his head dipped down, “I’m fine.”
“It’s Donghyun, the son of your father’s golf mate.”
“They’re all his golf mates.”
The person laughed, and it sounded heavy. It was the opposite of what Wonwoo’s laugh would’ve sounded like.
“You get my point. Are you sure you’re okay? Your dinner will get cold if you-”
Donghyun was cut off when Mingyu opened the bathroom door. They were then facing each other, and Mingyu
was surprised by their difference in height; while Mingyu stood at around six feet tall, Donghyun was
approximately four inches shorter. Donghyun looked just as stiff as Mingyu would expect, but he made it seem as
if he were comfortable in what he wore. His hair was brown - a little darker than Mingyu’s shade - and his lips
were thin. He had almond shaped eyes and plucked eyebrows.
People like Donghyun were poisonous to people like Mingyu and Wonwoo and Seokmin and Junhui. To
Donghyun’s kind, “ordinary life” meant riding golf carts in the parking lot and being served lobster thrice a week.
Their definition of “ordinary” was Mingyu’s definition of tense, uptight and snobby all rolled into one.
“You’re in my way,” Mingyu deadpanned.
Donghyun blinked, surprised by Mingyu’s tone. He stuttered as he stepped aside. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized, “I
was just concerned. You're new here afterall.”
“I’d do just fine without your help.”
“You barely knew that you had to put your napkin on your lap.”
Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “Well, sorry for not being used to your lifestyle. I’d rather eat KFC in my living room
than spend time cutting steak here.”
“I could help you adjust.”
“This is the only time I’ll be visiting; I don't need to adjust to anything.”
 Donghyun blocked Mingyu when he tried walking away. “But, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I said that I’m fine,” Mingyu argued.
Donghyun smiled crookedly. “Alright then, sorry for being so persistent. You just seemed uneasy at the table,
okay?”
“How would you know that?”
“Because,” Donghyun laughed, looked down sheepishly, then continued, “I was, uh, watching you.”
Mingyu felt his heart beat an extra two pumps, and two cities away, Wonwoo was smiling as he hung pictures of
them over his study desk.

September 1st, 2014

Poking the white foam of his cappuccino, Wonwoo waited a while longer for Jisoo to arrive for their coffee “date”
(there was no other word for it as far as they knew, so calling it a date was the only thing they could conclude with,
even if they knew it was everything but). Wonwoo never knew where Jisoo attended university and only knew that
he studied out of the city; but three weeks in his stay, they coincidentally met at a supermarket. Turned out they
went to the same university and had their core classes in buildings not too far from each other.
It was a relief that Wonwoo found Jisoo at the supermarket, because sharing a dorm with a small roommate with
pink hair made life seem a lot lonelier than he wanted. He didn’t explore out of his dorm unless he needed to, and
whenever he met faces, he forgot them hours later. Now that he had Jisoo, he was able to know where everything
was without awkwardly asking another student on the street, and the company Jisoo provided was nice.
When Wonwoo heard the café’s bell chime, he turned in his seat and saw Jisoo approach his table. “Hey,” he
greeted, smiling.
Jisoo smiled back, setting his bag on the chair in front of Wonwoo. “What’s up? Oh, is that cappuchino?”
“Yeah, I was just waiting here for a short while.” He pushed the cup of coffee to Jisoo. “You want some?”
Jisoo shook his head as his eyes wandered to the chalkboard menu. “Nah, I’m more of a tea person.”
“Same, but I needed the boost.”
“Not enough sleep?”
Wonwoo shrugged, refusing to answer. It was like that ever since he left home, sleeping at uneven times that made
him whine in frustration. The aura of his bedroom was a lot more different than the comfort of his actual home, and
it made him homesick. His roommate Jihoon, although tsundere and always mocking the way Wonwoo decorated
his side of the room with pictures and posters of cats, sometimes gave up his rest and sang to Wonwoo until his soft
snores answered Jihoon’s questions. But Jihoon couldn’t sing to him every single night, 365 days a year, so
Wonwoo remained restless nonetheless.
At times like this, Wonwoo usually texted Seokmin about how lonely college life really was for him. Although
Seokmin couldn’t relate, because college life for him was great, he still managed to assure Wonwoo that things
would be okay eventually. If Seokmin couldn’t answer his texts, Wonwoo would listen to audio recordings of his
friend singing and wait for slumber to finally give him a chance.
“If you can’t sleep, just tell me,” Jisoo offered, his attention on Wonwoo again, this time with a concerned gaze.
“I’ll help you.”
Wonwoo shook his head. “I don’t want to take up so much of your time, especially when it happens almost every
night. I fall asleep eventually, so it’s not that big of a problem.”
“Are you sure?” Jisoo asked. “You’re starting to have bags under your eyes; I’m worried.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Jisoo didn't believe him, not the slightest bit, but he tried to convince himself that Wonwoo was telling him the
truth. It was hard to really believe someone when they didn't look their best, though. Nonetheless, he nodded and
moved on to other topics.
Partway through their conversation, they finished their drinks and left the café to meet up with their college friends
at a bowling alley seven miles away from where they were. Since Jisoo’s car was up for repair at the autoshop, he
had to ride in Wonwoo’s truck so they could pick up Jihoon too.
“Have you been talking to Mingyu?” Jisoo asked Wonwoo, once the car was on the road again. “I heard you guys
kissed a while back and now things are awkward.”
Wonwoo cringed at the last word. “Seokmin told you, didn’t he?”
“He tells me everything,” Jisoo laughed.
“It’s just-” Wonwoo sighed as he made a left turn, having difficulty finding the right words to explain. “We’re
really trying to not make things awkward. We can talk for hours, but it’s so hard to ignore the tension. He’s scared
of… us happening, you know? It sounds just as stupid as it is, but he doesn't want to ruin anything between us.”
Between them, Jihoon scoffed. “Ironically enough, it seems like things are already ruined between you two.”
“Come on, don’t say that,” Wonwoo said. “I know things are shit right now, but it’s not like it can’t be fixed.”
“I’m just saying,” Jihoon continued. “I don't see you guys talk, and I don't even know what this Minwoo guy looks
like.”
“It’s Mingyu,” Wonwoo corrected, “and we talk every day; you’ve seen me FaceTime him.”
“But there’s a difference between talking and actually talking.”
Wonwoo stopped at a red light and rolled his eyes, saying, “It’s complicated, alright? I don’t even think Mingyu
was into guys before we kissed.”
“Oh yeah,” Jisoo murmured, “he used to date a lot of girls, didn't he?”
Wonwoo nodded, moving the car when the light switched to green. “His longest relationship barely lasted half a
year, I think.”
“You wanna fuck a guy like that?” Jihoon questioned with disgust in his voice. “I always found you as the type to
fall in love with someone more stable, considering your personality.”
Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at that, because it was kind of true. Mingyu was always a bit reckless; it was
practically coded in his DNA. It explained his personality, how he was always so free spirited and outgoing. Even
his physical appearance made him look like he’d crash into a wall for fun.
At the other end of the social pole was Wonwoo, who was more quiet than loud; less interested in partying
compared to others. He preferred being behind the camera over standing in front of the lens, and liked watching
basketball games more than actually playing in them. So much of who he was, was the opposite of who Mingyu
was.
“You’re not the only one,” Wonwoo murmured, smiling a little.
They pulled up to park at the side of the street, leaving the truck once the ignition was turned off. Wonwoo twirled
his key ring on his finger as he stalked behind his friends and followed them inside the building; only, it wasn’t
really a bowling place. It was a bar with a retro bowling alley of six lanes and an attached restaurant serving
comfort food.
The place was fairly packed; all six lanes were occupied by groups of loud college students, the stools at the bar
were taken, and tables - including those that were located upstairs - were either used by customers or in need of
cleaning. Workers had their hair tied up, even the guys, and they all wore black collared shirts with bowling pins
embroidered on the breast. The gigantic lighting fixtures shaped as bowling pins hanging from the ceiling didn’t
necessarily help make the room appear less filled up.
Wonwoo sighed. He should’ve expected that his friends would’ve invited him to a place like this, because he didn’t
like drinking and they liked whatever he didn’t. Almost everything in that bar had alcohol, including the fried
chicken and beef patties. There was so much alcohol that he could barely trust their bottled water in fear of it being
vodka stored in plastic.
Jihoon must’ve heard Wonwoo sigh, because he was smirking wickedly to himself. Wonwoo glared down at him.
“You said this was just a bowling place.”
“It is,” Jihoon replied, “but it’s also a bar with hecka good french fries.”
“Dude.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes as he turned to look at Wonwoo. “Wonwoo, come on; you’re so stressed at the dorm for no
reason, and you need to lighten up. A little beer won’t hurt.”
“Fuck, Jihoon, do you think I don’t drink because I want to stay alcohol-free?” They slowed their pace the closer
they got to the third lane, where their other friends were. “I’m not some innocent lowlife who thinks drinking is the
biggest sin. I just don’t like it.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say-”
Jihoon was cut off by a hard pat on his back, his words turned into a strangled “ack!”. Wonwoo grinned, thinking
of it as karma for convincing him that going to a bar was a good idea.
“Whaddup, Jihoonie!”
Swearing under his breath, Jihoon punched the person square on the chest and shouted, “Don’t do that Soonyoung,
what the hell?!”
Soonyoung was a dance major with coffee hair and angled eyes. He was wearing a bomber jacket, the same one he
always wore on a daily basis, and a pair of used Nike’s that he most likely bought off of Craigslist. Although he
was a dance genius, he had a personality that was dumb as hell. It reminded Wonwoo of Junhui, sometimes.
While Soonyoung was hunched over and rubbing his chest to ease the pain, Wonwoo gently patted his shoulder as
he walked away. “Never have I ever been so thankful to have you here.”
“I just wanted to say hi,” he groaned.
“Then just say it,” Jihoon barked, “don’t get physical.”
Soonyoung rotated on his heels and landed his butt on the gray bowling chair. He leaned back, groaning again.
“Don’t touch the human strawberry - noted.”
Wonwoo got over the alcohol thing three minutes later, and it was easy to tell because he was finally smiling -
genuinely - and eating the fries that Jihoon raved over. He watched his friends - Jisoo, Jihoon, Soonyoung, Jisoo’s
girlfriend, and a couple others from Soonyoung’s dance crew - take turns rolling ten-pound balls down the lane.
Wonwoo had talked to Jisoo and Soonyoung’s additional invitees, but he wasn’t close enough to kick any of them
as hard as he kicked Junhui (it wasn’t like he really wanted to, though). They were nice, however, and that was all
that really mattered.
He skipped the first round of bowling and spent his time eating instead. The fried chicken wasn’t so bad, and the
fact that they were served on wooden sticks made Wonwoo love them more than he already did. There were
occasional times when Soonyoung would take bites from Wonwoo’s food without permission, but Wonwoo didn’t
mind as long as there was still some left for himself.
Twenty minutes in the game and Jihoon was in the lead. Wonwoo wasn’t surprised; Jihoon, although short, was
great at every sport he played. He was team captain of the junior varsity volleyball team during freshman year,
played as goalie during his last two years of high school, and always won when it came to one-on-one basketball. It
was almost unreal, because who the hell was able to make four strikes in a row?
“That’s it,” Soonyoung groaned after Jihoon’s second spare, “you are no longer part of this game. It’s unfair to all
of us.”
Jihoon scowled. “Not my fault you guys suck.”
“You know what” - Soonyoung held his hand out for Wonwoo to slap - “tag team, let’s go Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo stuck a fry in his mouth, his eyebrow raised in question. “Tag team? We aren’t wrestling, Soonyoung.”
“Fine” - Soonyoung switched to his latter hand for Jisoo to slap instead - “let’s go, Jisoo-hyung. Us against
Jihoon.”
Jisoo slowly moved the hand away, staring at Soonyoung oddly. “Maybe you’ve had too much to drink.”
“If anything, I haven’t had enough to drink.” He raised his hand for a waiter to spot him. “Jeonghan! Six beers,
please!”
“Minus one,” Wonwoo added in a low murmur.
“What, you still don’t drink? Even Jisoo drinks.”
Wonwoo threw his hands up, then flopped them back down to the table. “Why does everyone talk like that
whenever I say I don’t drink? I don’t like the taste, and I’d rather not test my alcohol tolerance at a public place like
this. I’d probably pass out after half a shot of vodka.”
“Okay, okay, chill.” Soonyoung held his hands up in defense. “I was just saying. You kind of look like the type to
drink and party and be some sex God.”
Jihoon snorted, his eyes torn away from Jisoo’s girlfriend as she rolled the ball down their lane. “He’s had sex, like,
twice. I doubt they were any good, either.”
Wonwoo sent Jihoon a sarcastic grin and glare, saying, “I went to a couple of parties and the guys were hot, okay.
At least they taught me what not to do during sex, like say someone else’s name or climax too early.”
Soonyoung choked on air. “TMI, Wonwoo. I don’t need to know about your gay sex experiences.”
Just as Jihoon was about to add more to the conversation, a waiter with broad shoulders and long, silver hair
approached their table. He had a tray of six beers, and Wonwoo was impressed at how the waiter could carry all of
that without any spills or broken glasses. “Six beers,” the waiter said, placing the drinks on the table, one by one.
“Thanks, Jeonghan,” Soonyoung hummed after a quick sip. “You’re the best man!”
The waiter - Jeonghan, Wonwoo assumed - smiled and nodded. As he was about to leave, Wonwoo said, “Excuse
me,” and attracted him back to their table.
“What can I do for you?” The smile he had seemed almost straining.
“I don’t, uh, drink.” Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan apologetically. “My friend just thought he was doing me a favor.
Can I get water instead?”
Wonwoo expected to receive a dirty look from Jeonghan. Carrying that many beers to a table and having to return
one of them would’ve made any waiter want to spit on their customers, especially because they had other people to
serve - but not Jeonghan. Instead, Jeonghan stared at Wonwoo for a couple seconds, looking a bit distracted. Then,
he smiled until his eyes turned into dark slits and took the glass before walking away.
“I think Jeonghan’s got a thing for you,” Jihoon said to Wonwoo, sitting in the seat across from him. “I can see it in
his eyes.”
“You’re probably seeing the wrong thing, friend.”
“I’m your roommate, not your friend.” Jihoon took the last fry on the plate and ate it. “Look, I know Jeonghan. We
were on the same soccer team. He definitely thinks you’re a hopeless, sexy, lonely motherfucker.”
Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “Why do I have a feeling that you told him something?”
“I didn't say anything this time,” Jihoon swore.
Only a small bit of Wonwoo believed his roommate. It wasn’t the first time Jihoon tried hooking him up with
someone decent, or at least someone decent in the shorter one’s eyes. Wonwoo was - and quote - “a sad man who
takes his looks for granted,” and Jihoon wanted to do his roommate an unasked favor by finding guys on Grindr for
him. The guys Jihoon found were attractive, admittedly, but there was always something about them that became a
turn off.
“Good, because last time you tried hooking me up with someone, they had a weird fetish for my hands.” Wonwoo
sighed. “I know you’re trying to help, but I doubt Jeonghan would have a thing for me if we haven't even talked for
three minutes.”
“But are you interested?”
“Jeonghan’s pretty hot, but-”
“There you have it! Just go on a date with him and see how it goes! He probably doesn't have a weird fetish like
that one guy.”
“Jihoon.”
“Wonwoo, please.” Jihoon clasped his hands together and begged - literally begged - for the latter to consider his
idea. “It’ll be good for you.”
Wonwoo stared at Jihoon, and when Jeonghan came back with a glass of water, his eyes remained. As Jeonghan
left to serve other customers, Wonwoo said to Jihoon, “Only I can decide what's good for me and what isn't.”

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Bowling ended at ten o’clock, when Soonyoung became too tipsy to hold a bowling ball without dropping it on his
foot. Jisoo left with his girlfriend; Soonyoung’s dance friends stayed awhile longer; and Jihoon and Soonyoung
carpooled in Wonwoo’s truck. Wonwoo had a headache; not from Soonyoung’s drunk ass singing along to Mariah
Carey, but from the lack of sleep he had. He was tired all over, and he just wanted to lay down and rest.
Not long before they arrived at Soonyoung’s apartment, Jihoon asked Wonwoo if he was okay. Jihoon noticed the
droopiness in his friend’s eyes, the heavier aura around him, and couldn’t ignore it; but Jihoon noticed everything,
so it wasn’t a new question. He was the type to see people and make deductions, and most of the time he was right.
That’s what he did with Wonwoo when they first met, calling him a mysterious introvert that looked too attractive
to be real.
Since Jihoon was also drunk - not as drunk as Soonyoung, but still drunk - Wonwoo had to carry Soonyoung to his
apartment himself. He slurred some nonsense as they sauntered to the elevator, then fell asleep standing against
Wonwoo’s shoulder. Thanks to his surprising level of strength, Wonwoo carried Soonyoung to his flat - his friend’s
legs hugging his waist, arms thrown over his shoulders, and chest against the other’s - while Jihoon gripped the
back of Wonwoo’s shirt and followed closely behind.
“Where’re your keys, Soonyoung?” Wonwoo grunted, struggling to keep his friend up.
Soonyoung murmured incoherent words as he pointed at his back pocket. Wonwoo asked Jihoon to get them for
him and unlock the door, and once they were inside the apartment, Wonwoo headed straight for Soonyoung’s
room. It was messy, that was an understatement, but not messy enough to make anyone trip on any misplaced
items. He stepped over a few shirts before gently placing Soonyoung in bed, pulling the navy blue duvet over his
body.
Tired, Wonwoo sat at the edge with the lower part of his back touching Soonyoung’s knees. At times like this, he
wished he really did drink so he could pass out like his friends usually did. But he and alcohol were never a great
match. Drinking made him feel sick, and so did the simple thought of it. He guessed that it must've invited too
many memories of Mingyu, how he drank on their last night together. Something about it was unsettling.
Wonwoo turned when he heard Soonyoung mumble, “Thanks, Wonwoo. You’re a good friend.”
Pursing his lips to smile, Wonwoo patted Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Anytime.”
“Yeah.” There’s silence, mostly because Soonyoung fell asleep for a few seconds before speaking again. And when
he finally talked, his words made Wonwoo feel great about himself, like suffering through his stress and insomnia
was worth it if he got to see the people he loved in the end. He thought this because Soonyoung said, “You deserve
happiness, Wonwoo.”
“Thank you, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo got up and left the room, turning off the lights and closing the door as he did.
Jihoon was sleeping on Soonyoung’s couch when he walked in the living room, his pink hair scattered over the
brown fabric of the couch cushion. Sighing, Wonwoo sat next to his roommate’s head, playing with the latter’s soft
hair. “I guess I’ll just wait until you wake up,” he murmured.
Wonwoo occupied himself by staring at his reflection on the TV screen. There were no thoughts, not a single one
about how he looked; he just stared with an empty mind and half-filled heart. You deserve happiness. He hoped that
was true.
His phone rung twenty minutes before the clock reached eleven. He pulled out his device from his pocket and read
the caller ID, blinking when he realized Mingyu was calling to FaceTime. A quick rush of nervousness and flutters
oceaned over him as he answered the call.
“Wonwoo!”
He lazily smiled at the camera as Mingyu’s face appeared on his screen. “Hey.”
“You look tired,” Mingyu pointed out, pouting. “Long day?”
“Long week, actually.”
“You look like you’ll pass out at any second. Maybe you should rest… I can hang up if you wa-”
“No,” Wonwoo interrupted, groggy but insistent, “I want to talk to you. It feels like it’s been a while.”
Mingyu smiled, looking down. “Yeah, it really does feel like a while, huh?” His smile faded as the silence allowed
him to think, and Wonwoo noticed. “I really miss you.”
Wonwoo closed his eyes. He missed Mingyu, too - so, so much. He longed for his warm hugs, the feeling of
Mingyu’s calloused fingers leading him to their tree house, the smell of mint and chocolate embracing his nose
whenever they were together, and the weight of Mingyu’s laugh sitting over his heart. There was too much to miss,
and distance and time was starting to get in the way of it. “I miss you too, Gyu,” Wonwoo whispered.
He felt like breaking down. He felt like he needed to just cry and scream to release all of his pent up frustration of
being away from home, of losing so much sleep and energy for no reason. Wonwoo just wanted to run into
Mingyu’s arms and feel safe like he always did. He wanted the comfort and warmth his best friend provided,
because that was all he ever really needed to feel relaxed. He wanted to feel Mingyu’s love again, on his lips and
against his skin.
“I’ve been staying at my dad’s for the past few weeks,” Mingyu confessed. “It’s weird, but I think we’re getting
along. He lives near this country club by the mountains.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you guys are on okay terms now.” Wonwoo yawned. “Are you comfortable there, though?”
Mingyu shrugged, looking around the room he was in. Wonwoo was able to see the chandelier behind him. “Not
really. I’m not used to how uptight everyone can be here. There’s this guy here who’s been really nice, though, and
I guess he’s making things a little more tolerable.
“Who is it?” Wonwoo asked.
“Uh,” Mingyu smiled a little, “his name is Donghyun.”
There was a squeaking sound that came from Mingyu’s mic, and Wonwoo watched as the latter smiled up, all teeth
and eyes. “Oh, is someone there with you?”
 “Y-yeah” - Mingyu got up and stood by someone Wonwoo couldn’t recognize - “this is the Donghyun I was
talking about. He teaches kids golf at the country club with his cousin.”
Donghyun grinned, waving slightly. Wonwoo didn’t have the energy to return the gesture, so he simply smiled.
“Hi, Donghyun.”
“Hi, Won… woo…” Donghyun glanced up at Mingyu to check if he got Wonwoo’s name right, and when Mingyu
nodded, he looked satisfied. “I like your glasses.”
That wasn’t the only time someone complimented his new specs. There had been a number of people who said the
wired frames complimented his face shape and eyes nicely. Hearing it come from a stranger, however, made it
more special. “Thanks,” Wonwoo replied. “I like your hair.”
“Thank you.” Donghyun turned his head to whisper something to Mingyu. When they pulled apart, Mingyu’s smile
faltered and Donghyun left the room.
Concerned, Wonwoo asked Mingyu, “Is everything okay?”
“Just fine,” Mingyu sighed, “but I gotta join my dad for movie marathon night with Seungcheol. I’m sorry this call
was so short. Forgive me, please? I’ll call you again tomorrow, maybe treat you to some Korean barbecue when
you visit home.”
How sweet. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to get between you and your dad, so I’m okay with it. Tell me how it goes
later?”
“I will.” Mingyu’s expression softened, but he still smiled. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
When Mingyu hung up, Wonwoo sat there feeling empty once again. It hurt knowing that his best friend was living
greatly while he wasn’t; getting his life together while Wonwoo’s was falling apart little by little. Nostalgia was
gnawing at Wonwoo's limbs and yanking the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he wished for a way to quit
its constant taunting. And the taunting ended when he felt Jihoon squeeze his hand and tell him to sleep, because
sleeping would make Wonwoo forget about the feeling until the next day. For once, Wonwoo didn't protest.

20
March 9th, 2015
Wonwoo was walking on wood, the unstable kind that squeaked against his feet. He felt uneasy, like going off
balance would make him fall over and collide with the ground. The wind was screaming at him - pressuring him to
keep moving. With one strong blow, the surface rocked thirty-degrees counter-clockwise. Wonwoo whimpered and
grabbed the ropes barricading him, eyes shut as his grip tightened. He was holding his breath, heartstrings
twisting with anxiety and apprehension while they tried to hold on.
Everything was moving - the trees, the rope, his dark hair - but two things remained untouched by the wind: the
tree house and the person standing inside. Wonwoo squinted his eyes to see past his tousled fringe, and blocked
away the dust passing his face. That’s when he saw it; a boy, towering at six feet tall and holding his hand out, was
waiting for him at the other end.
“Mingyu?”
“Wonwoo!” Mingyu shouted, his arm stretched forward. “Grab my hand!”
But when Wonwoo reached out, he felt his heart crash in his stomach as his foot broke through the plank. The
bridge flipped, tossed him over, and he was then falling what seemed like a hundred feet closer to the ground.
“NO! Wonwoo!”
The last thing he saw was the look of horror on Mingyu’s face before everything went black.
 +

“Wonwoo, wake up!”

Wonwoo gasped awake, air barely making it in his lungs as his eyes shot open. He sat up, his erratic heartbeat
pressing against his ears, and peered rapidly around him to take in his surroundings. He was in his dorm. Jihoon
was sitting over his legs. The sun was just starting to rise. He was okay.
Everything on him was shaking, cold sweat dripping at his temples and sticking to his palms. His chest heaved
along with his uneven breaths, and all he could feel was panic course through him. Wonwoo couldn’t calm down -
everything felt like icy fire, burning and freezing him all at once. Despite knowing that he was still in his room, it
was hard to believe whether or not it was reality.
As Wonwoo continued to hyperventilate and squirm - one hand squeezing his hair and another firm against the bed
sheets - Jihoon held the sides of Wonwoo’s cheeks and forced them to make eye contact. “It’s okay,” he tried to
ease, rubbing his thumb over his roommate's cheekbones, “you’re here, you’re safe. I need you to look at me and
take a deep breath.”
There were tears welling in Wonwoo’s eyes as he looked at Jihoon, and they turned the latter into a pink blur. He
blinked, letting the tears fall to the creases of Jihoon’s thumbs, and took a deep breath. It was shaky once he
released it, but his anxiety was gone. He was starting to calm down.
“This is your third nightmare this week,” whispered Jihoon, as he used the sleeves of his sweater to wipe
Wonwoo’s cheeks. “This isn’t good for you.”
It was like Wonwoo couldn’t speak, because he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t think, and he still couldn’t
comprehend what was happening. Out of frustration and fear, Wonwoo pulled Jihoon closer to him and buried his
face in the other’s shoulder. He felt his chest constrict when the tears began to fall. “I miss home,” he whimpered,
“I want to go home.”
Jihoon couldn't find the right words to comfort Wonwoo, but he understood. Home was the only thing his
roommate ever spoke of, and it got to the point where the people around Wonwoo could feel his nostalgia prickle
their skin. The heartache was overwhelming, strong scented. Wonwoo needed to be home, regardless of anything
that stood in his way.
“Alright” - Jihoon held Wonwoo tightly, hands stroking his hair - “let’s take you home.”

March 12th, 2015

The best thing about road trips back home was driving underneath the arc of greenery along yeppeun highway. In
early spring, it’d smell purely of nature and clean air. During the day, sunlight often peeked between the small gaps
of the green canopy of leaves and flowers; and at night, all that could be seen was the moon and its gazillion
children. The soft breeze often invited the friendly feeling of brief eternalness that Wonwoo missed so much.
They left campus sometime around three in the morning. By the time they reached yeppeun highway, the sun had
already begun to touch the earth’s oceans and dirt. Wonwoo watched it all with his arms folded over his rolled
down window, chin resting atop of them.
“Hyung,” he said to Jisoo, from the passenger seat of his truck, “can we pull aside for a moment? I wanna see the
view.”
Jisoo pulled over half a mile later at a lone gas station. While he and Jihoon went inside to use the restroom,
Wonwoo moved to the back of his truck and sat there to enjoy the moment. He hadn’t properly seen the sun rise in
over a year, not ever since he moved away for university. The closest he’d ever gotten to seeing the sun wake up
was whenever he couldn't sleep, and realized that natural light was starting to shine through his blinds and cast
shadows on his sheets. He missed waking up with the sun.
A white BMW parked next to Wonwoo’s truck moments later, blocking his view of the sunrise. He glanced
through the driver’s window and noticed that the dog tag hanging hanging from the rearview mirror was swinging
side-to-side, reflecting the sun’s glare. He squinted to block out the shine.
Wonwoo was rubbing his eyes when the driver stepped out of his vehicle. Blinking, he quickly examined the
person’s overall appearance: pink lips, eyes hidden behind his vintage semi-rimless sunglasses, fair skin, and
brown hair. He looked like he bathed in hundred dollar bills and smelled of cologne no less than 200 U.S. dollars.
They made brief eye contact, and Wonwoo politely bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” The stranger returned the greeting, a sly and knowing smirk on his face as he did so. “The sunrise is
beautiful today, isn’t it?”
Wonwoo smiled and replied, “Yeah, it really is. You don’t see many like this very often.”
The latter closed his car door then pressed his back against it, crossing his arms. “That’s what yeppeun highway is
known for: its sunrises and sunsets; sometimes how big the moon looks at night.”
“I used to drive through here pretty often as a kid,” Wonwoo said, laughing, “so I’m familiar with it. It’s always
been my favorite part of going on road trips.”
The person, still unknown and nameless, lost his smirk and had an expression that turned soft, like he was thinking
as he looked at Wonwoo. He looked as if he’d just realized something. “You’re exactly how he described you,” he
murmured.
Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but managed to keep up his smile. “I’m sorry?”
“Uh” - He shook his head and looked away, chuckling awkwardly - “sorry, that was impolite. I was thinking of
something.”
“It’s, uh” - Wonwoo shifted uncomfortably - “fine. It’s fine.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you.” The stranger held his hand up to wave subtly, and Wonwoo did the same. “By the
way, I like your glasses.”
Wonwoo froze. The smirk was back on the person’s face before he turned around and entered the gas station,
leaving Wonwoo sitting there in disbelief. The hair was styled so differently compared to the last time Wonwoo
saw him, and he dressed differently too. The voice, he hardly recognized it throughout their entire conversation; but
hearing him compliment Wonwoo’s glasses made him too familiar to ignore.
“Donghyun?”

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“I’m home!”
A chorus of gasps and squeals commenced as Wonwoo’s cousins raced to hug him at the door. He stumbled back
when they embraced him all at once, the back of his foot hitting the doorframe. Smiling, he greeted them, then
stared in awe at how much they’d grown, especially Chan.
Chan grinned. “Hyung!”
“Look at you,” Wonwoo laughed, shaking his cousin’s hair. “I swear you grew a foot taller while I was gone.”
“Watch me be as tall as you by September,” Chan joked, earning an ear pinch from Wonwoo in return. Rubbing
away the pain, he peered behind Wonwoo and saw Jihoon and Jisoo waiting. “Oh, Jisoo-hyung! And Wonwoo’s
roommate!”
The rest of Wonwoo’s cousins followed Chan’s gaze, doe eyes landing on Jihoon and Jisoo. They were holding
backpacks stuffed with clothes and essentials, and something about it made them look like hitchhikers. Wonwoo
moved aside, his cousins still holding his waist as he did, and allowed his friends to enter the house.
After Wonwoo asked his cousins to take his friends’ bags to the bedroom for him, he was able to stand properly.
“Dino, this is Jihoon. He’s the guy who makes the music you like dancing to.”
Jihoon’s eyebrows rose. “He dances to my music?”
“Oh, my God.” Chan held his hand out to touch Jihoon’s face, but remembered his manners and remained still.
“You’re the Lee Jihoon. Woozi. The cool guy on SoundCloud.” He swiftly bent at a ninety-degree angle to bow;
making the other three flinch at the sudden movement. “MY ENTIRE DANCE CREW LOVES YOUR MUSIC!”
Jihoon grinned crookedly, holding Chan’s shoulder to bring him back up. “I’m flattered. Maybe I’ll visit your
dance crew someday?”
“NOW? How ‘bout now? I have practice in an hour and it’d be so cool if you came.”
He looked up at Wonwoo, unsure of what to say. Wonwoo shrugged and murmured, “Up to you.”
It only took Jihoon a couple of seconds to decide; he sighed, nodded and agreed to the condition of eating before
leaving the house. Because of that, Chan rushed the three to the dining room to eat breakfast with Wonwoo’s
parents, aunts and uncles. The adults welcomed them with warm smiles and hot bowls of spicy ramen. The college
students devoured the noodles quickly, because they didn’t bother getting food before they left their dorms, and
chatted with Wonwoo’s family before Chan and Jihoon left for practice.
Half an hour after Jihoon left, Seokmin and Junhui arrived with bags of confetti and ice pops.
“Welcome back, dudes!” Junhui said cheerfully, tossing confetti in the air. As the kids competed each other to see
who could catch the most confetti, Seokmin threw his arms around Jisoo and Wonwoo’s shoulders. “It’s been, like,
a year.”
Wonwoo laughed, shaking the confetti out of his hair. “Missed us?”
“A little too much,” Junhui said. “Everyone missed you. And Seokmin’s been dying to tell you the news.”
“What news?” Jisoo asked.
Seokmin smiled and bounced his eyebrows at Junhui, who also did the same. Jisoo and Wonwoo looked at each
other, concerned. “I,” Seokmin began, “am back on the dating train, baby!”
Wonwoo said, “So you’re in a relationship now?”
Seokmin’s smile dropped. “Yeah, no. I’ve just been on dates, but I’m not officially dating anyone.”
“Yet,” Junhui added.”
Pointing at the former, Seokmin repeated, “Yet.”
For the rest of the morning the four boys played GTA in Wonwoo’s living room, because Wonwoo’s younger
cousins were either at their weekend classes or completing community service. They took advantage of the
opportunity to shoot pigeons and T-bag characters they punched on the streets. Wonwoo hadn’t laughed so much in
a long while, and his depression was forgotten in that moment.
This was what home was like; being with the people Wonwoo loved and laughing just because he was happy, not
just because something was funny. Home was being hugged by his cousins, teasing Chan until he cried, arguing
with Minsuh about bathroom privileges, and helping his mom clean the dishes. This was what he missed over the
months he was absent from his family’s lives. This was what he cried and lost sleep over, and this was what he
needed to feel okay.
While Jisoo and Jun were looking up cheats to get a helicopter, Seokmin nudged Wonwoo’s shoulder with his own.
“Hey,” he said softly, making sure the others couldn’t hear him, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Jun and I
are going to steal Jisoo from you at around two.”
“Why?” Wonwoo asked.
Seokmin smirked, looking back at the screen. “Because Mingyu’s coming over to take you out for the rest of the
day.”
Wonwoo’s cheeks reddened upon hearing “Mingyu” and “take you out” in one sentence. He said, “What do you
mean by ‘take out’?”
“I mean, take out. Kind of like a date, but not really.” He tried to hold back a laugh when he glanced at Wonwoo,
but failed. “He’s been planning this ‘take out’ thing ever since he heard you were visiting. He seems excited.”
“So… does this mean I should feel the same?”
Seokmin shrugged. “Probably.” His attention was fully switched to the TV after Junhui had complete control of the
helicopter in the game, giggling manically as he tried crashing it into a building before Jisoo snatched the controller
away from him. Seokmin jokingly shoved Junhui from behind. “What the hell Jun? That’s not how you handle a
fucking helicopter!”
Meanwhile, Wonwoo only sat there thinking about how he’d react to seeing Mingyu and whether or not he’d bring
up Donghyun anytime soon.

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At two o’clock sharp, Mingyu knocked on the door and welcomed Wonwoo by giving him milk tea boba and a large
stuffed hippo. Seokmin took Mingyu’s arrival as his and Junhui’s cue to leave the house, and he threw Jisoo over his
shoulder on his way out. Jisoo couldn’t stop rambling as they left the house, squirming in Seokmin’s hold. “What,
where’re we going? Wonwoo? Min- Hey!” Junhui patted Jisoo’s butt and told him not to worry about it, then lead
them to the car to go their local cinema.
Mingyu immediately took Wonwoo out once their friends were gone. He finally had a car, a black one from his
dad, and they rode it to the treehouse for a small picnic Mingyu put together. They ate Minghao’s homemade sushi
rolls and sipped on juice boxes, talking about things that were much less than personal. Just like they used to,
Wonwoo and Mingyu tossed grapes at each other and caught them in their mouths as music played on Mingyu’s
phone.
The best part about them being together again was probably watching Mingyu (try to) tap dance to Michael Bublé
in front of the lake, his feet struggling as they moved over the dirt. And maybe witnessing him slip sideways and
fall shoulder first was the highlight of it all.
“I try putting up a performance to welcome you back and this is what I get,” Mingyu groaned, unable to admit how
happy he really felt to hear Wonwoo laugh again. “You’re so mean.”
Between laughs, Wonwoo said, “You look like that meme of an old woman on the floor and calling for life alert.”
He cackled again and fell back, clutching his stomach as Mingyu joined in. They remained on the floor with tears
brimming their eyes and short breaths and cramped stomachs, but the feeling wasn’t anything but enjoyable.
Neither of them felt that way in months.
As his laughter waned, Mingyu flipped over so that his back was on the dirt. “I miss this.”
“Me, too,” Wonwoo agreed. “I’m glad I was able to visit after so long.”
“Same.” Mingyu watched as Wonwoo sat up and dusted off the dry dirt on his clothes. When he crossed his legs
and propped his elbows on his knees, both hands cradling his own cheeks, Mingyu grinned. “Did you get cuter in
college, or has it just been that long?”
Wonwoo smiled and hid his face in his hands, bashful. Then, because he knew Mingyu wouldn’t expect it,
Wonwoo threw a handful of dirt at his best friend’s chest and groaned loudly. “Don’t say things like that! It’s so
embarrassing.”
“Wonwoo’s a cutieee,” Mingyu cooed, laughing again and flinching away when another handful of dirt was thrown
at him. “You’re getting dirt all over me!”
“You deserve it!”
Wonwoo closed his eyes and began flailing his arms around, creating a cloud of dry dirt around him and Mingyu.
Because Mingyu knew Wonwoo wouldn’t stop thrashing unless he had a reason to, he sat up and grabbed the
latter’s wrists. “Chill!” But Wonwoo was reckless and unforgiving, so he continued to squirm and make awkward
sounds. He didn’t actually - completely - stop until Mingyu held his cheeks and squeezed them together, puckering
his lips like a fish.
“You’re in college, but still act like you’re five,” Mingyu laughed. He swirled his hands against Wonwoo’s cheeks
to make his head bob side-to-side. “I’m surprised.”
“Yur en esshoe,” Wonwoo tried to say, but his squished cheeks muffled his pronunciation.
“But this asshole is your best friend, so ha.”
Wonwoo stuck his tongue out and pressed his lips over it, blowing a slobbery raspberry in Mingyu’s face. The
younger flinched back and released Wonwoo’s cheeks to wipe away the saliva. “Ew!”
“Karma!”
And that’s basically how their entire day played out. They stayed at the tree house - not inside, but in the
approximate area of it - and did the things they did when they were younger, before Wonwoo left eleven months
ago. They took pictures, rode a boat, fenced with cattails, and simply talked to the point of breathlessness. The
constant teasing and boisterous laughs went on for hours, even after sundown, but time felt short and un-weighted.
Before they knew it, it was already nine o’clock. Wonwoo and Mingyu spent the remainder of the night on a picnic
blanket, facing the sky as they gazed at the stars. Mingyu would joke and name them after historical people; while
Wonwoo would point out certain ones, connect the dots, and turn them into shapes and figures.
“It’s fun looking at the stars” - Wonwoo held his hand up and spreaded his fingers - “within the spaces of your
fingers.”
Mingyu copied Wonwoo, their index fingers brushing over each other when he widened the gaps. “Why?” he
asked.
“Because there’s an infinite number of stars, but there isn’t enough time to count them all. When you do this, you
limit them to a few and you can see how many there are.” Wonwoo counted. “I have eight between my pinky and
ring finger.”
Right then and there Mingyu smiled, because Wonwoo saw the world so differently and with such beauty in his
eyes - and Mingyu admired it immensely. Hesitantly, Mingyu pressed their palms together and counted. Thirteen.
“There’s thirteen stars between us,” he murmured. “Should that symbolize something?”
“I could bullshit a meaningful myth, if that’s what you’re asking,” Wonwoo said, causing Mingyu to snicker. He
smiled as he looked at their hands, and then slipped his fingers between the gaps of Mingyu’s, intertwining them.
“Thirteen stars means thirteen chances before they all run out. We have thirteen chances.”
Mingyu rubbed his thumb over Wonwoo’s skin. “How many do you think we have left?”
Wonwoo shrugged, clueless as to how many they really had. “I’m not sure. We’ve probably wasted some, though.”
“I hope a majority of them is left,” Mingyu said.
“I hope so, too.”
 Mingyu bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. “I really missed you, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo nodded, closing his eyes for more than a couple seconds, saying, “And you have no idea how much I
missed you.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu paused before he sat up to check the time. It was getting closer to ten o’clock. “Shit, it’s late.”
“Maybe we should go,” Wonwoo sighed. He got up and patted his legs to remove whatever was on his jeans. But
Mingyu tugged his flannel and looked up at him, eyes shining innocently. “Is something wrong?”
“Let’s stay a little longer,” Mingyu said.
Wonwoo sat back down, their shoulders touching again. “Why?”
“Because” - Wonwoo saw Mingyu’s chest rise and deflate as he took a deep breath. Mingyu rested his head on the
elder’s shoulder. - “I can be myself whenever I’m here with you, just us and the tree house. I’d like to be myself for
a while more.”
“Have you been feeling different lately?”
Mingyu nodded. “A lot different.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Mingyu paused, thought for a bit, and waited before he answered, “Not even close.”

21

June 7th, 2015

Weeks after Wonwoo left home to resume his studies and take his exams, he was back again for his cousin’s
graduation. This time, however, he planned on staying awhile longer to spend his break with his friends and family.
Jihoon and Jisoo drove him there like before, in fear of Wonwoo’s insomnia affecting his trip home; only this time,
Soonyoung tagged along.
In the weeks before his cousin’s graduation, Wonwoo finally found some sense of comfort where he was. He was
able to laugh without forcing it; walk without looking down. With his friendship between him and his friends
tighter than before, finding solace became easier than anything else.
Jihoon somehow found the flashdrive of songs Wonwoo made with Seokmin in highschool, and blackmailed him
into doing a collaboration for his next SoundCloud project. They’d gotten closer ever since, enough for Jihoon – an
observant and cynical eighteen-turning-nineteen year-old with the worst comforting skills – to actually care about
his roommate. Not romantically, but in a way that seeing Wonwoo cry would make him do the same.
Then Wonwoo grew closer to Soonyoung, who he shared more inside jokes with than anyone else. Through daily
meetups at the coffee shop Soonyoung worked at, to tossing thumb-sized food into each other’s mouths at the
library, their friendship was somewhat expected. “If you were depressed again,” Soonyoung said one day at
Wonwoo and Jihoon’s dorm, chewing on a blueberry, “I’d do anything to make you feel better.”
(All Wonwoo could really do was say, “Thanks,” and smile, because he couldn’t promise if the depression had
really went away. He still lacked sleep, he couldn’t shake off the occasional feelings of emptiness some nights –
whenever Jihoon was asleep and unmindful of Wonwoo’s well being – and the stress of final exams made him lot
less happy than his friends wanted him to be. Nonetheless, he tried to play it off to lessen the worries of those
around him.)
Along with Jihoon and Soonyoung, even Jisoo had gotten more attached to Wonwoo. They were probably the
closest of their small group, but that was a given based on their past as old friends. Jisoo always knew when
something was wrong and talked Wonwoo through it as best as he could, and vise-versa. At the university they
attended, there wasn’t anyone who ever said one’s name without saying the other; it was always Jisoo and
Wonwoo, Wonwoo and Jisoo.
“Wow, is this really what you saw last time you came here?” Soonyoung asked, in awe as he peered at the flowers
shading over them on Yeppeun highway.
Jisoo glanced at the rearview mirror to look Soonyoung, his finger tapping the steering wheel of the minivan they
rented. “Yeah. It’s Wonwoo’s favorite place.”
Soonyoung peered to his left, where Wonwoo was sleeping with his head against the window and a fleece blanket
draped over his body. “Should I wake him up then?” He asked, lifting the fabric at one corner.
“No,” Jihoon replied quickly, scrolling through his Twitter feed, “he needs the sleep. He’ll see it on our way back
to the dorms.”
“Oh” – Soonyoung let go of the blanket and moved away – “Okay, I guess.”
It was quiet again, just like before, minus the sound of Jihoon’s Spotify playlist playing on the speakers.
Soonyoung continued to look out the window, as Jisoo drove and Jihoon did whatever on his phone. There wasn’t
much for them to say, not while Wonwoo was sleeping.
Yeppeun highway had Soonyoung thinking, mostly about Wonwoo. He began to wonder what Wonwoo was like
before the insomnia, before he had the bad dreams. Had it always been that way? And who was Kim Mingyu?
Wonwoo talked about him – a lot – and Soonyoung wanted to know what was so special about the guy to begin
with. Wonwoo always said they were best friends, but Soonyoung expected something more.
“Hong,” he murmured, grabbing Jisoo’s attention, “who’s Mingyu?”
Jisoo shrugged, eyes never straying from the road. “He’s Wonwoo’s best friend. I thought you knew that?”
“No I mean, what’s going on between them? I may not know who he is, but I’m not stupid enough to not notice the
way Wonwoo talks about him. He has pictures of Mingyu on his wall, and they talk on the phone every night.”
Soonyoung reached around the car seat to play with Jihoon’s hair. “Do they have a thing?”
“A complicated thing, yeah.” Jisoo laughed, turning to park at a gas station for a quick bathroom break. “Everyone
knows they’re practically in love, but stuff happened and” – He unbuckled his seatbelt, then looked over at
Soonyoung – “now it’s awkward. They’re still cute, though.”
As Jisoo opened the door and stepped out, Soonyoung poked his head between the driver and passenger seats.
“Then what about Wonwoo’s sleep problem? Is that because of Mingyu?”
“He misses home!” Jisoo answered from outside, stretching.
“But he’s been visiting more often, right?”
“So many questions.” Jisoo put his arms down and sighed. “Yeah, he’s starting to visit a lot; but when I say home, I
don’t mean home.”
Soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“When I say ‘home,’ I mean Mingyu.” Jisoo slid open the door to Wonwoo’s side. “Mingyu’s basically his home,
and he doesn’t feel comfortable away from him. No one’s ever comfortable when they’re away from home.” He
patted Wonwoo’s head, making the latter to blink and slowly lift his head up. “Wake up, tired eyes. Time to pee.”
The topic was no longer addressed after that, and Soonyoung didn’t ask any more questions. Between bathroom
breaks and buying snacks, however, Jihoon pulled Soonyoung aside and told him not to mention it in front of
Wonwoo. When Soonyoung asked why – not that he planned on bringing it up anyway – Jihoon only responded
with a cutthroat motion with his thumb.
There was no need to say anything though, because Wonwoo already knew – because Wonwoo was awake the
whole time.
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An hour upon their arrival, Chan had already stole Jihoon and Soonyoung from Wonwoo to show them off to his
dance crew, thus leaving Wonwoo with Jisoo and Minsuh at home. It wasn’t a busy afternoon, really; they mostly
spent the hours sleeping or, in Wonwoo’s case, reading. He found his old Harry Potter books and decided to reread
them. Going over his favorite scenes and lines, he felt twelve again.
When Wonwoo had reached past the hundredth page, Minsuh walked in and sat on the torn bean bag next to his.
She applied most of her weight on her right side and propped her head up with her arm, staring at Wonwoo as he
read.
“You know,” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “you used to tell me about how much you loved
Hermione. And when you first watched the movie” – She laughed – “you said you’d marry her someday.”
Wonwoo laughed along, but the sounds were hushed yet heartfelt. He remembered that day clearly, when he
admitted his love for Emma Watson and her “cute and poufy” hair. Minsuh made fun of him for it at the time, and
it went far enough to make him cry because he had lost hope in being with his true love.
“Hey, first loves are always the best,” Wonwoo joked, closing the book and setting it aside. “Look at me now: I’m
gay, and more in love with David Beckham than I was with Hermione.”
Minsuh nudged his shoulder and grinned. “Please, we all know that’s a lie.”
“You’re right. I’d go back to straight if Emma Watson were in this room right now.”
“But then I’d be the gay one here.”
They laughed again, and they laughed even more as their conversation went on. Partway through it, Jisoo woke up
from his nap and joined in for a moment before heading to the kitchen for a cup of instant ramen.
Wonwoo and Minsuh talked about things varying from ones that mattered and ones that didn’t. Things like that
weren’t bad, though, because as long as they felt comfortable, everything was okay.
Minsuh glanced out the window. “It’s a pretty day.”
Wonwoo peered up, watching the clouds move slowly across the canvas of light blue. It truly was pretty, because
the sun was beaming and offered just the right amount of sunlight in the room they were in. It was so pretty,
Wonwoo swore he could live off of it.
But it was a lie. The beauty, the light, the positivity they felt; it was fake – Barbie fake. The truth was, time was
festering – Wonwoo was festering – and the sky was only distracting him from noticing that tragic reality.
Oblivious, Wonwoo smiled and said, “It is. Maybe we could do something later?”
“We could go for a swim,” Minsuh offered, “or ride bikes with Jisoo.”
Riding bikes. It was funny how something as simple as that reminded him of Mingyu, how they used to ride them
to the treehouse after school. He briefly remembered the grin on Mingyu’s twelve year-old face as he rode his bike,
hair blown back unattractively. The image came and went, but it didn’t fail to make Wonwoo smile.
Speaking of Mingyu, they hadn’t talked in awhile. Wonwoo could’ve called him to schedule something together
before he left, or he could have surprised him at his place. The latter seemed like a good idea, but it’d be
embarrassing to knock on his door with the chances of Mingyu not being there.
Screw it. He wanted to surprise his best friend.
“Actually,” Wonwoo murmured, smiling, “how about we do something at sundown? Like hike that trail we used to
visit with Chan in middle school? We could bring the guys when they get back.”
Minsuh smirked, leaning back in her bean bag. “Let me guess,” she said, “you’re going to see Mingyu first?”
The crimson on Wonwoo’s cheeks answered for him.

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“IS THIS A JOKE?”

Wonwoo was in Mingyu’s arms, spinning off the ground. He arrived at Mingyu’s door seconds ago, and once they
were face to face, Mingyu was all grins and excitement. Mingyu didn’t hesitate to embrace Wonwoo immediately.
“No joke,” Wonwoo chuckled, “I’m right here.”
“Nope, this is definitely a dream.” Mingyu’s voice was muffled in the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. “Damn, I missed
you.”
There was a small, heartfelt smile on Wonwoo’s face as he hugged back. “Missed you, too.”
Mingyu jerked back, holding Wonwoo by the shoulders. “Let’s do something!”
“Oh, well, I’m going to go hiking with the guys and Minsuh later–”
“No, I mean now.”
Wonwoo blinked. “...Now.”
“Yes, now.” His eyes were big, like an excited puppy that just got its first chew toy. “I’ll hike with you, but I want
to do something now.”
“Um. Like what?”
“Let’s make cupcakes.”
“We can barely make sandwiches, Mingyu.”
“That never stopped us from making them, right?”

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Wonwoo stuck his head through the red neck-string of his apron, and when he reached back to tie the lower part,
someone else tugged him towards them. Knowing it was Mingyu, Wonwoo almost cursed; but he stopped himself as
he lost possession of the strings, and Mingyu tied them instead.
“Before you tell me I didn't have to,” Mingyu started, securing the knot he created, “I wanted to.”
Wonwoo’s cheeks turned red when he replied, “I wasn’t going to say that.”
Mingyu smiled and hugged the former from behind, grinning. “Liar.” He laughed, the sound clear in Wonwoo’s
ears. “I missed you.”
Bashful, Wonwoo pursed his lips together and turned around to hug Mingyu back. They rocked side-to-side like
that – “penguin walking,” Mingyu called it – all the way to the island where their ingredients were located,
laughing in the process. It took most of what they had to pull away from each other and start baking.
They used Mingyu’s laptop to look up a YouTube video on how to make cupcakes. It required a lot of measuring
apparently, and they didn’t know where the measuring cups were. They made a poor choice to eyeball everything
they added to the bowl.
Of course, eyeballing the flour and sugar lead to the useless bickering that was bound to happen. Wonwoo would
say, “Dude, that’s too much flour,” and Mingyu would reply with, “If anything, it’s too little flour,” then dump
another handful in the bowl. Getting physical, Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s hand to stop him, but the flour leftover
on his hand flew off and landed on the elder’s face.
“Oh, my God,” Mingyu said, his mouth agape but eyes shining with mischief.
Wonwoo’s eyes were closed and his lips were pursed, and when he blew from his nose the flour came out in a
powdery cloud of white. Mingyu broke into a fit of ugly – very ugly – laughs, pointing at Wonwoo’s face.
“I hate you,” Wonwoo sighed.
Mingyu continued to crack up. Seeking for revenge, Wonwoo dug his hand in the bag of flour and swung his arm,
throwing a godly amount of white on the side of Mingyu’s face. Mingyu’s smile dropped right away, making it
Wonwoo’s turn to laugh.
“You’re kidding, right,” Mingyu deadpanned, glaring. “So not funny.”
“You did it first!”
“You threw more!”
“You deserved it!”
“You know what?”
“What?”
Mingyu swooped down to trap Wonwoo in his arms, rubbing the flour on Wonwoo’s face and neck. Wonwoo
shrieked and struggled to escape, howling with laughter.
“Ah– Stop, that tickles! Mingyu!”
The ten minutes they could’ve used to bake turned into ten minutes of chasing each other around the kitchen,
throwing baking ingredients across the room, and sneaking strawberries in their mouths. They made a massive
mess without a doubt. It’d be a lot to clean later.
While Mingyu was taking a strawberry off the island, Wonwoo stood behind him with a can of whipped cream. He
tapped on the younger's shoulder, and when he turned around with a strawberry in his mouth, Wonwoo sprayed a
dollop of cream on his nose.
“You never give up do you,” Mingyu chuckled.
“Nope” – Wonwoo stood on his tippy-toes to lick the whipped cream off of Mingyu’s nose, smirking when he was
back on his heels – “because I always win.”
Licking whipped cream off Mingyu’s nose was daring and oddly sexual. Wonwoo didn’t know where it came
from; he was so comfortable, he didn’t keep his actions in check. It was a bad move, something he’d definitely
regret later, but he didn’t care. It was fun teasing Mingyu.
Right then and there, Mingyu could’ve sworn he’d kiss the life out of Wonwoo. He wanted to hold the sides of
Wonwoo’s face and lock their lips together, lick off the traces of flour lightly coating the corners. He wanted to
kiss Wonwoo the way people do in the movies: The shorter one’s back pressed against the island and him leaning
over. He knew he couldn’t do that, though. It was wrong.
Mingyu held himself back by grabbing the can from Wonwoo and spraying some on his chin, spreading it to his
cheeks. “There,” he said, “a beard.”
In the midst of spreading whipped cream on each other’s faces, Mingyu’s phone rang and a picture of Donghyun –
Mingyu kissing Donghyun on the cheek – appeared on the screen. Wonwoo’s smile faltered as he glanced over at
it. Before he could ask about the picture, Mingyu swiped the screenwith his elbow and put it on speaker.
“Donghyun, hi!”
“Mingyu? Hey, so about the reservations for tonight–”
Wonwoo looked at Mingyu. “Reservations? What happened to hiking with the guys?”
“Are you with someone right now? I can call later if you want, it’s no big deal–”
“No,” Mingyu cut in, glancing at Wonwoo before looking down at his phone again. He sighed. “So, um, what
about the reservations? Sorry, I completely forgot and got kinda distracted.”
“So I’m a distraction now?” Wonwoo whispered. Mingyu held a finger to his lips for Wonwoo to stay quiet.
“Forgot? Mingyu, we reserved the dinner at five; it’s four now. I’m already on my way.”
Mingyu cursed under his breath and quickly rinsed his hands before taking off his apron. “I-I’m on my way, too!
Just– I might be a little late. Traffic’s being a pain in the butt, haha.” He grabbed his phone off the counter. “Drive
safely, babe!”
He then hung up, and when he did, Wonwoo didn’t know what else to do. Mingyu was already sprinting out the
kitchen and running upstairs to get ready, and Wonwoo was left alone. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to clean
up, or continue mixing the bowl, or follow Mingyu. He just stood there, waiting and doing nothing.
Wonwoo was never good at handling things that came abruptly. Depending on the situation, he’d either piss his
pants in panic or stand still, trying to take in whatever was happening. This time it was different, however, because
he felt more upset than confused.
What the hell was that?
Mingyu burst through the kitchen in nothing but a white, lazily buttoned shirt and orange boxers, jogging past
Wonwoo, then crouching in front of the dryer adjacent to the pantry. He yanked it open, the door hitting the wall,
and began fishing for something inside.
“Shit, I lost my pants.”
Why was he getting dressed? “Mingyu, what’re you doing? Where are you going?”
Breathless, Mingyu answered, “Okay, short story made shorter: I have reservations at this really cool restaurant for
Donghyun and I, but I totally forgot because you were here and made me forget about my date, so–”
“Date?” Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, pissed off and confused. “Are you saying you have a boyfriend but never
bothered to tell me until now?”
Mingyu frantically dug through the dryer. “Was that important information I should've mentioned?”
Wonwoo had his hands up in frustration as he said, “What the hell? If you told me you had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t
have licked fucking whipped cream off your nose! I feel like I helped you cheat on Donghyun or something!”
“Wasn’t it a friendly lick?” With his head practically inside the dryer, Mingyu tried looking up at Wonwoo but hit
the back of his head against the metal instead. “Ow– fuck, okay, that hurt.”
Wonwoo laughed humorlessly. “Friendly? Mingyu, stop looking for your pants and listen to me for at least five
minutes! You can’t just ditch me like this.”
Mingyu pivoted to look at Wonwoo, maybe for just a couple seconds, before he started looking for his pants again.
“Don’t call it ditching, because that sounds really selfish. I made these reservations weeks ago, so if anything, I’d
be ditching Donghyun if I didn’t go.” He pulled out a pair of black slacks and smiled euphorically, shaking the
pants in front of him. “Yes! Found them!”
“But what about hiking and cupcakes?”
Wonwoo’s disappointment went unnoticed as Mingyu hooked his arm around him in a quick hug. “Next time,
okay? I owe you double now.”
“You can’t keep owing me things–”
“I’m running late” – He kissed Wonwoo’s temple then headed out the kitchen – ”I’ll see you some other time?”
“You can’t keep kissing me out of nowhere, Mingyu. You have a boyfriend now.”
“They’re friendly kisses!”
Then the door squeaked open and slammed shut, and Wonwoo was left alone with flour in his hair and whipped
cream on his chin. As his heart chipped, he stared at the door before taking in his surroundings. He was in a kitchen
that didn’t belong to him, and it was a mess. He had to clean it himself.
Quietly, Wonwoo sealed the bag of flour with a clip and put it where it belonged, along with everything else that
needed to be put away. He washed his hands thoroughly, pumping green apple foam soap in his palm, rinsing, then
repeating until he felt clean. Post cleaning himself, he did the same to the bowls and spoons and whisk.
You can’t cry in a place that’s not yours; that’d be rude. You can’t complain either, because that’s even ruder.
Everything Wonwoo wanted to do was rude and unmannerly, and he had to hold off all he felt to remain neutral on
the outside. He bit the inside of his cheek, gulped and held his breath.
As he grabbed a broom from the storage closet adjacent to the pantry, he felt the presence of another person in the
room. With the broom in hand, he turned. Denim button up, long lashes, dark hair–
“Oh, Seungcheol-hyung.”
Seungcheol examined the room, and then met with Wonwoo’s gaze. “Where’s Mingyu?”
“He, uh” – Wonwoo started to sweep, distracting himself from the conversation – “left for dinner. With
Donghyun.”
“Then why’re you still here? What’s with the mess?”
“We were supposed to be baking, but he had to leave and… yeah.”
Wonwoo didn’t acknowledge the hardness in Seungcheol’s eyes. All he did was sweep flour into one big pile in
front of the stove; sweep, sweep, sweep–
“Wonwoo, stop.” Seungcheol’s hand was gripping tightly to the broomstick, halting the task at hand. Wonwoo
finally looked at Seungcheol. His eyes were earnest and guilty all at once. “I’ll clean.”
“You didn’t make the mess.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Hyung, I’m serious. I can clean it myself, it’s fine.”
No matter how much Wonwoo tried, though, Seungcheol insisted on doing the work for him. The kitchen would
remain a mess if no one cleaned it sooner or later, Wonwoo knew that, and he also knew that Seungcheol wasn’t
going to quit. So Wonwoo gave up, handed over the broom, then left the house.
While walking down the sidewalk home, Wonwoo was able to think. Why didn’t he know about Donghyun and
Mingyu’s relationship? It could’ve been expected, sure, but that was no excuse for Mingyu to not tell Wonwoo
about it. Embarrassingly, it made Wonwoo feel betrayed. Weren’t best friends supposed to tell each other
everything? Had they really lost part of their bond over time?
Wonwoo didn’t know how his questions could be answered. He didn’t think Mingyu would be able to answer
either.
When Wonwoo made a turn, he found Chan kicking and knocking over garbage bins while screaming out
profanities. Wonwoo ran to his cousin and held him back, getting nudged in the face in the process.
"Hey- hey! Why aren't you at dance? Dino, what the hell are you doing?!"

“Is it not obvious?" He started kicking again; but his kicking turned into flailing as Wonwoo lifted him up. "I'm angry
and kicking garbage!"
"But why- Ow, hey! Stop, you’re kicking my ankles!" Chan didn’t listen and continued to squirm in Wonwoo’s grip.
"Can you calm down?”
“No!”
“For fuck’s sake, why not?”
“Because!”
“Because what? God, what did I tell you about getting angry?" Wonwoo dropped his cousin and turned him around
so they could be face to face. "When we were kids, I always told you-"
“I know what you said!" Chan snapped back. He immediately regretted it after seeing the surprise in his Wonwoo's
face, guilt replacing his anger. His voice softened. "But I'm so mad at Mingyu, hyung. So" - He punched Wonwoo's
chest - "fucking mad."

"What, why? What’d he do to you?"

"He's been treating you like you guys have nothing! I know you like him, and-"

"Wait, what? Where did you get this from?"

"Everyone knows; your mom, Minsuh, Jun-hyung - everyone. But Mingyu can't seem to take a hint! He's so blind
and it irritates me, and he won’t give you the day to confess! He treats you like shit, Wonwoo-hyung!”
Wonwoo blinked a couple times to wrap his head around the conversation. “Dino, our business shouldn’t concern
you.”
“But” – Chan’s gaze hardened, shoulders stiffening beneath Wonwoo’s fingertips – “it should be when he’s leaving
you for some stuck up jerk. You guys should be baking right now, not–”
Chan cut himself off because shit, he just exposed himself and basically admitted to spying on his cousin. He tried
to ignore the look on Wonwoo’s face, the look of surprise mixed with anger, by looking away. Maybe he shouldn’t
have done what he did, but what else could he have done? He was curious; he thought one of them would confess
that day.
“Chan–”
“Don’t call me anything but Dino.”
“–I really don’t appreciate knowing that you’ve been following Mingyu and I today. Our business has nothing to do
with you, so stay out of it.”
“Hyung, do you even notice how different things are now?” He looked up again, irritated and in disbelief. “You
don’t talk! No matter how physically close you two get, there’s still a gap that’s so hard to fill! And I’m so
frustrated right now because I want the best for both of you, yet you somehow can’t find a way to bring things back
to how they used to be.”
It’s not that easy. “Dino–”
“Why do you even let this happen?” Chan shoved Wonwoo’s hands off of him. “I hate seeing you suffer because of
him!"
Wonwoo was quiet for a while. Chan was right. It would’ve been easier to brush off what he had with Mingyu and
move on. A lot of this could've been easy, really, but not easy enough for Wonwoo to let go. He was too caught up
in the past, and he refused to move forward. He wanted to wait for Mingyu. If the consequence of waiting meant
suffering, Wonwoo was willing to try.
"I... it's complicated, okay? You need to understand that not everything in life is about happiness and sunshine. I’m
fine, don't I look like I am?"
 Seconds passed, time was ticking, and Chan used that time to look at his cousin directly in the eye. He searched for
something beyond the surface of Wonwoo's fake skin, hoping to find sincerity and trust in his words. But Chan
found nothing. All he saw was a fragile person buried in his own sadness; someone who lost so little, yet too much.
Pained to see through Wonwoo’s attempted lies, Chan shook his head and said, “You don't, hyung.”

22
October 6th, 2015
“I have a date tonight.”
Everyone at the table – Jisoo and Jihoon – sat with their mouths hung open, orange chicken falling off of Jisoo’s
fork and Jihoon’s clam chowder pouring out of his mouth. Behind them was Soonyoung, who froze in the midst of
sitting down and dropped his soda. Wonwoo pretended to not notice their surprise and continued eating his sushi.
Wonwoo had been acting weird lately, yes, but hearing him say he was actually putting himself out there for dating
hit each of his friends like bricks. After months of rejecting both boys and girls, and refusing to attend the blind
dates Jihoon always set him up for, he was finally going to do something completely different. He looked fine on
the outside; maybe a little too fine.
“Is this a prank?” Jihoon glanced around frantically for hidden cameras. “Are we being punk’d?”
“No,” Wonwoo replied simply.
Jisoo squinted as he leaned over the table, taking advantage of how he was sitting adjacent to his friend.
“Something’s up,” he said, “and my Jisoo-senses don’t like it. Spill, kiddo.”
“There isn’t much to say,” Wonwoo responded, ignoring the way Soonyoung flusteredly bowed at the university
cafeteria worker who had to mop up his mess. “I went to that bowling place we usually go to and finally decided to
talk to that waiter Jeonghan. He was pretty cool, so I asked him out on a date. It was simple… like popping a
pimple.”
“Popping pimples aren't simple,” Jihoon argued.
Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “It rhymed.”
“It’s still not simple.”
“Guys” – Jisoo pressed his finger to his lips, looking at Jihoon to shut him up – “stop it. I need to know everything
that went down.”
So, with Soonyoung finally sitting on his chair, still flustered and embarrassed, Wonwoo explained everything: He
found out about Jeonghan’s work days and that he was usually the first person to arrive. Keeping that in mind,
Wonwoo waited for Jeonghan at the front door an hour early, just in case, with nothing but a fake bouquet of
flowers to flatter him. Jeonghan arrived twenty minutes in, smiling when his eyes caught Wonwoo’s.
He asked, “What’re you doing here,” and Wonwoo smiled, deciding to be straight to the point. He asked Jeonghan
on a date to a Thai restaurant that Tuesday. Obviously, Jeonghan accepted the flowers and said yes.
Wonwoo told that short, plain story to his friends without any care in his tone. He didn’t seem to care about the
date at all and treated it like it was nothing. It was weird, not because of the lack of emotion Wonwoo displayed,
but because he’d never been the type to treat his love life like it was nothing. He changed.
Soonyoung listened intently, staring at Wonwoo the same way he did whenever he watched kdramas with Jisoo on
the weekends. Jihoon, however, furrowed his eyebrows and squinted, trying to see past the careless facade he was
so unused to experiencing. He could see it; the actual Wonwoo.
“Did you just ask Jeonghan out,” Jihoon said, “because you thought it was time for change?”
Wonwoo bit his lip, eyes casted downwards, as he nodded. “I think this could benefit in forgetting about my
feelings for Mingyu.”
Jisoo frowned. “Wonwoo–”
“I… don’t need sympathy. It’s okay. I think this date could change the way I feel about Mingyu.”
“A rebound,” Soonyoung said.
Wonwoo nodded. “Kind of.”
“Don’t you feel bad?”
“Yes?” Wonwoo shook his head. “I don’t even know. Rebounds are the worst things ever, but I can’t stop thinking
about Mingyu. It’s been months and I still can’t get over it. He posts pictures of them on Instagram and Twitter,
and they’re being really cute and I kind of wish I was in Donghyun’s place, and” – He took a deep breath – “it
hurts.”
He could see the sympathy in Jihoon, Jisoo and Soonyoung’s eyes, and it made him realize how miserable he really
was. It was pathetic. He shouldn’t have let his emotions get run over by Mingyu’s relationship, but he didn’t know
what else he could’ve done.
Soonyoung leaned aside to hug Wonwoo’s arm, whining, “Duuude, don’t be so sad. It makes us sad.”
Wonwoo patted Soonyoung’s head. “There, there,” he murmured, “cheer up, little bean sprout.”
“So,” Jisoo said, picking up his fork, “um, have fun with Jeonghan, I guess. I don’t know what to say, really. It
feels so weird knowing that you’re going on a date with someone we barely even know.”
“I’ll be okay,” Wonwoo promised. He looked over at Jihoon, who sat quietly in his seat and looked elsewhere.
“What about you?” Wonwoo asked him, catching his attention with a short hum. “Why aren’t you saying
anything?”
Jihoon’s mouth was agape as he tried finding the right words. Truth was, although he’d been trying to get Wonwoo
into dating other people, he only did it to make his friend happy. Wonwoo wasn’t happy, though. He was dating to
forget; not for happiness.
“Nothing,” Jihoon answered, faking a smile, “I– yeah. Nothing.”
Frankly, that was all Jihoon had been replying with for the past few months: Nothing.

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Lunch with the guys went by quickly, and soon enough Wonwoo found himself staring through the glass windows
of freezers at the market. He had to stop by to pick up a box of frozen chicken nuggets for Jihoon, because he owed
him for taking his last piece the other day (“It was one piece!” Wonwoo argued. Jihoon still demanded for a whole
box before the end of that week).
He didn’t know whether Jihoon wanted dinosaur nuggets or standard ones. Everyone loved dinosaur nuggets, but
Jihoon wasn't just some person who was like the others. It was hard to understand his likes and dislikes. What
Wonwoo did understand was that Jihoon loved chicken nuggets, so buying either one wouldn’t matter. He got the
dinosaur ones.
In the midst of taking a box, someone called his name.
“Wonwoo?”
He turned around, eyes landing on someone he was supposed to meet up with later that day. “Oh,” he said as he
closed the freezer door, “Jeonghan, hey.”
“Hi.” Jeonghan smiled. “What brings you here?”
Still in shock, Wonwoo stared at Jeonghan for a couple of seconds before holding up the box of chicken nuggets.
“I, uh– my roommate threatened to choke me if I didn’t get him chicken nuggets, so here I am.”
Jeonghan laughed lightly. “Jihoon, right? He’s your roommate?”
“Y-yeah.” Wonwoo cringed at himself, waving his hand and closing his eyes. “Sorry for being awkward; I just
didn't expect to see you until later.”
“It’s fine. I guess you don’t handle surprises very well?”
Wonwoo shook his head and crinkled his nose. “Not really. I don’t like it when things happen out of nowhere.”
“When was the last time you were surprised?” Jeonghan asked.
Answering that question wasn’t something Wonwoo was comfortable talking about – not in public at least –
because he’d have to bring up Mingyu and his relationship. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about.
“Um” – Wonwoo slowly started to walk backwards, towards the registers – “how ‘bout I tell you over dinner
tonight? Or now.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Wonwoo winked. “It gives me more time to get to know you.”
“Well, uh” – Jeonghan looked around, laughed, then shook his head – “why not.”
They paid for their items together; exchanging how are you’s and anything new’s on their way out the market.
Since Jeonghan walked to there, Wonwoo offered to give him a ride home to drop off the groceries. There wasn’t
much talking involved in the car, but there was music. Music always broke the awkwardness.
Arriving at Jeonghan’s place, Wonwoo helped him bring the stuff to his apartment and put things away. While
putting the coconut ice cream in the fridge, Wonwoo remembered Jihoon’s chicken nuggets.
“Is it okay if I leave Jihoon’s nuggets here for now?” he asked Jeonghan. “I’ll pick it up on our way back.”
Jeonghan nodded. “Go ahead. There’s plenty of room in there.”
Wonwoo and Jeonghan were quick to put things away and head out shortly after. They drove to the park across the
Thai restaurant, aimlessly wandering around with their hands in their pockets and shoes patting the concrete. Small
talk lead to broader talks, each topic connecting to the other. Laughing, smiling and genuinely enjoying himself –
Wonwoo had almost forgotten about Mingyu completely. Almost.
“By the way, you didn't answer my question,” Jeonghan brought up, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie,
“about what recently surprised you.”
Wonwoo’s heart dropped, but he covered the evidence of it doing so by taking a deep breath and grinning
charmingly. “Ah, right. That.” There was a short ledge made of cement – no taller than a foot and a half – and
Wonwoo hopped on it, arms spread out to keep him balanced. “Well, I found out my best friend got a boyfriend a
few months ago and he never told me. I found out the hard way.”
“Sounds tough.”
“Yeah. We were baking and he ditched me because he had a date,” he explained, “and, like, he actually left me in
his own kitchen so I could clean up the mess myself while he was out eating lobster or something.”
Jeonghan looked offended. “You shockingly have really bad taste in best friends. Best friends don’t do that.”
“I know.”
“I feel bad for asking.”
“Don’t be.” Wonwoo kicked a rock off the ledge, watching it launch a yard away. “You didn’t know.”
Jeonghan looked up at Wonwoo. He used his time to admire him – the way he looked – and slowly took in his
features from the forehead, down. The closer he got to Wonwoo’s lips, however, he realized how sad he was. It
could've been the date, it could've been the talk about Mingyu, but whatever it was, Jeonghan knew Wonwoo didn't
deserve it. Wonwoo knew it, too.
“Telling from the way you're acting…” Jeonghan stared at Wonwoo a while longer. “Were you in love with your
friend?”
Wonwoo stopped walking and set his arms back at his sides. He looked at Jeonghan. “I– it’s, uh” – Wonwoo
smiled, like he was supposed to be polite about it, nodding – “yeah. I still am, actually.”
“That doesn't sound healthy.”
“It really isn't, but it’s harder to fall out of love than fall in love. Unfortunately.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kim Mingyu.” The ledge came to an end, and Wonwoo hopped off, spinning as he landed so that he was facing
Jeonghan once he was back on his feet. He held his hand out and smiled. “Wanna hold hands so I don’t have to
think about it?”
Jeonghan knew he was being a rebound, but he made it his goal to be the best rebound he could be, because it’d
make Wonwoo at least a little happier. So he responded, with his signature boxy smile, “We’re going fast. I like it,”
then intertwined their hands together.

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Wonwoo and Jeonghan ate Thai food at around five. From the moment they’d arrived till it was time to leave, they
spent their time talking and joking around over spicy pad Thai and mango desserts. Surprisingly, they spoke
comfortably with each other, as if they’d been friends for the longest time. Their talks wandered so much, neither of
them could remember what it was they were actually discussing.
They left the restaurant hand-in-hand, more so pinkies hooked around the others (Jeonghan’s hands were clammy,
according to him, so he refused to hold hands). The ride back home consisted of singing along to Lionel Richie and
a few rounds of Never-Have-I-Ever. Like this, Wonwoo felt comfortable.
Once they’d arrived at Jeonghan’s place, Wonwoo stopped the car and unlocked the doors. “Well” – Wonwoo
rested back against his seat – “here we are.”
“Here we are.” They stared at each other, smiling and without much thought. The tension was heavily awkward,
because why wasn’t Wonwoo parked? And why was Jeonghan still in the car? “Um, aren’t you going to come
inside? You left Jihoon’s chicken nuggets in the fridge.”
Wonwoo blinked. “Oh, right. I’ll park then, just–”
He held his hand up to stop Jeonghan from going anywhere, although it wasn’t like he really planned on stepping
out anyway. After his car was parked and the ignition was turned off, they walked out together. There wasn't any
talking, but there definitely was some odd tension instead; something present between awkward and abruptly
sexual at the same time. Wonwoo didn’t know how to deal with it.
Jeonghan unlocked his door and walked inside, reminding Wonwoo to remove his shoes before stepping on the
cheap carpet. For some reason, though, Wonwoo had forgotten about the nuggets and instead asked, “So… would it
be okay for me to ask for a tour around your place?”
Telling from the look on Jeonghan’s face, he knew what Wonwoo was hinting. Thankfully, he brushed it off and
said, “Sure.”
The tour was short, but that was expected since the apartment was so small. His bathroom wasn’t much of a scene
to admire over, the hallway was dark, the dining room only had a table that fitted four people max, and the living
room was quite plain. The last room “shockingly” was Jeonghan’s bedroom.
They stood at the doorway, quiet and still awkward, as Wonwoo took in the walls and furniture. Just like the rest of
the house, there wasn’t much to it. There was a bed, a dresser and a desk with no chair – that was it. The only thing
that really stood out was the poster of a world map over his headboard
Okay, Wonwoo thought, there isn’t a lot, which means it’s unlikely of me to break anything if I choose to kiss him
right now– Wait, what the hell am I thinking; this is only our first date. I can’t just invade his personal space like
that, it seems wrong. Then again, he’s really attractive and looks like he catches my drift. But, wait; won’t I come
off as a complete asshole if I do it? Am I a creep for thinking like this?
After arguing against his thoughts, Wonwoo uttered, “Fuck it,” and grabbed Jeonghan by the hips, pushing him
against the wall. He kissed him on the lips, open-mouthed and desperate, and snuck his hands beneath his shirt to
feel Jeonghan’s torso pressed against his fingertips.
Jeonghan had warm skin, that much Wonwoo expected. It was soft; almost cuddle worthy and relative to a baby’s
bottom. What he didn’t expect, however, were the slabs of hard-ass muscle lining his stomach. Wonwoo pulled
away quickly, interrupting the kiss, to fully take off Jeonghan’s shirt and have a good look at his abs. What the
actual fuck.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, eyes wide, “you have abs?”
Jeonghan laughed, and it sounded thick and undoubtedly hot. “I’m somehow offended that you seem so shocked.”
“I just– Oh, my God, you could've warned me?”
He laughed again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be sticking your tongue down my throat on the first date!”
“That–” Wonwoo cut himself off, realizing that Jeonghan had a point. He didn’t think that’d happen either. “Wait,
is that okay? Am I allowed to do” – He made awkward hand gestures to help clarify what he meant – “this?”
Jeonghan was still smiling – Wonwoo didn’t understand why the fuck he was, but it was slowly killing him – as he
shook his head, the silver of his hair brushing against his collarbones. He placed his hands on Wonwoo’s waist,
closely mimicking what Wonwoo had done earlier, and went straight for his lips.
“You’re hopelessly awkward,” Jeonghan uttered between kisses, beginning to trail down to Wonwoo’s jawline,
“but to answer your question: Yes. It’s totally okay.” He licked, nibbled and sucked the pale skin. “It is so okay.”
That went on for longer than any of them had expected, the kissing and biting and teasing touches, until Jeonghan
started to grind his hips against Wonwoo's and drove him insane. Wonwoo cursed, leading them to Jeonghan’s bed
and staring over him with eyes full of lust. There was this smirk on Jeonghan’s face that taunted him, like it was
saying, “Try me,” and it was almost unbearable. Wonwoo cursed again and met with Jeonghan’s lips, biting the
wet pink glazing over the bottom skin.
“You know this’ll be the first and last time we do this, right?” Wonwoo panted between kisses, grinding down as
he trailed his lips to Jeonghan’s neck, teeth softly grazing Jeonghan’s skin.
Biting his lip, Jeonghan grunted as he said, “I’m aware- Fuck.”
“Great.” Wonwoo pulled away to strip off his shirt, then dipped back down to kiss Jeonghan again. “Then let’s
make this worthwhile.”
Needless to say, Wonwoo and Jeonghan did it that night – “the nasty,” as Junhui would say. It was a great
experience for both of them, and they could finally shout, “I had the greatest sex of my life!” without having to
come up with stories at college parties about fake one night stands that never actually happened. There was a
mutual agreement to make it a one time thing, that they’d probably be just friends the next morning if not strangers.
They remained against Jeonghan’s sheets, hot and heavy breaths taking over the silence of the house. They lay
there with sweaty skin, naked bodies and tousled hair. Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, Wonwoo
noticed that it was somewhere around seven o’clock PM. They were supposed to be eating Thai food by now, if he
hadn't changed their plans.
“I did not expect that,” Jeonghan admitted, slamming a square pillow over his face. “Seriously. I was going to
make you wait like three weeks before allowing you to stick anything in me.”
Wonwoo laughed loudly, eyelids squeezed shut and mouth wide open, and the sound vibrated the walls of
Jeonghan’s room. His laugh caused Jeonghan to laugh, too, and thus they filled the room with happiness together.
From this experience, Wonwoo quickly learned that there was always this misconception about one-time things and
rebounds. On one hand, it could be emotionally unhealthy; on the other, things could work out. And maybe not
everything will be fixed – not completely, at least – but an effort to rebuilding yourself has been put, and that’s
what makes it okay. It just depends on whether or not you handle it the right way.
Despite feeling tired, Wonwoo and Jeonghan stayed up casually talking about themselves, people they loved and
people they hated – although neither of them had anyone they actually felt that way towards. Jeonghan told
Wonwoo about his ex and how they broke up. In summary, his time with the guy was memorable but the break up
was messed up in every way possible
“So you found him kissing his cousin… in your room…”
Jeonghan nodded, cringing a little. “Disturbingly, yes.”
“What the–” Wonwoo made a loud sound of disgust, shuddering. “That’s so fucking nasty, I’d be scarred for life.”
“Okay, okay, enough about me.” He flipped to his side to face Wonwoo. “How ‘bout your love life? Tell me why
you love Kim Mingyu so much.”
So Wonwoo told him the story from beginning till present, grinning as he reminisced over their days as childhood
friends. Jeonghan listened intently, making sure to understand all of it. In the process of listening and telling the
story, Jeonghan fell in love with their memories, while Wonwoo fell even harder. The talking lasted way over an
hour, but neither of them minded.
Once the story ended, Jeonghan received a call from his boss, requesting for his presence at the bar to fill in the job
of someone who called in sick on their busiest night. Right away, he excused himself, showered, then returned to
the room to change in his uniform.
“I don’t want to ditch you like Mingyu did,” he said, pulling up his pants, “but I really have to go; you know, extra
pay. I trust you, so please don’t try stealing money from my piggy bank or anything.”
Wonwoo smirked. “I won’t. Promise.”
“Great. Also” – Jeonghan slipped his leather belt through the loops of his pants and buckled it – “I think you should
call Kim Mingyu and let him know that you’re okay. He may have been an asshole last time you guys met, but I
can promise that he thinks about you daily.”
“What are you,” Wonwoo laughed, propping his arm behind his head, “some sort of sex counselor?”
Jeonghan grinned as he threw his shirt on and tugged it down. “I guess you could say that,” he joked, “but really.
You should call and talk to him.”
The idea was put into consideration. It’d been too long since he and Mingyu had a long-lasting conversation – the
ones in which their calls would start with outrageous stories and end in soft snores; consist of laughs and lack in
confessions that should’ve been voiced long ago – and maybe it was because Wonwoo still couldn’t find it in him
to say anything after being ditched last time they’d seen each other. There was a lot to say, a lot of stories to tell,
but whenever the thought appeared, all Wonwoo could ask was why. Why this, why that – why did everything
change so suddenly.
“I’ll” – Wonwoo paused his breathing for a moment, then smiled – “I will eventually.”
 Securing his hair in a ponytail, Jeonghan said, “I hope eventually means today.” He opened the bedroom door and
looked over his shoulder, eyes meeting Wonwoo’s. “Take anything from the kitchen if you’re hungry. On your way
out, lock the front door with the spare key under the welcome mat.”
“That’s one of the worst places to put a spare key.”
“I was out of options,” Jeonghan laughed. “Later, Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo lifted his hand in a curt wave. “Bye, Jeonghan.”
Once Wonwoo heard Jeonghan close and lock the front door, he sat up. Out of all the things that could’ve
happened after this, he didn’t expect to be left alone at an apartment that he was barely familiar with. It seemed like
it would always happen from then on, being left alone in places that weren't his.
It was never like this in the movies, where the person you just had sex with gives you advice on what to do with
your shitty love life, and then leaves shortly after for work. Then again, nothing was ever like the movies, although
sometimes they should be, because movies had always been dreams made reality, or at least half a reality. You
have to find your own happy ending in real life; in the movies, happy endings just happen.
The cool air that came from the AC pressed against Wonwoo’s back, making him shiver as it made contact with the
sweat on his skin. “This is gross,” he murmured to himself. So he went to Jeonghan’s bathroom, showered and
changed.
Before leaving the house, Wonwoo decided to take one of Jeonghan’s cups of spicy ramen and heat some water to
make it. He prepared the small, not-so-healthy meal while sitting atop of Jeonghan’s kitchen counter, noodles
across from his crossed legs. As he waited for the noodles to soak up the water, chopsticks keeping the lid closed in
the meantime, Wonwoo glanced over at his phone.
Maybe one call wouldn't hurt.
He grabbed the device, pulled up Mingyu from his contact list, then waited. His thumb hovered over the “call”
icon, hesitation holding him back. It’d been too long since they’d talked. Wonwoo didn't know what to expect out
of this conversation.
Eventually, he made the final decision to call. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Five rings in, and all
Wonwoo got was, “Hey, this is Mingyu. I’m busy right now, so please leave a message after the beep!”
Beep.

23
In middle school, Mingyu’s teacher taught the class that both depression and love – two completely different things
– were inevitable in every person’s life. From her, Mingyu learned that feelings like those were especially strong,
hard to decipher, yet you’d have to decide yourself whether or not you’re any of the two. She didn’t go in too much
detail about it, although Mingyu thought she should have, because how would you know if you’re depressed or in
love?
If you’ve never experienced depression or love in another person, Mingyu thought that your decision of whether or
not you feel that way would be invalid. He was told that there was a fine line between just really liking someone
and being in love with them; feeling really sad and being depressed. He couldn’t tell the difference. The only way
he thought he would truly know what depression and love were was by watching it happen to people he knew;
people he didn’t.
Never had he been depressed. Seungcheol was depressed at one point, due to the death of one of his college friends.
For weeks Seungcheol didn’t leave the house, and for weeks he refused to eat. He remained in his room, on his bed,
mourning and rotting his days away. He wasn’t okay - or at least better - until it had been about a month since his
friend’s death.
Mingyu didn’t like to rot and mourn. He always tried to make the best of his days.
 Being in love was a different story. Every time he asked, people would respond with, “You just know.” What did it
mean to “just know”? In his eyes, love was always taken for granted. His parents, they said they were in love, but
his father left his mother eventually, with nothing but two kids and a house she could barely pay for. Seungcheol
said he was in love with Minsuh, but they were young and knew nothing of the word. His friends often said, “I love
you” to their boyfriends and girlfriends, then found themselves saying it to another person a few months later.
Mingyu knew what depression was, but he still didn't understand what being in love truly meant.

December 29th, 2015

Wonwoo was preparing spaghetti with Jihoon when Mingyu had called him, asking if he wanted to be his plus one
at his father’s golf tournament party. While stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce, Wonwoo paid no attention to his
phone as it rang. Jihoon, however, glanced over at it, his face hardening.
Jihoon answered the phone. “Screw off,” he said without greeting, getting the phone confiscated as quickly as he
said it.
“Yes, hi, sorry.” Wonwoo glared at Jihoon and handed him the wooden spoon so he could take over his job. He
walked to the living room. “My roommate was just– I don’t even know. Who is this?”
“This is Mingyu, also known as your bestest friend ever. Hi!”
Wonwoo felt his heart skip a beat. “H-hey, what’s up? It’s been awhile; you rarely ever answered my calls.”
“Yeah, I’m so sorry about that. I keep forgetting my phone at my mom’s place and I’ve been visiting my dad a lot
more lately. Plus, Donghyun doesn't let me use my phone when we’re on dates.”
“Oh, okay. It would’ve been nice if I knew before.” He bit his lip, hesitant. “I was starting to think that you were
just forgetting about me.”
There was static silence.
“I… know I haven’t exactly been the greatest friend lately, but I’m still trying to balance things between my
relationship, my parents and my friends. I’m still learning.”
“I understand.”
He could feel Mingyu grin over the phone. “And that is why you’re my favorite person. So, your roommate. Am I
being replaced?”
Wonwoo smiled, just a little. “At the moment, no.”
“Good” – Wonwoo heard a door close on Mingyu’s end of the line. He started to whisper, “because I don’t think
Donghyun would even be able to replace you either, kid.”
“Hyung.”
“Kid.”
“You know, I’m still waiting for the day you call me hyung.”
“Maybe someday.”
That conversation took place a week ago, and several days later Wonwoo was at some country club, dressed in his
old prom suit. Over the phone, Mingyu asked Wonwoo to be his plus one since Donghyun was already invited to
the event and his father wanted it to be a full house. Wonwoo wasn’t sure about it, but he accepted anyway.
It was an early Tuesday morning when Wonwoo arrived at the country club. The grass was wet, the sun was resting
between two neighboring mountains, and the lake was shimmering as the rippling water reflected the light.
Employees were rushing back and forth as they set up the tables and small stage; some of them racing past
Wonwoo as if he weren’t standing in their way. With so many people surrounding him, he found it impossible to
spot Mingyu anywhere; but, what a coincidence: Mingyu found him instead.
“Yo!”
Wonwoo flinched and felt his breath hitch, startled. There was a laugh, one too familiar to not recognize, as he
turned around to be face-to-face with the person behind him. To no surprise, it was Mingyu, who was dressed in a
pastel blue blazer and matching trousers. Even though the color was pretty, he looked ridiculous.
“Stop that!” Wonwoo punched Mingyu’s arm. “You know I get scared easily!”
Mingyu laughed as he rubbed the spot Wonwoo punched. “Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I didn't think you’d still get
scared like that.”
Sighing, Wonwoo rolled his eyes. Then he looked at Mingyu again – his outfit, mostly – and raised an eyebrow.
“Would it be rude of me to ask why you’re wearing that?”
“I–” Mingyu cut himself off as he peered down at his clothes. “Okay, let me just say that I didn’t choose this.
Donghyun’s suit is mint, so he wanted me to wear light blue.”
Wonwoo’s nose wrinkled in thought of their outfits standing out in the crowd. “But why those colors? It’s a special
event; I don’t think people wear–”
“Mingyu!”
Their heads turned to track the voice, eyes landing on Donghyun, who was wearing a gray suit. Not mint. Nothing
close to mint.
Wonwoo glanced up to look at Mingyu. He caught the slight drop of Mingyu’s lips upon noticing the suit color his
boyfriend wore. A bit ashamed and embarrassed, Mingyu’s eyes diverted to Wonwoo for a second, faking a smile
before bringing his attention to Donghyun again.
“Hey, um” – Mingyu gestured towards Wonwoo – “babe, you’ve met Wonwoo before, right?”
Donghyun smiled. Looking at it, all Wonwoo could think was, Fake. “Yeah,” he answered, “we’ve met once in
person, but it was awhile back.”
“Sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you,” Wonwoo lied, although he clearly remembered running into Donghyun at
the gas station. “When did we meet?”
“The highw– You know what, never mind.” Donghyun gave Mingyu’s outfit a onceover, his smile disappearing.
“What are you wearing?”
Mingyu said, “The blue suit that you told me to wear today.” He sounded like he was trying to hold back his anger.
“What happened to wearing mint?”
“I texted you this morning saying that I changed my mind.”
“You didn’t text me anything.”
“Yes, I did; go check.”
Mingyu looked back at his iMessage conversation with Donghyun. Nothing. “Look, you didn't say anything. I
could’ve been wearing the suit I wanted to wear by now.”
“Then you why'd you listen to me when I asked?”
“Asked? You told me to wear this! I was just trying to be a good boyfriend and make you happy!”
“Well, I don’t need you blaming me for your choices!”
With that, Donghyun walked away, leaving Mingyu in a frustrated mess. Wonwoo didn’t know how to react; the
argument was about something so small, it made him wonder if that’s how things always were between them.
“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked.
“Yeah. This happens a lot, so I’m used to it.” Mingyu grinned. “Don’t worry; he usually forgives me when I make
up for it.”
“Are you sure you're the one who needs to apologize and make up for it?”
“Of course. I yelled first.” He looked back again to find Donghyun. Once he did, he hugged Wonwoo quickly. “I’ll
see you when the party starts, ‘kay? I need to do the making up thing before it’s too late.”
He was still grinning as he pulled away and began jogging backwards, waving at Wonwoo with both hands.
Wonwoo waved back, his expression the same. Then, Mingyu’s back was facing him as he ran after Donghyun.
He watched them; Wonwoo watched them. He watched as Mingyu caught up to Donghyun and stood in front of
him, his hands gripping the latter’s shoulders to stop him from walking. He saw the way Mingyu’s lips repeated
“sorry” countless times, and he saw the way Donghyun rejected each one. He watched Mingyu say more than just
“sorry,” earning a few nods from his boyfriend. He especially saw how Mingyu held Donghyun’s cheeks in his
hands, scattered kisses around his face, then embraced him with strong arms.
Wonwoo wasn’t smiling anymore. Aside from wishing he were in Donghyun’s place, he also yearned to be loved
by someone the same way. He wanted to be kissed on the lips, forehead, cheeks – anywhere as long as he felt
loved; he wanted to have someone he could dance with at parties; he wanted to go on double dates with his friends
and not be the third wheel; he wanted to hear the words “I” and “love” and “you” together in an eight letter
sentence, in that order. He wanted all of this, but it was hard finding someone to do them with when the person he
wanted was standing right in front of him – with someone else.
He knew his wants and most of what needed to be known; he knew that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of
the cell; he knew that he had supportive parents; he knew he wanted to do something useful in the future; he knew
he should have enrolled in community college before transferring to university; and he knew that Minghao was
surely going to make a great parent someday.
Here’s something Wonwoo didn’t know, though – which way he fell faster: in love, or flaking in the process of
falling apart.

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Half an hour into the event, Wonwoo somehow found Junhui, Minghao and a little girl playing by the lake. He
approached them, saying hi and waving at the child they were with.
“Dude,” Junhui exclaimed, “I had no idea you were going to be here!”
Wonwoo smiled. “Same for you guys.” He crouched down so that he was leveled with the little girl, who was
holding Minghao’s sleeve. “Who’s this cutie?”
“This,” Minghao grunted, lifting her up in his arms, “is Cho Subin. Her dad’s one of the golf players here, and I
happen to be her babysitter.”
“Ah, I see.” Wonwoo waved at Subin again, successfully earning one back in return. He pointed at Junhui. “So
why’s hyung with you? I thought he was, like, allergic to children.”
Junhui slapped Wonwoo’s back, and Wonwoo hissed. “Hey, Subin likes me!”
“More or less,” Minghao added, looking at Subin, “but you like me more, right?”
Subin giggled, nodding. “I love you” – She spread her tiny arms out, showing off her missing front tooth – “this
much!”
“I love you, too,” Minghao chuckled. He tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “Do you want to feed the
ducks with me?”
“Yes, please!”
Minghao excused himself from the others to get a plate of pastries from the buffet tables. In the meantime, while he
and Subin walked off, Junhui watched them with tender eyes.
“Minghao’s super attached to Subin,” he explained. “From the day they met, he made her his number one priority.
He stopped caring about the pay three days after landing the job.”
“I always knew he’s make a great parent,” Wonwoo said.
Junhui chuckled. “No doubt.” He pointed at a bench a few steps away from them. “Let’s sit down so we can talk. I
think we might have a lot to catch up on.”
They sat together on the bolted bars of wood, the cold winter air pressing against their skin and the sun providing
very little warmth. Junhui was fist when it came to telling about their current lives; he was studying at a community
college and waiting until he could transfer to some place bigger. To make money and pay for the rent of his shared
apartment, Junhui worked as a part-time street dancer with Minghao and a part-time Coffee Bean barista. His life
was going great – stable relationship, good friends, and great time at school – and Wonwoo felt relieved to hear
about it.
Eventually it was Wonwoo’s turn. He told Junhui the good things first: His friends were extremely supportive in
the things he did, his grades weren't as bad as he thought they’d be, he’d just gotten a haircut, and he and Jihoon
had raised enough money to rent their own apartment just off campus. Following that news, Wonwoo knew he had
to break the bad stuff – the stuff he wished he didn't have to talk about. If Junhui weren’t so persistent, Wonwoo
would’ve been able to dodge that part easily. Alas, it wasn't possible.
He poured all of his thought and feelings about Mingyu to Junhui. There was no part of him that had missed any
detail, and Junhui made sure to catch every speck of what Wonwoo had said. The stories were almost painful for
Junhui to hear and Wonwoo to speak of.
“A lot’s changed then, huh?” Junhui asked.
Wonwoo nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Maybe a little too much and a little too fast.” When his
eyes peered up again, Subin was feeding Minghao part of the pastry she was holding. “I just want to look directly at
Mingyu in the eyes one day without feeling awkward, without feeling like I’ve crossed ten boundaries.”
Junhui nodded, understanding. “At least you still talk. It’s a sign that nothing’s completely over.”
Shrugging, Wonwoo said, “It just… feels like it’s all so close to ending. Really, we’d barely spoken to each other
before he invited me to this party.”
It was a quiet between them, but the hesitant and tense type of quiet that made people feel anxious.
“So when did it start, you and him not speaking to each other for so long?”
Wonwoo shrugged, his eyes still on Subin and Minghao. “I can’t remember. All I remember was feeling empty,
like loneliness was seeping in before I could notice how much things were changing between him and I.”
Junhui was reluctant with his next question. “And, the emptiness? Do you still feel it?”
Wonwoo didn’t want to answer that. Days became weeks, and weeks turned into months. In that span of time, the
company Mingyu provided waned, wherein loneliness and oblivion filled its void. Wonwoo was happy – his
college life provided more freedom and less isolation that year, and his time spent with Jisoo and the others made
him feel more comfortable to smile in public – but something was missing. So much of what Wonwoo lacked had
finally crawled into the empty gaps of his heart; however, there was a small part of him that made him reconsider if
he was truly happy or not. One thing he did know: He felt heavy, incomplete and vacant.
“Yeah,” he replied, “it’s still there.”

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The shopping district was always busy and full of people at night, especially around the areas where restaurants were
located.
Earlier he thought it was time for him to enjoy the city he grew up in – alone. No Mingyu. No family. No friends.
No boyfriend. Just himself, because it was easier for Wonwoo to appreciate things when no one else was there with
him.
As Wonwoo walked along the sidewalk, he took in his surroundings; the indoor lighting of shops and bistros were
golden, the string lights hanging above him looked like snowflakes trapped in time, and cars were beginning to line
up due to traffic. The people seemed almost uniformed, all of them dressed in coats of the same color scheme and
scarves that hid their necks. They talked with rosy cheeks and fogs of smoke escaping their mouths; chapped lips
and shivering bodies.
Wonwoo was dressed similarly to the rest of them. He wore a pair of light wash jeans, a thick scarf, and a navy
blue coat over his gray shirt. That night, he decided to take a break from contacts and wear his glasses. His hair
matched the sky, as well as his dark eyes and thin lashes. He blended in well with everyone around him.
Despite how Christmas had already passed a few days ago and New Years was arriving quickly, festive songs of
the holidays were playing on the ground-built speakers, varying from Michael Bublé to Mariah Carey. He hummed
along, smiling fondly as he passed couples that danced to the music and sang the lyrics together. The air was heavy
with romance and joy, but not to the extent of being suffocated in it. It was a lovely night to spend time with the
person you loved, really.
While in the heart of the district – where a fountain was built in the center between two parallel roads – there was
an abrupt buzz coming from Wonwoo’s coat pocket. He stopped, took out his phone and looked down at it.

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
I’m at the district with Donghyun rn! We’re eating at this cool Italian place. I think it’s going well :)

Another notification bar pushed the text down and took it’s spot.

To: Wonwoo
From: Mingyu
Thanks for coming to the party btw!! Ik it was a long drive home but I hope you’re safe!

After the party ended a couple of hours past noon, the last thing Wonwoo expected to receive was a text from Mingyu.
He smiled, feeling light knowing that Mingyu was starting to put more effort in communicating with him again. It
was relieving, because that was all he wanted that year: Knowing that his friendship with Mingyu was going to last
just a little longer.
But, realizing that he was smiling by himself in a public area, Wonwoo looked up to see if anyone was looking at
him. Craning his head to his right, he saw them; he saw Mingyu sitting at his table, putting his phone away as
Donghyun returned to his seat across from him. They were smiling at each other, and Wonwoo swore he saw all
the love glimmer in Mingyu’s irises. Mingyu propped his elbows over the table for Donghyun to hold, their fingers
lacing and fiddling with the other’s.
Wonwoo had never felt his heart drop so quickly in his life.
He had to admit: they were a lovely pair. Both men were handsome, and seeing them together made them the most
appealing couple at the shopping district. It didn't change the fact that seeing Mingyu laugh on the other side of the
window made Wonwoo feel heartbroken.
He used to be the only person who could make Mingyu laugh with so much effervescence and joy. Before high
school ended for Wonwoo, he was the one that knew what offended Mingyu and what didn't; what made him laugh
and what made him cry. Someone else was taking his place, though, and he desperately wished that wasn't the case.
But Mingyu looked happy, and that’s all Wonwoo could ever ask for.
“If being with him means being happy” – Wonwoo pressed the off button of his phone, watching his texts fade to
black before looking up. He spared a few tears, tucked his hands in the pockets of his coat, and focused his gaze on
the string lights decorating the street – “then I’m happy for you.”
As he turned his back on the couple, Mingyu smiled at Donghyun the same way he’d always smile at Wonwoo.
The love and affection, it was the same. There was barely any sign that made him look less in love than he claimed
to be. His feelings for Wonwoo, they had been forgotten. He loved Donghyun.
Wonwoo wiped away his tears, sniffed and began to walk, lost in thoughts that made him cry even more. The
pestering voices in his head said, Leave him, and, He’s happy without you, and he believed all of it. Something
inside him ached, as if pleading for him to hang on tighter, but he was already hooked to a cliff by just a finger, so
falling seemed easier than staying that way. He decided: he wanted to leave Mingyu and never turn back.

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“Uh, hey.”
“Hi, Seungcheol-hyung.”
“Mingyu isn’t home at the moment–”
“I know. I just wanted to drop something off. Is it okay if I leave a note in your kitchen?”
“Of course. Do whatever you want.”
“Thanks. Also, when Mingyu’s here, don't tell him I stopped by. Just make sure he sees the note.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Thank you.”

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An hour before midnight, Mingyu arrived home with Donghyun’s hand in his. Seungcheol was sitting on the sofa,
his eyes appearing dead and dull as they stared at the TV. The living room was dark and the only sources of light
were the television screen, the table lamp, and the reflection of Big Bang Theory in Seuncheol's eyes.
“Hyung?” Mingyu helped Donghyun out of his coat and threw it over a chair. “Hey, why’re you up so late? You
have class tomorrow.”
Seungcheol remained still. “I’m skipping.”
“What? No, you can’t just skip.” When Seungcheol refused to look at him, Mingyu sent Donghyun upstairs and sat
next to his brother. “Hey.” Seungcheol turned hesitantly, like looking at Mingyu was the same as looking at a
bigger, more intimidating person. Mingyu became alert when he saw the dry tears on Seungcheol’s face. “Hyung?
What’s wrong?”
Here’s what was wrong: He read the note. Seungcheol read the note. He translated it, read it until his eyes were
strained, then tied everything together. He read Wonwoo’s note to Mingyu, and that was what he did wrong.
Seungcheol’s eyes desperately searched Mingyu’s. Where was it? Where was that childish spark he used to have,
the one that everyone learned to fall for within a heartbeat? He looked as hard as he could, behind Mingyu’s facade
of faux happiness and within the dull glaze of gray. But he found nothing. There was only blankness, because just
like his old self, that spark was gone too. Wonwoo was right: Mingyu was a whole different person after all.
Seungcheol didn’t like it.
“Was it a mistake,” Seungcheol said hoarsely, hushed and weak, “to take you to dad’s place?”
Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed. “I- what? No, of course not. I wouldn't have met Donghyun if it weren't for you.”
Upon hearing Donghyun’s name, Seungcheol closed his eyes. Fresh tears fell over the dry ones as guilt took over,
because it was his fault. Everything was his fault. He ruined his brother, he ruined Wonwoo’s chances at being with
the person he loved, and he ruined everything. Seungcheol couldn't forgive himself, and he didn't think he ever
could.
“You’re crying–”
“I think” – Seungcheol held up his hand to pause Mingyu. He pointed a finger, clenched his fist, then got up – “it’s
time for me to go to bed.”
“But you’re crying.”
“And I’m not telling you why.”
“Hyung…”
Seungcheol used both hands to clean away his tears, sniffling. “Goodnight, Gyu.”
Then Seungcheol was gone, up the stairs and away from Mingyu.
After he heard Seungcheol’s door open and close, Mingyu sat for a while, anxious to know why Seungcheol asked
him that question. Why would it be a mistake to fix everything he had with his dad? That’s what everyone wanted,
for him and his father to be on good terms. But ever since he cleaned the scattered pieces of their relationship, he’d
gotten nothing but blank stares and short responses from the people he loved – even Wonwoo. Within the time span
of it all, the bold change in his life, he’d seen more tears than he ever did, and he began to wonder if he’d caused
them.
Mingyu was cold, but his encounter with Seungcheol made him feel further away from warmth. Sucking in a
painful, deep breath, Mingyu got up and headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for himself. He followed his
usual tea-making routine: Heat water, soak his bag of jasmine tea in a white mug, then add in some honey. While
stirring his mug to help dissolve the honey, however, a small piece of paper – no longer than the length of his palm
– caught his eye.
Mingyu peered down at the strip of paper, his eyes scrutinizing on the symbols that almost seemed like complete
gibberish. It took a few seconds for him to realize it was morse code, a form of language he knew only Wonwoo
would understand, and shivers briefly coursed through his heart in thought of his best friend writing him a note so
secretive.

Just when Mingyu pulled out his phone to translate the code, Donghyun yelled, “Mingyu-ah!” from upstairs. Startled,
Mingyu flinched and spilled hot tea on the paper, making the text hard to read. He sighed.
“So much for that,” he mumbled to himself. After Donghyun called for him a second time, he set down his mug,
threw the soaked paper in the trash, then scurried up the stairs. “Coming, babe!”
That wasn’t the plan; Wonwoo didn’t want the note to go unnoticed. It was supposed to bring forth a conversation
so they could finally talk about this, the complication and sudden change between them. He wanted to end the
confusion and awkwardness. He wanted to feel like their friendship wasn't ending. He wanted it to be Jeon
Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu again, just like before.
 But as Wonwoo waited for a response, Mingyu was tangled beneath the sheets of his bed, whispering, “I love you,”
to a person who felt half the same. Between lustful breaths and intimate touches, Mingyu had forgotten about the
note, and Wonwoo lost hope. Once again, their friendship came after Mingyu’s love life; once again, Wonwoo was
his second choice.
If only Mingyu knew the note said:

.-- .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. . -.. / - --- / ..- ... ..--..

(What happened to us?)

24
January 2nd, 2016
On Wonwoo’s last day of his visit back home, he treated his parents, aunts and uncles to a night out consisting of a
movie and dinner paid by him. They refused at first – of course they did; they couldn’t just accept a younger
person’s money so easily – but after much talking, he eventually convinced them to go anyway. In return, he and
Minsuh would take care of the other kids in the house with Chan.
“So you know where the keys are, right? Right. Also, there are leftovers in the fridge and extra money on the table
in case you decide to order pizza. The kids have to be in bed by nine at most, but Dino sleeps at eleven. Make sure
everyone has a glass of milk before bed and–”
“–brush their teeth; I get it.”
Wonwoo expected to hear his mother ramble about the do’s and don’t’s of the house, but he didn’t think she’d have
so much in mind. Her list, if on paper, would be long enough to wrap around their house twice. There was too
much to understand and follow, and too much to listen to. It was the fourth time she’d told him of what to do that
day, and frankly Wonwoo was getting sick of it.
She turned to him at the doorway, appearing more dressed up than ever. Wonwoo didn’t remember her owning
anything other than sweatpants and her usual work clothes, but looking at her dark jeans he guessed that she finally
made time for shopping while he was gone. Layered beneath her tan sweater was a white button up, and over all of
it was the black coat Wonwoo got for her birthday a year ago. Protecting her feet were a pair of ankle boots to
match her matte red lips. His mother looked stunning.
“All right, college boy,” she chuckled, grabbing her purse from the display table by the door, “I guess they’re your
responsibility now. Are you sure you can do this? You know that they can be a hassle…”
Wonwoo peered down at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, his eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “Wow, why
don’t you look at that: Your movie starts in thirty minutes. I heard it’s going to be a full house tonight,” he sing-
sang, hinting that it was time for her and the rest to leave.
Smiling, just as she always did (Mingyu said it was a Jeon thing, because his family was full of people who had
smiles that probably tasted like candy), she placed her hand on Wonwoo’s head and stroked the midpoint of his
hairline with her thumb. “Hey,” she said softly, forced to look up in order to meet her son’s eyes, “thank you for
this. It’s very thoughtful of you.”
“Best son in the world?” Wonwoo teased, chuckling as he gently moved her hand away from his scalp.
His mother nodded. “You're getting there, kid.” Then her husband, who wore a baby blue button down and khakis,
intertwined their hands together to usher her out the house. As they walked to the car, Wonwoo’s mother looked
over her shoulder to send one last wave to her son before leaving. “Stay safe!”
“We will!”
Moments later, the cars that belonged to Wonwoo’s aunts and uncles were stalking his parents’ Honda down the
road. By the time they were out of sight, he closed the front door, locked it then went to the living room to join his
cousins.
“Woonie-hyung,” one of them squealed, waddling over to him with her tiny feet and hugging his leg, “let’s play!”
“Play?” he grunted, lifting her up and holding her at his side. “Sure, we can play. How about some hide and seek
with everyone?”
It was a half-terrible idea. The house could barely fit the people inside and it was small enough to make “hide and
seek” sound more like “turn and– oh! there you are!” But part of the family was getting ready to move overseas for
his uncle’s new job, so the house was overflowing with boxes and scattered items, making it easy to hide as long as
the people playing remained quiet.
Since Wonwoo was the one who proposed the idea, the kids made him the seeker and turned him to face a corner.
While counting to fifty, there were mice-like sounds of giggles and shuffling feet as everyone else hid. He hollered,
“Forty-nine… fifty,” then whipped around to begin his search, already spotting a small pair of feet peeking from
underneath a box, “ready or not, here I come!”
Twenty minutes into the game, Wonwoo learned that kids were outstanding hiders and better at the game than
adults like him. He found kids in exotic places he never knew were possible to hide in, like beneath the cushions of
the couch (thank God he didn’t sit on them), the top shelf of the storage closet, within piles of overdue laundry and
inside guitar cases. It was a perk of being so young, because 1) you’re adorably small and 2) your imagination is
literally just a gigantic marble of bright paint. During times like this, he really wished he wasn’t nineteen but nine
instead.
Throughout the other games that were played, Wonwoo’s cousins took advantage of him and did whatever they
wanted – on him. They were kids, but they weren’t dumb; they knew he was leaving again for school the next
morning. That being said, the girls dressed him in tiaras and pink boas, while the boys used washable Crayola
markers to draw monster truck “tattoos” on his skin. There was no way he could get out of this because one of the
kids was hunched over his back and Minsuh was out getting her medication. Chan… well, he asked out some
brunette from dance class and was thus too busy texting her to help.
Wonwoo’s ears perked when he heard the front door unlock, and when he saw Minsuh entering the house, he felt
relief wash over him.
“I’m home!” she called out.
Everyone replied, “Welcome to the Jeon, Lee and Cho’s humble homey home!” – a family thing they started doing
ever since Wonwoo left for college.
Minsuh was shivering. She left her white paper bag of pill bottles on the counter and removed her faux leather
gloves, huffing hot breath into her hands. Her body seemed to scrunch into itself as she crouched down by
Wonwoo, who was still being attacked by at least four of his cousins.
“You look like the princess of a kingdom full of motorcycle gangs and thugs,” she laughed.
Wonwoo sent her a wavered, mocking smile that matched his subtle glare. “Wow, since when were you so funny?”
Minsuh smiled brightly, answering, “I’ve always been funny, little cousin of mine; you just never noticed.”
“Okay” – Wonwoo forced himself up into a monstrous, Godzilla-like pose as his tone transitioned to his spot-on
Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation – “it is time for me to clean up, my little children.”
The kids scrambled off, screaming and giggling to the living room.
“If I were still six right now, I’d be terrified of you,” Minsuh said. She sighed as she got up, looking straight at
Chan. He was – of course – grinning down at his phone and tapping his thumbs on the lower part of the screen.
“Dino,” she whistled, making him straighten his neck to look at her, “go play a movie for the kids.”
“But–”
“Big Hero 6 and Lion King are on the TV stand.”
“Wait, but–”
“I’m taking your phone if you don’t listen.”
Eyes wide, Chan stuffed his phone in his pocket and rushed to the living room, leaving Wonwoo and Minsuh alone.
Minsuh rolled her eyes when she turned to Wonwoo, and Wonwoo looked down at her with an impressed smirk.
“You got him to get off his phone for more than five seconds,” he praised, “good work.”
She winked and made a clicking sound with her teeth. “I’m a witch; I casted a spell on him and now all he does is
obey me.”
“Terrifying.”
“Indeed.”
Wonwoo asked about Minsuh’s pills after that, like what they were for and where she got them. Apparently she
was low on vitamin D, so the doctor prescribed her something to help it back up again. Because the pills were easy
to swallow, Minsuh didn’t mind taking them.
While she was explaining her run-in with one of her ex boyfriends at the pharmacy, Wonwoo’s phone buzzed on
the table. He and Minsuh drew their attention to it.

Caller ID: Unknown

“Prank call?” Minsuh questioned.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m ignoring it.”
They continued where they left off, but when it was around six, Wonwoo remembered that trash day was the next
morning and there were several bags of garbage in the house. While Minsuh was in the living room with the rest,
he collected all the bags and headed out to leave them in front of the house.
As he dropped the last bag, he received another call from an unknown number. He declined it without hesitation,
but was startled when he heard a voice say, “You know, they say it’s rude to ignore a person’s call like that.”
Wonwoo turned around and blinked in surprise. Somehow, with no knowledge of how he even got there, Wonwoo
found himself staring at Donghyun. He had his phone in his hand, a sly smirk playing his lips. Wonwoo shouldn't
have felt to nervous, but – hell, he was nervous.
“Uh, hi,” came his lame greeting, too surprised to think of anything decent.
Donghyun stood there for a moment, just smiling. It was scary looking at him, knowing that he was there without
Mingyu. Whatever reason he was there for, it must have been important.
“If you don't mind,” he said, “maybe we could take a walk? Get something warm to drink?” Wonwoo hesitated. “I
know a really good place that sells hot chocolate.”
Looking back at the house, he thought that maybe he could get some hot chocolate – no longer than an hour. So he
tucked his cold, balled fists in the pockets of his oversized hoodie and nodded.
Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to sit in Donghyun’s gazillion dollar car with black interior and leather seats and
tropical air fresheners, but Donghyun insisted. The ride was quiet and not even the radio was playing. It felt
awkward, to Wonwoo at least; Donghyun seemed just fine.
They arrived at a café near the city’s western bridge, which wasn’t too far from Wonwoo’s house. Despite the time,
there was still a handful of people inside, talking and laughing over hot beverages made by the college-age baristas.
The inside looked like any other café in town: rustic and earthy; nothing like the urban lifestyle of the city.
Wonwoo found a table for them right by the window as Donghyun ordered him a hot chocolate and a green tea latte
for himself. When he returned, he had a plate of lemon and raspberry pound cake.
“You look like the type to like this,” Donghyun said, pointing at the raspberry cake with a silver fork, “so I got it
for you. My treat.”
Wonwoo reluctantly accepted the fork that was being handed to him and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, thanks. You
didn’t have to, really.”
“It’s fine” – He grabbed the other fork and took a piece of his lemon cake – “money isn’t a problem for me.”
Wonwoo’s smile faltered, but he tried keeping it out of respect. “Oh. Right.”
“So what’s up?”
Wonwoo wanted to say, “This is weird as hell,” but it was rude so instead he said, “Nothing much, I guess. Happy
and healthy; that’s all that matters.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Someone served them their drinks, and they thanked the person as she walked off. “How ‘bout you?
Anything new?”
Donghyun hummed, licking away the crumbs sticking to his lips. “Well, I have a golf tournament next weekend.”
“Are you nervous?”
He shrugged. “Nah. A little. I don’t know – one of the people I’m competing against is this thirteen year-old
prodigy from Germany and apparently he’s some genius in, like, twelfth grade.”
Wonwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s… that’s impressive.”
“Yeah, but” – Donghyun smirked – “all I have to do is find his weaknesses, and then I could win the game easily.”
“What if he's hard to read?” asked Wonwoo. “It’s hard to find some people’s weaknesses, you know.”
“Trust me: I know what I’m doing.”
Wonwoo nodded, taking a rather big bite from his cake. “Good luck then. I hope you win and, word of advice:
They say that to find a person’s weakness, you’ve gotta know their strengths, too.”
Donghyun laughed, low voiced and a bit more to himself than to Wonwoo. “Yeah, you’re definitely how Mingyu
described you.”
Wonwoo stopped chewing. “And… how does he describe me?”
“Kind, inspirational” – He took a sip of his latte – “a bit more kept-to-yourself than you appear to be.”
“Oh,” Wonwoo replied, although he really didn’t know how to, “I see. I guess that’s nice then.”
Donghyun hummed in reply.
“Well, um. He talks about you, too.”
“Really?” Donghyun didn’t seem affected by Wonwoo’s words, no sign of surprise nor happiness evident in his
face; it was as if he expected Wonwoo to say that. He gulped down a third of his drink. “What does he say?”
Actually, Wonwoo doesn't actually know what Mingyu says or thinks about Donghyun. They’ve talked about him
– obviously – but there was never a day when Mingyu ever said, “I am absolutely in love with him and his ass,” or
anything as simple as, “I really like his nose.” Matter of fact, Wonwoo knew nothing about Donghyun because
Mingyu never said anything. It was like Donghyun wasn’t playing a big role in his life at all.
“I don’t know,” Wonwoo answered truthfully, but then came the lie, “he says too much to remember.”
Donghyun nodded. “I’m surprised. He doesn’t usually talk about anyone else but you, so I’m flattered.”
“He loves you,” Wonwoo said, smiling, “I know he does.”
“Ah, right. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Donghyun bobbed his head in recognition of remembering,
but it looked more sarcastic than genuine. “Yeah, no. You’re wrong on so many levels. Mingyu always says he
loves me,” Donghyun murmured, his thumb running across the rim of his cup, “but he doesn’t.”
With Donghyun’s eyes trained down, there was no simple way for Wonwoo to tell how he felt; not even the sound
of his voice could define his feelings. He didn't sound disappointed, nor sad, nor happy. It was almost as if even he
didn't know how to feel. Wonwoo wasn't sure of what to say.
“I think he knows that he doesn't love me, but he doesn't want to admit it.” Donghyun swallowed hard. “Now I
know how you feel.”
Taken aback, Wonwoo cautiously asked, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know you have feelings for Mingyu.”
“I never said anything about that.”
“But it’s true right?” Donghyun looked up, his eyes greeting Wonwoo’s gaze with envy coloring the rings around
his pupils. Wonwoo refused to respond. “You make it so obvious. You look at him like he’s all there is in your
eyes, and everything he does makes you smile. But you laugh instead of saying you love him, because you know
you can’t say it out loud. It’s sad.”
Wonwoo still wasn't sure how to react. “We don't even know each other, but you somehow think you can say all
this–”
“You’re not hard to read,” Donghyun explained, “you make it too easy. And the funny thing is: I think Mingyu
loves you back.”
“He doesn’t.”
“God, you're dumb,” he uttered. He spoke louder, saying, “He’s so full of regret and doubt, he starts telling me
about it without even noticing. He and I have never had a conversation in which he doesn't mention your name. He
tells me that being around you makes him feel overwhelmed with words and feelings that he can’t express. Your
presence hurts him.” There was a sarcastic, humorless laugh that shook the table. He looked down, but made sure
he got a glance of the guilt on Wonwoo’s face. His grin stretched. “You're like poison.”
Wonwoo grew more vulnerable as the café felt colder. If he had known this was where their conversation would
lead to, Wonwoo would’ve bailed and returned home. Instead, he accepted and was sitting with Donghyun, the guy
who was making him feel like he was causing a life’s worth of damage.
He never wanted to hurt Mingyu; there must’ve been a mistake.
“I don't do this on purpose,” Wonwoo tried to defend.
“But you’re also blindly selfish. So much of his childhood was devoted to you, but you didn't try hard enough when
he left you for me because you wanted him to do all the hard work; you wanted him to crawl back to you. Don’t
argue and say it isn't true, either; you know it is.” Wonwoo opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. “For
the past year, you’ve watched him live a life without you, and you know damn well that he’s been doing just fine.
He doesn't need you anymore, Wonwoo. You could only hold so many memories with a person before it all ends
right before your eyes. You might as well let go.”
Wonwoo didn't say anything, because Donghyun was right: Mingyu didn't need him anymore. He was Mingyu’s
past – Mingyu’s childhood – and his years of being a child were already gone. Mingyu was reaching the first stages
of being an entirely different person, and being a new person meant forgetting about some of his past. Wonwoo
was his past. Wonwoo was going to be forgotten.
“You’re right,” he admitted, “but I was already planning on leaving anyway.”
 ·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇

The meet up with Donghyun ended shortly after their talk. Itching to drive home quickly, he bid Wonwoo a careless
farewell before leaving him alone on the sidewalk. While watching his car pull out the curb and start down the road,
Wonwoo stood there with white lips and cold hands yearning for warmth in his pockets. He checked the time:
7:20 PM
He had to get home and let Minsuh know he was okay. He’d gotten eight missed called from her, along with a
couple more from Chan. His phone was dying though, running on very little battery. Since he was walking, he
needed to save as much of it as he could in case of emergency.
It felt like penetrating Jack Frost’s ass outside; the subtle breeze swayed his hair, his skin tightened from the
temperature and his nose was runny. He wasn’t wearing the right attire for such a cold winter’s night, because a
hoodie and jeans were definitely not going to keep him warm. Thankfully, he got his hot chocolate to go, which
saved him from crumbling into icy pieces on the pavement.
Nearing the western bridge, Wonwoo’s phone rang and his cup of hot chocolate was swerving towards emptiness.
He chugged down the last of his drink, and then tossed it in a nearby garbage can as he answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Wonw– Oh, God. Where are you?” Mingyu. “Are you okay? Minsuh called and said you went missing for the
past few hours, and no one knew where you were!”
“I’m okay, Mingyu. Really.”
“Where are you right now? I’m at the western bridge by that bakery we used to go to. Are you far?”
Wonwoo stopped walking. He had already reached the western bridge, and right in front of him was none other than
Kim Mingyu, who was anxiously pacing back and forth with his thumb held between his teeth. Looking at his tousled
hair, rising chest, disheveled clothes and knitted eyebrows, it wasn't hard to say that Mingyu was a worried mess on
the verge of tearing the city apart to find his best friend. Wonwoo smiled appreciatively, but his heart ached upon
thinking that it’d probably be his last time seeing Mingyu at all.
“Seriously, where are y–”
“Look to your left.”
Turning, Mingyu found Wonwoo slowly walking towards him, his winter lips pursed into a fine line and his phone
pressed to his ear. Relief extinguished the worry and anxiety burning his veins, and a sigh puffed out of his chest
and fogged the cold air. He ran to Wonwoo.
“Wonwoo!” As Wonwoo lifted his hand to wave, he was taken aback by the sudden embrace he was yanked into.
Mingyu was holding him with all the protection he could provide, and Wonwoo’s stomach churned with sickness.
“Oh, thank God! Everyone’s been all over the place looking for you.” He pulled away to hold Wonwoo’s cheeks in
his hands, his eyes frantically searching for any signs of physical harm. “You’re okay, right? You didn't get jumped
or anything?”
Wonwoo shook his head slowly, too overwhelmed by Mingyu’s reaction. “No, I’m fine. I was just walking around
with Donghyun; I didn’t get hurt.”
“Okay” – Mingyu hugged him again. For the first time, Wonwoo didn't hug back – “good. I was worried sick.”
Carefully, Wonwoo untangled himself from Mingyu’s hold and took a step back to create some distance. He smiled
at Mingyu before resting his arms on the railing of the bridge, adoring how the lights made the water glisten.
Mingyu copied after.
He was going to do it – he was going to leave Mingyu – but he figured that maybe it was okay to share one last
moment with him before saying goodbye. Undoubtedly, the western bridge was the most beautiful place for it to
happen; perhaps too pretty for declaring good riddance to the person Wonwoo cared so deeply about. Below the
bridge was a stream that led to who-knew-where, and it carried petals and leaves from bushes and trees along with
it. Over the stream were dead cherry blossom trees preparing for spring, decorated in string lights that laced around
their branches and trunks. There was a faint smell of chocolate and cinnamon coming from the late night bakery
nearby. Wonwoo loved it – so much that he almost forgot Mingyu was with him.
“You’re doing it again,” Mingyu said. When Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed in question, Mingyu explained, “You
know, that thing you always do when you see something pretty. Like, you have this look of appreciation and it
makes you look all soft.” He grinned. “It’s my favorite thing about you.”
Wonwoo nodded. “It’s nice to know that there's at least something to like.” He laughed, hoping that it distracted
Mingyu from the lack of actual, raw happiness that was present. “Lately, it’s been hard to find anything to truly like
about myself.”
“There’s a lot to like,” Mingyu said, “such as your smile… and the way your nose crinkles… and the sound of your
laugh… and this, how you always take time to appreciate things… and your dorkiness…” His tone drifted off
elsewhere, along with his gaze. “My point is: There’s a lot to like, whether you know it now or not.”
Shit, Wonwoo wanted to cry. The usual swirl-y, tangy feeling that often rested in the pit of his stomach was so
strong that he could actually feel touched tears ask to be let out. He gulped to hold it in, eyes still glued to the scene
ahead of him.
“How do you say goodbye to the person you love,” he murmured to himself, “without feeling like everything’s
ending all at once?”
And although it was directed to him and only him, Mingyu heard and answered, “Then you don't say goodbye – not
yet, at least. Why?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh!” Mingyu sprung up from his slouching position and whipped around so that he was facing Wonwoo, making
the latter flinch in surprise. He chuckled. “By the way, I got your note! It got ruined because I accidentally spilled
tea on it – sorry. Why morse code?”
“I wanted to make it as private as possible,” Wonwoo answered honestly. “I would've used binary, but morse code
seemed more reasonable because, you know. Communication.”
“What did it say?”
Wonwoo looked down at his hands, swallowing hard. “It’s not important anymore.”
“Laaame” – Mingyu teasingly shoved Wonwoo’s shoulder with his own – “it’s still gotta mean something if you
wanted to be so secret about it.”
“Maybe some other day?”
“Hmph.” Mingyu leered. “No fun Wonwoo strikes again.”
Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu’s effort in lightening their talk because he was 100% sure Mingyu could sense the
heartache. But his efforts weren't enough. There wasn't anything that could make Wonwoo feel better.
He looked at Mingyu, and all he could think was: I am so in love with you. Mingyu wasn’t smiling; he looked
neutral, like he was trying to appreciate the view the same way Wonwoo did. The lights made stars in his eyes,
eyelashes going from white to black as it reflected it. He was stunning, even in his everyday clothes, and Wonwoo
was still whipped.
“Mingyu-ah” – Wonwoo was standing still, his eyes on Mingyu’s as the latter’s were focused on the arc of tree
branches creating a canopy over the stream – “can you do me a favor?”
Mingyu turned so that his body was reflecting Wonwoo’s. Nodding, he replied, “Of course, I’ll do anything.”
“Can you look at me in the eye?”
It was an odd question. Nonetheless, Mingyu did so anyway, or at least he tried to.
Their eyes didn't meet. It looked like they did – Mingyu internally lied to himself saying that they made eye contact
– but whatever they were doing was anything but that. Mingyu wasn't looking at the dark brown of Wonwoo’s
irises; he focused on the shortness of his lashes instead. Still, after all the hardship had passed – meaning the kiss
and separation – Mingyu couldn’t find it in him to look at Wonwoo the same as he did years ago.
And that’s the thing: Mingyu used to look at Wonwoo with doe eyes full of affection and adoration, stared deep
enough to see whatever was beyond the surface. Just by looking at Wonwoo, Mingyu was able to wordlessly let
him know how much he loved him – that the world meant nothing without his presence. But after too long, Mingyu
couldn't even spare a glance at Wonwoo without looking away half a second later.
Test number one: Fail.
“One last thing.” Wonwoo held his hand up and spread his fingers. “Touch my hand.”
Mingyu hesitantly pressed his palm against Wonwoo’s. He never realized how much he missed feeling Wonwoo,
even like this. The coldness of his hands made him want to cradle them in his own and heat them up with his hot
breath, but something about that moment made Mingyu feel like it wasn’t allowed. All touching, feeling and
actions were prohibited unless Wonwoo said otherwise.
Wonwoo held their hands up to the sky and peeked through the gaps, squinting. He was looking for one last reason
to stay with Mingyu, to give him one more chance. But he searched the stars, and then he searched again, and was
met with nothing between their fingers. The thirteen stars were out, as well as all the chances they had. It was time
for Wonwoo to leave.
Test number two: Also fail.
It was then when Wonwoo realized that he was stalling, as always. He was looking for excuses and reasons to not
leave, something anyone would’ve probably expected from him. But it was time to drop it. He had to quit
distracting himself, because that’s what was going to make everything so much harder to do.
“Maybe we’ve had enough,” Wonwoo murmured.
“...What?”
Wonwoo moved his hand away from Mingyu’s. Suddenly, it grew colder. “I’m, uh– I think it’s time for me to go.”
“Oh,” Mingyu stood up straight, his feet flat against the bridge, “yeah– no, it’s… fine. It’s pretty late. I should take
you home.”
“No, I’ll just walk alone.”
“No, Wonwoo, can you just stop?” Mingyu looked frustrated. “Just let me take you home. It’s your last night.”
With strict determination, Wonwoo said, “I’m walking home.”
“What did Donghyun say to you? If he said anything, I’ll talk to him about it and work things out; I’m not going to
let him say shit to you.”
Wonwoo felt himself soften. How could he leave if Mingyu was being so stubborn about not leaving him alone?
“He didn't say anything. I’m just having a bad day and I’d like to be alone.”
Mingyu remained still. “Okay,” he said, unconvinced but respecting what Wonwoo wanted, “I understand then.
Call me when you get home and when you leave tomorrow.”
Wonwoo paused. He stood there, staring at Mingyu with earnesty and sadness in his eyes. It made Mingyu feel
nervous, and Wonwoo could sense it.
"Goodbye, Mingyu."
At an instant, after Wonwoo said what was going to be his words of good riddance, Mingyu grabbed his wrist.
Wonwoo mentally cursed.

"No, wait. Why are you making it sound like you're leaving? Like, I know you have university and all, but this sounds
different." Mingyu gulped. "It honestly sounds like you're saying you won't see me again."

And that's exactly what Wonwoo’s words meant – or at least that's what they were supposed to mean, and it seemed
like Mingyu got the message. Wonwoo didn't want to leave Mingyu, if he were to be honest. Why would one want
to leave someone who's changed their life for the better and ensured so much happiness in the past and offered them
company during the loneliest times? Yet, while there’s that, Wonwoo realized that all of their sweet, cherished times
were the past, and things were different, which he had a hard time processing.

Looking at Mingyu, seeing his eyes desperate and teary, made Wonwoo feel a sense of guilt. How badly he wanted
to say, "I’m not leaving you,” but alas, the days of Mingyu and Wonwoo – Wonwoo and Mingyu – were inching
closer to the very end of their friendship. It was almost like Wonwoo was experiencing a nightmare he'd been
dreading to live. Maybe that's exactly what was happening.

"I don't want you in my life anymore–"

"Wonwoo, please–"

"–and I need to learn how to live without waiting for you."

"We can work this out–"

"I was invited to transfer to Tokyo for a semester as a representative, and I’ll send postcards or something. Maybe
not, but it's better if you knew beforehand."

"If this is about Donghyun–"

"Good luck in college. I want you to eat, and I don't mean cups of instant ramen or microwaveable food. Eat some
street food, because it’s better than everything else."

"Let me speak–"

"I won't fucking let you speak, because hearing you try to stop me might actually work, meaning I can't save myself
from this constant heartbreak I’ve been dealing with!" When Wonwoo snapped, all was quiet. All that moved
suddenly forgot how to, leaving the world's air feeling tense. Not even a single cricket bothered to chirp. He
continued, his tone wavering, "I’ve been hurting, Mingyu. Not physically, but my thoughts and emotions are so
messed up that I’m beginning to actually hurt" – He felt his heart twist at his sadness, frustrated tears trickling at the
corners of his eyes – "and I can’t stand it."

As the seconds passed in their argument, the pain was hurting more and more. Wonwoo just wanted to leave without
Mingyu trying to stop him.

Just above a whisper, Mingyu asked, “Wonwoo-ah… do you still like me?”
At that, Wonwoo laughed. Instead of warmth radiating from it, there was only ice. Then his face soured in anger as
he kicked the supports that were attached to the railing of the bridge, turning his back on Mingyu.
“Like? Like? Is that the only word you can come up with?” He whipped around and bore his eyes into the latter’s,
tears still collecting as he forced himself to keep them in. “I’ve loved you since high school, and I still love you
today! Regardless of how much shit I’ve been going through, of you always ignoring me for your boyfriend and
watching you fall for someone who isn’t me, I’m still in love with you! Everyone’s been telling me to stop, that I’ll
be better off with someone else, but I can’t fucking let go! Why? BECAUSE I CAN’T STOP LOVING YOU!”
"Well why didn’t you tell me?!”
“How am I supposed to tell my best friend that I’m in love with him, when he’s already with someone else?”
Mingyu’s expression fell, taken aback at what Wonwoo said. He blinked, loosened his shoulders and felt his lips
twitch downward. “Mingyu, I may be in love with you, but I’m not enough of an asshole to get in between you and
Donghyun.”
“You should’ve said something earlier! Before high school – that was a long time ago, Wonwoo!”
“It’s because I fucking waited too long for the right moment to confess! And when you unexpectedly found
someone else while I was gone, it was already too late!” Wonwoo let out a shaky breath to calm himself down. His
voice softened after a choked sob fought past his lips, and he wiped away the mucus dripping from his nose. “I’m
done. I’m tired of regretting my choices, I’m sick of this one-sided love bullshit, and I don’t want any of the
memories I shared with you in the past; they hurt too much to think about. I’m leaving, and I don’t intend on seeing
you again.”
So Wonwoo turned around, feeling himself crumble from the inside. Over and over again he told himself not to cry;
Wonwoo tried doing so much to stop himself from showing any signs of regret, but he didn't want to leave Mingyu.
He didn't want to leave his best friend – his first love. But to save himself from any more heartache, he knew they
had to split.

It was hard. So hard.

"I’m sorry, hyung," Mingyu said.

And that’s what made it even harder, because hearing his best friend finally call him “hyung” was more than heart
wrenching to listen to. Wonwoo was always the “best friend,” and he was always the “pessimistic guy,” and he was
sometimes a lot of other things, but never had he ever been “hyung.” Something about it made Wonwoo feel more
sad than happy to hear.
"Don’t call me hyung," Wonwoo uttered, "and I’m not changing my mind about leaving you."
From behind him, Mingyu sounded like he was crying. The itch to turn and hug Mingyu and stop him from crying
begged amongst the hairs of Wonwoo’s skin, yet he didn't oblige. Mingyu was making this “goodbye forever” thing
harder than it needed to be.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Pivoting, Wonwoo’s eyes met Mingyu’s sad ones. Unable to speak, because he knew he'd cry again if he did,
Wonwoo shook his head solemnly then continued down the pathway. To his disappointment, Mingyu didn't follow.

·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇

“Wonwoo!”
Minsuh was running to him, her short hair blown to her face. Wonwoo stopped walking and kept his eyes away
from her.
“Hey” – She punched his shoulder – “if I’d known that taking out the trash meant disappearing for three hours, I
would've done the chores myself. You should've at least told me you’d be gone!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be! Jimin pooped her pants and she wouldn’t stay still, but Chan didn't want to help and– Hey…”
Minsuh angled her head to look up at her cousin, who’d definitely grown much taller than her in the past year he
was gone. She noticed the redness in Wonwoo’s eyes, the puffy skin surrounding them, his blushed nose and
paleness of his skin. Concerned, she placed a warm hand on his cheek, another on his bicep, and asked, “Have you
been crying?”
 Wonwoo slowly peered up to look at her through his wet lashes, meeting her eyes. Just looking at him this way
made Minsuh’s heart crack, and the first thing she wanted to do was hug his problems away. Wonwoo swallowed
hard before saying:
“It’s over. Mingyu and I… we’re completely done. No more sadness. No more confusion. No more unrequited
love. No more friendship. We’re over and done with.” He faked a smile that only appeared as heartbroken. Seeing
the sympathy that softened Minsuh's features, his lips quivered and more tears welled in his eyes. Then, he broke
down into heartbroken sobs that did nothing but embarrass him, and Minsuh yanked him closer into a tight,
protective embrace. “I just gave up my best friend. I’ve officially given up on Mingyu” – He held his cousin tighter
– “and it hurts so, so much.”

24
January 2nd, 2016
On Wonwoo’s last day of his visit back home, he treated his parents, aunts and uncles to a night out consisting of a
movie and dinner paid by him. They refused at first – of course they did; they couldn’t just accept a younger
person’s money so easily – but after much talking, he eventually convinced them to go anyway. In return, he and
Minsuh would take care of the other kids in the house with Chan.
“So you know where the keys are, right? Right. Also, there are leftovers in the fridge and extra money on the table
in case you decide to order pizza. The kids have to be in bed by nine at most, but Dino sleeps at eleven. Make sure
everyone has a glass of milk before bed and–”
“–brush their teeth; I get it.”
Wonwoo expected to hear his mother ramble about the do’s and don’t’s of the house, but he didn’t think she’d have
so much in mind. Her list, if on paper, would be long enough to wrap around their house twice. There was too
much to understand and follow, and too much to listen to. It was the fourth time she’d told him of what to do that
day, and frankly Wonwoo was getting sick of it.
She turned to him at the doorway, appearing more dressed up than ever. Wonwoo didn’t remember her owning
anything other than sweatpants and her usual work clothes, but looking at her dark jeans he guessed that she finally
made time for shopping while he was gone. Layered beneath her tan sweater was a white button up, and over all of
it was the black coat Wonwoo got for her birthday a year ago. Protecting her feet were a pair of ankle boots to
match her matte red lips. His mother looked stunning.
“All right, college boy,” she chuckled, grabbing her purse from the display table by the door, “I guess they’re your
responsibility now. Are you sure you can do this? You know that they can be a hassle…”
Wonwoo peered down at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, his eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “Wow, why
don’t you look at that: Your movie starts in thirty minutes. I heard it’s going to be a full house tonight,” he sing-
sang, hinting that it was time for her and the rest to leave.
Smiling, just as she always did (Mingyu said it was a Jeon thing, because his family was full of people who had
smiles that probably tasted like candy), she placed her hand on Wonwoo’s head and stroked the midpoint of his
hairline with her thumb. “Hey,” she said softly, forced to look up in order to meet her son’s eyes, “thank you for
this. It’s very thoughtful of you.”
“Best son in the world?” Wonwoo teased, chuckling as he gently moved her hand away from his scalp.
His mother nodded. “You're getting there, kid.” Then her husband, who wore a baby blue button down and khakis,
intertwined their hands together to usher her out the house. As they walked to the car, Wonwoo’s mother looked
over her shoulder to send one last wave to her son before leaving. “Stay safe!”
“We will!”
Moments later, the cars that belonged to Wonwoo’s aunts and uncles were stalking his parents’ Honda down the
road. By the time they were out of sight, he closed the front door, locked it then went to the living room to join his
cousins.
“Woonie-hyung,” one of them squealed, waddling over to him with her tiny feet and hugging his leg, “let’s play!”
“Play?” he grunted, lifting her up and holding her at his side. “Sure, we can play. How about some hide and seek
with everyone?”
It was a half-terrible idea. The house could barely fit the people inside and it was small enough to make “hide and
seek” sound more like “turn and– oh! there you are!” But part of the family was getting ready to move overseas for
his uncle’s new job, so the house was overflowing with boxes and scattered items, making it easy to hide as long as
the people playing remained quiet.
Since Wonwoo was the one who proposed the idea, the kids made him the seeker and turned him to face a corner.
While counting to fifty, there were mice-like sounds of giggles and shuffling feet as everyone else hid. He hollered,
“Forty-nine… fifty,” then whipped around to begin his search, already spotting a small pair of feet peeking from
underneath a box, “ready or not, here I come!”
Twenty minutes into the game, Wonwoo learned that kids were outstanding hiders and better at the game than
adults like him. He found kids in exotic places he never knew were possible to hide in, like beneath the cushions of
the couch (thank God he didn’t sit on them), the top shelf of the storage closet, within piles of overdue laundry and
inside guitar cases. It was a perk of being so young, because 1) you’re adorably small and 2) your imagination is
literally just a gigantic marble of bright paint. During times like this, he really wished he wasn’t nineteen but nine
instead.
Throughout the other games that were played, Wonwoo’s cousins took advantage of him and did whatever they
wanted – on him. They were kids, but they weren’t dumb; they knew he was leaving again for school the next
morning. That being said, the girls dressed him in tiaras and pink boas, while the boys used washable Crayola
markers to draw monster truck “tattoos” on his skin. There was no way he could get out of this because one of the
kids was hunched over his back and Minsuh was out getting her medication. Chan… well, he asked out some
brunette from dance class and was thus too busy texting her to help.
Wonwoo’s ears perked when he heard the front door unlock, and when he saw Minsuh entering the house, he felt
relief wash over him.
“I’m home!” she called out.
Everyone replied, “Welcome to the Jeon, Lee and Cho’s humble homey home!” – a family thing they started doing
ever since Wonwoo left for college.
Minsuh was shivering. She left her white paper bag of pill bottles on the counter and removed her faux leather
gloves, huffing hot breath into her hands. Her body seemed to scrunch into itself as she crouched down by
Wonwoo, who was still being attacked by at least four of his cousins.
“You look like the princess of a kingdom full of motorcycle gangs and thugs,” she laughed.
Wonwoo sent her a wavered, mocking smile that matched his subtle glare. “Wow, since when were you so funny?”
Minsuh smiled brightly, answering, “I’ve always been funny, little cousin of mine; you just never noticed.”
“Okay” – Wonwoo forced himself up into a monstrous, Godzilla-like pose as his tone transitioned to his spot-on
Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation – “it is time for me to clean up, my little children.”
The kids scrambled off, screaming and giggling to the living room.
“If I were still six right now, I’d be terrified of you,” Minsuh said. She sighed as she got up, looking straight at
Chan. He was – of course – grinning down at his phone and tapping his thumbs on the lower part of the screen.
“Dino,” she whistled, making him straighten his neck to look at her, “go play a movie for the kids.”
“But–”
“Big Hero 6 and Lion King are on the TV stand.”
“Wait, but–”
“I’m taking your phone if you don’t listen.”
Eyes wide, Chan stuffed his phone in his pocket and rushed to the living room, leaving Wonwoo and Minsuh alone.
Minsuh rolled her eyes when she turned to Wonwoo, and Wonwoo looked down at her with an impressed smirk.
“You got him to get off his phone for more than five seconds,” he praised, “good work.”
She winked and made a clicking sound with her teeth. “I’m a witch; I casted a spell on him and now all he does is
obey me.”
“Terrifying.”
“Indeed.”
Wonwoo asked about Minsuh’s pills after that, like what they were for and where she got them. Apparently she
was low on vitamin D, so the doctor prescribed her something to help it back up again. Because the pills were easy
to swallow, Minsuh didn’t mind taking them.
While she was explaining her run-in with one of her ex boyfriends at the pharmacy, Wonwoo’s phone buzzed on
the table. He and Minsuh drew their attention to it.

Caller ID: Unknown

“Prank call?” Minsuh questioned.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m ignoring it.”
They continued where they left off, but when it was around six, Wonwoo remembered that trash day was the next
morning and there were several bags of garbage in the house. While Minsuh was in the living room with the rest,
he collected all the bags and headed out to leave them in front of the house.
As he dropped the last bag, he received another call from an unknown number. He declined it without hesitation,
but was startled when he heard a voice say, “You know, they say it’s rude to ignore a person’s call like that.”
Wonwoo turned around and blinked in surprise. Somehow, with no knowledge of how he even got there, Wonwoo
found himself staring at Donghyun. He had his phone in his hand, a sly smirk playing his lips. Wonwoo shouldn't
have felt to nervous, but – hell, he was nervous.
“Uh, hi,” came his lame greeting, too surprised to think of anything decent.
Donghyun stood there for a moment, just smiling. It was scary looking at him, knowing that he was there without
Mingyu. Whatever reason he was there for, it must have been important.
“If you don't mind,” he said, “maybe we could take a walk? Get something warm to drink?” Wonwoo hesitated. “I
know a really good place that sells hot chocolate.”
Looking back at the house, he thought that maybe he could get some hot chocolate – no longer than an hour. So he
tucked his cold, balled fists in the pockets of his oversized hoodie and nodded.
Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to sit in Donghyun’s gazillion dollar car with black interior and leather seats and
tropical air fresheners, but Donghyun insisted. The ride was quiet and not even the radio was playing. It felt
awkward, to Wonwoo at least; Donghyun seemed just fine.
They arrived at a café near the city’s western bridge, which wasn’t too far from Wonwoo’s house. Despite the time,
there was still a handful of people inside, talking and laughing over hot beverages made by the college-age baristas.
The inside looked like any other café in town: rustic and earthy; nothing like the urban lifestyle of the city.
Wonwoo found a table for them right by the window as Donghyun ordered him a hot chocolate and a green tea latte
for himself. When he returned, he had a plate of lemon and raspberry pound cake.
“You look like the type to like this,” Donghyun said, pointing at the raspberry cake with a silver fork, “so I got it
for you. My treat.”
Wonwoo reluctantly accepted the fork that was being handed to him and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, thanks. You
didn’t have to, really.”
“It’s fine” – He grabbed the other fork and took a piece of his lemon cake – “money isn’t a problem for me.”
Wonwoo’s smile faltered, but he tried keeping it out of respect. “Oh. Right.”
“So what’s up?”
Wonwoo wanted to say, “This is weird as hell,” but it was rude so instead he said, “Nothing much, I guess. Happy
and healthy; that’s all that matters.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Someone served them their drinks, and they thanked the person as she walked off. “How ‘bout you?
Anything new?”
Donghyun hummed, licking away the crumbs sticking to his lips. “Well, I have a golf tournament next weekend.”
“Are you nervous?”
He shrugged. “Nah. A little. I don’t know – one of the people I’m competing against is this thirteen year-old
prodigy from Germany and apparently he’s some genius in, like, twelfth grade.”
Wonwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s… that’s impressive.”
“Yeah, but” – Donghyun smirked – “all I have to do is find his weaknesses, and then I could win the game easily.”
“What if he's hard to read?” asked Wonwoo. “It’s hard to find some people’s weaknesses, you know.”
“Trust me: I know what I’m doing.”
Wonwoo nodded, taking a rather big bite from his cake. “Good luck then. I hope you win and, word of advice:
They say that to find a person’s weakness, you’ve gotta know their strengths, too.”
Donghyun laughed, low voiced and a bit more to himself than to Wonwoo. “Yeah, you’re definitely how Mingyu
described you.”
Wonwoo stopped chewing. “And… how does he describe me?”
“Kind, inspirational” – He took a sip of his latte – “a bit more kept-to-yourself than you appear to be.”
“Oh,” Wonwoo replied, although he really didn’t know how to, “I see. I guess that’s nice then.”
Donghyun hummed in reply.
“Well, um. He talks about you, too.”
“Really?” Donghyun didn’t seem affected by Wonwoo’s words, no sign of surprise nor happiness evident in his
face; it was as if he expected Wonwoo to say that. He gulped down a third of his drink. “What does he say?”
Actually, Wonwoo doesn't actually know what Mingyu says or thinks about Donghyun. They’ve talked about him
– obviously – but there was never a day when Mingyu ever said, “I am absolutely in love with him and his ass,” or
anything as simple as, “I really like his nose.” Matter of fact, Wonwoo knew nothing about Donghyun because
Mingyu never said anything. It was like Donghyun wasn’t playing a big role in his life at all.
“I don’t know,” Wonwoo answered truthfully, but then came the lie, “he says too much to remember.”
Donghyun nodded. “I’m surprised. He doesn’t usually talk about anyone else but you, so I’m flattered.”
“He loves you,” Wonwoo said, smiling, “I know he does.”
“Ah, right. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Donghyun bobbed his head in recognition of remembering,
but it looked more sarcastic than genuine. “Yeah, no. You’re wrong on so many levels. Mingyu always says he
loves me,” Donghyun murmured, his thumb running across the rim of his cup, “but he doesn’t.”
With Donghyun’s eyes trained down, there was no simple way for Wonwoo to tell how he felt; not even the sound
of his voice could define his feelings. He didn't sound disappointed, nor sad, nor happy. It was almost as if even he
didn't know how to feel. Wonwoo wasn't sure of what to say.
“I think he knows that he doesn't love me, but he doesn't want to admit it.” Donghyun swallowed hard. “Now I
know how you feel.”
Taken aback, Wonwoo cautiously asked, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know you have feelings for Mingyu.”
“I never said anything about that.”
“But it’s true right?” Donghyun looked up, his eyes greeting Wonwoo’s gaze with envy coloring the rings around
his pupils. Wonwoo refused to respond. “You make it so obvious. You look at him like he’s all there is in your
eyes, and everything he does makes you smile. But you laugh instead of saying you love him, because you know
you can’t say it out loud. It’s sad.”
Wonwoo still wasn't sure how to react. “We don't even know each other, but you somehow think you can say all
this–”
“You’re not hard to read,” Donghyun explained, “you make it too easy. And the funny thing is: I think Mingyu
loves you back.”
“He doesn’t.”
“God, you're dumb,” he uttered. He spoke louder, saying, “He’s so full of regret and doubt, he starts telling me
about it without even noticing. He and I have never had a conversation in which he doesn't mention your name. He
tells me that being around you makes him feel overwhelmed with words and feelings that he can’t express. Your
presence hurts him.” There was a sarcastic, humorless laugh that shook the table. He looked down, but made sure
he got a glance of the guilt on Wonwoo’s face. His grin stretched. “You're like poison.”
Wonwoo grew more vulnerable as the café felt colder. If he had known this was where their conversation would
lead to, Wonwoo would’ve bailed and returned home. Instead, he accepted and was sitting with Donghyun, the guy
who was making him feel like he was causing a life’s worth of damage.
He never wanted to hurt Mingyu; there must’ve been a mistake.
“I don't do this on purpose,” Wonwoo tried to defend.
“But you’re also blindly selfish. So much of his childhood was devoted to you, but you didn't try hard enough when
he left you for me because you wanted him to do all the hard work; you wanted him to crawl back to you. Don’t
argue and say it isn't true, either; you know it is.” Wonwoo opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. “For
the past year, you’ve watched him live a life without you, and you know damn well that he’s been doing just fine.
He doesn't need you anymore, Wonwoo. You could only hold so many memories with a person before it all ends
right before your eyes. You might as well let go.”
Wonwoo didn't say anything, because Donghyun was right: Mingyu didn't need him anymore. He was Mingyu’s
past – Mingyu’s childhood – and his years of being a child were already gone. Mingyu was reaching the first stages
of being an entirely different person, and being a new person meant forgetting about some of his past. Wonwoo
was his past. Wonwoo was going to be forgotten.
“You’re right,” he admitted, “but I was already planning on leaving anyway.”

·̇·̇··̇ ̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇

The meet up with Donghyun ended shortly after their talk. Itching to drive home quickly, he bid Wonwoo a careless
farewell before leaving him alone on the sidewalk. While watching his car pull out the curb and start down the road,
Wonwoo stood there with white lips and cold hands yearning for warmth in his pockets. He checked the time:
7:20 PM
He had to get home and let Minsuh know he was okay. He’d gotten eight missed called from her, along with a
couple more from Chan. His phone was dying though, running on very little battery. Since he was walking, he
needed to save as much of it as he could in case of emergency.
It felt like penetrating Jack Frost’s ass outside; the subtle breeze swayed his hair, his skin tightened from the
temperature and his nose was runny. He wasn’t wearing the right attire for such a cold winter’s night, because a
hoodie and jeans were definitely not going to keep him warm. Thankfully, he got his hot chocolate to go, which
saved him from crumbling into icy pieces on the pavement.
Nearing the western bridge, Wonwoo’s phone rang and his cup of hot chocolate was swerving towards emptiness.
He chugged down the last of his drink, and then tossed it in a nearby garbage can as he answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Wonw– Oh, God. Where are you?” Mingyu. “Are you okay? Minsuh called and said you went missing for the
past few hours, and no one knew where you were!”
“I’m okay, Mingyu. Really.”
“Where are you right now? I’m at the western bridge by that bakery we used to go to. Are you far?”
Wonwoo stopped walking. He had already reached the western bridge, and right in front of him was none other than
Kim Mingyu, who was anxiously pacing back and forth with his thumb held between his teeth. Looking at his tousled
hair, rising chest, disheveled clothes and knitted eyebrows, it wasn't hard to say that Mingyu was a worried mess on
the verge of tearing the city apart to find his best friend. Wonwoo smiled appreciatively, but his heart ached upon
thinking that it’d probably be his last time seeing Mingyu at all.
“Seriously, where are y–”
“Look to your left.”
Turning, Mingyu found Wonwoo slowly walking towards him, his winter lips pursed into a fine line and his phone
pressed to his ear. Relief extinguished the worry and anxiety burning his veins, and a sigh puffed out of his chest
and fogged the cold air. He ran to Wonwoo.
“Wonwoo!” As Wonwoo lifted his hand to wave, he was taken aback by the sudden embrace he was yanked into.
Mingyu was holding him with all the protection he could provide, and Wonwoo’s stomach churned with sickness.
“Oh, thank God! Everyone’s been all over the place looking for you.” He pulled away to hold Wonwoo’s cheeks in
his hands, his eyes frantically searching for any signs of physical harm. “You’re okay, right? You didn't get jumped
or anything?”
Wonwoo shook his head slowly, too overwhelmed by Mingyu’s reaction. “No, I’m fine. I was just walking around
with Donghyun; I didn’t get hurt.”
“Okay” – Mingyu hugged him again. For the first time, Wonwoo didn't hug back – “good. I was worried sick.”
Carefully, Wonwoo untangled himself from Mingyu’s hold and took a step back to create some distance. He smiled
at Mingyu before resting his arms on the railing of the bridge, adoring how the lights made the water glisten.
Mingyu copied after.
He was going to do it – he was going to leave Mingyu – but he figured that maybe it was okay to share one last
moment with him before saying goodbye. Undoubtedly, the western bridge was the most beautiful place for it to
happen; perhaps too pretty for declaring good riddance to the person Wonwoo cared so deeply about. Below the
bridge was a stream that led to who-knew-where, and it carried petals and leaves from bushes and trees along with
it. Over the stream were dead cherry blossom trees preparing for spring, decorated in string lights that laced around
their branches and trunks. There was a faint smell of chocolate and cinnamon coming from the late night bakery
nearby. Wonwoo loved it – so much that he almost forgot Mingyu was with him.
“You’re doing it again,” Mingyu said. When Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed in question, Mingyu explained, “You
know, that thing you always do when you see something pretty. Like, you have this look of appreciation and it
makes you look all soft.” He grinned. “It’s my favorite thing about you.”
Wonwoo nodded. “It’s nice to know that there's at least something to like.” He laughed, hoping that it distracted
Mingyu from the lack of actual, raw happiness that was present. “Lately, it’s been hard to find anything to truly like
about myself.”
“There’s a lot to like,” Mingyu said, “such as your smile… and the way your nose crinkles… and the sound of your
laugh… and this, how you always take time to appreciate things… and your dorkiness…” His tone drifted off
elsewhere, along with his gaze. “My point is: There’s a lot to like, whether you know it now or not.”
Shit, Wonwoo wanted to cry. The usual swirl-y, tangy feeling that often rested in the pit of his stomach was so
strong that he could actually feel touched tears ask to be let out. He gulped to hold it in, eyes still glued to the scene
ahead of him.
“How do you say goodbye to the person you love,” he murmured to himself, “without feeling like everything’s
ending all at once?”
And although it was directed to him and only him, Mingyu heard and answered, “Then you don't say goodbye – not
yet, at least. Why?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh!” Mingyu sprung up from his slouching position and whipped around so that he was facing Wonwoo, making
the latter flinch in surprise. He chuckled. “By the way, I got your note! It got ruined because I accidentally spilled
tea on it – sorry. Why morse code?”
“I wanted to make it as private as possible,” Wonwoo answered honestly. “I would've used binary, but morse code
seemed more reasonable because, you know. Communication.”
“What did it say?”
Wonwoo looked down at his hands, swallowing hard. “It’s not important anymore.”
“Laaame” – Mingyu teasingly shoved Wonwoo’s shoulder with his own – “it’s still gotta mean something if you
wanted to be so secret about it.”
“Maybe some other day?”
“Hmph.” Mingyu leered. “No fun Wonwoo strikes again.”
Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu’s effort in lightening their talk because he was 100% sure Mingyu could sense the
heartache. But his efforts weren't enough. There wasn't anything that could make Wonwoo feel better.
He looked at Mingyu, and all he could think was: I am so in love with you. Mingyu wasn’t smiling; he looked
neutral, like he was trying to appreciate the view the same way Wonwoo did. The lights made stars in his eyes,
eyelashes going from white to black as it reflected it. He was stunning, even in his everyday clothes, and Wonwoo
was still whipped.
“Mingyu-ah” – Wonwoo was standing still, his eyes on Mingyu’s as the latter’s were focused on the arc of tree
branches creating a canopy over the stream – “can you do me a favor?”
Mingyu turned so that his body was reflecting Wonwoo’s. Nodding, he replied, “Of course, I’ll do anything.”
“Can you look at me in the eye?”
It was an odd question. Nonetheless, Mingyu did so anyway, or at least he tried to.
Their eyes didn't meet. It looked like they did – Mingyu internally lied to himself saying that they made eye contact
– but whatever they were doing was anything but that. Mingyu wasn't looking at the dark brown of Wonwoo’s
irises; he focused on the shortness of his lashes instead. Still, after all the hardship had passed – meaning the kiss
and separation – Mingyu couldn’t find it in him to look at Wonwoo the same as he did years ago.
And that’s the thing: Mingyu used to look at Wonwoo with doe eyes full of affection and adoration, stared deep
enough to see whatever was beyond the surface. Just by looking at Wonwoo, Mingyu was able to wordlessly let
him know how much he loved him – that the world meant nothing without his presence. But after too long, Mingyu
couldn't even spare a glance at Wonwoo without looking away half a second later.
Test number one: Fail.
“One last thing.” Wonwoo held his hand up and spread his fingers. “Touch my hand.”
Mingyu hesitantly pressed his palm against Wonwoo’s. He never realized how much he missed feeling Wonwoo,
even like this. The coldness of his hands made him want to cradle them in his own and heat them up with his hot
breath, but something about that moment made Mingyu feel like it wasn’t allowed. All touching, feeling and
actions were prohibited unless Wonwoo said otherwise.
Wonwoo held their hands up to the sky and peeked through the gaps, squinting. He was looking for one last reason
to stay with Mingyu, to give him one more chance. But he searched the stars, and then he searched again, and was
met with nothing between their fingers. The thirteen stars were out, as well as all the chances they had. It was time
for Wonwoo to leave.
Test number two: Also fail.
It was then when Wonwoo realized that he was stalling, as always. He was looking for excuses and reasons to not
leave, something anyone would’ve probably expected from him. But it was time to drop it. He had to quit
distracting himself, because that’s what was going to make everything so much harder to do.
“Maybe we’ve had enough,” Wonwoo murmured.
“...What?”
Wonwoo moved his hand away from Mingyu’s. Suddenly, it grew colder. “I’m, uh– I think it’s time for me to go.”
“Oh,” Mingyu stood up straight, his feet flat against the bridge, “yeah– no, it’s… fine. It’s pretty late. I should take
you home.”
“No, I’ll just walk alone.”
“No, Wonwoo, can you just stop?” Mingyu looked frustrated. “Just let me take you home. It’s your last night.”
With strict determination, Wonwoo said, “I’m walking home.”
“What did Donghyun say to you? If he said anything, I’ll talk to him about it and work things out; I’m not going to
let him say shit to you.”
Wonwoo felt himself soften. How could he leave if Mingyu was being so stubborn about not leaving him alone?
“He didn't say anything. I’m just having a bad day and I’d like to be alone.”
Mingyu remained still. “Okay,” he said, unconvinced but respecting what Wonwoo wanted, “I understand then.
Call me when you get home and when you leave tomorrow.”
Wonwoo paused. He stood there, staring at Mingyu with earnesty and sadness in his eyes. It made Mingyu feel
nervous, and Wonwoo could sense it.
"Goodbye, Mingyu."
At an instant, after Wonwoo said what was going to be his words of good riddance, Mingyu grabbed his wrist.
Wonwoo mentally cursed.
"No, wait. Why are you making it sound like you're leaving? Like, I know you have university and all, but this sounds
different." Mingyu gulped. "It honestly sounds like you're saying you won't see me again."

And that's exactly what Wonwoo’s words meant – or at least that's what they were supposed to mean, and it seemed
like Mingyu got the message. Wonwoo didn't want to leave Mingyu, if he were to be honest. Why would one want
to leave someone who's changed their life for the better and ensured so much happiness in the past and offered them
company during the loneliest times? Yet, while there’s that, Wonwoo realized that all of their sweet, cherished times
were the past, and things were different, which he had a hard time processing.

Looking at Mingyu, seeing his eyes desperate and teary, made Wonwoo feel a sense of guilt. How badly he wanted
to say, "I’m not leaving you,” but alas, the days of Mingyu and Wonwoo – Wonwoo and Mingyu – were inching
closer to the very end of their friendship. It was almost like Wonwoo was experiencing a nightmare he'd been
dreading to live. Maybe that's exactly what was happening.

"I don't want you in my life anymore–"

"Wonwoo, please–"

"–and I need to learn how to live without waiting for you."

"We can work this out–"

"I was invited to transfer to Tokyo for a semester as a representative, and I’ll send postcards or something. Maybe
not, but it's better if you knew beforehand."

"If this is about Donghyun–"

"Good luck in college. I want you to eat, and I don't mean cups of instant ramen or microwaveable food. Eat some
street food, because it’s better than everything else."

"Let me speak–"

"I won't fucking let you speak, because hearing you try to stop me might actually work, meaning I can't save myself
from this constant heartbreak I’ve been dealing with!" When Wonwoo snapped, all was quiet. All that moved
suddenly forgot how to, leaving the world's air feeling tense. Not even a single cricket bothered to chirp. He
continued, his tone wavering, "I’ve been hurting, Mingyu. Not physically, but my thoughts and emotions are so
messed up that I’m beginning to actually hurt" – He felt his heart twist at his sadness, frustrated tears trickling at the
corners of his eyes – "and I can’t stand it."

As the seconds passed in their argument, the pain was hurting more and more. Wonwoo just wanted to leave without
Mingyu trying to stop him.

Just above a whisper, Mingyu asked, “Wonwoo-ah… do you still like me?”
At that, Wonwoo laughed. Instead of warmth radiating from it, there was only ice. Then his face soured in anger as
he kicked the supports that were attached to the railing of the bridge, turning his back on Mingyu.
“Like? Like? Is that the only word you can come up with?” He whipped around and bore his eyes into the latter’s,
tears still collecting as he forced himself to keep them in. “I’ve loved you since high school, and I still love you
today! Regardless of how much shit I’ve been going through, of you always ignoring me for your boyfriend and
watching you fall for someone who isn’t me, I’m still in love with you! Everyone’s been telling me to stop, that I’ll
be better off with someone else, but I can’t fucking let go! Why? BECAUSE I CAN’T STOP LOVING YOU!”

"Well why didn’t you tell me?!”

“How am I supposed to tell my best friend that I’m in love with him, when he’s already with someone else?”
Mingyu’s expression fell, taken aback at what Wonwoo said. He blinked, loosened his shoulders and felt his lips
twitch downward. “Mingyu, I may be in love with you, but I’m not enough of an asshole to get in between you and
Donghyun.”
“You should’ve said something earlier! Before high school – that was a long time ago, Wonwoo!”
“It’s because I fucking waited too long for the right moment to confess! And when you unexpectedly found
someone else while I was gone, it was already too late!” Wonwoo let out a shaky breath to calm himself down. His
voice softened after a choked sob fought past his lips, and he wiped away the mucus dripping from his nose. “I’m
done. I’m tired of regretting my choices, I’m sick of this one-sided love bullshit, and I don’t want any of the
memories I shared with you in the past; they hurt too much to think about. I’m leaving, and I don’t intend on seeing
you again.”
So Wonwoo turned around, feeling himself crumble from the inside. Over and over again he told himself not to cry;
Wonwoo tried doing so much to stop himself from showing any signs of regret, but he didn't want to leave Mingyu.
He didn't want to leave his best friend – his first love. But to save himself from any more heartache, he knew they
had to split.

It was hard. So hard.

"I’m sorry, hyung," Mingyu said.

And that’s what made it even harder, because hearing his best friend finally call him “hyung” was more than heart
wrenching to listen to. Wonwoo was always the “best friend,” and he was always the “pessimistic guy,” and he was
sometimes a lot of other things, but never had he ever been “hyung.” Something about it made Wonwoo feel more
sad than happy to hear.
"Don’t call me hyung," Wonwoo uttered, "and I’m not changing my mind about leaving you."
From behind him, Mingyu sounded like he was crying. The itch to turn and hug Mingyu and stop him from crying
begged amongst the hairs of Wonwoo’s skin, yet he didn't oblige. Mingyu was making this “goodbye forever” thing
harder than it needed to be.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Pivoting, Wonwoo’s eyes met Mingyu’s sad ones. Unable to speak, because he knew he'd cry again if he did,
Wonwoo shook his head solemnly then continued down the pathway. To his disappointment, Mingyu didn't follow.

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“Wonwoo!”
Minsuh was running to him, her short hair blown to her face. Wonwoo stopped walking and kept his eyes away
from her.
“Hey” – She punched his shoulder – “if I’d known that taking out the trash meant disappearing for three hours, I
would've done the chores myself. You should've at least told me you’d be gone!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be! Jimin pooped her pants and she wouldn’t stay still, but Chan didn't want to help and– Hey…”
Minsuh angled her head to look up at her cousin, who’d definitely grown much taller than her in the past year he
was gone. She noticed the redness in Wonwoo’s eyes, the puffy skin surrounding them, his blushed nose and
paleness of his skin. Concerned, she placed a warm hand on his cheek, another on his bicep, and asked, “Have you
been crying?”
Wonwoo slowly peered up to look at her through his wet lashes, meeting her eyes. Just looking at him this way
made Minsuh’s heart crack, and the first thing she wanted to do was hug his problems away. Wonwoo swallowed
hard before saying:
 “It’s over. Mingyu and I… we’re completely done. No more sadness. No more confusion. No more unrequited
love. No more friendship. We’re over and done with.” He faked a smile that only appeared as heartbroken. Seeing
the sympathy that softened Minsuh's features, his lips quivered and more tears welled in his eyes. Then, he broke
down into heartbroken sobs that did nothing but embarrass him, and Minsuh yanked him closer into a tight,
protective embrace. “I just gave up my best friend. I’ve officially given up on Mingyu” – He held his cousin tighter
– “and it hurts so, so much.”

25
November 24th, 2016
Months without Wonwoo had passed, and Mingyu was nothing but lost and incomplete. Walking felt more like
wandering; breathing felt like gasping; sleeping felt like rotting. During their months of separation and distance,
Donghyun quickly noticed Mingyu’s change in behavior, concluding that maybe Wonwoo really did end things
between them. There was no guilt, not a single bit since the big “problem” way finally out of the way, but then came
Mingyu’s refusal to go on dates, the subtle head-turns away from kisses and lack of communication. Like a broken
record, Mingyu was pushing people away again and again.
Mingyu and Donghyun didn’t break up – or at least not officially. They stopped talking, going on dates and trading
hugs and kisses of affection. Mingyu’s I love you’s turned into dust as he said it less; eventually, he stopped saying
it all at once. Whenever they were together, Donghyun would ask about Mingyu’s day and Mingyu would say
everything’s just fine. But Mingyu had always been a bad liar, and Donghyun saw right through it.
Donghyun missed what they used to have. He missed their small arguments and Mingyu’s efforts in fixing
everything. Mingyu’s touches of love were itched for, along with the sound of his laugh. He wanted to spend time
with Mingyu at the country club again, just like before. But he knew it was unfair of him to miss anything if he
never gave Mingyu equal treatment. Donghyun wasn’t a good boyfriend, and he knew it. They both knew.
They finally spent time together on the day of Donghyun’s congratulatory party in celebration of winning the
nationwide golf tournament. The same snobby, close-minded men Mingyu often saw attended, all dressed in black
and white suits, their problematic wives clinging to their arms. Children hung around their nannies.
For most of it, Mingyu roamed the party by himself. People who were congratulating him and news reporters that
wanted an interview constantly surrounded Donghyun. He told Mingyu, “Sorry, babe. I’ll sit with you later,” but
Mingyu already knew that Donghyun loved all the attention, so he let it pass. A fourth of the party was spent with
Seungcheol and his date; however, being a third wheel always sucked, which led him to leaving them with the
excuse of getting more chocolate covered strawberries.
During the speeches for Donghyun, given by his parents and Mingyu's father, Mingyu sat at a table near the back.
They were long, boring monologues that were probably written hours before the party. Mingyu didn't bother
listening to a word these people had to say.
“Cheers,” Donghyun said through the handheld microphone, holding up a glass of champagne, “to another
successful season.”
The men and women in the room held up their glasses, jovial “cheers!” and hoots resounding from the audience.
Joining, Mingyu held up his can of Sprite and downed the entire thing, belching afterwards.
“Pst” – Mingyu turned around, eyebrows raised – “hey.” He was looking at Minghao, who was pulling out a chair
beside him with Subin’s hand in his. He murmured a greeting as he watched them sit together on the chair. “You’re
alone?”
Mingyu shrugged. “I have Donghyun, but he’s up on stage, so…”
Nodding, Minghao fed Subin a chocolate covered strawberry from Mingyu’s plate (he didn't ask, which would've
counted as rude if Mingyu actually cared). “You aren't smiling. Aren’t you happy he won the tournament?”
“Of course I’m happy. Well, I think I am. I don’t know.” Mingyu propped his elbows on the table and hid his face
in his hands. “Am I a bad boyfriend for saying that I feel iffy about this? I’ve never seen him practice yet he’s won
every game this season. You can’t just win something this big without practicing, right?”
Minghao hummed as he thought about it, then yelped when Subin accidentally bit his thumb and not the
strawberry. “Ow, Subin!” He fed her the rest of the strawberry and wiped his hands with a napkin. “Uh, I dunno,
hyung. He could be a naturally good player?”
“No, you don’t get it,” Mingyu said, shaking his head. “He… he’s not that good. I don’t know much about golf, but
I’ve seen him play. He’s not good enough to be undefeated.”
Minghao shrugged. “I’m really sorry, but I honestly have no idea how he won. The game could’ve been biased for
all I know.”
“So… cheating?”
“I hope I don’t offend you by saying this, but it’s a possibility.” He picked a chunk of chocolate off of Subin’s face.
“Cheating isn't a new thing in competitions, you know. As long as you have money, you can win anything.”
Mingyu’s chewed on his bottom lip. Donghyun couldn't have cheated; he wasn't that desperate. He never seemed
that into golf anyway, so it didn't make sense for him to bribe his way to championships. But as Mingyu’s head
turned to the stage, he saw Donghyun’s smile – and it was etched in cockiness rather than pride. Suddenly, the
thought of cheating didn’t seem unlikely.

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The speeches were done, and everyone returned to socializing. The ballroom reeked of alcohol as attendees laughed
and spoke excessively. Subin, at one point, asked about the smell, and Minghao pressed a bitten strawberry to her
nose to hide the yeasty scent. Oblivious to his intentions, she giggled and did the same thing to his nose.
Mingyu looked for Donghyun through the crowd of people, eventually spotting him by the stage with his friends.
“Hey, Minghao” – Both Subin and Minghao’s attention were drawn to him – “I’m going to talk to Donghyun for a
bit.” He waved at them as he got up. “I’ll see you.”
Subin waved her sticky hands as Mingyu walked away, shouting “Bye-bye!” He looked over his shoulder and
smiled at her, and then snaked through the crowd to approach his boyfriend. As soon as he was behind Donghyun,
Donghyun’s friends nudged him and pointed up at Mingyu. Donghyun turned around and grinned when their eyes
met.
“Hi, boyfriend.”
“Hey” – Mingyu pulled Donghyun aside – “is it okay if we talk for a bit? It’s… kind of important.”
Donghyun’s smile faded for a second before he brought it back. It didn’t meet his eyes, but he tried. “Sure.” He
looked over his shoulder and waved at the group of people he was talking to previously. “I’ll catch up with you
guys later! Boyfriend’s calling!”
The boys whistled, and if Mingyu weren’t so serious he would've winked at the group. Instead, he glared while
leading Donghyun to the lobby. He never liked Donghyun’s friends, anyway.
The lobby wasn’t occupied by many people, and the only people there were the janitor and two receptionists. To
keep the conversation private, he and Donghyun stood at the lounging area, away from the front desk.
“What’s up?” Donghyun asked. “You're being very out of character. Are you okay?”
“Did you perhaps” – Mingyu hesitated in fear of offending Donghyun – “cheat?”
Donghyun looked taken aback. “Wait, what? No, I’d never cheat on you.”
“That’s… not what I meant.” Mingyu looked down. “I meant the game. Did you really win, or was the entire thing
biased?”
There was no response for a while, so Mingyu looked up and Donghyun stood still. He stared at his boyfriend in
confusion, repeated the question, then felt all the air in his lungs escape when Donghyun nodded.
“I did,” Donghyun answered with shame, “but please don't think of me differently.”
Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? You seriously cheated? How did you even get away
with that?”
“Your dad’s the judge, Mingyu–”
“Oh, so that’s why? Because my dad thought it was a great idea to let you win without working hard for it?”
“I know it was bad of me to cheat,” Donghyun said as he held both of Mingyu’s hands, “but I can’t do anything
about it now. We should dance to get your mind off of things.”
When Mingyu was pulled to the ballroom, he drew his hands back and shook his head. Donghyun frowned. “I’m
not in the mood for dancing, Donghyun; I can't dance after knowing that my dad helped you cheat this entire time.”
“What's your problem? You’re never in the mood for anything anymore,” Donghyun argued. “You’ve been so not
you ever since Wonwoo dropped you. You can live just fine without him! Can you just grow up and forget that he
ever left you?”
Donghyun’s words pulled strings that should've remained untouched, and Mingyu’s mind went blank for a
moment. Realizing that he had said the wrong things, Donghyun repeated countless apologies. During those few
seconds, however, something flashed in the back of Mingyu’s mind.
“How did you know Wonwoo left me?” he asked, not remembering if he ever talked to his boyfriend about it.
Donghyun only kept apologizing, and it brought up Mingyu’s suspicion. “Donghyun.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Donghyun.”
“I swear I regret everything.”
“Donghyun, what are you talking about?”
He looked away, his body tense with anxiety. “A lot of things happened before he said goodbye,” he explained. “I
said some stuff I shouldn’t have said and, just–”
“Did you…” Mingyu’s voice trailed off, but Donghyun understood and nodded, guilty. “You didn’t. Come on,
you’re better than that.”
“Mingyu, please–”
“Don’t touch me,” Mingyu scoffed, glaring at Donghyun’s fallen expression as he stepped back. “I can’t believe I
ever put you before him. Why would you ever say anything to make him leave?!”
“No– Mingyu, I’m sorry! I really am!”
“You should be apologizing to Wonwoo, not me.”
As Mingyu walked away, betrayal and regret damaging his heart, Donghyun shouted, “We can't just end things like
this!”
Mingyu turned, and he couldn't fight off the déjà vu that reminded him that this was just like the day Wonwoo left
him, only at a different place with a completely different person. “I never said anything about us breaking up,” he
said, “but now that you mention it, we’re through. We’re ending it right here, right now.”
 That night, Mingyu walked away from Donghyun without saying goodbye, and Donghyun stood in a building full
of people, feeling more at fault than heartbroken.

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“Please stop calling, Donghyun; I need space right now.”

“But I need to explain why we dated in the first place.”
“Because we liked each other…”
“There’s a lot more to it, Mingyu. We can’t end things without you not knowing the truth.”

November 25th, 2016

The next night, Mingyu’s father had another dinner with his golf friends and some of the judges from Donghyun’s
tournament. Mingyu sat against the armrest of the family room’s couch, dozing off in muffled silence. The laughs
coming from the dining room angered him, his fists clenching the louder they got. Liars and traitors didn’t deserve
to be that happy, and they certainly didn’t deserve to live in such luxury, he thought. But living – breathing –
downstairs was a man who made Mingyu’s life a lie once again: His father.
He walked downstairs and to the dining room, pressing his back against the wall beside the entranceway. He leaned
his head back and closed his eyes. Confrontation was always a difficult thing for him in heavy situations, and this
was the hardest one yet. He didn’t know if he was ready.
Taking a deep breath, he walked in. An even number of eyes diverted to him, laughter dying as they saw Mingyu.
His father looked just as surprised as everyone else.
“Mingyu,” he said, “I thought you were going to bed early. Come, join us.”
“We need to talk.”
His dad laughed, but no one else in the room did. “Mingyu, please; we’re eating–”
“Now, dad.”
Mingyu waited until his father got up, then lead them outside. They stopped by the flowerbeds planted in front of
the house, adjacent from each other. It was dark, but the artificial lighting from the patio lights made it easier for
Mingyu to see his father’s face.
“What’s this about, Mingyu?” his father sighed. “This is disrespectful; we have guests over tonight.”
“When has there not been a guest here?” He laughed, but Mingyu didn’t, and that was enough to make him shut up.
“Did you bribe Donghyun into dating me?”
His father stiffened. “That’s ridiculous.”
Lies. All lies. When Donghyun called him that morning, soft sobs interrupting his words every few beats, he told
Mingyu everything. His reputation as a golf player was fake and cheated on – that was a given. However,
everything was possible because he made a deal with Mingyu’s father the night Mingyu stayed over for dinner; the
night Mingyu and Donghyun first met. “I need to make sure my son stays,” he told Donghyun, “so if you want me
to convince the judges to take you to nationals, I need you to do me a big favor.” Favor: “Make my son fall in love
with you so I don’t lose him.”
Because Seungcheol had told their father of Mingyu’s sexuality, an important fact that he had hoped would be
approved of, he took advantage of the information and assumed Donghyun would’ve been the right person to date
Mingyu. Bisexual, handsome, clever and well rounded – there was no better person for his son, he thought. It was a
foolish, distasteful idea that Donghyun knew shouldn’t have been accepted. He knew it would’ve made whatever
they had feel unreal. But he had feelings for Mingyu at the time, feelings that kept building brick by brick, so he
didn’t refuse.
Wonwoo then came along, and it feared Donghyun. He had the potential of taking Mingyu away, which made
winning nationals more unlikely. The history they had together couldn't go unnoticed either, and the way Mingyu
spoke about Wonwoo, with so much pride and adoration, was easy to see. Jealous and desperate for first place,
Donghyun convinced Wonwoo to drop everything, and he couldn't have felt more guilty of it after he confessed to
Mingyu of his wrongs.
So standing there, in front of the man that was supposed to be his father and knowing all of this information, made
Mingyu feel sick. He felt so overwhelmed; he could vomit at any second.
“What’s more ridiculous is that you’re denying the truth.” Mingyu’s eyes showed nothing but hurt. “There’s no use
in lying; Donghyun already told me about cheating his way to the tournament.”
“It was the only way I could get you back.”
“The only way to get me back, or the only way to keep me hooked around your finger?” His father’s gaze was
blank, unreadable. “Unbelievable. And to think that you actually cared for once–”
“I do care,” he answered quickly.
“Then why did you lie?”
“I needed something to keep you anchored!”
“All you did was lead me to a life that didn’t make me happy!”
His father looked offended and angry. “How can you have the nerve to say you’re unhappy after everything I’ve
done for you?!” Mingyu mumbled a few words as he listened to his father speak, rolling his eyes and pressing his
fingers to his temples. “I gave you money. I gave you a car, better clothes, quality food, a boyfriend and I even paid
for your tuition. Don’t you dare call me out like it’s all my fault.”
“I never said anything was your fault; I said that you lied to me. And those lies lead to my mistakes, because I only
believed whatever I was told!”
“That’s your fault for being gullible!”
And that did it; that made Mingyu burst into frustrated tears, like a child who couldn’t win an argument against the
bigger, bolder kid on the playground. “Parents don't make their sons look like fools, okay; I have been looking like
a fool this entire time because I thought Donghyun actually loved me” – He shook his head, voice softening – “but
it was all a lie. You– I lost my best friend, all because I was so blinded by this long-term lie.”
He marched to his car, his father on his tail. They stopped at the driver’s door when his father said, “Mingyu, you
had a choice!”
“Yeah, and that choice was to either go on with my life as it was, or fix things with the man who has yet to
apologize to my mom for leaving her without saying anything!”
Mingyu opened the door to his car, but it shut again when his father slammed it. “You can’t raise your voice like
that; I am your father–”
“Then why don’t you ever act like it, huh?” Mingyu laughed humorlessly, the voice of his younger-self rising from
the ashes in which he left them in two years ago. “I lived years not remembering who my dad was! I was constantly
told that you left for work, to support the family, but instead you were out here playing golf at some high-end
country club every weekend, drinking wine and enjoying all of this expensive crap that matters less than anything
else in the world! You chose wealth over your own family, dad! You think that after I forgave you for leaving me,
you’re forgiven for leaving mom for all of that?” His father remained silent, and Mingyu’s fists clenched. “Screw
it. I’m staying with mom again, because I don’t need to be lied to anymore.”
Mingyu gave his father one last look as he opened his car door again. Before he could close it, his dad said, like it
mattered, “I gave your mother all the money she needed to take care of you and your brother.”
 But that’s all it ever was with him: Money, luxury and popularity amongst the people who lived the same lifestyle.
There was no room for family in his life; the only time he ever made room for it was when he realized looking like
a family man could build his character and impress his peers. Unfortunately for him, he did a shit job at being a
good father.
Disappointed, Mingyu looked at his father in the eye, tears glazing over them as he clearly said, “You didn't give
her love and support, though, and that’s what she needed most.”
Then Mingyu turned on the ignition, buckled his seatbelt and drove home, where his mother and brother were
waiting for him.

26
March 28th, 2014
You can get an idea from anywhere, Mingyu believes, and it’s true. He once had this idea – one that was completely
and unmistakably insane – to try cliff jumping with Wonwoo and his other friends over spring break. Everyone was
up for it; within just a few hours, they’d already stored cans of flavored iced tea in coolers and packed extra clothes.
But contrary to everyone else, Wonwoo was Wonwoo, which meant he objected with a thousand no’s and a whiny,
“There’s no way in hell I’ll jump off a goddamn cliff with the likely chances of dying.” As always, Mingyu somehow
convinced Wonwoo to join, and there he was: Sitting in the driver’s seat of his truck with the rest of his friends either
in the trunk or right beside him.
Aside from the sweat that made his skin feel sticky, Wonwoo didn’t get an ounce of water on him. He watched as
Junhui, Seokmin, Jihye and Minghao leaped off the cliff and landed in the water, their heads peeking out seconds
later to squeal and holler. They were all soaked, and the only people left were Mingyu and Wonwoo.
“Come on,” Mingyu pleaded, literally begging on his knees in front of the rock Wonwoo was sitting on, “I know
you’ll love this!”
Wonwoo shook his head stubbornly. “Go on; jump off the cliff. I’ll meet you down at the beach after.”
“I won’t feel the thrill and excitement if you don’t do it, too,” Mingyu whined, pouting. Wonwoo shook his head
again. “Yah, you’re still a party pooper, huh?”
Wonwoo scoffed. “Are you seriously pulling the ‘no fun’ card on me right now?”
“I’m just saying: Fun people do fun things; they don't sunbathe on rocks.”
“Fine,” Wonwoo uttered, “you want fun? I’ll show you fun.” He got up and, in desperation to prove that he
definitely wasn’t a party pooper, removed his shirt in one go. Mingyu’s eyes widened at the sudden boldness in
Wonwoo’s actions, but there was no way he’d complain; Wonwoo had a surprisingly hot body. “I’m the life of the
party!”
Without warning, Wonwoo ran and leaped off the surface, half naked in mid air. Mingyu shrieked and ran to the
edge, looking down at the water once Wonwoo was hidden somewhere under it. Seconds had passed and Wonwoo
should’ve resurfaced, but there was no sign of him. Then, like a call for help, Wonwoo’s skin glimmered in the
afternoon sunlight, and Mingyu jumped with no hesitation whatsoever.
Mingyu quickly cocked his head out the water and spun around in search of Wonwoo’s body. He saw water, rocks,
more rocks and more water, but no sign of Wonwoo. He called out his name, eyes still scanning the lake for his
best friend. Then, after seeing bubbles arise from the water a few feet away, he swam over and found Wonwoo’s
body.
“Dude?” Mingyu patted Wonwoo’s face, worry in his eyes. “Yah, Jeon Wonwoo!” Wonwoo didn’t respond. “You
stupid little– AGH! You aren’t supposed to jump like that!”
Slinging Wonwoo’s arm around his shoulders, Mingyu helped him out the water. Their friends crowded around
them once Mingyu reached the shore, all asking what happened.
While carefully setting Wonwoo on the bed of rounded pebbles and moist sand, Mingyu responded, “He just
jumped and didn't swim back!” He leaned down, his ear brushing against Wonwoo’s lips for a second. He didn’t
hear nor feel any signs of breathing. “He’s not breathing!”
 Junhui acted quickly and gave the idea, “Do mouth-to-mouth!”
Seokmin smacked the back of Junhui’s head, scolding him. “What the fuck,” he yelled. “This isn’t time for your
gay-boy kinks; stop being a creep!”
“What– No, it’s not like that!”
“But two guys doing mouth-to-mouth?!”
“It was just an idea!”
“A weird one!… Unless…”
Seokim glanced at Jihye, whose eyes widened the moment he and Junhui looked at her. She shook her head
rapidly. “Oh, no. No way. I have a boyfriend; my lips are not touching Wonwoo’s.”
As the three bickered and shouted, Mingyu realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere at that rate. With
droplets of water stuck to Wonwoo’s skin, Mingyu looked at his best friend, then down at his lips. They looked
soft, inviting and totally safe to kiss; everything Mingyu could possibly ask for before making lip-to-lip contact
with another person. Gulping, he leaned closer to close the gap between their lips. Just as they barely grazed the
latter’s, he felt a soft yet long breath hit his nose.
“That,” came a whisper from Wonwoo, and Mingyu choked on air in surprise, “was awesome.”
Seokmin, Jihye and Junhui shrieked, “You’re alive!” in unison, hands to their chests and leaning against each other
in relief. Wonwoo grinned and opened his eyes, laughing at his friends. Before he could notice the lack of space
between him and Mingyu, Mingyu jolted back and felt himself blush.
Wonwoo sat up, watching Mingyu with playful eyes. “Party pooper, you say?” he teased.
Mingyu rolled his eyes and shoved Wonwoo hard enough to make him fall sideways, and Wonwoo burst out
laughing. “Shut up! You gave me a freaking heart attack, you ass.” He scowled. “At least you're breathing.”
“I was awake this whole time,” Wonwoo confessed, biting his lip to hold back his laughter. “Did I scare you, Kim
Mingyu?”
“You wha– Dude! I was practically about to kiss you!” Wonwoo’s smile washed away, while everyone else’s
expressions transitioned to ones with teasing eyebrow raises and gut-eating smirks. Mingyu stiffened, cleared his
throat and laughed off the awkwardness. “But… I didn't, because you woke up and friends don’t… do that.”
There was a long pause that made Mingyu feel like he was being choked by air itself, and the looks on his friends’
faces weren’t helping. In the end, Wonwoo snorted from holding in his laughter, cuing the soft cackles from those
around them. As he shook his head, calling Mingyu ridiculous, there was a grin that stretched the corners of his
mouth and pushed his cheeks up. He rested his head on Mingyu’s shoulder, and that’s when the latter began to feel
the uneasiness in his stomach. It was then when he realized there was no way he could deny from his feelings
towards his best friend; he liked Wonwoo a lot.

May 7th, 2017

It’s quite unusual to get proposed to in the middle of a food court at one of the busiest shopping malls in the city, but
Mingyu saw it happen right in front of him as he ordered a strawberry banana smoothie. The whole ensemble was
grand; the man proposing had an arc of flowers over him and a red rug with scattered rose petals beneath his feet.
Outside the rug were silver stands that supported 4x4 pictures, and as the woman walked over the long line of red, a
catchy indie tune was playing on the food court speakers.
Mingyu watched it play out; however, once the woman answered her boyfriend with a loud yes, an idea appeared in
his mind. His eyes sparked, grin in place. With a curt, high-pitched squeak, he bolted past people to run to his table
where Seokmin and Jihye sat.
“Guysguysguys” – Mingyu slipped as he halted himself, but grabbed the table to stay up – “I think I found a way to
get Wonwoo back!”
 Seokmin and Jihye looked at Mingyu uncertainly. He had this painfully wide (but also scary) grin on his face,
accompanied by doe eyes that shone with all the ideas he had in mind. He bit his lip, still grinning, and flapped his
hands around to urge them to ask about the idea. Looking at Mingyu, they couldn't find it in them to tell him what
he didn't want to hear.
“What do you have planned?” Seokmin asked eventually, as Jihye reached in her purse for her phone. “It sounds…
big. And exciting. Very you, really.”
Mingyu’s teeth gritted as the excitement made his body feel tense, slapping the table and holding back his squeals.
Then he took a deep breath and said, “Phew, okay, so just now – literally like five seconds ago–there was this
proposal by the smoothie shack–”
“I saw,” Seokmin interrupted.
“–and the guy created this big, gigantic, colossal–”
“You’re starting to exaggerate, but I get your point.”
“–arc of flowers, which were probably her favorite, and he had that little gallery of pictures. He even played what I
think was her favorite song! Then he said, ‘I love you; will you marry me,’ and she said yes!”
“So your point is..?”
Mingyu slapped both sides of his face and pushed downward, dragging his skin to form a frown. “Isn’t it obvious?
That’s how I’ll get Wonwoo back! I’ll get all the things he loves, burn a disc with some songs that I recommend
and get our old pictures back from the tree house!”
Seokmin almost praised Mingyu for his idea, opening his mouth to say, “That isn’t really a bad idea,” but Jihye
interrupted, “But… what if this doesn't work?”
Mingyu blinked. It had to work, right? Wonwoo could only reject him so many times; he just had to accept his
apologies eventually. It was probably, what, over a year since they talked? His apology was late, mostly because he
never knew what to say or do, and he didn’t expect for Wonwoo to accept anything from him so easily. All Mingyu
knew was that he was never ever going to stop apologizing until Wonwoo forgave him.
“Yeah– no– I mean” – Mingyu shook his head – “it’ll work. I know it will.”
Jihye argued, “But how sure are you?”
“Listen, I know what I’m doing,” Mingyu said, full of determination and sureness, “and I know that I’ll get
Wonwoo back. I miss him, and I am shamelessly desperate for his forgiveness, and I need my best friend back.”
His chest puffed up as he sucked in a breath. “So I don’t need anyone or anything in my way, because life has just
been black and white ever since he said goodbye. I can’t just sit around and do nothing about it.”
From there, Seokmin and Jihye asked him to explain his plans. He went on and on, somehow leading to topics
about Wonwoo’s love for banana chips and wasabi peas and green tea Kit Kats. On a napkin, he wrote a list of
things he’d buy and make for Wonwoo; all the snacks he liked and things that reminded Mingyu of him. He didn't
seem like he’d ever stop talking, and it made his friends happy to know.
That afternoon, new hope arose for Wonwoo and Mingyu. Seokmin and Jihye saw their chances reappear right
before their eyes, and they couldn't have felt more relief wash over them. They knew that regardless of the time
they spent apart, they were still in love – still open to more chances.
“–and he also does this thing when he tries not to laugh – like, he bites his lip and smiles really wide and– Oh, my
smoothie’s ready!”
He left the table to pick up his smoothie, not noticing how Jihye recorded the whole thing on her phone. The
footage of him rambling had already been sent it to Wonwoo when he returned.

May 9th, 2017

Tuesday arrived quickly, commencing operation get-Wonwoo-back. Mingyu had plans – big ones, at that – and he
was determined to accomplish them; positive that they’d work in being with Wonwoo again. It was a weeklong
process that he had to be patient about.
Tuesday: The first and easiest day. He decided to use the emergency money from his piggy bank to buy whatever
he wanted to give to Wonwoo, emptying a third of the clay pig. The rest of the money was saved for his trip to
Wonwoo’s university, where he’d apologize and ask for forgiveness.
Wednesday to Sunday: Mingyu was going to be all over the city, looking for the small things he and Wonwoo
loved as kids. It was dangerous, mostly because a couple tasks involved the possibility of landing in jail if he were
to get caught. But he wasn’t scared; he knew everything would be okay.
Meanwhile, Jihye had plans of her own. She knew that whatever Mingyu was doing couldn’t be done alone, and
she took advantage of that opportunity by demanding to be his “scavenging partner” until the mission was
completed. He teased at first, saying things like, “Why? Do you still like me?” and “If you want to spend time with
me, you could’ve just said so, Ji,” but allowed her to join him anyway. Without her, Wonwoo wouldn’t have
accepted any apology whatsoever.
8:36 in the morning, or the ass crack of dawn for Jihye, and there they were, at the shopping district with a shoebox
of money and coupons. Jihye followed Mingyu around the mall, asking him a seemingly endless string of questions
relating to their “operation.” By the twentieth question (probably), Mingyu poked his finger in her mouth and she
spat it out.
“Gross!”
Mingyu wiped his finger on his sleeve and said, “Yah, stop talking.” He scowled. “You’ll pass out from using up
the air in your lungs.”
While wiping her mouth, Jihye asked, “Can you tell me where we’re going at least?”
Mingyu stopped walking, blocking Jihye’s way and making her bump into him. “Welcome” – He spun around,
arms stretched out to gesture at the pink and white sign above him – “to Tokyo Discount, where you can find hentai
posters, weeaboos and all things kawaii!”
At first glance, Jihye could already tell that Tokyo Discount was definitely something. The sign was cute; there was
a pink bunny chewing the letter T in “Tokyo” and the lowercase I in “Discount” was a carrot. Welcoming the
customers by the glass door was a cardboard cutout of a cross-dressed Sasuke, while numerous posters were
covering the windows, preventing those outside from seeing the interior. The overall appearance screamed, “I
LOVE ANIME,” and it was a store that definitely had no shame.
Jihye had an unsure look on her face. “Why the hell would Wonwoo want something from this place?”
“Three words: Cheap Rilakkuma plushies.”
Mingyu laughed at the way Jihye’s nose crinkled in disgust, then grabbed her wrist to lead her inside the shop. A
high-pitched ding! followed after they opened the door. Jihye’s eyes widened at the overwhelming, countless
number of stuffed toys and Hello Kitty backpacks. Anime action figures were locked and displayed in glass
cabinets, and the faint sound of Babymetal was playing at the front desk.
“This truly is weeaboo paradise,” Jihye whispered, half horrified and half impressed.
“Do you smell that?” Mingyu had his hands on his hips, sniffing the air. “That, my friend, is the smell of yaoi
manga, Naruto headbands and Gudetama stationary. But you know what I don’t smell?” He leaned close enough
for their noses to touch, and Jihye backed away. “Rilakkuma plushies.”
“What do those even smell– OW!”
Mingyu stood up straight, his chin hitting Jihye’s forehead in the process. He looked at the counter, where a lanky
man with an oily ponytail had his back turned away from the two. “Excuse me sir! Do you happen to have any
giant Rilakkuma dolls?”
“Huh?” The man looked over his shoulder. “Oh! Yes, they’re in the back; let me go get one for you.”
As the cashier walked away with his head down, stiff and fast, Mingyu watched him enter the storage room with
furrowed eyebrows. Why did that man seem so familiar? Mingyu didn’t know many people with greasy ponytails,
but he was so sure that he’d seen that person at one point of his life before that day; he just couldn't point out when
or where.
At the time that Jihye began running her forehead to ease the dull pain, she noticed Mingyu’s curiosity towards the
cashier and asked, “What’s wrong? Do you know him?”
“Not sure,” came his answer, “but he seems familiar… I just don’t know why. Did we ever go to school with any
guys who had ponytails?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Anyone who’d eventually have one?”
“Well, there was that Hoon guy from student council and Hanwoo from your class. Do those count?”
Mingyu shook his head. “No, they both moved out of state for college, and Hanwoo’s a waiter now.”
“Then I don’t know.” Jihye glanced around and began walking away. “Tell me when you’re done; I’m going to
walk around.”
With her back facing Mingyu, he saluted her and moved his gaze back to the storage closet door, waiting for the
cashier to return. As he waited, he looked over the shelves of Japanese candy. Everything was in Japanese – no
translation at all – so he only grabbed what he was familiar with: Green tea Kit Kats and Pocky. Not for himself,
but for Wonwoo instead.
The cashier was back by the time Mingyu had placed his items on the front desk, but acted rather odd. Strangely,
the cashier covered his face with the stuffed Rilakkuma and didn't seem like he was going to move it away.
“Will that be all for you?” he asked.
It was like talking to a Rilakkuma plush, and only the Rilakkuma plush, really. Calling the cashier out, Mingyu
said, “Shouldn't you show your face when ringing up a customer?”
“Oh” – The cashier slowly moved the stuffed toy away from his face, chuckling sheepishly – “s-sorry.”
Mingyu laughed as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. “I was just ki– Holy fucking shit.” His laughter
drifted away and he dropped his smile. He could recognize the cashier’s face anywhere. “CHOI YEJOON?”
“PLEASE DON’T FIGHT ME AGAIN! I ALREADY LEARNED MY LESSON!”
Jihye walked to the register and stood beside Mingyu when he said, “What, no– I’m not going to fight you. Don’t
be paranoid.”
“Why does he think you’ll fight him?” Jihye murmured to Mingyu.
“I, uh” – Mingyu looked at Jihye with an awkward grin – “kicked his ass back in high school.”
It took a moment for Jihye to process his words before she slammed the glass case and stared at Yejoon, eye-to-
eye, yelling, “YAH! YOU’RE THE PUNK WHO TOUCHED MY BUTT!”
Yejoon flinched back, holding up the Rilakkuma plush in front of his face for protection. “I’m sorry!” he shrieked.
“I was an asshole and I deserve any punishment! Just… not one that’ll cause me to bleed, please.”
Mumbling nonsense, Jihye raised her fist to punch Yejoon, but Mingyu stopped her. “That was already taken care
of when we fought,” he grunted, struggling to hold Jihye back, “so forget it. Just let us pay for our stuff and we’ll
be on our way.”
From there, Yejoon scanned their items and watched them leave, wincing when Jihye glared daggers at him before
exiting the shop. Ironic how a guy, who had this bad boy image and walked around with his head up his ass, ended
 up being a cashier at an anime store. Some part of Mingyu made him feel proud to know that Yejoon got what he
deserved, but another part of him pitied what he had become.

May 16th, 2017

Another day, another job interview failed. Wonwoo had been looking for a place to work at for weeks, and within
those weeks, he also had to deal with Jihye’s daily text messages simultaneously. He loved talking to Jihye, honest,
but when those talks only consisted of videos of Mingyu, he enjoyed it a lot less. Every day between noon and
sundown, she’d send a new video without any context whatsoever, like he had to watch them in order to know what
they were for.
He was fine. Even though Jihye was always reminding him that Mingyu existed by sending him those videos, it
didn’t make him feel less happy. Sure, there were times – all the time, actually – when he'd look back at the old
days and feel nostalgia apply all of its weight on his chest, but it wasn't like before. With time, the depression and
longing went away, and Wonwoo was finally okay.
If he were still in Japan, studying and speaking the basics of its language, then he probably wouldn't have had those
videos sent to him. The program he took part in had a dumb, caveman goal of not using handheld devices that
semester; their motto: Disconnect to connect. Nobody texted him while he was away as he only accepted emails
and postcards from people. He didn’t miss that part of his time in Japan, but Jihye was starting to make him.
Upon returning to his shared apartment that evening and seeing another video in his notifications, he sighed and
looked down. His door creaked. A head of soft pink hair peeked through the crack between the door and the frame,
and Wonwoo already knew it was Jihoon. Wonwoo tried not to acknowledge his presence.
“Are you okay?” Jihoon asked carefully, sitting beside him. Wonwoo shook his head, and Jihoon glanced down at
his roommate’s phone, stiffening when he saw Mingyu’s face on the screen. “Oh, shit.”
Wonwoo put his phone down then hid his face in his hands. “My friend Jihye’s been sending me videos of him
since Wednesday,” he whispered, stressed, “and I haven’t watched a single one.” Jihoon leaned over to rub
Wownoo’s back comfortingly. “It’s been months, Jihoon; he can’t just come back after I’ve already forgotten about
him.”
Jihoon shook his head and rested his chin on Wonwoo’s shoulder, murmuring, “Don’t lie to yourself; I know you
haven't stopped thinking about him, even after so long.” He smirked when Wonwoo sighed. “Am I right?”
“You’re right.”
“I always am.”
“But” – Wonwoo moved his hands away, wiping his face in the process, and then looked over at his phone – “why
is she sending these to me?”
Shrugging, Jihoon sat straight and got up. “I don't know,” he replied, chuckling when Wonwoo glared at him for
not being any help. He patted his roommate's head before exiting the room, “but I guess you’ll just have to watch
them to find out.”
Unable to protest after Jihoon had left the room, Wonwoo sat in dim lighting and stared at his phone in
contemplation. He grabbed it, telling himself it was out of curiosity, then watched the first video. Then the next.
Then the one after. Then, eventually, all the videos Jihye had sent him.
“So” – Jihye’s voice could be heard, but her face was elsewhere, out of the frame – “do you have feelings for
Wonwoo?”
Mingyu nodded, loading his car with a few groceries he’d bought. “Of course I do.”
“But, do you love him?”
Wonwoo paused the video. It stopped at a frame in which Mingyu looked away to think, his side view visible to the
screen. Wonwoo felt his stomach tighten in anticipation, preparing to hear Mingyu’s answer. Taking a deep breath,
he pressed play and listened carefully. When Mingyu smiled, he smiled too, because he answered, “Now that you
 mention it, I think I do. I think my feelings for him are realer than the feelings I’ve had for anyone else. It’s a
shame that I didn’t realize it before; then we could've been together.”

May 17th, 2017

Dedication can often be mistaken for obsession, and vice versa. How to tell the difference? While dedication means
to do something whole heartedly and with earnesty, obsession is when that thing – a plan, in Mingyu’s case – is the
only thing occupying one’s mind. If he were dedicated to earning Wonwoo back, it’d mean Mingyu chose to invest
himself in the project at hand. That wasn’t the case.
Mingyu’s plans to get Wonwoo back soon became something that was more than just dedication, yet less than an
unhealthy obsession. He drew a thin line between the two – a line that could tear at any moment – which worried
his friends and family. Getting Wonwoo back was his number one priority, and everything else came after that,
including eating and sleeping. His usual intake of three to four meals a day dropped to one, somedays nothing but
water or a small snack. Just like Wonwoo before, Mingyu lost so much sleep that he’d get migraines whenever he
stood up.
Seungcheol and his mother took turns in checking up on him everyday, bringing in full plates of food and walking
out with nothing touched from previous meals. If he wasn’t out checking things off his list with Jihye, he was in his
room, filling in his daily log of thoughts, wishes and progress.

Day 1
yejoon’s a cashier at an anime store now, apparently. it was kind of sad to
see him turn out like that, but he seems content with what he has. that’s what
matters. i hope you’re content w/ what you currently have.

Day 2
forgive me, if what i’m doing is wrong, wonwoo. it feels as if i’m trying to
bribe you into my arms, but i don’t know what else to do. i feel as if an
apology isn’t enough.

Day 8
i went to the western gardens to pick flowers for you, but i only managed to
get a couple because the police caught jihye and i. i hope this is enough. it’s
just a daisy and a dandelion.

While taping the daisy to the pages of his journal, Seungcheol barged in, out of breath. Mingyu acknowledged his
brother with a simple, “Hey,” and continued taping.
“Mingyu, you have to take a break; come with Minsuh and I to drink hot chocolate and get some sleep afterwards,
yeah?” He put his hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, but the younger shrugged it off. “Mingyu.”
“I’m okay,” he replied, uninterested, “so please leave.”
Seungcheol grabbed Mingyu’s shoulders, forcing him to look up. “Mingyu, Wonwoo isn’t even coming back until
August; you have time!” Mingyu turned to face his desk again. “Look out your window. See that? That’s Minsuh,
and she’s worried sick about you. Do her a favor and take a break for once so she doesn’t have to worry.”
Mingyu grabbed his pen again to write. “Just tell her I’m okay, hyung; she’ll understand.”
“I’m trying to help you!”
“Okay, but did I ever ask for your help? No, so just leave.”
“Gyu–”
“What else do you want?”
Seungcheol grabbed a pillow off of Mingyu’s bed in frustration, hitting the back of his brother’s head, but received
no reaction. So he hit again, and again, and again, until Mingyu finally stood up, stole the pillow from his hands
and threw it back on the bed. “STOP IT, HYUNG!” he yelled. “CAN YOU GET OUT? PLEASE?” Seungcheol
denied Mingyu’s request, but the younger sat down again anyway, writing.
Never had Seungcheol ever been so angry and frustrated, especially towards his brother. In a state like this, all he
wanted was for Mingyu to realize that his well-being was much more important than mending the bruises in his and
Wonwoo’s relationship. He didn’t know what else to do though, because Mingyu had never acted like this. Mingyu
was always too happy – carefree – to ever turn out this way. What else could Seungcheol do when Mingyu refused
to cooperate?
“Can you stop writing in that fucking notebook and listen to me?” Mingyu ignored his brother and continued to
write. Seungcheol grabbed the journal and snatched it away. “You still have three months!”
“No, hyung,” Mingyu interrupted, roughly shoving Seungcheol to the bed and taking his journal back, “you don't
understand; I have to do this!”
“I do understand, but you’re overreacting!”
“Overreacting? You’re kidding, right?” Mingyu let out a dry laugh as he slammed the journal on his desk. “I LOST
MY BEST FRIEND! I’m doing the best I can to get him back, and you’re saying I’m overreacting?” Seungcheol
remained quiet. “Okay, fine. Swap feelings with me then. Give me your happiness so you can see how it feels to
feel the way I do. Take my heartache away, because I would love to be as happy as you are, with your amazing
college life and new job.”
Again, Seungcheol had no answer, and Mingyu knew that. He looked into his brother’s eyes and saw the countless
apologies written over them, repeating the word “sorry” as his voice wouldn't do justice. With his point across,
Mingyu turned away and continued whatever he did.
By the time Mingyu dropped his pencil and turned on his laptop, Seungcheol was able to ask, “Why did you have
to fall for Wonwoo? I don’t understand why you’re going through all this, just so he can forgive you.”
Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip. “Hyung, have you ever loved someone so much that you’d risk anything for
them?”
Seungcheol looked out the window. Minsuh was still sitting on the bench, knees crossed as she patiently waited for
him. But while looking at her, watching her sit and breathe a wall’s away, he didn’t see a woman with a degree in
physics; he only saw the Minsuh he met ten years ago, wild hair and sparkling eyes. Then when she looked through
the window and met Seungcheol’s eyes, smiling, he suddenly felt fourteen again. He saw his first love and best
friend all at once in one, loving glance.
“Yes,” he murmured, “I have.”
“Then let me do what I need to do.” There was a heartbeat. “Please, that’s all I’m asking.”
Seungcheol sighed. “Fine,” he said, “but are you sure you're okay?”
“I’m sure.”
“But what if something doesn’t go as planned?”
Mingyu’s attention was fully on Seungcheol by then. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know” – Seungcheol began to use his hands to explain – “like, what if you don’t even see him in person? Or
what if he doesn’t accept this? Or what if he moved on?” He shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don't know.
Basically what I’m saying is: Are you prepared for all the possibilities?”
Mingyu stared at Seungcheol for longer than just a moment, thoughts and apprehension appearing in his mind.
Seungcheol’s words, “All the possibilities,” got Mingyu to think – but too much thinking in such little time made
his thoughts take a dark turn. There were too many possibilities; Mingyu didn’t know if he could prepare for every
single one.
 There was one idea, his most outrageous one yet, in which he was able to do in that room, right then and there. He
already had everything he needed, spare the Polaroid pictures, and that made his idea even easier to do. Thinking it
was unlikely of him to ever use this plan, Mingyu almost dropped it – but he wanted Wonwoo’s forgiveness; he
needed Wonwoo to fall in love with him again. In order to achieve that forgiveness and love, he had to make a
choice: Stick to one plan that could fail, or make multiple. He chose the latter option.
He told Seungcheol, “I am. Please leave so I can get things together.” Then when Seungcheol was out the door,
downstairs and then out the house, Mingyu turned back to his computer, waiting. He waited for the right moment to
press record, his nerves gnawing his insides. He waited for the right words to meet his tongue. He waited for the
nervousness to settle down.
Are you prepared for all the possibilities?
Giving it thought, he finally decided: Yes, I am.
So when his fingers brushed over the touchpad, guiding the cursor over the red circle, he took a deep breath. For
Wonwoo, he told himself.
Click.
“My name is Kim Mingyu” – He smiled at the webcam – “and you are Jeon Wonwoo. We're best friends, or at
least we used to be.”

27
August 20th, 2017
“Shit.”
Wonwoo hissed as bright red started collecting on his index finger. The sharp pain piercing his skin was bearable,
but hurt like a bitch nonetheless. Glancing back to check if any blood got on the vinyl case he was previously
holding, he inwardly sighed in relief when it appeared unharmed. The last thing he wanted was to have his boss
fuss over his cut, so Wonwoo raised his finger to his lips and sucked the blood away, the faint taste of copper and
salt mixing with his saliva.
“You should go get that cleaned up.”
He looked up, seeing Jihoon lean over the glass counter built on the other side of the room. Jihoon was wiping the
countertop, focusing on one spot that had dried smudges of ice cream, which were left by a kid the day before. As
he rubbed a damp rag over the surface, his hair shook and his lips tightened. Wonwoo dabbed his finger on the hem
of his shirt, a splotch of blood staining the sewn lining. “I’ll be fine. I clock out in ten, anyway.”
“If boss sees, she’ll freak.”
“It’s just a paper cut.”
“Wonwoo-ssi” – Jihoon stopped cleaning and looked at his roommate through his shaggy, pink fringe – “I get that
you haven’t worked here for very long, but you need to understand that you can’t work when you’re injured; even
if it’s just a paper cut.”
Wonwoo looked at his co-worker hesitantly, biting his lip before sorting the vinyls again. “Like I said: I’ll be fine.
I’ll get a band aid when I leave.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes as he turned around and started rummaging for the first aid kit, mumbling, “I fucking hate
newbies.”
After finding the box and taking a band-aid from it, he swerved around the counter and walked up to Wonwoo. The
latter nudged him away, but Jihoon used the opportunity to grab his arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Peeling the seals off with his teeth, Jihoon allowed the waxy paper to fall on the floor. “Shut up,” he uttered while
sticking the band aid to Wonwoo’s finger, “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Being nice doesn’t suit your demonic personality.”
“Very professional.” Jihoon faked a smile. “At least I’m making you comfortable.”
Just then, Joshua opened the door to the shop with his neck slicked in sweat and hair swept away from his face. He
grabbed a cold water bottle from the mini fridge as he walked to Wonwoo and Jihoon, opening it once he was close
to them.
“You’re holding Wonwoo’s hand.” He downed half the water bottle quickly, then twisted the cap back on. “Did
Jihoon finally propose?”
Jihoon let go of Wonwoo’s hand and returned to the counter. “He wishes I did.”
“I don’t think I want to be proposed to by a bag of cotton candy on legs.” They made mocking noises at each other,
and Wonwoo turned to Jisoo when the teasing ended. “Dude, you look like you were lubricated from the head,
down. What’s with all the sweat?”
“It feels like satan farted outside, and I had to walk here by foot because I missed the bus. And you? Why was
strawberry shortcake holding your hand?”
Wonwoo held up his bandaged finger. “Paper cut.”
“You couldn’t do it yourself?”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for it. Shorty was trying to be nice.”
“Okay, I get it; I’m pink and short.” Jihoon rolled his eyes at Wonwoo and Jisoo’s smug faces, grabbing his rag and
rubbing it over the glass again. “Enough with the nicknames already.”
“Payback for all the times you called me Pickle Dickle in front of my girlfriend,” Jisoo bit back.
“Your penis looks like a pickle!”
“No it does not!”
“Oh, yeah? Check the mirror.”
Wonwoo cackled as he watched his friends argue, but once he realized something, it died off. “Wait,” he
interrupted, “how do you know what his penis looks like?”
Jihoon grinned, ignoring how Jisoo pressed his finger to his lips and the many times he told the younger to shut up.
“Ah, you see–” He was cut off when Jisoo threw his water bottle at him, hitting his shoulder after it flew across the
room. “OW!”
“Shut up!”
“It’s just Wonwoo!”
“Still!”
Jihoon chucked the water bottle back – “Don’t throw it back, you demon!” came Jisoo’s exclaim when it hit him
square in the gut – and told Wonwoo, “He forgot to lock the door while taking a shower that one time he slept over
our place, so I walked in and bam – there it was. Pickle Dickle.”
“My penis doesn’t look like a pickle, I swear,” Jisoo groaned. He handed Wonwoo a dollar to pay for his water
bottle. “By the way, do you have a clean rag I can use to wipe off my sweat?”
Wonwoo nodded as he took the money. “Yeah– Hey, Ji! Rag me!” He held his hand up to catch the rag Jihoon
tossed, giving it to Jisoo once it was in his grasp. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything for you Pickle Dickle.”
Jisoo smacked Wonwoo’s arm with the rag, and although he was cursing at the latter for using his hated nickname,
all Wonwoo could hear was the echo of his and Jihoon’s laughter fill the space.

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Mingyu had never properly thanked Jihye for all she had done for him in the past few months they spent together as
friends and mission partners. If it weren't for her, he would have already apologized to Wonwoo, which wasn't a good
thing because apologizing so soon would’ve been bad timing. Wonwoo was too busy with finding a good job and
balancing that with school to talk to Mingyu, and things wouldn't have ended as they had hoped. After telling that to
Mingyu, she managed to convince him to wait until Wonwoo came to visit in August, and that plan stuck to them
ever since.
Because they waited so long, the rest of their plans were on hold until a couple days before Wonwoo’s arrival. All
there was left to do was place an order for the bouquet of flowers he was going to give and get the pictures from the
tree house. Despite how there was little left to do, however, Mingyu knew none of it was going to be easy. The
closest flower shop was about eight miles away, maybe more, and was always booked with orders for weddings
and other special occasions, so it’d take a lot of convincing for Mingyu to get the flowers. As for the tree house, he
wasn’t sure what to expect. He hadn’t been there in so long; he was afraid of going inside and meeting his past
once again.
In the morning, Jihye drove Mingyu to the flower shop. They walked in, immediately heading for the counter once
they were inside. The florist – a young girl at around sixteen years old – glanced at them as she sprayed the plants
with a pink spray bottle, then looked away again. They waited, but received no assistance.
“Excuse me,” Jihye said politely, “we’d like to place an order.”
The florist only nodded.
“Uh, we’d like to order a bouquet of roses… if there are any available…”
The florist nodded again.
“Is she ignoring us on purpose?” Mingyu whispered to Jihye. “Maybe she’s deaf?”
“I can hear you just fine,” said the girl, and Mingyu flinched in surprise.
She put her spray bottle down and reached for the back of her head to tie her hair up, still not acknowledging their
requests. Jihye had imaginary flames burning her eyes as she glared at the high school student, ready to slam the
counter with her thin hands. Fortunately, Mingyu was able to stop her when he saw the “Ring to place an order”
sign on the register and tapped the small, silver bell once. After a ding, there was a smile on the florist’s face as she
turned to them, and Jihye had to hold back everything in her to fight off the urge to punch the kid.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
Mingyu smiled down at Jihye, looking at her with a “See, you just gotta be friendly,” type of look – an eye roll, she
responded with – and told the florist, “We’d like to place an order for a thing of roses delivered on the twenty-
second.”
“That’s Tuesday.”
“Yes.”
“Which is in two days.”
“Y-yes…”
The girl looked completely nonchalant as she flat out said, “No.” Jihye clenched her fists as the girl pointed at a
laminated sheet that was taped to the counter. “Look, it says to place in special orders a week beforehand. My
advice: Buy a bunch of flowers now and keep them in a vase until Tuesday comes.”
Mingyu shook his head. “No, I needed them to look a specific way and–”
“I’m sorry, sir, but” – The florist shrugged – “that’s just how it is. A week; no exceptions. If you need flowers that
fast, you should either go somewhere else or stick to what’s around you.”
The former option seduced his interests a lot more than the latter, but the city lacked in flower shops and the second
closest place he could go to was up north, an area that had abused roads and police officers on duty at every corner.
In addition to that, the flower shop in the northside had always done a sloppy job at perfecting orders. All he could
do, really, was follow the florist’s second suggestion of buying a standard bouquet.
“Fine,” Mingyu sighed, placing his hands on Jihye’s shoulders to turn her around, “we’ll look around for some
stuff.”
While roaming the shop for a pretty set of flowers – “One that really reminds you of Wonwoo,” Mingyu told Jihye
– time seemed to have sped up and it was eventually a little past noon, and the sun went from behind the clouds, to
alone on a sheet of blue. Jihye was on a nonstop rant towards how poor the flower shop’s service was, giving
Mingyu a headache that gradually intensified the more she spoke. Since the flower shop was a big place with a
greenhouse and standard flower display room, it made their search take longer than they initially wanted it to. It
was like there wasn't any flower that matched Wonwoo at all.
In the display room, Mingyu was looking closely at a set of flowers that mixed hues of purple, yellow and pink.
They were chopped short, but the stems were thick. Nothing of them reminded him of Wonwoo, in all honesty. The
colors were too bold to resemble his personality, and he was never a fan of bright colors anyway; he liked muted
ones.
“Maybe we should skip the flowers and eat,” Jihye said from behind him. “I’m starving.”
“Just five more minutes.”
After a tired sigh, Jihye mumbled something and allowed Mingyu to scan the store a while longer. As she sat down
at a picnic table, waiting, Mingyu stalked to the back section where there were smaller flowers planted in small
pots of crumbly dirt. They were simpler, less flashy, but they were better than nothing. Just when he thought he’d
give up, his eyes caught a glimpse of a pot of white daisies that were tucked away behind vibrant blue petals. Upon
seeing it, he felt his shoulders become lighter as relief lifted away the tension weighing him down.
He grabbed the pot and held it up to stare at the daisies, smiling. He didn't know what it was – the color, the size or
whatever else – but simply holding the pot made him feel like Wonwoo was there with him. With that feeling
settled in his senses, he knew that he had definitely found the right flower.
Jihye questioned the flower choice when she saw Mingyu walking towards her with it, but she couldn’t dare say
anything about it if he was smiling so widely. Going along with it, she smiled with him and paid for it at the
counter.
“Where to now?” she asked Mingyu, unlocking the door to her smartcar.
Mingyu held the pot closer to his torso as he sat in the passenger seat, slouching a little because of how small the
vehicle was. “SkinnyFATS?” he replied, suggesting the new restaurant that had just opened a month before.
Apart from that time her boyfriend asked her out to prom, she had never shouted “YES!” to anything faster in her
entire life.
 ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ·̇ ̇

If there was anything Lee Jihoon hated more than playing a piano with a key that didn't work, it’d be skinship.
Unfortunately for him, it was everywhere; at the park, on campus, sometimes at home and on TV. Wonwoo had told
him countless times that skinship was okay when done appropriately, but Jihoon disagreed. Touching made him feel
icky. And out of everything he could possibly hate in the world, skinship was something he could never get rid of.
Exhibit A: Jisoo and his girlfriend.
Under his breath, Jihoon said, “This is disgusting.”
And Wonwoo responded with, “I think it’s kind of cute.”
The couple was uncomfortably close to each other (to Jihoon, they were, at least) and was trading little pecks as
they repeated “goodbye” more than a thousand times. Jisoo’s girlfriend was crying, and if it were her first time
shedding tears for him, Jihoon would’ve felt remorse for the couple. But she did that every – single – time he left
for vacation. Jihoon was immensely annoyed by it, yet he couldn’t tears his eyes away from the two.
“Shit, I feel weird,” he mindlessly admitted.
Wonwoo looked down at his roommate. “Like..?”
“Like” – Jihoon rubbed his chest, his face souring – “I can feel something pulling my chest and it kinda tickles, but
hurts at the same time. It’s gross.”
Wonwoo laughed and patted him on the back, moving his hands to rub Jihoon’s shoulders. “That, my little
shortcake, is a tragic feeling called longing. Admit it: You wish you were in a relationship like Jisoo.”
“N–” Jihoon’s words were chopped when he gave Jisoo and his girlfriend another glimpse, then realized that, yeah;
he kind of did wish he were in a relationship. Flustered, he tried to jab Wonwoo in the gut, but missed as his
roommate flinched back and ran away, cackling. “I HATE YOU, JEON WONWOO!”
Turning and running backwards, Wonwoo used his arms to form a large heart, yelling, “LOVE YOU, LEE!”
Jihoon leaped and chased after Wonwoo through the park’s soccer field, determined to tackle his roommate to the
ground. He swerved around children, kicked a soccer ball that was in his way and finally collided with Wonwoo’s
body. They fell simultaneously, Jihoon’s chest landing on the other’s back, and wrestled; hands shoving each
other’s faces, their bodies rolling in the grass.
With Jihoon’s hands covering his eyes, Wonwoo’s vision was blocked and his hands were guided blindly, until his
ring finger went in his friend’s nostrils. Jihoon slapped Wonwoo’s hand away. “Ow, that’s my nose!”
“Sorry!”
“I still hate you!”
“Not my fault you want someone to love!”
“Oh, my God– Shut up!”
Above them, someone cleared their throat. The roommates halted their fighting – Jihoon’s thumb pressed down on
Wonwoo’s eye and the palm of Wonwoo’s hand squishing the latter’s cheek to keep him away – and looked up.
Jisoo, with his girlfriend next to him and smiling sweetly, had a look that practically begged for his friends to
behave.
“Guys,” he whisper-shouted, “stop it!”
Jihoon huffed, a strand of hair flying away from his forehead, and rolled off Wonwoo’s body. “Fine,” they
grumbled in unison.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” Wonwoo said, grinning mischievously, “Pickle Dickle.”
Jisoo’s girlfriend pursed her lips and covered her mouth to hide her laughter, unlike Jihoon, who was proud of how
loud he was being. Jisoo quickly covered her ears and told them, “Don’t use that nickname around her!”
Jihoon smirked. “Bet you can’t say Pickle Dickle ten times without messing up.”
A beat. Then, once Wonwoo had filled his lungs with air, he rapidly repeated,
“Pickledicklepickledicklepickledickle,” until his words slurred and Jisoo fell to the floor in embarrassment.

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“My boyfriend’s been talking about marriage,” Jihye mentioned, while sipping her smoothie.
Mingyu looked down at her, noticing the worry on her face. He knew she loved her boyfriend – she had said it
enough times for Mingyu to not forget – but this was different. She was hesitant, a bit anxious and confused.
“Do you want to marry him?” he asked.
She played with her straw between her fingers. “I just turned twenty-one this year, Gyu. I don’t think I’m in any
position to get married now.”
“I didn’t ask if you were ready,” he said, laughing a little, “I asked if you wanted to marry him.”
Jihye shrugged, pouting a little as she looked down at her smoothie. “Kind of,” she murmured, “but I feel like I’m
speaking too soon by saying this. We’ve been together since senior year, but the thought of having a forever with
him makes me really nervous.”
“A forever?” questioned Mingyu, his tone urging her to go on. He turned around and started walking backwards.
“Yeah, you don't know what that is?” Jihye’s eyebrows drew closer when Mingyu shook his head. “It’s kind of like
commitment.” She pursed her lips. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, because I really do love him. I’m just afraid
because a lot of marriages end in divorce these days.”
Mingyu slowed his pace, a subtle frown forming on his lips. Then, in efforts to comforting her, he put his arm
around Jihye and said, “Look at you, all grown up and making big choices.” He grinned when she laughed,
playfully shoving him off of her. “No matter what you choose to do, I know you’ll be doing the right thing. If it
turns out to be wrong, make it right.”
Jihye smiled. “You know, you’ve gotten a lot wiser over these past few months. I’m surprised.”
“Well” – Mingyu chuckled, biting his bottom lip as he looked down and pictured Wonwoo in his mind – “someone
taught me that it’s better to waste your breath on stuff like this, rather than lies and unkept promises.”
They talked endlessly until they reached the tree house. Just like the conversations Mingyu used to have with
Wonwoo, his and Jihye’s was aimless. Their topics jumped, their words tangled and their laughter mixed.
Standing before the tree house, Mingyu held his breath. It was like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
Unfortunately, looking at the one place he used to call his second home, he felt betrayal; not from the place itself,
but as if he disappointed the tree house single handedly. The guilt made him want to leave, but he’d reached that far
already; it was time to push forward and retrieve the pictures from the tree house.
“H-hey, Jihye?”
“Yeah?”
Mingyu pulled her in for a hug, his arms tight over her shoulders and his chin on top of her head. She stood still,
surprised by the gesture, and asked, “What’s this for…” And Mingyu simply replied, “Thank you.” So she let him
hug her, and they stayed like that for a time.
They finally pulled away when Jihye’s phone rang. She apologized as they parted, and then checked the caller ID.
Taking a few steps forward, away from Mingyu for some privacy, she answered the call. Mingyu watched her talk
on the phone, one arm crossed over her torso and pacing back and forth. She stopped moving when the call ended,
but looked at Mingyu apologetically as she put her phone away.
“I’m so sorry, Mingyu,” Jihye apologized, standing in front of him, “but Junhui has to work overtime today and
can’t pick up his little brother, so I have to do it.”
Mingyu’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach began to fold into itself as nervousness suddenly seeped in. He
couldn’t do this part alone. He felt that the tension of his surroundings was too off to trust. He needed Jihye to
assure that everything would be okay; but there she was, telling him that she couldn’t stay, and he didn’t know
what to do.
Rather than asking her to stay for at least five minutes more, he simply sent her a small smile and nodded. “I
understand,” he said, “I’ll be okay. I can call Seokmin to help me.”
There was this look, one of uncertainty, that passed Jihye’s face for a moment, but she managed to nod and reply,
“Okay then. Call me if anything goes wrong, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Tell Seokmin I said hi, too.”
“Okay.” Jihye turned to leave, but a second thought appeared in Mingyu’s mind. “Jihye, wait.” She looked at him
expectantly. “If anything happens, remember what I told you three months ago.”
Jihye frowned. “Mingyu–”
“Please.”
Jihye gave him one last, anxious stare before nodding and walking away, waving at Mingyu as she headed past the
trees and followed the dirt path that lead to the main road. Once she was out of sight, Mingyu called Seokmin,
asking him to take her place for an hour or so. Seokmin gladly accepted, and thus he was on his way.
While waiting for Seokmin, Mingyu used up his time to examine his surroundings. The familiarity of it gave
Mingyu a sense of reassurance as he reminisced over the moments that began to overcrowd his mind. To his left
was the lake, where he and Wonwoo often stood by to just talk – about anything and everything. The forest of trees
past the treehouse, which he was able to see from a distance, was home to all the fireflies that he saw on occasion.
The tree next to him, a tall one with waxy full-grown leaves sticking out from its branches, had a heart shaped
carving on it. “Rest in goose paradise, Albert ‘the goose’ Einstein,” it said, marking the day they found out their
beloved goose friend had died. He remembered the cattail sword fights they had, the time he tripped Wonwoo
while teaching him the basics of boxing, the nights they star gazed at times when the rest of the world was asleep,
the day he an Wonwoo kissed for the first time and so much more.
Mingyu never expected to experience so much at one little place. The tree house, their place of solace and countless
memories, then became so important in Mingyu’s eyes. This was the place in which he laughed, cried and fell in
love at; the place he owed so much to. It was a place of archived moments and idle futures.
Fifteen minutes of walking around the tree house and Seokmin hadn’t arrived. The light summer breeze was
becoming stronger, and eventually became strong enough to make the tree house’s bridge rock a little. Mingyu
knew walking across it would've been dangerous if he waited longer, so he stopped waiting and climbed up the
planks of the first trunk.
He used to change the planks annually to decrease the chances of falling, but the last time he changed them was
three to four years ago, which meant he was way overdue the exchange. Pushing away his alerting thoughts,
Mingyu continued to climb up. At the fourth plank, it cracked as he applied weight to it, and his breath hitched as
he caught himself from the close fall.
He was okay. Thank God.
The bridge, on the other hand, was a different story. It still rocked and shook; moved with the wind, to his misfortune.
But the wind was already getting stronger, and he had to muster up all the courage he could to make it to the other
side. So, taking a step forward, he crossed.

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Like she’d done months ago, Jihye sent Wonwoo another video of Mingyu. This time, he was eating across from her
at SkinnyFATS, stuffing his face with truffle fries and slurping cola from his cup.
Wonwoo smiled. He missed watching Mingyu stuff his hamster cheeks.
“Are you ready to see Wonwoo soon?” Jihye asked. Mingyu nodded, and the camera shook as she giggled. “On a
scale of one to ten?”
“Infinity,” he responded, fries muffling his words.
There was a long break as Mingyu finished his fries and took another sip of his drink. As he put his cup down,
Jihye said, “You really love Wonwoo, don’t you?”
And Mingyu smiled, squirmed in embarrassment and slouched to hide his face behind his cup. “I do,” he murmured
behind Jihye’s laughter.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’d do anything to get him to love me again.”
Again. The word repeated in Wonwoo’s mind as the video continued with Mingyu just stuffing food in his mouth.
All he could think was, how could he love someone again, if he was still in love with them?
Once the video ended, Jisoo returned to the living room with a lock to secure his luggage. “Are you ready for
another trip back home?” he asked Wonwoo, sighing as he was finally able to zip his luggage closed. When his
friend didn’t answer, he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”
Wonwoo kept his head down and stared at the linings of his hands. “Jihye says that Mingyu’s going to do
something for me when we get there,” he answered, “but I’m not sure if I could handle that.”
Jisoo patted his back, then rubbed in circles. “It’ll be okay, Wonwoo. You and Mingyu will work things out.”
“But what if I want to keep things as they are right now? What if I’m already happy like this?”
“You’re definitely happier, Wonwoo” – Jisoo stopped moving his hand but kept it on Wonwoo’s back, getting his
attention – “but not happy. I think he has a few things he wants to tell you.”
Wonwoo paused for a moment as tears welled in his eyes. “That he loves me?”
And Jisoo smiled, answering, “That he loves you.”

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When Mingyu was younger, he believed in eternal youth – or at least he didn't ever expect dying or being severely
ill. He told Wonwoo, “I think I’ll live forever,” – April 10, 2012 – and said that everything the sky offered, made
him believe that. But lately, despite it being summer, the skies had been a lot more monochrome than blue; less
lively and a lot deader. That day, however, the sun was finally shining after days of gloomy skies. The clouds were
bleached, the sun was awake and it was all painted on a blue canvas.
 With skies that alive and beautiful, Mingyu couldn't have wished for a better view to catch a glimpse of before
seeing nothing but spilled ink in his eyes.

Seokmin arrived at the same time Mingyu had reached the middle of the bridge. “Mingyu,” he shouted from the
ground, “are you sure that’s safe?”
No, I’m freaking terrified of falling. “Yeah, it’s fine! Just wait for me down there!”
Seokmin’s shoulders were tense as he watched Mingyu take slow, careful steps over the old, festering wood of the
bridge. He couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that something bad was going to happen, like someone was going
to end up getting hurt by the end of it all – and Mingyu felt the same thing. But Mingyu knew he didn’t have time
to finish his final mission the next day, and finishing the day after would’ve been too late. He had two choices:
Reach his goal, or leave everything as it was. His decision was clear.
He took another step forward, freezing when the wood creaked. Then, after taking a deep breath to calm down, he
skipped over it and took a big step closer to the tree house. Approximately three steps, and Mingyu would’ve been
inside. Just a few steps closer, and he would’ve been forgiven. A few steps closer, and his confession would’ve
went as planned. A few steps closer, and Wonwoo would’ve fallen in love with him again. A few steps closer, and
everything would’ve been okay.
But fate had other things in mind, and one wrong step changed everything.
Crack!
“NO! Mingyu!”

28
August 22nd, 2017
Waking up with a heavy heart and sore eyes isn’t the most ideal way to regain consciousness, but when Seungcheol
woke up that morning, that’s exactly how he felt. Tossed sideways, arms hugging his second pillow, he opened his
eyes and squinted. There was this painful numbness that made his muscles tense, grogginess and all things bitter
present inside him. There wasn’t an ounce of motivation that nudged him to start his daily routine. To put it simply,
he woke up sad.
As he blinked to clear his vision, he saw a shelf of action figures over a black desk and miniature paintings of
famous hip hop artists pinned to the wall, all signed Jeon Wonwoo in gold paint marker. A globe, a puppy calendar,
framed academic achievement awards – all things that didn’t belong to Seungcheol. A calming ripple of sunlight
leaked through the blinds and casted upon the ceiling, as if it were nature’s useless attempt at comforting him. But
he was in Mingyu’s room, he noticed, and that realization only made him want to go back to sleep and never wake
up again.
A weak whimper. Then, with memories from the day before reeling back in place, Seungcheol snuggled closely to
his brother’s pillow and cried away the regret that held a knife to his heart.

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The bus reeked.
Ten passengers, one smoker-slash-alcoholic, and a bus driver who was about ready to leave that passenger stranded
in the middle of somewhere, yet nowhere. A child, no older than nine years of age, ran her big mouth and
complained about the casino-like smell for hours, and her mother had already given up on shutting her mouth five
minutes in. That was two hours ago.
Jisoo thought that it was a miracle Wonwoo hadn’t passed out from the lung-filling smell of cigarette smoke yet;
but then again, Wonwoo was sleeping right next to him, head rested upon his shoulder for support, so maybe he did
pass out. Jisoo couldn’t sleep for more than half an hour, at least not as peacefully as Wonwoo could on the travel
bus, so he relaxed against the seat and listened to the radio news station. With a black facemask covering his
mouth, Jisoo peered out the window and watched as lands of greenery and farms were blurred by the speed of the
vehicle.
“This just in: Word on an untimely death, twenty year-old Kim Mingyu was reported to have fallen off the bridge of
a tree house in Blazing Oaks Park, Sunday evening. With severe head trauma, an urgent decompressive
craniectomy surgery had to be performed, but soon failed after Dr. Im Jaehyun’s assistant supposedly rigged his
surgical tools, injuring him on the job. Both doctors will be pressed charges, and are currently on suspension until
further notice. Now for the weather–”
Just then, the bus came to a halt as a cow crossed the road, but the sharp linings of the grass and the gravelly
texture of the highway were still blurred as Jisoo’s eyes welled with tears of sudden realization that his friend, Kim
Mingyu, was dead.

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At their final stop for gas, Jisoo woke Wonwoo up, refusing to look at his friend in the eye. “It’s time for a potty
break,” he mumbled, rising from his seat. Wonwoo rubbed his eyes and stretched before doing the same, stalking
Jisoo out the bus.

Jisoo was glad he missed his hair appointment last week, because his shaggy hair was covering his puffy eyes from
Wonwoo. Making his face visible would’ve lead to questions like, “Are you okay?” and “Why’re you crying?” from
his friend, which meant telling him the truth (because Jisoo was a shit liar), and he couldn’t break the news to
Wonwoo like that. He was in no place to tell his friend, especially since he barely knew why Mingyu was on that
bridge in the first place. This situation, it was something that had to be dealt with at home; not at a gas station built
on a farm. All he had hoped was that the Kim Mingyu on the news was a different man, who happened to be the same
age as his Kim Mingyu and coincidentally found the tree house.
He knew his hopes were unrealistic.
Wonwoo decided to skim the aisles of instant foods and snacks as he waited for Jisoo to finish using the restroom.
While debating between two bags of chips – honey butter or sour cream and onion – Wonwoo couldn’t shake off
his concern of Jihye not texting him for the past two days. He was waiting for something – anything – that notified
him about Mingyu’s “surprise” plan. He wanted to know if it was ready, or maybe watch a video of Mingyu before
the surprise.
When he checked for the nth time, there was nothing.
In fact, his iMessage was just a dry desert for the past couple days. Seokmin didn’t text him, Junhui didn’t text him,
Minghao didn't text him – not even Chan, who often sent small paragraphs that summarized his day. Out of
everyone, the only person who ever talked to him was Minsuh, but she refused to answer calls and only wanted to
communicate through text.
The weirdest thing about this was the phone call Wonwoo made just before his bus ride home. He called his father
to let him know that he was on his way, but the long break of silence before saying, “Can’t wait to see you,”
seemed of have replaced words that couldn’t reach his parent’s tongue. His father instead said, “I’ll see you soon,”
when Wonwoo asked if something was wrong.
As he paid for his chips – honey butter, he decided – the man at the register was watching the news on the TV built
over Wonwoo’s head. There was no sound, probably due to the possibility of disturbing the customers, so the
man’s eyes moved back and forth as he read subtitles. Wonwoo ignored.
(All the news ever reported was shitty political stuff that kind of didn't involve anything political at all, aside from
the president’s new life as, well, president. Other than that, the news only treated big matters as small ones, and
Wonwoo eventually realized that social media did a better job at covering real issues than any news station in the
country. The news meant nothing to him; thus, he ignored it.)
“Have you heard about the failed surgery at Summer Hospital?” he heard someone say behind him.
A hum, then another voice. “Can you believe the nurse rigged the tools so that the blade would cut Dr. Im’s hand?”
“I heard that instead of cutting his hand, the blade struck right through the patient's brain!”
Wonwoo winced. Finally, “Here’s your change, sir,” came from the cashier, and Wonwoo smiled uneasily in
thanks, taking his snacks and money.
He waited for Jisoo to finish using the restroom, his shoulder pressed against the wall as his eyes strayed down to
his phone. Because there was no signal, he used up his time by trying to beat his own high score in Bubble Pop.
The man at the counter continued to ring people up, half of his focus still on the TV, and his face fell upon seeing
the reported news.
TWENTY YEAR-OLD FALLS FROM BRIDGE
Wonwoo should’ve paid attention.
“Hey” – He felt someone poke his side and heard a door shut, so he turned around. Jisoo was standing there,
droopy eyed from what he assumed was due to the lack of sleep he’d gotten on the bus – “you ready?”
Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“You don’t need to use the restroom?”
“Nah” – Wonwoo detached himself from the wall and stood up straight – “I already went on our last stop.”
Jisoo nodded and said, “Then let’s go before the bus leaves us here,” as they walked side-by-side towards the
automatic doors. Tailing behind the smoker, they followed him up the steps and down the aisle until they’d arrived
at their seats. Jisoo sat first by the window and rubbed his eyes, sniffling away the mucus dripping from his
nostrils. As Wonwoo lowered down to sit, Jisoo quickly wiped his nose, pulled up his mask and turned his head to
the window.
There was just an hour left in their ride home.

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[+13, -24] This wouldn’t have been a problem if that boy went to Sunday church instead!!!!
[+5, -7] he must’ve known it was unsafe the moment he saw it… suicide?
[+121, -35] ISN’T THAT DONGHYUN’S EX BOYFRIEND?? DONGHYUN THE GOLF PLAYER
[+89, -0] I went to school hs w/ kim mingyu… he was always smiling... rest in paradise…
[+11, -47] i heard this guy was gay…
[+100, -0] Such a shame to see someone so young go away like that :( my prayers go out to his family
[+18, -2] R.I.P

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The most painful thing about the death of Kim Mingyu was watching his best friend obliviously walk around with
pure, innocent happiness sitting on his heart. All around him, the story of the boy who fell off a bridge and died from
a surgery gone wrong kept the streets alive, and he was the oddball that didn’t take part in any of it. Jisoo, as he
walked behind Wonwoo and watched him smile on their way home, didn’t want to break that shell of joy his friend
worked so hard to find. At the same time, however, it was unbearable seeing Wonwoo smile while the rest of the
world was frowning.
Not much went on as they waited for a taxi, but once their ride had arrived, Jisoo couldn’t take it. Wonwoo’s voice
was muted in Jisoo’s ears as his mind filled with disruptive emptiness, his body almost lifeless and limp against the
leather seating. The youngest did most of the talking – something about a family picnic in coming up – and it was a
casual conversation up until Wonwoo said, with the happiest goddamn voice Jisoo had ever heard, “Do you think
Mingyu would want to come? It’s going to be at Blazing Oaks, so he and I could visit the treehouse again.”
At that point, Jisoo had already broken down and found no use in hiding his tears.
He removed his mask and balled it in his fist. He felt the confused stares from Wonwoo and the taxi driver bore
into him like he was absolutely helpless – in which he was. Breathing in all the sadness that came with the
awareness of Mingyu’s death made his lungs feel as if they were on fire, and he was kind of sobbing and drowning
in sorrow alone.
“Hyung?” was Wonwoo’s only response to Jisoo’s tears, and the elder sobbed again. “Hey, no– What’s wrong?” he
asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted closer. The moment they were close enough, though, Jisoo leaned
into Wonwoo – head on his shoulder and hands snaking around his waist – and didn’t stop the tears from spilling
out. He repeated, “I’m sorry,” over and over again, and held his friend tightly, like he was afraid of losing him too.
Without understanding the reason for Jisoo’s tears, Wonwoo still murmured, “You’ll be okay.”
Jisoo tried to hold everything else back when the taxi stopped in front of Wonwoo’s house. He stepped out the
vehicle with his duffle bag in one hand and used the other to tightly grip onto Wonwoo’s arm, waiting for the latter
to pay for their ride. Then they turned, their steps completely mismatched as Jisoo’s were slower and Wonwoo’s
were more urgent, and headed towards the front door, neither of them knowing what to expect.
It’d been so long since they’d been there; blue flowers replaced the yellow ones that were planted by the doorsteps,
the wooden bench on the patio was broken, and the mailbox was repainted to hide the parts that chipped over time.
Even the sound of their footsteps sounded different against the concrete.
Seokmin was sitting at the end of the doorstep, his knees bent and back hunched over. At the sound of people
approaching him, he slowly took in the guests from the feet, up. Briefly, he and Jisoo looked at each other, then his
gaze moved over to Wonwoo. Wonwoo grinned when they made eye contact, and the latter quickly scrambled to
his feet, looking as if he were trapping his breath in his lungs. “W-Wonwoo, why’re are you here?” he stuttered.
“Because I’m visiting?” Wonwoo replied, laughing. “I thought you knew that.”
“I-I did, but” – Seokmin moved to block Wonwoo and Jisoo’s way – “you’re three hours early.”
“Oh, that’s because I accidentally told Minsuh the wrong time. We got here at around five-fifteen?” When
Wonwoo tried moving around Seokmin, the other stood in his way again. “Can you move, please?”
He shook his head. “You can’t go in.”
With a scoff, Wonwoo asked, “Why not?”
“It’s not the right time; Seungcheol-hyung’s still here–”
“Really? That’s great!” Wonwoo exclaimed excitedly, grinning. He shoved Seokmin aside, ignoring his pleading,
“No, Wonwoo–” and headed straight for the door, twisting the knob. Jisoo didn't follow. “Surprise! I’m home
early!” Tens of faces, from his family and close friends, turned to where he was, and nobody moved. Like a red dot
in a cluster of black, Wonwoo stood out from the rest. “Wow, tough crowd. I heard Seungcheol-hyung’s here.
Where is he?”
Everyone continued to eye him in disbelief, their mouths hung open in failed attempts at saying anything. Chan,
who was standing closest to the TV, cleared his throat and looked down. Pointing at the fireplace, he mumbled,
“Hyung’s over there.”
At one glance, Wonwoo’s expression waned and his body nudged forward instinctively. Seungcheol looked out of
place; his hair was disheveled and uncombed, red lines dyed the whites of his eyes and strained them like rubber
bands, and he was dressed in Mingyu’s old clothes. Minsuh was holding his hand, and Seungcheol squeezed it to
hold back. A murmured, “Hyung,” came before Wonwoo dropped his bag and marched over to Seungcheol.
But Wonwoo’s mother took a step forward by the time he was in the middle of the family room, stopping him from
taking a step further.
“Wha…” Wonwoo’s voice trailed off as his confused eyes met his mother’s sad ones. For a brief moment in time,
everything remained still. There was no sound, and there was no movement. Everything around them had seemed
to take a second to grieve and prepare itselves for the news that was about to be broken.
The world was muted, and that silence broke after Seungcheol had begun to cry.
Before Wonwoo’s mother could say anything, her lips quivered and a glaze of tears layered over her eyes.
“Wonwoo” – She was visibly numb, her voice reaching only a level higher than Seungcheol’s sobs. She glanced
over at Jihye, who gulped nervously, then back at her son with sad eyes – “Mingyu– he’s… gone.”
Wonwoo cracked a smile in thought of this entire scene to be some cruel prank, as his heart paused momentarily.
“What do you mean?” He looked around for some sign of reassurance, that his mom was just joking, but
everyone’s eyes sorrowed. Seungcheol sniffled, and Minsuh held him closer. “Seriously, where’s Mingyu?”
His mom shook her head. “Wonwoo, he fell off the bridge of your tree house and landed head first. He suffered
head trauma on his way to the hospital. They had to do an emergency surgery on him, but it failed and he was dead
before the surgery even ended.” She watched her son’s shaky grin, and she knew that he couldn't decide between
believing what she said or thinking otherwise.
It felt like someone’s firm, calloused hand had just grasped Wonwoo’s heart and squeezed it to the point of almost
popping it entirely. There was no way he could believe anything his mother was telling him, because the distance
between the bridge and the ground wasn’t high enough to cause that much damage. The bridge was stable. The tree
house was a safe place. You can’t die at a place like that.
“You’re pranking me,” he said, huffing a laugh. “All of you are part of this one, big prank.”
“He was trying to get things from the treehouse–”
“He’s hiding in the kitchen, isn’t he?”
“Wonwoo, please–”
“Come on, I know this is part of that surprise he planned.”
“Just– Stop–”
“Jokes on him, because Jihye already spoiled it! He’s going to say he loves me, and I’ll say I love him back, and
things will go back to the way they were. Right?”
“He’s not here, Wownoo–”
“This isn't funny, mom!”
“Wonwoo!” She yelled loudly enough to make everyone jump and bring their attention to her. Reaching out for her
son, she gently held his hands in hers. “Mingyu was in unbearable pain by the time the ambulance arrived, and his
chances of survival were low. It’s an old bridge, honey; there was no way he could’ve made it across without
breaking the wood.”
 As she spoke, Wonwoo’s face heavied into a frown as he repeated for her to quit lying – that everything would be
okay the next day. “Mom, please,” he pleaded. Yet she went further with her explanation, and Wonwoo wanted her
to just shut up. He thought, Mingyu’s alive; he even said he was going to live forever.
But Wonwoo, all he ever did was lie to himself – and that’s what he was doing.
When Seungcheol yelled for Wonwoo to shut the hell up and face the goddamn reality that his brother was gone,
then hid his face in his hands and cried more, Wonwoo knew it was over. He knew Mingyu was gone. His best
friend was dead.
All he could make out was a dry sob as his heart fell, cracked and stabbed his chest from the inside. All his tears
fell at once, and more were created the louder his cries became. Around the room, some people turned away from
the scene and tried to avoid crying, while others closed their eyes and took deep breaths as mourn and angst
clogged their throats. Wonwoo whimpered, “Everything was supposed to be okay, mom,” and that – that’s what
made everyone’s hearts break beyond repair, because that’s where Wonwoo was wrong. Nothing was okay, not
now.
“Oh, Wonwoo, I’m so sorry.” She let go of Wonwoo to allow him to walk closer to her, her arms ready to embrace
him. He cried into her blouse, his ragged sobs muffled against the fabric. The tears; they were burning so badly,
and he abhorred the pain as much as he hated standing in that room. “He loved you so much, Wonwoo – so, so
much.”
All she spoke was the truth; Mingyu loved Wonwoo to the point of blindness and despair, but his fear of change
kept his confessions from ever touching his lips. The same went for Wonwoo, how there were words that clouded
his thoughts endlessly yet nothing was ever said. Nonetheless, it was almost intrinsic for them to fall for each other.
They looked at each other with so much love – so much affection and care – but that love remained still, rooted in
place; thus, they were never together. And every time Wonwoo and Mingyu had the chance to be something, the
universe found ways to keep their love buried in the depths of their hearts.
Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu – they weren’t destined to be.
So, on a hot Tuesday evening at 5:43 PM, Wonwoo lost his first love forever and experienced true heartbreak for
the first time.

29
August 20 , 2017
th

To many people, Mingyu was what happiness and sadness would’ve looked like if it were modeled into something
of flesh and humanity and crooked smiles. He was made of the stars and bleached clouds, which never failed to make
the skies sweeter to the eye. As others arrived, grew and festered, he arrived, grew and denied fate’s will to age him.
Like an immortal, youth was forever present in him, and that youth came with the stupidity and wildness that tailed
behind it.

But youth and happiness were what the universe fed off of.

Powered by greed, life itself had betrayed him and ate what was left of his gift from his parents, his ancestors and
nature as a whole. He was a king’s feast that had been birthed from his mother to Earth, but had always been saved
for later. While his effervescence was developing rapidly, building over blocks that kept him protected from reality,
the universe watched his table hold enough food to feed the royal family and its servants. Then, all at once, it ate him
up and refused to spit him out again. All of that youth and happiness was gone in a flash. Just like that, Mingyu was
stranded in a black hole of lost faces, broken hearts and idle minds.

“NO! Mingyu!”
It was that moment when the universe decided to take him away. Mingyu’s foot was stuck between two planks of the
bridge, his skin outlining the veins on his neck as he howled in pain, feeling the old wood stab his ankle. With both
hands holding the rope firmly, his breathing was hard until he twisted his ankle sideways to sneak it out from the gap
made just for him.

The wood was ruthless to his sun kissed skin. As if it were demanding for pain to arise, it clawed and impaled his
ankle, darkening as trickles of blood began to seep out and stain. At the bottom, Seokmin was running towards the
first tree, but halted when Mingyu told him to not move any further.

“S-Stop, Seokmin!” Mingyu shouted, choking at the last beat. He swallowed hard, screwed his eyes shut to bare the
pain, and then said, “I can still get across!”

“Your fucking ankle is bleeding; I can’t just let that happen!” He winced when Mingyu moved again. Quickly, he
took his phone out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. “I’m calling for help.”

Mingyu squeezed his hands tighter, yelling, “STOP! If you call for help, I won’t be able to get the stuff for Wonwoo!”

Frustrated, Seokmin bit back, “Does that matter?! The wind’s getting stronger; you could fall!” Then, a female voice
was heard at the other end of the line – “9-1-1, what’s your emergency,” he heard – and he immediately said, “Yes,
hi, my friend has his foot stuck on a broken bridge–“

“I’m not going to forgive you after this!”

“–and it’s starting to bleed. I can’t climb up because it won’t be able to hold us both.”

As Seokmin gave the woman on the phone all the information she needed and answered her questions, Mingyu felt
tears brim his eyes – not from the pain, but from the chances of losing the photographed memories he shared with
Wonwoo for so long. He could lose Wonwoo, he could get rejected, but he would not allow their memories to
evaporate into nothingness. They were all he and Wonwoo had left of great years of adolescence. Desperate to keep
moving, he jerked his leg up to force his ankle out of the wooden trap it was in. But that action only led to regret as
the pain worsened.

I need to save the pictures – His tears fell harder down his hot, red cheeks, mixing with the sweat caused by the
summer heat – because they tell more stories than any “once upon a time” tale.

The wind rocked the bridge again, and at the same time it did, Mingyu pulled his leg up once more to escape,
succeeding. The hard yank worked with the wind, pushing him to the side and making him lose balance. Before he
and Seokmin could realize it, he was falling approximately two stories off the bridge, the last of his tears resting on
his lashes in dewy drops. First came the crushing feeling of his shoulder dislocating, then the back of his head and
legs falling to the ground.

Just like that, the sky began to mix with the trees, haziness in his eyes.

Dropping his phone and scrambling his feet to sprint over to his friend, Seokmin’s knees fell against the rocks and
dry dirt once he was close enough. “Min-Mingyu-ah?” his voice trembled, cautiously holding the latter in his arms.
“Hey… Mingyu…” Moving his hand up, he felt his nail meet something big and hard with rough edges.

A rock – a chunk of Earth causing blood to trail from the back of his skull, down to the gravel.

Seokmin huffed in disbelief as he said, “No, Mingyu, stay with me. Wonwoo will be here soon, so you have to hold
it in for him.” Mingyu mumbled nonsense, his eyelids close to shutting completely. “KIM MINGYU, STOP” – His
fingers curled – “JUST… STOP BLEEDING, FOR GOD’S SAKE.”

“Hello? Sir, are you still there?”

He crawled to his phone, picking it up as quickly as he could. “My friend just fell and he’s bleeding from the back
of his head! I-I think he landed head first!”

“Is he still conscious?”

“I– Kind of, but I don’t think it’ll last long! He–“ Mingyu’s body flinched, and then came the bile that moved up his
throat and out his mouth. In the position he was in, he started to choke, but Seokmin carefully turned him sideways.
“Oh, my God, he’s throwing up; please help him!”

Moments later, but almost forever in the little time they were running on, help had arrived, and Mingyu’s body was
examined then lifted in a stretcher. In the ambulance, Seokmin held his friend’s hand tightly, repeating, “Just hold it
in a little longer, Gyu.” Once they were at the hospital, Mingyu was rushed into the ER, and the nurses requested for
Seokmin to wait.

After doing a CT scan on Mingyu, the doctors concluded that they’d have to perform a decompressive craniectomy
surgery due to severe head trauma and bleeding within the skull. The surgeon, Dr. Im Jaehyun, approached Seokmin
with the information, requesting for a parent or guardian to be present during the procedure. He only had
Seungcheol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Se– Uh… Seungcheol-hyung? This is Seokmin, Mingyu’s friend.”

“Oh, hey, what’s up?”

Seokmin gulped. “Mingyu’s… at the ER of Summer Hospital right now. He fell off a bridge, and the doctors are
asking me for a guardian to be here because, um, he needs surgery.”

“What?” Seokmin heard Seungcheol’s lungs deflate through the phone. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I’m on my way–
Oh, my God.”

Seokmin looked at the time on the television screen in front of him: 36º Celsius, windy. Sunrise: 5:43 AM; Sunset:
7:51 PM. It was past midday. Apprehensive, Seokmin murmured, “Please hurry,” but said it after the line was cut
off.

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“W-what happened?” Seungcheol and Seokmin were up on their feet when a group of doctors exited the operation
room, their eyes wide with rapidly beating hearts. “Is my brother okay now? How long will it take till he recovers?”

The doctors – the people he had put so much trust in to save his little brother – had dishonor painting over gazes, and
their expressions hadn’t changed from the moment they walked out the automatic doors of the operation room. They
all stood in front of Seungcheol and Seokmin in shame – all aside from one, who stood in the back with more anger
than anything else.

When Seungcheol glanced down instinctively, he noticed the surgeon’s newly stitched hand and the dry blood
staining his skin. His eyes went wide. Stepping forward in threat, he screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED
TO MY LITTLE BROTHER,” as a nurse held him back. “WHERE’S MINGYU? TELL ME HIS HEART’S
FUCKING BEATING!”

“S-something went wrong with the surgical saw,” the surgeon said, applying as much composure as he could in his
voice, “and it injured my hand–“

“THEN WHERE’S THE SURGEON THAT TOOK YOUR PLACE?!”

 Dr. Im’s voice shook as he answered, “I had it under control.”

“Doctor” – Seokmin’s shoulders dropped in disbelief – “did you proceed without switching?” He didn’t get an
answer, and Seokmin’s heart dropped. “No, that’s… you can’t just go on with a surgery like that!”

Seungcheol, as strong as he was, shook the nurse off and grabbed the doctor by the shirt. With horror and fear in his
eyes, Dr. Im met Seungcheol’s bleary gaze. The guardian’s voice lowered. “Is my brother dead, or did your arrogance
kill him?” Again, there was no reply. “I DESERVE AN ANSWER!”

“The surgery failed” – The doctor in the back, Dr. Kang Jooyoung, stiffened at what Dr. Im said – “because of
cerebral hemorrhage.”

Thereupon, as nature was soaking the sun’s rays and people were smiling, Seungcheol felt every part of himself fall
apart. Like half of his heat had been taken away, he suffered the ache in his chest. His grip on Dr. Im’s scrubs
loosened, his fingers shaking as they lost contact with the material. He hunched over and didn’t try fighting off the
grieving sobs that poured out of him in chopped breaths. Just like that, Seungcheol had lost his only brother and the
smile he loved the most.

Mingyu left his life without properly saying goodbye.

Seokmin remained still behind him, guilt-ridden tears falling at the corners of his eyes. It’s my fault, he thought. He
couldn’t stop himself from believing that he was the reason for Mingyu’s death – the reason Mingyu had to go
through so much trouble in the first place, only to end up like this. He could have saved his friend.

“We’ll sue you,” Seungcheol cried, on his knees and hugging himself tightly, “we’ll sue all of you! You’re all
murderers!”

That evening, when Mingyu’s mother had arrived at the hospital from work, she didn’t speak a word, for the grief
and loss only allowed sadness to escape behind bars. Jihye, Minsuh and the rest of Mingyu’s friends waited as a
whole in a small, reserved room. It was a room flooded in tears with Mingyu’s name written over them, taking away
the remains of what they had left of him. Regardless of how it was a room full of people, each person felt alone. It
was emotional torture.

By the next morning, Mingyu’s mother decided that funeral would be in five days.

August 25 , 2017
th

Mingyu knew too many people. Faces Wonwoo had never seen showed up at the funeral with low gazes and black
attire, some having tear-stained cheeks on their sorrowed faces. He glanced around, an umbrella hanging around his
wrist, and noticed that some of the people there were from the country club – including Donghyun. He looked away.

Just like in the movies it was raining, despite it being summer. The air felt hot and humid, sticky against everyone’s
skin. The gloomy clouds flew over the city in a blanket of grayness, and there wasn’t a spot of blue in the sky.
Regardless of the coldhearted weather, dressing in black didn’t distract the heat away from them either; Wonwoo
was wearing the pressed suit that his mom had prepared for him – the same one he wore to prom in his senior year
of high school – thus making most of the funeral indoors until the actual burial of Mingyu’s body. There were a little
over thirty people at the visitation room of the cemetery-slash-morgue, a place with a more seats than there were
people, and Wonwoo stood with his parents and Minsuh at the back.

The entire morning he didn’t say much other than, “I’m sorry for your loss,” to Mingyu’s mother. She hugged him
in replacement of the phrase, “Thank you,” and that was all he needed to know that nothing was expected from him.
Together, they grieved without tears for the first time in days.
After the hug, she greeted Wonwoo’s parents and started a conversation. Like the sweetheart she was, Wonwoo’s
mother asked questions that showed how genuinely concerned she was for her. Mingyu’s mother was thankful.
Seungcheol sat alone all the way in the back of the room, his posture screaming exhaustion. Out of everyone attending
the funeral, he was the one who had the hardest time coping with the loss of his brother. He skipped classes, avoided
meals and refused to leave the house unless he truly had to. He even stopped smiling, because all the light that caused
it had vanished.

Sitting next to him, Wonwoo said, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Seungcheol responded.

Digging through the inside pocket of his suit, Wonwoo pulled out a small roll of cash and handed it to Seungcheol.
The elder was confused as he stared at the money, then looked at Wonwoo. “Mingyu and I never paid you back for
the paint,” he murmured, his lips tugging a little, “so… here you go. Several years later.”

Seungcheol smiled – finally smiled – as he said, “You’re actually paying back.”

Wonwoo shrugged as he replied, “I always pay back,” and then, as his features softened, “You’ll get through this.”

“Thank you.” Seungcheol briefly hugged Wonwoo. “You should, uh, get up there. Say some stuff to Mingyu.”

Diverting his gaze to the front of the room, Wonwoo saw Hansol and Minghao standing in front of the coffin. They
were talking to his lifeless body, and he read their lips. All he could make out were the words goodbye and boxer.

Right. He forgot that the three of them were boxing buddies.

Wonwoo got up to approach the coffin, making him the last person to stand in front of it that morning. He wanted to
see his best friend one last time and finally say goodbye. He felt the eyes of too many people bore into his back,
however, and he had to suck up the urge to sit at the seat closest to him.

Standing in front of the coffin, Wonwoo kind of regretted walking up there. He closed his eyes as he winced upon
seeing Mingyu’s appearance. Mingyu’s hair had been shaved off, a knit beanie covering the stitches he had from
surgery. His slacks rose a little, which revealed the wound on his ankle that came from getting his foot stuck on the
bridge. Mingyu didn’t look like Mingyu. He died looking less of himself.

With nothing but crestfallen love in his eyes, Wonwoo traced a small heart on the side of the coffin with his finger.
“I love you,” he whispered, “yesterday, today and every tomorrow I have left. I am still so, extremely in love with
you.” After that, he sat next to Jisoo and tried to erase the image of Mingyu’s lifeless body out of his mind.

The rest of the thing – less of a funeral, more of a gathering for those who mourned over Mingyu’s death – continued
with words from Boo Seungkwan (who Wonwoo didn’t expect to see at all), Junhui (“Without Kim Mingyu,” he
said, “I wouldn’t have met the love of my life, and I also wouldn’t know what it means to live life at its fullest”),
Seokmin, his cousin, his father (everything was complete bullshit, Wonwoo thought), and Seungcheol.

Every word Seungcheol said was blocked out by the static muffling Wonwoo’s ears. He didn’t listen until he heard,
“My brother was easy to love,” and, “Mingyu had always been afraid of change, but he was so afraid that he didn't
even notice it happening.” It was the sad, stupid truth.

Wonwoo was called up to say a few words, but he didn't have anything prepared. Those speeches were always for
the people attending the funeral, and not the person who’s actually dead. So, standing in front of faces he knew and
faces he didn’t, he started with, “I first met Mingyu face to face with a cast on my arm.” Some people laughed, but
it wasn’t supposed to be funny. That’s really how they met. He proceeded with bullshit about cherishing life, and
then returned to his seat, bitter.
Mingyu would’ve laughed – not because it was funny, but because Wonwoo’s zipper was down throughout the entire
speech he improvised. He was thankful no one seemed to notice.

The very last person to go up was Mingyu’s father, and Wonwoo tried so fucking hard to not boo him away from the
attention of people who thought he had the right to be up there. He didn’t deserve to deliver a speech, because he
couldn’t tell stories of teaching Mingyu how to ride a bike or taking him out to watch Transformers for the first time.
Up there, he was a father; anywhere else, he was a stranger to his son’s childhood.

It was eventually time to bury Mingyu’s body. A group of men lifted the coffin to the burial spot, and the rest of the
attendees followed behind. Walking out of the building, they walked through the cemetery garden, passed a fountain
flocked by geese, and continued until they had stopped at a spot reserved by a blue tent and a hole next to a pile of
dirt.
The rain trickled. Junhui and Wonwoo were standing by each other, shoulder to shouler. He was gripping Junhui’s
wrist, while the other clenched into a ball. Junhui did him a favor and held the clear umbrella above them.

Wonwoo watched as they lowered Mingyu’s casket in the dirt, slowly making its way six feet underground.
Everything after that was straightforward: The priest said a few words, they trapped the coffin in a cluster of dirt, and
everyone – one by one – placed flowers over it. Finally, everyone headed for their vehicles and left the venue.

While walking to Junhui’s car, Wonwoo heard people call out his name behind him. He turned around and froze
when he saw Seungcheol and Donghyun waiting for him, five feet away from each other. He opened his umbrella
and held it high above him, asking Junhui to wait with Minghao and Seokmin in the car. Wonwoo spared Donghyun
a glance as he approached Seungcheol.

They just stood there for quite some time, waiting for either of them to speak up, until Seungcheol finally said, “In
case you didn’t know, those rumors about my brother aren’t true. The scalpel wasn’t what killed him.” Wonwoo
pursed his lips and nodded. “The surgeon’s dominant hand was injured because the saw cut him, but he refused to
call for another doctor. He was irresponsible, so… yeah.”

Understanding, but too bitter to feel angry, Wonwoo murmured, “I guess the surgeon wanted to protect his pride.
Thank you for telling me,” and turned to walk away.

“Mingyu loved you so much, Wonwoo.” He looked at Seungcheol again. “He really, really did. Don’t forget that.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I won’t.”

Seungcheol glanced to his left and saw Donghyun waiting, so he patted Wonwoo’s shoulder and walked away.
Wownoo turned to Donghyun.

“Mingyu was… a great person,” Donghyun said. Wonwoo nodded. “Look, uh. You probably hate me, but… just
know that Mingyu’s the reason why I’m starting to change. I want to be a better person.” Wonwoo nodded again.
“So, yeah. I just wanted to let you know. I’m sorry for whatever happened between us in the past.”

Wonwoo remained voiceless, even when Donghyun said goodbye and separated away from him. He had nothing to
say to a person like Donghyun.

·̇··̇ ̇·̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ̇·̇

After the funeral ended, Wonwoo and his friends stopped at a gas station for water. Seokmin and Wonwoo waited in
the car as the others did what they had to do, and it was dead silent. Once the gas was full, Junhui sat in the driver’s
seat.

“What did Seungcheol say?” he asked Wonwoo.

Wonwoo answered truthfully, “He told me the rumors about Mingyu were untrue and that Mingyu loved me.”

“He did,” Seokmin butted in.

Junhui nodded, twisting his body to look at Wonwoo. “I have no doubt that you guys were soulmates,” he added.

“But we were never going to be together anyway,” Wonwoo said, a sad and painful smile twitching his lips, “and
even if we were meant to be, we’d never happen.” Junhui’s eyebrows knitted, and Seokmin peered down at his hands.
“Don't say that,” he argued. But Wonwoo backed away and shook his head, murmuring, “It’s true, though, hyung.
He and I were as much of a tragedy as the freaking Titanic” – A choked, pitiful laugh – “only Jack and Rose were
actually together, and Mingyu and I never were.”

Neither of them followed when Wonwoo ran out the car, because he was right. Wonwoo and Mingyu were born to
be a tragedy together. They sat there in shame until Minghao came and asked, “Where’s Wonwoo-hyung?”

·̇··̇ ̇·̇·̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇·̇·̇··̇ ̇ ••୨୨┈┈┈୨୨•• ·̇··̇ ·̇ ̇·̇

The blood was still there.

Wonwoo was at the tree house, ready to finish Mingyu’s task himself, but as he walked he saw splotches of dark red
coloring the rocks sitting over the soggy dirt. He paused, closed his eyes and turned away. Blood was the last thing
he wanted to see, especially if it was Mingyu’s.

He was crossing restricted areas, for the police blocked off the tree house with yellow plastic to keep others safe.
Nonetheless, he pushed forward and stepped past the boundaries, determined to save the pictures. As he avoided the
bloodstains the best he could, he felt his feet bury deeper into the dirt and eat him up the same way it did to Mingyu.

But Mingyu was weak with desperation, and Wonwoo was only motivated by the loss of his best friend. He fought
it off.

Standing beneath the tree house, he removed his jacket and button up. Now dressed in just a plain white shirt and
slacks, he wiped his clammy hands on his shirt then held either side of the trunk. From there, he began to pull himself
up, climbing the tree. But his dress shoes were slippery, and he fell before reaching halfway.

“Fuck,” he uttered, kicking off his shoes.

He returned to his feet, tugging up his right sock. Proceeding with what he was doing previously, he climbed the tree.
He was fast, but became slower when the wood started to cut through his palms and fingers. His teeth gritted in pain,
eyebrows furrowing as he continued up the trunk.

Once he was at the top, he opened the emergency latch at the bottom and quickly picked the splinters out of one
hand. He grunted as he pulled himself up. Finally inside, he picked away the rest of the pieces of wood in his skin
and grabbed the first aid kit for bandages.

(The tree house no longer felt like home to Wonwoo. He didn’t feel safe; he felt himself rotting along with it. He was
uneasy, almost paranoid and anxious. There was no way he’d ever call it a safe haven ever again, and he realized that
while kneeling at a corner, covering his wounds.)

The moment he covered his last cut, he crawled over to the wooden box in which the photo albums should’ve been
stored in. Swiftly lifting up the top, he peered inside with wide, hopeful eyes.

But… they weren’t there.

“What?” he breathed in disbelief. Panicking, he dug through the cluster of dried markers, drawings, toys and old raps
he wrote in high school, yet didn’t meet what he was searching for. “Where are they? Nonono, they can’t be gone;
where else would they be?”

His eyes jerked around for ideas. He got up and searched every inch of the tree house, not caring how much of a mess
he was making. When he glanced up, he realized that even the picture frame they had was gone. All of their memories
were gone.

They’re gone. Nothing’s here, and I don’t know where the hell they are.

“THIS ISN’T FAIR!” He threw the handmade maraca he was holding across the tree house, hearing it clash, break
and release the beads that were inside. “WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO FEEL SO” – He threw a dirt filled
water bottle – “FUCKING” – Then he threw his camera – “SAD?!”

The camera crashed against the wall – where the mural was, right over Mingyu’s handprint – and fell to the wooden
floor in pieces. The body of it chipped, the flash scratched and the unused film inside it scattered out. All at once,
Wonwoo’s anger faded and was replaced with something else; the same feeling he had whenever his eyes met with
Mingyu’s, the same feeling he had whenever he saw Mingyu smile. There was no word for it – not that he knew of
– but the feeling was there. It was lingering.

Wonwoo walked over to the handprint, stepping over the Polaroid film and dirt, as his toes shoved aside everything
else in his way. Pink paint overlapped the fingertips of a purple handprint, names written horribly in permanent
marker on the palms of them. He crouched down and stared at both hands, remembering the day they painted it. They
stole Seungcheol’s wallet. They had paint on their hair, skin and clothes. They created some of their favorite
memories.

Wonwoo started to tear up after his hand met with Mingyu’s old handprint. His hands were bigger than the paint, but
the touch was warm – like his hand was welcome. With a fluttering heart, Wonwoo’s lips twitched sadly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered shakily.

From there, he completely broke. His best friend’s name was making its way out his mouth in hiccupped breaths
while passing the jagged rocks of his tongue. The uneasy breaths and strained feeling in Wonwoo’s chest were all
too tiring to handle, driving him in a heart wrenching wail that burned all over. He wanted his best friend back.

He was angry. And he was sad.

Fifteen minutes later, Wonwoo was sitting at a corner and had already stopped crying. There weren’t any tears left
to shed, but he still felt the pain scratch the back of his throat and kick his chest. He remained in place lifeless, with
a blank mind, drained heart and numb body. There was no way he could leave the tree house without breaking a limb
on the way down or getting more splinters jabbed in his skin, so he simply waited – for nothing.

Just when he became aware of his surroundings again, blinking as he looked around him, he heard Seokmin shout,
“Wonwoo! Are you still up there?”

A hoarse, “Yeah,” was Wonwoo’s response, but it was too quiet for his friend to hear. Louder, yet not loud enough,
he said, “I’m here Seokmin.”

He started crying again, afraid that if he weren’t loud enough, Seokmin would’ve left him there; however, the moment
he started to doubt his friend, Seokmin’s head emerged from the emergency exit. Wonwoo cried harder.

“Come here,” Seokmin said gently, holding out his hand, “I found a ladder long enough for you to get down, but we
have to take turns or else we’ll fall. Please stop crying.”
 Nodding, Wonwoo wiped away his tears and the mucus from his nose. “Careful,” Seokmin warned, “you’ll have to
stretch your legs to reach the first step.” He crawled to the gap, waited until Seokmin was at the bottom, and then
climbed down. The second his feet were flat on the dirt, he spun around and pulled Seokmin into his arms, crying in
the crook of his neck.

“The pictures weren’t there,” he cried, “and I have no clue where they are.”

Seokmin hugged back, sighing. “I’m sorry, Wonwoo.”

He shook his head. “I miss him.”

“I know. I do, too.”
Seokmin, Junhui and Minghao took Wonwoo home after that. Junhui drove, Seokmin sat shotgun, while Minghao
sat next to Wonwoo in the back, holding his hand and reminding him that he was going to be okay. Once he arrived
at his house, he was greeted by a worried hug from his mom.

Nightfall came, and Wonwoo was restless. Hours of lying in bed, blinking at nothing, and he still couldn’t shut his
eyes for more than ten seconds. He felt exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t go to rest. But a half miracle – half
misfortune – happened. That night, Wonwoo managed to fall asleep; the next morning, he woke up with heartbreak
and grief sitting over his chest.

(Shakespeare once wrote, “For never was there a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” But he had
never heard of Wonwoo and Mingyu’s – and shit, was he wrong, because nothing could ever be more tragic than a
story in which those in love could never experience togetherness at its fullest.)

30
May 18 , 2017
th

“Good afternoon, Ji.”

Sticking a Cheeto in her mouth, Jihye mumbled, “Good afternoon,” and read an article on her phone. Mingyu took a
seat across from her, grinning as he nudged a flash drive at her hand. She glanced at it, and then rolled her eyes. “If
you’re trying to sell me your mixtape” – She pushed it away – “I think I’ll pass.”

Mingyu poked her with it. “It’s not a mixtape. It’s a thing.”

“Cheetos are things, too.”

“I mean” – He sighed, swatting away the Cheeto she was waving in front of his face. She scowled at him, but didn’t
pick it up from the ground – “this is part of the surprise.”

“Oh, are those the songs you talked about?”

Shaking his head, Mingyu pulled his laptop out of his backpack and opened it. “It’s a video, actually,” he corrected,
plugging in the flash drive, “in case, uh, things don’t necessarily… work out.”

Something about Mingyu’s voice while answering was a bit off, and Jihye noticed quickly. As her suspicion arose,
she put her phone down and wiped her fingers with a napkin, sitting up straight. “I thought we already talked about
our plan B,” she mumbled.
 “This is another plan. It’s unlikely that we’ll have to use it, but” – He looked up at her and held his breath, a pursed
smile in place – “you never know what’ll happen.” Hesitating for a moment, Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip before
asking, “Do you want to see?”

Furrowing her eyebrows and pouting in confusion, Jihye nodded. Mingyu handed her his ear buds and turned his
laptop around. As she watched and listened – a full six-to-eight minutes of him just talking to his webcam – he saw
her expressions change verily. At the very end of it all, after the screen went black, she removed the ear buds and
stared at him for some sort of explanation. Mingyu cleared his throat.

“What’s with the ending?”

“It’s” – Mingyu nervously rubbed his hands over his jeans – “just, like, a farewell video. You know, for closure.”

“I still don’t under–“

“It’s video of me explaining everything in case I… die.” Jihye’s eyes widened, her nostrils flaring. She was
speechless. “Like I said, it’s really unlikely that I’ll actually have to use this.”

She shook her head. “But, no. You won’t die; there’s no use in this.”

“Ji.”

“I’m serious, Mingyu,” she argued. “You’ve gone pretty far with confessing to Wonwoo, but this is insane. You
aren’t going to die. You don’t need this.”

“Ji.”

“Stop scaring me!”

“Jihye!” She flinched, and those sitting around them in the mall cafeteria briefly turned their attention to the two. Her
heart was beating hard and fast, apprehension and irritation bubbling inside her. Mingyu’s gaze was soft on hers, but
made it look like he was pleading for her to cooperate. “At this point, I could care less about just confessing. I just
need to explain myself and hope that he accepts my apology.”

Jihye looked at the screen again. 7 years, 8 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours and 15 minutes. She didn’t understand,
because that day was set in September, and Wonwoo was returning in August. It didn’t make sense, so she asked,
“Why this date?”

Her breath hitched when he smiled.

September 12 , 2017 - 5:30 AM [PRESENT]

th

The skies are crying again.

It’s the last thing anyone would expect before summer ends, considering how rare rainfall is during the hot season.
The windows are verging between warm and cool, the droplets dance their way down slowly, and the sun remains
blinding behind the clouds. But it’s always been like this, ever since Mingyu died. The world turned into sorrow, and
time slowed even more.

Wonwoo wakes up to a light pitter-patter on his window and a stinging headache throbbing the side of his head. He
flips over to his back, his face parallel to the ceiling, and takes a deep breath as he blinks profusely. For a while, he
considers staying in bed the whole day, but that’s all he ever does: Lay around, lifeless. He needs to get up. Slowly,
he lifts his back from the mattress and sits there with an empty mind. The duvet is wrinkled and fading in color, his
legs folded over each other beneath it.
It’s cold. Next to him is an empty glass of water sitting atop of his nightstand, his cellphone blinking next to it. It’s
a text – multiple texts, actually. He doesn’t want to answer any of them. Even before today, he’s been unresponsive
and MIA, and everyone has been worrying about him more than Wonwoo thinks they should. Junhui, Seokmin, Jisoo,
Minsuh and his parents are the only people he ever agrees to talk to, but he hardly ever does regardless. Taking some
time off from people seems to give him enough closure, because he just wants to be alone.

The AC is gushing so much cool air that Wonwoo forgets how humid it’s likely to be outside. Glancing over at the
calendar hung over his desk, however, he concludes that he’s barely making it through September. He moves to the
end of his bed and lets his legs dangle before allowing his feet to touch the floor. Grunting, he rises and walks to the
bathroom.

After sauntering across his loft, a flat without Jihoon and the comfort of his presence, Wonwoo opens the door to his
bathroom and flicks the switch to turn on the light. His first instinct is to look ahead, straight at the mirror, which he
regrets doing because he doesn't want to see himself – not while he's a damn mess of depression and sorrow.
Disappointed, he blinks as he hesitantly shifts his gaze towards the sink.

Looking at himself has gotten harder as the days have passed. Glaring at the paleness of his skin, the discoloration
of his eye bags contrasting with the fairness of his cheekbones, and the faint spark he once had, make Wonwoo
embarrassed to be who he is. And he thinks he should be, because cowards and losers shouldn't love themselves.
He’s both.

He doesn’t shower, but he does brush his teeth and rinse his face. It’s a step up from his hygienic routine from last
week. Then, he sluggishly heads back to his room, turning the light off as he walks out. While sinking into his
mattress, he grabs his phone and plays all of his voicemails on speaker.

“Hey, Wonwoo.” His heart lightens when he recognizes the voice as Minsuh’s, closing his eyes and releasing a breath
of relief. “I just wanted to check up on you. If you want anything, I have some leftover pad Thai from last night’s
dinner. Please call back – thanks.”

With all his energy drained, he decides not to call back. He misses his family, talking to Minsuh about trivial things
and watching Chan dance at his recitals, but it’s hard to communicate comfortably if he can’t shake off his aching
sadness. His family has tried countless times to contact him, and their efforts are always rejected the moment
Wonwoo ends the Facetime calls and deletes the video messages.

He moves on to the next voicemail.

“Yo, it’s Jun–”

“And Minghao.”

“–and we were just wondering if you were doing okay. We miss you, man!”

Wonwoo smiles, heartfelt. He goes to the next one.

“Hey, um… it’s Seungcheol. I hope you’re putting up well, and if you ever want to have some coffee together one
day, I’ll gladly take you. Call whenever.”

Wonwoo still hates coffee, but tries to remember to ask if they could one day go out for boba instead, just like they
used to. Next one.

“Uh, h-hello. This is Donghyun and I– Fuck, I don’t know why I’m calling–”

He doesn’t even bother continuing with that one. Next.

“It’s Jihye. I’m coming over early tomorrow morning.”

How early is “early?” Wonwoo still isn’t open to any visitors, so it surprises him knowing that Jihye would bother
trying, especially since he’s heard that she’s been out of town for the past two weeks. When he picks up the phone
to call her, she already beats him to it.

Swiping across the screen to answer, Wonwoo stutters, “H-hello?”

“Good, you're awake.”

“I don’t want to see anyone, Ji.”

“Too late” – There’s a loud knock at the front door – “I’m already here.”

The phone is only hovering over his ear when he brings his attention to the window, catching sight of a vehicle parked
along the edge of the sidewalk. She’s not lying – it’s actually her, because Wonwoo doesn't know of anyone else
who would own a silver smart car in a city as big as theirs. Hesitantly, he hangs up the phone and walks to the front
door. As he makes his way there, he prepares himself for the pity and sympathetic words of encouragement that he’s
already so used hearing.

The moment he opens the door, he sees Jihye with hair that reaches up to her collarbones and gradient lips that
transition from pink to pale. Somehow, she looks just as surprised as Wonwoo does, and he guesses it’s due to how
much he’s changed in the matter of days. She barely notices Wonwoo through his grayish complexion, tousled hair,
dull eyes and weighed lips. Jihye almost asks for Wonwoo, but she sees that the man in front of her is him, and it
hurts.

“What happened to you,” Jihye murmurs in disbelief.

Wonwoo winces at her tone. “I’m– Funerals do a lot to you. Why’re you here, Ji?”

That’s when she looks down at the box she's holding, one that looks bigger than she could handle. He glances at it,
and then notices that KM to JW is written over it in thick, black Sharpie. He looks at Jihye again unsurely as his
posture stiffens. There’s a wary grin on her face that makes her appear hesitant.

“I’m just doing a favor,” she says, soft and gentle, as she shrugs sheepishly.

Wonwoo has to blink before allowing Jihye inside, taken aback by everything that’s occurring. He waits for her to
remove her shoes and follows her to the living room. He waits longer when he sits down and watches her check her
phone, suddenly panic, and set various items in front of him, all of which come from inside the box.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, helping Jihye pick up the items she drops.

Jihye’s breathing heavily as she collects everything in her arms, fumbling and stuttering and outright panicking. “I-I
have to do everything on time,” she says in haste. “He wants this to be perfect, and it’s the last fa-favor he’s asking
for.”

“Ji, what’re you talking about?”

She looks at him through her bangs, her breathing gradually toning down. As she carefully sets a coupon book on
the coffee table, she murmurs, “This is why he died” – Wonwoo tenses at those words – “and all he asked from me
is this simple favor. I can't let his work go to waste, Wonwoo.”

Without prying any more information from Jihye, Wonwoo nods and lets her do what she has to do. He watches her
with an apprehensive gaze.
While opening her laptop and pulling up a folder labeled, “120917,” Wonwoo reaches over to pick up a photo album
that looks too familiar to not recognize. The front of it is decorated in this dirty, light blue fabric that’s sewn over
rough padding. He checks the binding, and just as he expects, his and Mingyu’s names are written there in faded ink.

Wonwoo can’t breathe. The last time he saw this album, along with the other ones Jihye brought, was sometime
around the end of senior year; and the last time he heard of these pictures, it came with the news that Mingyu had
fallen off a bridge to retrieve them.

If Jihye has the pictures, why did Mingyu go up the tree house?

“What the hell is this,” Wonwoo utters, his knuckles turning white enough to almost see through them. “Why do you
have these?”

Jihye pauses, her fingers frozen on the track pad of her laptop. Her eyes wander for a brief moment before they cast
down. “During the investigation at the tree house, I asked a police officer if there was any way he could somehow
get all of your belongings from there.” She chews her bottom lip. “It took a while because they thought that maybe
there was possible evidence up there of someone being the reason why Mingyu fell, but they found nothing so they
called me to get the stuff back.”

The latter only nods in response, and it’s taken as a sign for Jihye to continue doing what she needs to do.

Wonwoo hesitantly opens the album with his nimble fingers, his chest tightening at the first page. There’s two small
pieces of cardstock taped to it, one in green and another in yellow. There’s shame and guilt overpowering him as he
looks at them, because he then realizes that he forgot about these notes. He should’ve remembered.

“Let’s read these after one of us dies.”

“Gyu, that's a terrible idea.”

“But it’s not my worst.”

His hands are shaking as he slides his finger underneath the yellow cardstock, carefully peeling it from the album.
When he unfolds it, he reads:

I guess I’m dead now. That kind of sucks, because I was so sure I’d live to see
a zombie apocalypse or at least grow old with you. I hope you're okay without
me hyung! I love you! (And yes, I called you hyung because I’m dead and you
can’t say anything about it. Ha.) (Maybe that was a bit harsh. I mean it, though.
I hope you’re okay, and I hope you’re happy. You deserve to be happy.)

Gyu

Wonwoo doesn't cry when he finishes reading the note; he doesn't have time to, because there’s a low voice emitting
from Jihye’s laptop that distracts him completely. He looks up, and she’s turning the laptop towards him. The video
is paused.

“Everything’s up to you now,” she whispers, running her hand through Wonwoo’s hair. “Press play.”

So he does.
"My name is Kim Mingyu" – Wonwoo recoils his hand from the touchpad, and it feels limp in the air – "and you are
Jeon Wonwoo. We're best friends, or at least we used to be."

It's him – it's Mingyu. There he is, on a thirteen-inch laptop screen, grinning from ear to ear and sitting at his desk.
Sunlight is illuminating the room that Wonwoo recognizes as his best friend's, and the silhouettes of his blinds show
against the wall. From the looks of it, the sun is setting.

He looks like he hasn't slept in days. There're red strokes painting his tired eyes and gray shadows pillowing
underneath them. His once tan skin has turned into an unhealthy creamy color, while his oily hair sticks out of place.
Despite it all, Mingyu still smiles like there's nothing but good in his life, and Wonwoo feels himself break on the
inside.

"When I called you," Mingyu continues, "on Christmas of 2009, I talked to you as if I was a fan. I knew your name,
what grade you were in, and that Minsuh was your cousin."

He smiles. Wonwoo can't move.

With grieved eyes and his heart in his throat, Wonwoo whispers, "Mingyu-ah..."

"You used to stop and stare at my house everyday after school."

"Jihye, he-he's here."

"You'd stand there for a while, and I eventually saw you. It was a daily thing, and I started to wait for you, and you'd
show up."

"He's here, Jihye."

Jihye's eyes sadden. "No, Wonwoo, it’s just a video."

"I started to become curious, though, and one day decided to ditch school to follow you. You passed by my house on
the other side of the road in the mornings, so I waited till I saw you there. I’m still surprised you didn’t notice me; I
was actually really bad at hiding the fact that I was following you to school.” He chuckled awkwardly. “So, uh,
anyway. I soon realized that we attended the same school, which sort of saved me from getting in trouble with the
dean. That day, it was the first time you saved my ass, out of all the other times you soon would. Thank you.

“So I slowly began to learn about you, but coincidentally, I guess? When Seungcheol-hyung told me he was dating
Minsuh, I found out you guys were cousins. I don't know when, I don’t know how, but it happened. That one day,
when they talked on Christmas night, I heard Seungcheol-hyung talking to Minsuh on the phone. So, I then decided
to take advantage of the opportunity and talked to you.” He smiles greatly, like he’s genuinely happy; like he’s in
love. “God, I was so happy that night, I could barely sleep. I thought, ‘Finally. I’m finally friends with Jeon Wonwoo,
and nothing has felt better than this.’”

Wonwoo looks over at Jihye, who’s watching him with sympathy in her eyes. He murmurs, “Don’t tell me this is
what I think it is.” She only looks away, and Wonwoo’s terrified. “There’s no way-”

“It’s a video he prepared,” she chokes, as her fragile fingers clasp over each other nervously, “in case he died.”
Wonwoo turns back to the screen, sitting in disbelief.

Mingyu says, “The years I’d spent with you were so rewarding, and I always wondered what I ever did to deserve so
much happiness and care from you. You were there when I cursed for the first time, and you were there the day I
finally opened up about my dad. You were there when I went on my first date. You were there during the toughest
times. You were always there, when I needed you and when I didn’t.” He nods with gratitude. “Thank you. Because
of that, you were irreplaceable.

“I was always a happy person, you know that. But as I reached my midpoint of high school, I became… I can’t find
the word for it. Cynical? Yeah, cynical.” His eyes cast down, his elbows propped against the armrests. He does a
twirl in the swivel chair then stops. “You probably noticed my behavior during that time. I was always thinking and
wondering about things I never considered before, and maybe it was a bad thing.” He looks at the camera, eyes
earnest and warm and affectionate. “One day, when you talked me through my worries, I realized… you were the
only person who could ever keep me busy, away from my thoughts and confusion. I was comfortable with you. I was
always home.”

Wonwoo grits his teeth and closes his eyes, swallowing hard to take back the lump in his throat. He’s piling up with
so much regret, so much hurt, that holding back tears feels like the most painful thing in the world.

“The day I became aware of how I felt about you was the day we went to the library together. You probably don’t
remember that day, but I do. Wonwoo, I remember so much of that day; how you ignored my efforts in catching your
attention because you wanted to read, how the lighting made you look so fucking beautiful, how everything seemed
to stop when you smiled at me, how that marble you threw was like some metaphorical wake up call or some other
John Green shit.” Mingyu sticks his fist in his shirt and moves it to look like a beating heart. “Like this. The feeling
of seeing you, hearing you and being with you was always like this. I didn’t know at the time, but now I do: I was
whipped.” And then he smiles, his eyes shining with a silver glint that Wonwoo misses seeing everyday. “Almost
kissing you felt great, and actually kissing you felt beyond amazing. We kissed a lot that day, and that was the last
time I was ever going to kiss you. But kissing you one day will always be better than never kissing you for a lifetime.

“I feel like I have a lot of explaining to do, about our relationship. I really liked you, Wonwoo – believe me. I liked
everything about you; from the way you talked, to the way you smiled. I felt at ease just being around you.” His eyes
then fell with regret, and Wonwoo wanted to kiss his eyelids and tell him it was okay. “After we kissed, however, I
had this open door to dating you, but I closed it. Every time it opened, I closed it again. I wouldn't stop closing you
off because I was scared of something I should’ve overcame. Back then, I dated a lot of people and they never lasted,
which made me scared to date you. I thought, What if I date him and we break up, just like I did with my past
girlfriends? What if that break up ruins everything? Losing my best friend was the last thing I ever wanted, so I
didn’t want to put anything at risk.

“But the universe only gives you a number of chances before you waste all of them and walk away with nothing left
in your pockets. The longer I spent running away from you, the faster my feelings somehow grew and the less chances
I had. Eventually, I fell in love. All that love, all the feelings I had for you, made me regret never allowing us to be
together. I should've given up everything to be with you, but I’m dumb; instead, I ended up in a relationship that I
shouldn't have been in, in the first place. Now I just feel guilty and lonely, and not even Seungcheol-hyung could
make me as happy as you did.”
Mingyu's shoulders tense as he sucks in a breath, a smile in place. He glances down and awkwardly holds up a
dandelion.
"I know you like flowers, so I plucked a whole bunch from the western garden and taped them to a journal I kept. I
did research and wrote about the, uh, ways they remind me of you.” Wonwoo smiles, biting his lip. “This may not
be a lot, but I-I have more than just a dandelion. It's kind of screwed up because I was kind of, um, breathing on it"
– Wonwoo laughs, but it comes out as a sob – "and I guess that doesn't matter, right?"

What matters is that you’re here, Wonwoo thinks.

"I have more stuff for you, and although it took a while to gather, I think it was worth the time and effort. There’s a
Rilakkuma doll for whenever you need to hug someone and no one’s there to do it. I made a mixtape of songs I
recommend, and I really hope you like them as much as I do. Some, uh” – He hesitates, suddenly shy and embarrassed
– “notes I kept when we were in high school. They’re, um, love notes that I was too scared to give you. There’s a lot,
so be warned. Oh! And there are a lot of snacks, too; I think some restaurant coupons as well. Not sure. There should
also be a photo album by now; of pictures we took when we were younger and ones I took of you off guard. Keep in
mind: You looked amazing in every single one.”

Wonwoo feels the corner of his lips tug upwards. Thanks, Gyu.

"I know neglecting you was wrong, and I'm here to apologize for being really stupid because–"

I don't deserve your apology.

"I am truly–"

Mingyu-ah...

"–irrevocably–"

Mingyu, I miss you so much.

"–and unconditionally–"

Please come back.

"–in love with you."

Just like that, the video transitions to black, and Wonwoo’s suffocating beneath a pile of words that he failed to tell
Mingyu while he was still alive. The countless I love you’s and I miss you’s he never gave a chance at saying, clog
his throat. He just wants to play his entire year on rewind and fix whatever he can, but he already knows that
possibility is zero to none.

He wants Mingyu back.

Jihye softens when she sees Wonwoo break into uneasy sobs and hug himself as some way of comfort and protection.
She crawls to the space next to him, and then wraps both of her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“He chose this exact time,” she says, sniffling, “because he told me that the first time you slept over at his house as
kids, he woke up before you, at this exact time, and looked down and saw you on the floor. He said you looked so at
peace, like nothing could ever harm you. He wanted you to look like that every single morning of your life.”

“He told you that.” It’s said as more of a statement than a question, but Jihye nods anyway. And when Wonwoo
finally opens his eyes, there’s a blur of white text over a black canvas that he tries to read through his watery gaze.
He wants to laugh, but he just can’t. The agonizing heartbreak never stops, the tears never pause for a single moment,
 and the sense of misery continues to settle. Because realization hits, and the only word he finds to describe himself
is oblivious. “I’m so stupid for leaving him.”

She shakes her head and cries harder, her fingers gripping the back of Wonwoo’s shirt so tightly that her manicured
nails create temporary dents in her skin. “Stop. You’re not stupid.”

Wonwoo stares at the screen again. There’re so many numbers. So many words. Too much bitter sweetness. Too
little happiness.

It’s the little things, he thinks, that should be noticed but are left ignored. One of those things is the short sentences
that can hold a thousand meanings, like “I love you,” and, “You mean a lot to me.” Then there are the small moments
that are considered special, because they’re things only you and another person can understand. Finally, time; how
painfully long it can last, or how unnoticeably short it can be. They’re all ignored and pushed aside like green beans
on a child’s plate.

But time isn’t at fault; it’s their hesitation and worries that they failed to overcome.

He finally realizes this after watching Mingyu’s video. He hates time, but was so in love with it during his earlier
years. He loves the memories he and Mingyu shared, but he wishes that they’d continue to cause happiness rather
than heartbreak.

He whispers, “So it’s really been that long.”

Because with less tears welling his eyes, he can see the white over black as the video ends with:

For the pessimistic guy I always refused to call hyung. Here’s to being in love for approximately 7 years, 8 months,
2 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours, and 15 minutes. I love you. I’m sorry.

31
December 25 , 2017
th

When the sun shadows into night and the moon wakes up the stars during the last few hours of Christmas, Wonwoo’s
eating dinner with his family. The table’s loud as Minsuh and Chan share their story about his last dance recital –
something about the lights going out in the midst of a one-foot spin – and their parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and
siblings laugh and snicker. And compared to nine years ago this is different, because Wonwoo’s finally taking part
in his family’s talks and laughs and complaints. His chin’s no longer pressed to his collarbones in shyness, and he
doesn’t just let the plate of his mother’s spicy chicken pass over his head. He speaks up for once – makes everyone
laugh, even.

Things are different now. He’s a brand new person.

Finally being able to smile without force is relieving, to Wonwoo. The stretch comes naturally, and every time it
happens he can feel himself becoming lighter. He soaks in every moment of happiness like it’s his last, using up his
laughter like he’s wasting the last breath stored in his lungs and moving until he feels like falling. Everything he does
he cherishes, because if there could be one thing he learned in the past few months it’d be to put his heart into
whatever he does.

“Hyung?”

Wonwoo looks up from his plate with a short hum, his eye wide as his attention’s brought to Chan sitting across from
him. His cousin’s grinning, lips red from the spicy sauce, and has his eyebrows raised expectantly. He asks, “Do you
have any stories to share?” and Wonwoo sits up a little as he looks around. All eyes are on him, sharing an equal
amount of interest while they wait for him to say something. Smiling a closed smile, he wipes his mouth with a
napkin and says, “Well, there’s this really funny thing that happened to Jihoon and I back when we were still
roommates.”

The story actually isn’t all that funny – with a sense of humor like Wonwoo’s, you can’t really expect much out of
him – but his family members laugh anyway; not awkwardly, but really, actually laugh. And they don’t just laugh
because they think they have to; no, they laugh because they’re happy to hear Wonwoo speak comfortably again.
The small spark of joy in his voice is all they need to feel like everything’s okay. Finally, things are how they should
be – but even better.

Chan’s grinning over the song Jihoon wrote him for Christmas when Minsuh kicks Wonwoo from under the table
and mouths, “All okay,” with kind eyes. Wonwoo nods and repeats her to confirm that, yes he is definitely okay now.
Nothing feels better than being able to confidently say he’s just fine where he currently is.

The food is completely gone at this point, but the table’s still loud and active with bickering from the younger family
members and chatter from everyone else. While listening to his father talk about the new bike he got his wife for the
holidays, Wonwoo’s phone rings. He checks the caller ID, sees that it’s Seokmin and politely excuses himself from
the table.

He’s leaning against the wall in the hallway when he answers, “Merry fucking Christmas,” and smiles when he hears
a loud laugh at the other end.

“Uh– Wow, okay, I was going to ask if you were okay, but” – Seokmin laughs again – “looks like I don’t have to.
What’ve you been up to?” There’s a loud thud accompanied by a high-pitched screech. “JUN-HYUNG, WHAT ARE
YOU– Oh, my God.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before he replies, “I just spent the day with my family; you know, bought a couple last
minute presents from the gas station, painted Gerald the Sea Lion on Minsuh’s back–“

“Gerald the– What the actual fuck?”

“–and helped my mom cook dinner. It’s been a good Christmas.”

He senses that Seokmin’s nodding, and it makes him smile wide enough that he bites his bottom lip. “Ah, sounds
fun. Really. I’m kind of stuck with Jun-hyung and Minghao this Christmas, so” – He sighs – “I kind of feel like a
lonely, single man. Do you know how rude they can be? They asked me for a threesome because they thought it’d
make me leave.”

Wonwoo snorts, and he stares down at his toes over the static silence between them. He’s thinking, allowing the lack
of sound to help him decide whatever he’s contemplating on. Then, the same time Seokmin says, “Well, I guess
you’re busy right now, so–“ Wonwoo interrupts him and asks, “Are you free on New Year’s Eve?” His toes curl.

He thinks he hears Seokmin choke on air or something. It’s a strangled sound that forces a cough out of his throat,
and Wonwoo winces at the way it scratches the receiver. It’s unpleasant to hear, especially though the phone – like
listening to porn-y ASMR with bondage or some shit, which actually isn’t erotic. At all. Just very, very disturbing.

“N-no, I’m completely free on New Year’s Eve. Why?”

Seokmin’s words spit out in haste, and it makes Wonwoo smile again. “Do you want to, I don’t know, watch Jihoon’s
first solo concert with me and then have three-AM breakfast together?”

“Uh” – Seokmin clears his throat – “sure, yes, of course. Sounds like it’ll be fun. Just, you know, text me whatever
you have planned and I’ll follow whatever.”
Smiling, a simple, “Okay,” comes Wonwoo’s response. Chan then appears and tells him to help with cleanup, and
the elder nods. “I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Seokmin.”

“Merry Christmas, Wonwoo.”

After that, Wonwoo does as he’s told and helps Minsuh and his aunt clean the dining table as everybody else gathers
in the living room to watch Despicable Me. As Minsuh handles washing the plates, he leaves the bulk of trash outside
the house and his aunt sweeps the floors. He checks his phone for the time on his way back inside. There’s a flutter
in his gut when he reads, “8:15 PM.” Removing his slippers, he walks to the kitchen and calls for Minsuh. He holds
up his phone when she looks over her shoulder, and right away she smiles and nods.

“Happy anniversary,” she chimes.

Sticking a thumbs up, Wonwoo says, “If I get frostbite, you know the drill,” and she laughs.

“Hey” – Minsuh flicks soapy water at Wonwoo, smiling when he flinches – “the least you can say is ‘thank you.’”

He replies, “Thank yooouuu,” with mocking kissy faces, and he jolts back the same time Minsuh threatens to lunge
at him.

On the steps that lead to the porch, Wonwoo digs through the pocket of his hoodie. When he feels his skin make
contact with folded wafer-thin paper, his lips purse and he keeps his hand there. Finally, he moves his feet until they
abandon the creaky wood of the steps for the stiff winter grass patching the front of his house.

Standing on his lawn under the blanket of night and buried in the bite of winter, he pauses and looks down at his
latter hand. The waterbeds of his palms cut deep from different parts of his skin, and he faces them to the sky as he
tilts his head up, puts the back of his hand in view and spreads his fingers. This time, he doesn’t count. This time,
Wonwoo simply appreciates how the stars glisten between the spaces and neighbor each other lovingly. With
adoration in his eyes, he clenches his fist like he’s grabbing the stars, and then puts his hand back down.

He sits, leans back on his hands for support, and nibbles off the peeling skin from his lips. It’s cold, but snow hasn’t
arrived yet, and that’s okay. He can wait, because there is no rush for change to happen. Like this, brisk air palming
his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t mind not having snow. He lies down and closes his eyes, thinking.

When Wonwoo looks up again he almost thinks his eyes never opened. It’s black, but not pitch black, for glitter spills
over the black canvas of the night sky, seemingly scattered for an infinite number of miles. The moon stands
elegantly, a subtle glow orbiting around it, and peers over the city to ensure that children are settling well and their
families are safe. Wonwoo sighs, his breath barely visible as it floats up and fogs the sky for less than a second before
dispersing into nothing. He blinks and lays there, flat on his back, with nothing to fill the void of his absent thoughts.

“Call me a copy cat,” Wonwoo says aloud, cringing at how crazy he must sound, “but I don’t think it was fair that
you got to make a goodbye video and I didn’t, so I made one. Kind of. It’s more of a speech, and I know how much
you hate those, but bare with me.

He clears his throat as he digs through his sweater pocket again. He pulls out a folded piece of paper, unfolds it, then
holds it above his head.

To my greatest friend Kim Mingyu,

You’re fucking insane.

To think that you actually considered death in your plans is the craziest thing you’ve done in the twenty years you
had lived. I think you seriously went crazy for a moment. I also think that you’re a liar, because you told me you’d
live forever. I can’t stand people who lie to me. Liar.

But I miss you.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. And I will think, say and write this phrase until I can’t remember you anymore –
which is, unfortunately, hard to do because you’re a memorable person. It’s kind of annoying, honestly.

Don’t take this as some “letting go,” type of goodbye, because you know I can’t do that. I can never, and will never,
leave your side. There’s this ever present feeling of attachment that’s weighing me down whenever I try to fight my
way up, and it’s… tiring. I can’t let go of you – not today, not tomorrow, not in the idle future – yet the universe is
telling me, “Move on. Don’t let the memories trap you in your adolescent time, because it’s time to leave; to grow
up.

Honestly, Gyu... moving on is hard. Growing up is harder.

And there’s this pang in my heart that refuses to leave, and despite how I’ve learned to let go it remains. I’m happy,
but in pain; smiling, but aching all over. Loneliness has somehow crawled in without warning, and there isn’t
anything that can fill the gap you’ve created. I guess this is what loss does to you.

Sometimes I’m really happy, but there are other times when I sit there in my room and wonder what I could’ve done
to fix things myself, so I cry. I become sad and miserable, and it’s hard to overcome. Then I remember how I found
comfort in the strangest place – in the strangest person; a person with the kindest heart, purest soul, most beautiful
eyes and sickeningly contagious smile. That person was you. I saw this face for years and I was never tired of it. You
opened doors to a new life, Gyu. I can’t express my gratitude enough.

I’m sorry for giving up on you, for never talking to you about what went wrong with us. We were both held back by
fear and apprehension, and now look. It was both of our faults. But I still loved you, even after I tried letting go the
first time.

Thank you for giving me a life worth living. Thank you for making me feel and experience things that I eventually
learned from. Without you, I wouldn’t be Jeon Wonwoo; I’d be the same introverted boy I was nine years ago. I
enjoyed our years together as friends, as part lovers, and simply as you and I.

It’s been an arduous journey, my love. Nonetheless, I’d like to relive our short time together, and I hope that the
universe will one day grant me that wish.

Again, I’m sorry. And I forgive you. And I love you so, so much.

Goodbye,
Jeon Wonwoo

And that’s it; that’s his letter and final goodbye to Mingyu. After months of typing and retyping – thinking and
rethinking – he finally finds closure for himself, and he can’t be more at peace. The depression is already fading,
leaving little traces of bitter feelings, but something tells him he’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay because
he’s willing to try and build a new beginning after cleaning the shattered shards leftover from his past. He’ll be okay,
because he isn't holding on anymore.

Loosening your grip on something pointless to keep holding onto is hard, even if the person at the other end had
already released it a long time ago. It’s hard when that thing you’re holding is a rope of memories braided with time
 and emotions. It’s hard when your mind never stops replaying the image of a twelve year-old boy showing up at your
door with a bag of DVD’s and a toothy grin; the image of a seventeen year-old boy wearing a crown of daisies and
a soggy white shirt. It’s hard when you don’t want to let go, although you know you have to eventually. It’s beyond
more than just hard but Wonwoo finally decides to release and move on, because that’s what you do for someone
you genuinely love – and Wonwoo genuinely loves Mingyu with every bit of his existence.

Wonwoo moves his arm up and tucks it beneath his head, his fingers pillowed by the grass rooted in the dirt. He
smiles fondly at the sky and says, “The stars look beautiful tonight.”

And somewhere, all the way in the back of his mind, he hears the voice of his best friend – the voice of Kim Mingyu
– reply:

Extremely. Happy anniversary, Wonwoo.

“Happy anniversary, Mingyu.”

END.

32
(What if things ended differently?)

September 12 , 2017
th

College can really fucking suck, but you don’t need to be a student to know that. Wonwoo’s had more stress
pimples to count in the past few years of being an engineering major, and that number can’t compare to how much
work he’s had to do academically. Despite the cons, though, he still managed to meet people like Soonyoung and
Jihoon along the way.

Okay, maybe that’s also a con.

Wonwoo hisses, “Can you stop that?” to Soonyoung, who’s sitting behind him and flicking eraser shreds at his ear
during an early as fuck lecture. Soonyoung’s ass isn’t even supposed to be there, because it belongs behind a counter
with a barista visor on his head. “No, I’m trying to get fired,” he bites back, and Wonwoo sticks a middle finger at
him.

He doesn’t get it, because why would Soonyoung want to get fired from a job that actually pays well? The café makes
bank since it’s right in the food’s district and neighbors campus, so tips and business are never an issue. His co-
workers are great too, and Wonwoo knows because he’s stopped by multiple times to drop off his friend’s phone.

(“Again?” Wonwoo would ask, and Soonyoung would say, “I’m getting old. Alzheimer’s disease could only be a
few days ahead of me,” and then Wonwoo would snap, “Stop forgetting. I hate looking at your lock screen of my
teeth; it’s fucking creepy, man.”)

“How did Soonyoung even manage to sneak in here?” Jihoon whispers to his roommate.

Shrugging, Wonwoo huffs, “Fuck, I don’t even know. It’s Soonyoung, for God’s sake.” He glares. “You aren’t
supposed to be here, either.”

“I am a musician-slash-song-writer thirsting for inspiration,” he answers. Then, “Also, Jisoo-hyung asked me to take
notes for him because he has to go to the DMV or some shit.”

It’s too early for this. Wonwoo grabs his notebook and bites it, making some animalistic noise that sounds a lot like
a quiet cry for help. Jihoon snickers and continues to take notes on his laptop, and Soonyoung is still flicking those
damned eraser shreds. Kill me, kill me, fucking kill me, repeats in his head because he can’t focus with his friends in
the same room as him. They’re a disturbance to all human kind and me, he thinks.

But overall, Wonwoo’s time in college hasn’t been all that shitty. He attends parties to watch Jisoo get overhyped by
his peers – he’s the life of the party, really – has a job that he’s finally satisfied with, gets to listen to Jihoon’s music
before they’re released on SoundCloud, and has eaten so much food that it’s all been going right to his cheeks.
College is fun, and he’s happy.

When the lecture concludes with a literal BANG, Wonwoo stands from his chair and turns and reaches over to pinch
Soonyoung’s nose. “You’re so annoying,” he complains, as his friend’s nasally and painful whines tell him to let go
before he bleeds. Then Jihoon laughs, but Wonwoo uses his other hand to pull his ear.

“Both of you,” he says, “have no idea what personal space is, do you?”

“I’m trying to get fired from that hell hole!”

“Jisoo-hyung– Jisoo-hyung!”

Wonwoo looks up and sees Jisoo squeezing past students to enter the room. He let’s go of his friends – “Is it possible
to get a bruise on your ear?” Jihoon asks, and Soonyoung just groans – and says hi. Jisoo grins.

“What did they do?”

“They were them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They’re annoying, that’s what!”

“Chill before you explode, Wonton,” Soonyoung interrupts, but hides under the table when Wonwoo flinches at him.

Jisoo laughs, loud. “Okay, Tom and Jerry, let’s just get out of here before the professor says something.” He slings
an arm around Jihoon. “Brunch is on me.”

“I completely forgot that brunch is a thing. What time is it?” Jihoon asks, leaning into Jisoo.

“Uh” – Soonyoung checks the time on his phone as he wipes off the remaining eraser shreds from the table – “half
past ten.”

“Kids eat for half off around this time,” Wonwoo hints, nudging Jihoon.

He scowls. “I’m ten years past that, asshat.”

The four of them leave the building together and talk about their plans to go bowling. Soonyoung teases Wonwoo
about seeing Jeonghan again, and Jihoon makes a face. “You have sex on the first date,” he gags, “and act like it
never happened the next day.” That’s when Wonwoo pokes his side and tells him that it was just a one-time thing –
never to happen again. “Still. It’s gross.”

Wonwoo’s showing Jisoo the Pokémon he caught in class on their way out the building. But Soonyoung stops at the
end of the steps and doesn’t move, which makes Wonwoo bump into him from behind.

“Dude, are you okay?” Jihoon asks. He looks at the same direction Soonyoung’s facing, though, and his expression
changes. “Oh, shit.”
“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung whispers, like the Loch Ness Monster is right in front of them. “Do we run or just awkwardly
stand here?”

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What?” Then he switches his gaze, and everything softens. “Oh.”

There, right by the water fountain, is none other than Kim Mingyu. He’s grown a lot more, if that’s even possible.
He’s staring at the four boys with his mouth hung open slightly, like he doesn’t really know what to do, and is holding
a melting cone of ice cream. The frozen dairy – or not frozen anymore, actually – drips down to his knuckles and
leaks to the ground. Just by looking at him, Wonwoo can already see that he’s changed significantly in the past year.
He’s not wearing a crewneck or a plain T-shirt; instead he’s layering for once, a black and white flannel over a white
shirt. His pants are the same, but he finally got rid of his jacked-up converse.

“Uh–“ Before Jihoon can continue, Soonyoung grabs his hand and they run away. “Sorry, Wonwoo!” they shout.

“Hey! Guys!” He stomps his foot. “I REALLY HATE BOTH OF YOU!”

He calms down a bit when Jisoo places a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to talk it out,” he whispers, “and I
mean actually talk things out. With Mingyu.”

Wonwoo looks desperate when he says, “Jisoo, please, I don’t think I can.”

But Jisoo gives him a half-encouraging pat on the back before he follows the others in suit.

Reluctantly, Wonwoo looks at Mingyu again. There’s a slight pang in his chest when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t
know if he should take it as a good or bad thing. Mingyu smiles a little – it looks instinctive – as he lifts his hand to
wave. Wonwoo just purses his lips, nods and approaches Mingyu.

There they stand – skin, flesh and beating hearts. Mingyu’s standing across from Wonwoo now, some distance
separating them but nothing’s done to close it. Ironically, seeing the familiar glow of tan skin and crooked teeth,
Wonwoo’s never felt more at home.

“Hey, Wonwoo.”

It sounds pathetic when he says it, but Wonwoo still replies, “Hi.”

“It’s been a while,” Mingyu tries, and Wonwoo simply nods. “Do you mind if we talk for a bit?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea–“

“Please.” His eyes shine in the light he’s in. “I know it’s been way too long, but I wanted to figure some things out
before seeing you.”

Wonwoo’s eyes wander as he tries to think of some excuse, yet nothing comes to mind. So, with his hands tight on
his messenger bag, he says okay and prepares to hear what Mingyu has to say. He doesn’t expect his first words to
be: “Seungcheol-hyung wants me to be happy.”

“Everyone wants you to be happy,” Wonwoo murmurs.

That makes Mingyu smile.

“Even you?”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer.

Mingyu takes a deep breath before he starts talking. He spills everything; from how he knew Wonwoo before actually
meeting, to when and how he fell in love, to regretting his life choices, to never wanting to leave Wonwoo ever again
– he doesn’t leave a single thing out. Every word and beat is released with pure love, emotion and even ache. There’s
so much to the point where Wonwoo can feel Mingyu’s sincerity press against his chest.

He feels like crying. He doesn’t want to cry because he’s overwhelmed or touched by what Mingyu says, but he
wants to cry because this is what he’s been waiting for. For the longest time, Wonwoo wanted to hear, “I fell in love
with you because,” and, “I’m sorry for,” and so much more, he can’t even summarize.

“Shit, Gyu,” Wonwoo laughs, wiping his nose, “look what you did. Do you mean everything you said?”

“Everything.”

“Okay.”

“And” – Suddenly, Mingyu bows at a perfect ninety degree angle and thrusts his arm out, the ice cream dripping to
Wonwoo’s shoes – “PLEASE FORGIVE ME, BECAUSE I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I REGRET
EVERYTHING THAT I’VE PUT YOU THROUGH AND I REALLY CAN’T STAND BEING AWAY FROM
YOU ANY LONGER!”

A heartbeat. Then two. And another. Wonwoo can’t stop smiling and his heart won’t stop racing and his stomach
flips. Mingyu is, without a doubt, the most childish person to exist. Wonwoo loves it.

He grabs the cone and says, “Hey, skyscraper” – Mingyu looks up, but flinches back as the vanilla ice cream meets
his nose. He thinks he’s being rejected, and his heart falls for a second. It’s put back into place when he sees Wonwoo
smiling – “I forgive you. You don’t need to bribe me with ice cream, because I’m happy now.”

Mingyu grins. “Because of me, right?”

“Because you’re finally giving me a reason to.”

“So” – He crinkles his nose – “basically because of me.”

Wonwoo shoves the ice cream at his nose again, laughing when Mingyu winces. “Don’t get cocky.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, expressions softening. And regardless of how ridiculous Mingyu looks
with ice cream on his face, Wonwoo still thinks he’s beautiful as he is. And Mingyu, with a light heart as he stands
in front of the man he loves, feels nothing but happiness while seeing Wonwoo smile wholeheartedly again.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu repeats.

Wonwoo reaches up to pat Mingyu’s head. “I know you are.” Then his hand trails down to his chest and wraps around
his waist, and he’s hugging Mingyu. “It’s okay now.”

Mingyu hugs back tightly. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

“I was going to ask if I could kiss you, but I have ice cream on my face and hands.”

Wonwoo snorts, pulling away to get the to-go pack of Kleenex tissues from his bag. He takes some out and wipes
away the ice cream, smiling even more at the faces Mingyu makes. “There,” he says, “all clean.”

“Hm.” Mingyu holds Wonwoo’s cheeks in his hands and dabs away his tears with his sleeve. “So can I kiss you?”
“Can you?”

He rolls his eyes. “May I?”

“Yes you may.”

Mingyu still has his hands on Wonwoo’s cheeks, and Wonwoo’s are somewhere around the latter’s waist between
his shirt and flannel. Their noses brush, and right when they’re about to kiss–

“KEEP IT PG, KIDS!” they hear Soonyoung yell, along with Jihoon’s exaggerated gagging. “I’M STILL A
QUARTER OF A VIRGIN HERE!”

Wonwoo sighs in annoyance, hiding his face in Mingyu’s shoulder as the others snicker. “Of course,” he says.

Mingyu kisses the top of his head and murmurs, “Looks like we’re kissing some other time.”

“Sorry.”

“We have the rest of the day to kiss, you know.”

From a distance, Jihoon goes, “YOU’RE BOTH DISGUSTING,” and Wonwoo flicks the bird.

So they don’t make out like couples do in the movies, but Mingyu does kiss Wonwoo’s nose and say, “I love you,”
and Wonwoo thinks it’s even better. Truly, the small gestures are worth more than others. Unfortunately, it ends
when Wonwoo says, “I have work in a couple hours and I’ve barely eaten breakfast, so I kind of have to go.”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu replies, “I need to check in my hotel anyway. Also, you dropped the ice cream.”

“Soonyoung will clean it up.”

“NO I WON’T.”

“Yes, he will.”

Mingyu laughs. “I guess I should go then?” Wonwoo looks apologetic as he nods, but Mingyu kisses his forehead to
assure that it’s okay. “Call me when you get off. Jisoo told me you guys are going bowling tonight.”

“He knew you were coming?”

“Kind of.” He walks away and waves with both hands. Rather than saying bye, he just shouts, “Don’t stress at work!”

This time, watching Mingyu part from him doesn’t feel painful. Wonwoo instead feels satisfied and light – feelings
that strayed from him for too long. But Mingyu brought those feelings back. Wonwoo’s beyond thankful for that.

“Mingyu-ah!” Wonwoo smiles widely when Mingyu turns around, his brunet hair brushing over his eyebrows as
they sway against his skin. His eyes are big with curiosity, and Wonwoo can’t stop himself from falling in love even
more than he already has. To prove it, he shouts, “I love you,” from across the pavement.

And Wonwoo shouts, says, whispers and murmurs how much he loves Mingyu from this day onward; from basic
reminders, to special occasions, to times of disagreement and hardship, to the day they marry, to lustful nights, to
blissful mornings, to the day he recites his eulogy - Wonwoo will never say otherwise, because he doesn't want to
miss any chances. Not anymore, regardless of what has happened in the past couple years. With all of those days -
all of the tears and frustration - pushed aside, Wonwoo and Mingyu can finally breathe and say, “I love you.” And
they can say it as many times they want.
 Their mistakes don't define their love, because whatever they have is real; because everything they feel is genuine;
because in the end, Wonwoo and Mingyu will always remain reserved in each other’s hearts – and they will never
let go ever again. In a world full of unfortunate events and second chances, that's all that matters.

THE SECOND ACTUAL END.

please read if you want to learn more about and counting, or have any questions whatsoever. i hope i’m able to
answer most of them.
skip to the end to fill out a short survey that will help me evaluate my progress!

welcome to the end.

(and i’m totally saying that in the most doomed way possible)

starting a story is hard, but ending a story is fucking hard. to me, at least. you need to know how to connect to your
readers so that they actually know the story has ended - so that there’s this lasting effect - and that depends on whether
you want them to cry or squeal or flip a table. i hope i made some connection w/ all of you.

here’s the thing about ‘and counting’: writing this story was a way for me to overcome depression, openly talk about
my biggest fears and teach others what i’ve learned in just 15 years of my life. i’m afraid of relationships, losing
another person i love, not being prepared for the unexpected and so much more it’s almost cowardly. but to overcome
some of these fears, i knew i had to talk about it. writing is my way of doing it.

wonwoo and mingyu were my fears turned into fictional characters. wonwoo was the side of me that’s always
getting peer pressured into doing things i don’t want to do; he was the side of me that missed people too much and
never spoke up. mingyu was the side of me that’s too scared of attachment and change; he was the part that made too
many mistakes in less than a lifetime.

Q&A:

If Mingyu and Wonwoo were in love for so long, how did Wonwoo leave so easily? It was 7 years and he 'let go' very
easily, of course he did have the little bit of mourning but still. I just feel like it would take more time to get over a 7 year
friendship/relationship thingy?

I based most of And Counting on my personal experiences. I lost a lot of people who were very close to me. What I
learned through these experiences is that you don’t spend the majority of your time mourning; instead, you
occasionally feel empty and incomplete at the randomest times. You’ll be able to smile, but you’ll still feel aching in
your chest. You can laugh, but once you’re alone and consumed by your thoughts you can break down. In the end,
however, you learn from it. The person I lost was only in my life for 7 years, 10 months and a day. Despite knowing
them for that long, I still smiled after a week of their death because 1) there were people there to support me and 2)
I knew they would’ve wanted me to move on. Loss is a lot more different than some people think.

Did Mingyu plan to die?

okay this question was probs asked the most on wattpad. answer: no, he did not plan to die. i think a lot of readers
have forgotten that seungcheol basically gave him the sudden idea to “prepare for all possibilities,” and bc of the
state mingyu was in he thought of death. he really didn't think he’d actually die.
Was Mingyu's death part of your initial plan when you started "And Counting"?

definitely did not plan for that to happen. i’ll explain later in this q&a, but basically And Counting was supposed to
be updated every single day, only have 12 chapters and revolve around the innocence of first loves and happy endings.
things changed over time and i really hit rock bottom around january or february bc of personal reasons and lack of
motivation and i literally felt myself get worse at writing. i guess you could say i was a bit depressed, and that kinda
affected the story. there were a lot of things i needed to get off my chest, so i decided to write about what i was going
through without directly mentioning how i felt. it really helped me overcome all the shit i had to face.

i really do feel sorry to those who lost interest ini the story bc of mingyu’s death or were so attached that their hearts
felt heavy. but now you all know why i really decided to do that. forgive me please OTL

Why was the video shown in September when Mingyu was gonna confess in August?

the complete truth: all the numbers were completely random when i first started the story bc i didn’t think it’d be this
serious and it was just going to be a short fic of 12 chapters. bc it was already in the description, i had to work w/ it.
i guess you could say that mingyu thought, “if i was given another chance at confessing, i’d do it on this day.” mingyu
had to confess in august so he could do it asap bc wonwoo would most likely be back in college around september.

How did you come up with the storyline of And Counting?

before i wrote and counting (roughly around mid-july), i had surprise visits from two of my older brothers. i hadn’t
seen them in 6 years before that and they literally just popped out of nowhere and i was like wtf is happening.
ANYWAY. the youngest – 21 years-old, and let’s call him John for now – had a gf – let’s call her Beth – who started
off as his bff in middle school, but they ended up dating in high school, then broke up but remained bff’s regardless.
he asked me “hey did i ever tell you how i met her?” and i was like lol no. so he told me how Beth’s older sister dated
our older brother, and Beth knew that John was her age so she asked to talk to him. basically, everything that happened
between wonwoo and mingyu in chapter 1 (aside from getting shoved off the bed) happened to my brother and his
bff. even the way they talked (yes including the myspace awkwardness) happened irl. i wanted to write about it.

it’s less complicated than it sounds…

Why the title ‘And Counting’?

because 7 years, 8 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours, and 15 minutes and counting.

Why weren’t there that many chapters?

it was originally supposed to be a short fic of about 12 chapters or so, and my goal was to update every single night
before i started freshman year. because of the number of ideas i started to have, however, i decided to extend it even
longer.

You told some of your readers that you wanted a happy ending. What made you change your mind? How many endings
did you come up with?
 i had other ideas for a while but i always decided against them. i changed my mind one day and made a huge U turn.

i had about 6 endings in mind? lol i was so indecisive i stressed over it for a whole month. some endings required too
much plot change so i didn’t use them (sadly)

What were the endings?

the first ending involved a whole different storyline (it was the ending i came up w/ when i still planned on doing
only 12 chapters). in this storyline, wonwoo and mingyu are only separated by university and high school, bc wonwoo
graduated before him. idea: wonwoo confesses to mingyu and he’ll talk a lot. then mingyu doesn't respond bc he’s
in shock and wonwoo thinks he screwed up, but mingyu hugs him really tight and says, “holy shit, this is probably
the most you’ve said to me in the eight years we’ve known each other.” then they kiss and ta-da! happy ending!

the second ending was the ending i wrote for the alt ending.

the third ending was really empty and lacked too much to give this story purpose. i was going to have wonwoo pass
over the treehouse to a different set of kids so he could move on (in this plot, mingyu doesn't fall off the bridge and
they’re finally together)

in my fourth ending, wonwoo and mingyu meet again after about three years of letting go. they reminisce together
then agree on being friends again; however, mingyu breaks the news of getting married to donghyun a month later,
just when wonwoo’s falling in love again (and donghyun isn’t a jackass in the story) and wonwoo learns to move on
(there was this whole plot to it that’d be too much to explain here lol)(i mostly liked the last scene for this ending -
wonwoo’s watching everyone at the reception and realizes stuff and etc etc. everything else was eh)

my fifth ending was the actual ending.

my sixth ending was sort of a continuation of the original. mingyu does fall, but he survives and loses a huge chunk
of his memory. he remembers donghyun as his best friend/love of his life, and doesn't remember wonwoo at all.
wonwoo tries to help mingyu remember, but his plans always fail. in the end, mingyu finally sees the pictures they
took when they were younger - and even though he still can’t remember anything, he asks wonwoo to tell him their
story and what they used to do. i wanted it to end with wonwoo saying, “for starters, we were messed up. and i fell
in love with you. and i think you fell in love with me,” at a coffee shop, while mingyu smiles as he listens. the last
sentence would be something like, “it was the start of falling in love all over again.” but if mingyu lost his memory,
he can't explain things that weren't explained before. i had already written the last 3 or 4 chapters when i thought of
this idea + i didn't wanna make the fic longer so i was like i gotta gooooo LOL

Lesson?

take chances. forgive/apologize while you still can. move on. grow some balls.

Favorite line(s)?

umm.. i honestly don’t have any. i like what i write, but idk any specific lines that i favor over others

Why did you name Joshua/Jisoo after his grandpa?

 literally no idea.

Why did it take so long for romance to develop between Wonwoo and Mingyu?

everyone's been waiting for the romance to come out, and it's not a bad thing. but something you guys should know
is that and counting was supposed to be like a debut fic for me (actually, my debut fic was “Love Reeks (But Wonwoo
Doesn’t)” but lol i didn’t try very hard in that one bc i wrote it in one night) so the romance was kinda lowkey and
very slow in development. i mean, and counting's overall concept was supposed to revolve around the innocence and
multiple stages of young love. it's slow, and it's also bc i feel like my characters should learn to love themselves
before finding out that they love another person. plus, you can’t expect them to fall in love in the first 6 chapters bc
they were still really young.

How come they were never together?

think of it like this: mingyu keeps running and running, and wonwoo keeps chasing and chasing. wonwoo eventually
gets tired, so the game ends; but mingyu still wants to play, so he chases wonwoo instead. that’s what their love was
like. idk how else to describe it lol

Why do the epilogue and alt ending sound similar at the end?

they're supposed to sound the same but take place in different settings/circumstances

Who or what inspired your characters?

my friends, fears and passions.

Did you ever feel like giving up?

SO MANY TIMES but lol we made it fam. actually, i realized i was too busy to post a chapter every day so i almost
deleted the whole thing by the time i had written like the third chapter. HOWEVER. one of my twitter mutuals jeybi
liked it and asked when i’d update, and that was really all it took for me to continue.

Will you continue writing?

yes, but i’m taking a break from chaptered fics for now

What now?

please take this survey and help me evaluate my progress! survey: google forms
 Acknowledgments

for my brother, whose love story between him and his bff/ex-gf inspired this fic. words can’t express how facepalm
worthy your phone call story was, but i guess it inspired your little sister to write something. i’ll reward you w/
anything that doesn’t involve me hooking you up w/ that girl from the kabob restaurant.

for my dad. i miss you.

for my friends faith, jasmine, trixie and alexa. the four of you have supported me and my writing for the longest time,
and i’d never have the confidence to continue and counting w/o any you. i love you guys!

for my freshman year english teacher. paying attention in class taught me more than just the story of cyrano de
bergerac and how to properly use a semicolon. thank you.

for the fictional mingyu and wonwoo, bc i’m so attached to these two.

for those of you who’ve supported me during my times of stress and frustration. keeping up w/ and counting was one
of the hardest things about writing this story, but many of you encouraged me to move forward.

for (i can't believe i'm saying this) introvert boy. somehow, you inspired me to write.

thank you for embarking on this journey w/ me. through my never ending author’s notes (bc hell, i talk too much in
those) and many song recommendations, we have finally reached an end. you’ve all surprised me greatly w/ the
amount of positive reviews this fic has received. from your tweets to your tumblr posts to your comments - i am
beyond amazed at how far things have gotten. and although i didn’t reach my goal of 1000 subs, i’m still very happy.
big thanks for being a part of my life, and i’m saying that to both and counting and its readers.

shareen / heywonwoo

More unanswered questions? Comment or ask through twitter/tumblr/ask.fm/curiouscat and I’ll answer as
fast as I can!
 BOUND
Mingyu, a great demon, is forced to make a contract with a human boy. He wants nothing more than the contract to be
fulfilled quickly, but what happens when the demon starts to develop feelings for the human?

1
Kim Mingyu was a name that brought upon awe and fear in the demon world. He was powerful, and his great
powers only came second to the Demon Lord, Hong Jisoo. No one dared go against him, nor would they speak
ill of him behind his back. As feared as he was, he was also extremely respected. Even if someone did not
recognize him as he walked by, his majestic features were enough of an indicator to show that he was not to
be messed with. He had silky black hair, and sharp red eyes, a common feature of higher level demons. His
teeth were beautifully menacing, with sharp canines. His wings were also very beautiful. Demon wings were
not all the same, and Mingyu’s were a rare kind. They were so large that the tips would drag on the floor
somewhat, and they were covered in silky, black feathers. Feathers were very unusual for demon wings, as
most were either full of shiny obsidian scales, or were bare like leather. His wings were what made him stand
out the most appearance-wise. Otherwise, it was his extremely charismatic aura that made other demons look
his way.

Mingyu, being a high class demon, spent most of his time in the demon world. Others would have to
frequently go to the human world to carry out tasks, such as granting humans wishes for their souls, conjure
up natural disasters, or lulling people to their deaths. Many humans find demons as evil, and most demons are
fine with that, but demons play an important role in balancing life in the human world. The human world can
only support so much life, but humans tend to ignore that and reproduce at their own will, and quickly
threaten to overpopulate the world. For that reason, demons, for the sake of the world, bring death upon
people. As horrible as it seems to humans, demons are a necessity for the world.

When people die, their souls get taken from their bodies. People who die from the work of demons end up
having their souls taken to the underworld, while people who die naturally, from sickness or accidents or old
age, had their souls taken to heaven. Although humans tend to hint otherwise, accidents and sickness are not
the work of demons, and are really just chance occurrences. That is why the souls that die this way are taken
by angels. Because the death was not caused by a demon. Angels do not have the ability, nor the will, to bring
death to people, so they take the souls from humans that died not by demon hands. It doesn’t make much of
a difference where their souls ended up, but that was just the agreement made by Jisoo and the archangel in
heaven.

While Mingyu often stayed in the underworld, Jisoo sometimes had to go to the human world or heaven to
check that things are in balance. Then he would issue commands based on what he observed. Usually while
he was away, Mingyu would take charge of the underworld. However, Mingyu wasn’t always as serious as
Jisoo was. For the week Jisoo went to the human world, Mingyu was especially bored. More so than usual. He
never made any commands when he was in charge of the underworld, but he found himself suddenly curious
of what it would be like to command so many underlings. He decided that he wanted to try something, but
nothing huge. He didn’t want Jisoo to notice, after all.

So what was it that the great Mingyu did? He issued a command to whip up a small typhoon in Japan. Nothing
out of the ordinary. Nothing too deadly. If someone gets swept up in the tides, then so be it. Mingyu observed
his work in action through a looking glass that he conjured. It was great. Even though it was only a small
storm, Mingyu felt mightier than usual. That is, until he heard Jisoo, who wasn’t supposed to some back until
the day after.
“KIM MINGYU WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Mingyu slowly turned to see his leader, furious. His red eyes glowed more than Mingyu had ever seen them to.

“My lord, it was just a small storm…”

“What? Did you think I wouldn’t notice a storm that I didn’t intend for? What were you thinking? I carefully
plan these things, you know? I don’t just make natural disasters happen when I feel like it. Why do you think I
have to meet with the archangel Seokmin all the time? Do you think we're just having a tea party or
something? Mingyu…”

“I.. I didn’t know, my lord.. I apologize…”

Jisoo sighed and brought a hand up to his temple, massaging what seemed like a sudden headache.

“Do you know how much this messes up my plans? Mingyu, Now I have to make new plans with the archangel
to clean up your mess..”

“I’m sorry, my lord. I will accept whatever punishment you give me.”

Jisoo closed his eyes, his hand still at his temple. He contemplated on a suitable punishment for his actions,
but took into consideration his own lack of judgement.

“Alright, alright. It’s not like you did it on purpose. It’s not like I never told you not to do something like this, I
just assumed you wouldn’t. Out of common sense or something..”

“So, you’ll forgive me?” Mingyu’s eyes lit up in gratitude.

“No, I may understand somewhat, but I can’t let it slide… You… Make a contract with the next human that
completes a summoning. And make sure you collect his soul.”

“WHAT?”

Jisoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Mingyu asked more calmly.

“You heard me. Fulfill a contract with a human”

“But, my lord, that’s a job for the lower level demons-”

“You heard me. No questions. This is your punishment.”

“But-”

“Go now. Maybe it will help you clear your head.”

“... as you wish….”

Mingyu went to where the portals to the human world were. Surrounding them were lower level demons, all
waiting for a summoning to occur. Fights often broke out in front of them, to claim the contract, since it was a
way to increase your ranking as a demon. Making a contract with a human was the slowest way to collect
souls, but it was also the only way for the lesser demons. Mid-ranked demons were the ones that caused small
storms to collect souls, and higher demons created the more devastating natural disasters. Of course, none of
them could do it without Jisoo’s command. Once a demon reached the greatest of ranks, they were in charge
of different groups of demons, and no longer had to collect souls.. While Jisoo was in charge of all of the
demons, Mingyu was in charge of the elites. No demon could replace their ranks, until there was a high
number of dissatisfaction with the leadership and lack of efficiency. As the two were highly respected and
extremely efficient, they would likely be replaced only when they retire.

Mingyu was unhappy with his punishment because it was a job that belonged to the lowest of the lowest ranks
of demons, and may take years to complete. He thought it was too harsh for what he did, but maybe what he
did was worse than he thought.

As the lesser demons saw Mingyu approaching, they made a path for him and kneeled with respect. It was
very unusual for someone of his rank to be there, but none had the courage to ask why he appeared before
them.

“I don’t care who was next in line, the next summoning is mine.”

The demons looked at each other in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” said Mingyu sternly.

Just then, one of the portals illuminated waves of intricate colors, indicating that a human was attempting to
summon a demon.

“I guess that’s my cue..” Mingyu sighed. He wanted to get this over with quickly, but who knows who long it
would take? Depending on the request, it could take a few hours, or it could take years. He braced himself and
chanted some words to accept the summoning before he stepped into the portal. He felt himself being
launched through dimensions. It was a sensation he had long forgotten, and did not miss.

He took a step forward into the human world and looked around. He was in a room where there were white
walls, and the smell of antiseptic. He squinted at the blindingly bright lights above him. There were sharp,
steady beeping noises, and he glanced over to see where the noise was coming from. There was a figure on a
white bed, five feet away from him, hooked up to several large objects through cords. It was an eerie place.
The lack of color was uncomfortable.
“I can’t believe it worked…” said a low voice.

Mingyu turned around to see a boy looking up at him with an astonished expression, kneeling on the ground
only two feet away from him. His hand was touching the floor, at the edge of the summoning circle that he
seems to have drawn on the tile. The circle disappeared shortly, as it had been used. Mingyu squinted at the
boy. He was probably in his late teens or early adulthood in human years. The demon was annoyed by just
looking at him. It was some brat that had summoned Mingyu? He did not look forward to granting this boy’s
wishes.

“Look kid, today’s your lucky day. Not everyone ever gets to see such a high class demon. Whatever you want,
I can grant with ease compared to the other guys. You’re almost guaranteed to get anything you want.
There’s only one thing you have to understand before we do this. We demons can’t give life, and we can’t
bring someone back from the dead, got it? Now that we got that out of the way, what do you want? I don’t
want this to take long.”

The boy looked disappointed by his words. He put a hand on his knee to hoist himself up, and then looked
over at the bed. His face scrunched up in worry.

“You can’t give life, huh?”

“Is that what you wanted? Well I can’t grant you that. I guess we’re finished here.”

Mingyu was about to conjure a spell to take himself home. He figured he spent enough time here already.

“Wait!”

The boy grabbed Mingyu’s arm with both hands and looked up with pleading eyes.

“Is there any way you can wake a patient in a coma?”

Mingyu paused, taking in the boy’s words, then scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Piece of cake. Don’t tell me that’s what you want?”

The boy nodded.

“You want to seal a contract with me so you can wake a patient from a comatose state? Do you even know
what you would be giving up for such a small reward?”

“It’s not a small reward! It would mean everything to me if you could just do this one thing.”
Mingyu looked over at the figure in the bed, then back to the the boy still holding onto his hand. He shook the
boy’s hands away.

“Do what you want.”

The boy smiled, relieved and thankful.

“I’m Wonwoo. What’s your name?”

“I’m none other than the great Kim Mingyu. Remember the name kid. You should be honored to even hear it.”

He walked over to the comatose patient. As he got closer, he saw that the patient was a young male. He
didn’t look related to Wonwoo.

“Who is this? Why are you so desperate for him to wake up?”

Mingyu wasn’t that interested in hearing Wonwoo’s tale, but he was curious as to why he wanted to help this
person.

Wonwoo looked at Mignyu, then at the unconscious patient.

“His name is Seungcheol. He’s my… my love…”

Mingyu became annoyed once again.

“What? You want to surrender your soul for that sake of your lover? Of all the things it could have been,
really? Don’t make me laugh. You can easily just find someone else. It shouldn’t be that hard. Really, just give
up on the guy, is he really worth-

“Shut up! What would you know? There’s no way you would understand...”

This was definitely efficient in making Mingyu shut up. For eight seconds at least.

“Wh-what did you say? You measley human! Do you know who you’re speaking to?”

“You made it very clear who you are, and I’m making it very clear that I want you to shut up.”

Wonwoo glared at him in a way that made it hard for him to talk back. Even Jisoo rarely made him feel this
way. Just who was he to make Mingyu cower?

Mingyu awkwardly laughed. He suddenly remembered that he had not yet made a contract with the boy and
didn’t want to go through much trouble. He wanted to get his punishment over with as soon as possible.
“Ok I get it, fine. You want me to wake him up? I’ll wake him up. Just make a contract with me.”

Wonwoo looked surprised at first, but then his expression softened.

“Okay.. how do I do that?”

“You humans, always asking for a contract with demons but never knowing anything about it…”

Mingyu chanted some words to bring up an enchanted circle. It glowed on the floor of the hospital room,
where the summoning circle had been previously.

“So basically, you and I step into that circle over there. I make my mark on you and say some magic words,
and your soul is bound to me. Once I grant your wish, your soul is promised to me. Your life is cut short
depending on a lot of things. You wish can cut off a year, or maybe ten years. In your case, it depends on
how long your lover was supposed to have stayed in a coma.”

Wonwoo blushed slightly. “H-he’s my love… not my lover…”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyways, you can keep on making wishes, and you life would
just keep getting shorter. Once you’re bound to me, you can never be unbound. I can only collect your soul
once your life ends. That’s all you need to know. You’re sure you want to give up year off of your life for that
human?”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate to answer.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Mingyu sighed. How many times was that today?

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Mingyu stepped into the circle and Wonwoo followed. Mingyu turned around so that the two were face to face.
He looked into Wonwoo’s eyes, and his own started to glow a fiery red. He began his incantation, keeping eye
contact with his soon-to-be master. Wonwoo’s eyes stayed locked on Mingyu’s, as he was unable to look
away. His own eyes glowed slightly, a dark purple. A side-effect of the spell. Their surroundings were
darkening, and the circle glowed with more intensity. When Mingyu finished reciting the incantation, he
grabbed the nape of Wonwoo’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Before Wonwoo could react, he felt a strange
sensation inside his body. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, or where the sensation was coming from, but as
soon as it began, it was over. Mingyu released him, and the circle disappeared. Their surroundings returned to
normal, and Wonwoo stepped back, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Oh, you mean this kiss?” Mingyu wiped his lips. “You didn’t know? It’s how you seal the contract. It’s how I
mark your soul.”

Wonwoo looked angry and flustered. For some reason Mingyu enjoyed the sight.

“Don’t tell me that was your first?” Mingyu smirked condescendingly.

“Shut up.”

Mingyu laughed. It gave him great joy to look down upon the boy.

“Well now that we are bound by contract, what is your first command?”

“You already know what it is, must I say it again?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re still sure about this.”

“I’ve told you 300 times that I’m sure. Go on with it.”

“Insolent human…”

Wonwoo crossed his arms at the comment.

“Are all demons so slow at their job?”

Mingyu glared at Wonwoo.

“You dare insult me?”

“Am I not your master?”

“... fine”

Mingyu walked to Seungcheol, where he lie peacefully. Seungcheol breathed slowly and lightly, looking only as
if he were deep asleep. His cheekbones were prominent from his cheeks being sunken in. Mingyu stared for a
little bit, wondering how long he was unconscious like this for.

“It’s been three years,” said Wonwoo behind him.

Mingyu looked at Wonwoo, slightly impressed that he was able to love Seungcheol after all those years. Only
slightly impressed though. Slightly.
He turned back to the patient and closed his eyes. He felt powers originating from deep in his core making its
way to his hands. He raised his hands over Seungcheol’s body and focused his energy to the human in front of
him. He could feel the heat radiating from his hands and a small smile formed on his face. He kept his eyes
closed, but he could imagine Wonwoo next to him being in awe at this very moment.

After a short moment of Mingyu performing his task, he opened his eyes and lowered his hands.

“Did it work?” Wonwoo asked, as Seungcheol was not yet awake.

“Patience, human.”

Just then, the two heard a small groan coming from Seungcheol. Wonwoo’s head snapped towards his
direction, and he gasped when he saw Seungcheol’s hands twitch, trying to grab something. Wonwoo took the
hand and grasped it with great care, still watching his face. Seungcheol opened his eyes halfway, and then
squeezed them shut. He opened them again slowly, all the way, and blinked several times. He looked up at
the ceiling, then around the room, and finally at Wonwoo, who was tears running down his face.

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol.”

“Hmm? Where am I?”

Wonwoo let go of Seungcheol’s hand and hugged him as best as he could, despite the awkward positions they
were in.

“I can’t believe it, you’re finally awake. I missed you so much, Seungcheol.”

“What happened? Wonwoo, tell me.” Seungcheol wrapped an arm around the boy.

By now Wonwoo was bawling, but tried to speak anyways. He hiccupped at every other phrase, and gave up
grammar altogether.

“You were riding *hic*…. motorcycle and *hic*… truck hit you *hic*… coma*hic*… I thought you would
*hic*... die… I came *hic*.. everyday *hic*.. three years *hic*… Cheol…” once he figured he got his message
across, he buried his face into Seungcheol’s chest and cried even harder.

Just then, a couple of nurses came barging in the room. This is when Wonwoo suddenly remembered the
demon standing behind him and realized he should probably explain what he was doing there.

“Um, please *hic*... don’t mind *hic*... this guy,” he said, still hiccuping. “I can *hic*... explain, uh, um, he’s
*hic*... just…. huh?”

The nurses completely ignored Mingyu and rushed over to Seungcheol.

“He’s awake! Call for a doctor! How are you feeling Seungcheol? Do you have any pain or dizziness? Do you
know your name?”

“I.. think I’m okay. I know who I am, Choi Seungcheol.”

Wonwoo stood astonished that they rushed past Mingyu without giving him a second glance. Or a first for that
matter. Especially with his large feathered wings. Was it possible that… they couldn’t see him?

“Don’t look so surprised, you’re the only one who can see me right now. There are a lot of demons in the
human world, but humans can’t see them. The fact that you summoned me gave you the ability to see me,
but I’m the only demon you will be able to see.”

“Ah…”

“So that means I can follow you around without having to worry about other people. Of course, I can make
myself visible any time I want, but that would mean having to use my powers. Not that I can’t do it, but it
would be too much of a hassle for something so useless.”

“Wait... what?”

“It’s really a simple matter. I can change my appearance to look human too.”

“No, not that… you’re going to follow me?”

“Oh.”

Mingyu chuckled.

“Usually after a wish has been granted, a demon can leave until it’s time to collect the soul they were
promised, or if the human calls them again to grant another wish, but due to some unfortunate incident, I
can’t go back to the demon world until I collect your soul…”

“So that means…”

“That means I’ll be following you around and granting your wishes until your life force runs out,” he said with
a sly grin.

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?” asked Wonwoo angrily.

“Because then you might not have sealed a contract with me. Summonings are actually quite rare, you know.
If I waited for the next human to summon a demon, who knows how long that would have taken? I wanted to
get this done as soon as possible”
Wonwoo became noticeably irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his chest puffed out.

“Look kid, I granted your wish. You should be grateful. What’s your problem?”

“The problem, oh mighty one, is that you withheld information from me. Important information, might I add! I
didn’t think you would be sticking around until the day I died! Do you know how long that is?”

“Well that’s too bad. If you make another wish or two, the time will come a lot faster.”

“How about, I don’t make another wish again? Go find some other human to bother.”

Wonwoo puffed air out of his lungs quickly. Being busy arguing with the demon in front of him, he hadn’t
realized that the nurses were finished with Seungcheol by now, and that Seungcheol was watching him with
curiosity.

“Wonwoo.. are you okay?” Seungcheol asked

Wonwoo turned back to Seungcheol, and his anger dissipated immediately.

“Seungcheol,” he said softly.

“Oh don’t mind me, you seem to be deep in conversation with yourself,” Seungcheol joked.

Wonwoo chuckled. “Must be a side effect of having no one to talk to all these years.”

Seungcheol frowned at the comment, taking it more seriously than Wonwoo intended. “You were lonely
without me, weren’t you?”

The light reflected in Seungcheol’s eyes as they began to water.

Wonwoo panicked and rushed back to Seungcheol’s side.

“No, it’s okay. As long as you’re fine now... everything’s alright...”

Wonwoo pulled Seungcheol’s head to his chest, and the two of them cried silently.

2
Mingyu was annoyed. Very annoyed. Not only was he unable to return to the underworld because he had not
yet finished his task, but his bound human, Wonwoo, wouldn’t let him inside his house… even though Mingyu
had walked (followed) him all the way there. Mingyu wasn’t the type to beg, so he reluctantly abided to
Wonwoo’s command. If the human wasn’t going to let him in, then so be it.

“The damn brat doesn’t know how to appreciate the favor I did for him. Does he even understand his luck? To
be bound to me? How dare he refuse to let me in...” he muttered angrily.

He was wandering for a while, cooling down his anger, traveling to no place in particular. Without realizing it,
hours had passed, and it was now dark. From this, and finally noticing his exhaustion, Mingyu decided he
should sleep… but where? He could technically enter any house he wished, since none of its occupants would
be able to even realize he was there. However, Mingyu was a demon with manners. Why else did he comply
with Wonwoo’s refusal to let him inside?

Though, if Mingyu wanted to be let inside somehow, he would have to become visible to humans. He found a
park, where there were no humans around. He scanned his surroundings to make sure, since it would be
problematic if someone were to see what would happen next. He closed his eyes and turned his palms up to
chant a spell. He could feel the wind rustle around him as he turned his body human, and at the same time,
make it visible to the human eye. It felt strange, since he hadn’t done it for such a long time. He felt naked
without the presence of his characteristic wings by his sides. Even though he knew his powers were still there,
he felt weakened by the mere change in appearance. His body was mostly the same as before, but his red
eyes turned dark brown, his canines were shortened, his face structure softened, and his wings disappeared.
It wasn’t an appearance he was fond of, but it would have to do.

“Whoa! How did you do that?”

Mingyu’s head snapped to where he heard the voice. Had someone seen him?

But there was no one there. Mingyu looked left and right and couldn’t see a human anywhere.

“Up here!” the same voice shouted.

Mingyu looked up and spotted a waving hand. Then the human attached to that hand. It was a bright-eyed
boy sitting on a tree branch, smiling as he continued to wave his hand. The demon had not expected that a
human would be up in a tree, so he didn’t bother to check if there were any there.

The human boy descended from the tree. As he jumped off the last branch, he landed on his feet, but lost
balance and fell onto his rear. He got up and patted the dirt away, and then jogged lightly to reach Mingyu,
who was debating on whether or not he should make himself disappear again.

“Do that again!” the boy exclaimed.

Mingyu decided to just talk out if the situation. He didn’t want to bother using his powers again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just appeared out of thin air! Are you a magician?”

Mingyu’s eyebrow twitched at the question.

“Magicians are nothing but tricksters. They merely show you illusions. Don’t compare me to someone who
shows off fake powers.”

“So you’re a real magician?”

Something snapped inside Mingyu, and his rationality melted away. He wasn’t supposed to reveal himself to
humans other than the one he is bound to, but he couldn’t keep it inside.

“Look here, kid. I’m not a magician. I’m a powerful demon. I can do a lot more than appear and disappear.
Look, I can make fire come from my hands.”

He opened his palm and a bright flame burst from it. The boy didn’t look as shocked as Mingyu would have
liked. Instead, he crossed his arms and looked straight up at the demon.

“Other magicians can do that too. I bet you’re just trying to sell yourself now.”

Mingyu swore he could feel a vein pop.

“Fine then. I can make it rain too. Look at the clear night sky. You can see the stars, right? Now I’m going to
bring in clouds and make it rain.”

Soon enough, the sky did as Mingyu predicted, covering the stars with shadowy clouds, and a light drizzle fell
upon them. The boy, however, was still not convinced.

“So you can predict the weather. Cool. You’re a weatherman magician then?”

Frustrated at being called a magician, Mingyu transformed himself into his demon form again, while still
keeping his visibility. His dark eyes returned red, his canines extended, his facial features became more
defined, and his majestic wings appeared behind him. He opened them forcefully, creating a gust and
shedding some feathers, and the large wings were fully spanned out. He looked back down at the boy with an
arrogant smirk.

“Believe me now?”

He expected the boy to cower and run away, but instead, he was examining Mingyu with fascination with wide
eyes.

“I knew it! So you’re really a demon? That’s so cool! Can I touch your wings?”
He was already extending his hand to stroke them, not waiting for an answer.

Mingyu’s smirk faltered and was replaced by a small frown. He pulled away before the boy’s hand made
contact with his wing.

“You’re not afraid?”

“Why would I be? This is so cool! I’ve never met a real demon before! What’s your name? I’m Hansol!”

The boy offered a hand for Mingyu to shake. The same one that failed to touch his wing. But the demon just
looked at it and then simply crossed his arms.

“Mingyu. The great demon.”

Hansol awkwardly took back his hand and fixed the back of his hair with it, then shoved it in his pocket.

“Well then, Mingyu. What’s a great demon like you doing here?”

It was then that Mingyu remembered his circumstances. The unfortunate events of the day. He sighed, yet
again.

“I was summoned here by some ungrateful human to grant his wish, which I did, but for some reason he
won’t let me inside his house, and I have nowhere to sleep. And I at least have the decency to only go in
someone’s place only if they allow me. And since humans can’t see me, it’s not like they can let me in. So I
decided to turn my body human and ask someone to let me in. It’s not like anyone can resist my charm, so it
wouldn’t be that hard to get someone to welcome me inside. And then you just happened to see me because
you were up in a tree, and now I’m explaining myself to you and… wait a minute… You’re a human, and I’m
sure you have a house of some sort. Now that you know all about me, why don’t let me in your place for the
night?”

“Hmm? My place? Sure!”

“Or else I’ll… what? You’ll let me?”

“Yeah, I have my own apartment not too far from here. I’ll let you stay. How many people can say that a
demon slept at their house, huh?”

“O-of course you would have let me in.” Mingyu cleared his throat. “Let’s go there now. It’s late.”

“Sure, but do you think you can get it to stop raining first? And maybe dry us off?”
Mingyu looked up at the clouds and remembered it was still raining. He quickly made the clouds disappear,
allowing the stars to shine through once again. He then removed the water from his and Hansol’s clothing,
and lastly, he returned to his human form. Hansol had been staring in fascination at the entire process.
Mingyu motioned for him to lead the way to his home.

“This is just so cool! I could get used to being friends with you,” said Hansol with a bright smile. He was
almost prancing his way to his house.

“Ha, if you think that you, a mere human, can call me your friend, think again. I have hundreds of years on
you. Don’t think that you can call me your friend even once in your lifetime,” Mingyu scoffed.

“That’s okay. As long as we get to hang out sometimes. If you need a place to sleep, you can some to my
place for as long as you want. Maybe do some cool tricks in return.”

“They’re not tricks…” Mingyu muttered under his breath.

Before long, they were in front of a door. Hansol took out a key to unlock it, and opened the door wide.

“Home sweet home,” he said. He walked in, took off his shoes, and then gestured for Mingyu to enter.

Mingyu didn’t have shoes, so he just walked right in.

Hansol turned on a few lights as he walked further into the house. Mingyu followed him, glancing around to
observe his surroundings. Hansol stopped at a room. “And here is where you can sleep. Nice, huh? I actually
had a roommate not that long ago, but he moved out because he suddenly got rich. Turns out he had a super
rich grandpa that he never knew about until some lawyer came to him with his will. He inherited almost
everything because he was the only grandchild he had. So he moved to a much nicer place. But he still pays
for his share of rent in this place, which is why I can still live here, and why you can sleep here. This bedroom
used to be his.”

“That’s… good for him, I guess,” said Mingyu, not really caring. It had been a long day, and there was nothing
more he wanted than to sleep.

Hansol, noticing the lack of response from him, got the message.

“Okay, I guess I’ll let you go then. If you need anything, my bedroom is right next door,” Hansol pointed down
the hall. “Oh, and the bathroom is right across from my room.” he pivoted his arm to point at the door to the
bathroom.

Mingyu hummed in acknowledgment and dragged his feet as he walked inside. Hansol noticed his fatigue and
closed the door quietly. Once he did, Mingyu flopped himself onto the bed. It was much softer than the beds
in the demon world. He wondered what it was made of. That was the last thought he had before falling
asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mingyu woke up to muffled noises. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to ignore the noise. What was it? It
sounded like people’s voices. They were yelling. Arguing. And there were… explosions?

His eyes opened quickly and he raced out of his room to find the source of the noise, ready for battle. His
hands glowed in preparation to launch an attack when he found Hansol in a room, sitting, looking calm.

“Hansol, what are you doing? Don’t you hear the explosions? We’re being attacked!”

Hansol froze at the unexpected sight, partially panicked because of Mingyu’s glowing hands, and partially from
forgetting that he had a guest over in the first place. When he processed what was in front of him, he burst
into hysterical laughter.

Mingyu was confused. Why was he laughing when there was a danger somewhere?

“Dude, that’s just the TV, it’s just an image,” said Hansol, trying to calm himself down. He pointed to the
object in front of him. “That’s a TV. Have you not seen one before?”

The demon followed his finger to the flat, rectangular frame-like object. It was definitely where the noise was
coming from. He lowered his hand and observed. It was strange. It was similar to the looking glass in the
demon world that allowing him to see events happening in the human world. Only this was much larger, and
much louder. It was a much clearer picture. Since when did humans obtain this kind of power?

“What is happening? Where is that?”

“It takes place in China, and right now, the villain is blowing everything up. It’s almost the climax of the
movie. Do you want to watch?”

Climax of the movie? What did that mean?

Mingyu didn’t say a word, and simply went to sit with Hansol, not taking his eyes off of the TV. The humans
they were observing had incredible agility, at least compared to what he remembered. They were fighting
each other with their fists and feet, jumping and flipping along the way. One of them was particularly skilled,
and was able to knock out anyone that approached him. But then, Mingyu noticed that one of the men did not
make any contact with this particular man’s fist, but was sent flying anyways. Did humans possess some
power within themselves that he did not know of?

“How did he do that?”

“Hmm? How did who do what?”

Mingyu pointed to the man he was referring to.

“Him. How did he knock that guy out without touching him? Is there some sort of power he has? Like a force
or something?”

“What?”

Hansol looked back at the TV and watched the series of fights happening.

“Oh. OH!”

He started laughing hysterically for the second time that morning. He placed a hand on his stomach and
slapped his knee, and his face turned pink.

“I’m sorry, I forget you’re not from this world. I guess I should have mentioned that this the TV isn’t showing
real life. It’s a movie. It’s all just acting. Which gets recorded by cameras, and then the final product is shown
on TV. It’s supposed to look as realistic as possible, but sometimes they make mistakes.”

Mingyu tried to understand as best as he could. When did the human world get so complicated? So much has
changed since the last time he was here. He nodded to show that he was taking the information in.

“So.. none of it is real?”

“Nope. At least, not for this one. There are times they show real things though. It’s called the news, which
shows us what’s going on in the real world so we can be up to date on important things. But movies are
typically not real. They’re mostly for entertainment. There are some really cool ones though, that use
computer graphics to create images that aren’t there but look real. We can watch one with them if you want!”

“Computer graphics?”

“Sorry, it’s hard to explain these things. How about we watch movies, and I’ll teach you about the human
world with them?”

“Yeah, let’s do that..”

Mingyu ignored the fact that his mind was a boggled mess at the moment, and hoped that Hansol’s future
explanations would be better, or that suddenly everything would make sense.

And so, the two of them spent the entire day watching movie after movie of different genres and origins.
Mingyu slowly learned new things about the human world, appalled at how different it was compared to
before. Though Hansol’s explanations were not always clear, he got the general gist of what he told him. And
that is how Mingyu, the demon so far detached from the human world, learned so much about it in a single
day.
03
It had been a week since Mingyu started staying with Hansol. He didn’t intend to stay for longer than one
night, but Hansol managed to convince him to stay for another night. Every night. For the next seven nights.
During the day, Hansol would teach him more about the human world, including customs and current events.
During the night, Hansol would convince Mingyu to tell him about the demon world, as well as the angel world
once the demon mentioned it. Mingyu figured that the harm was already done, with him being discovered as a
demon in the first place, so there was not much to lose if Hansol knew all about where he came from.

After the week had passed, Mingyu decided it was time to check up on his bound human to see if there was
any way to get him to make more wishes. The human hadn’t called him, but that must be because he didn’t
know how to summon his presence. Either that, or he was too stubborn to.

“It’s been good getting to know you, Mingyu. I hope you come back soon and visit me. If your bound human
mate decides to kick you out, you know how to get here, right?”

“Hmph. Of course. You underestimate me.”

“I like having you around though…”

Hansol looked cheerful, but subtly disappointed. After all, his only company would be leaving, and who knows
if he would ever actually come back?

“Hey, Mingyu. Do you think, that maybe, I could possibly, by chance… request a small thing from you?”

The demon was slightly taken aback, but accepted easily.

“Well, I suppose I owe you something for all that you’ve taught me. Demon’s aren’t supposed to grant wishes
for anyone other than their bound partner, but I guess since you helped me, I’ll make an exception. I shall
grant you one small wish. Got it?”

Hansol clasped his hands together and then his eyes sparkled. At least… they appeared to be sparkling due to
how wide they became. Mingyu suddenly became wary.

“Hey, kid, don’t get too greedy… I said I would grant a small wish.”

Hansol nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard what you said. Can I ask you now?”

Mingyu puffed out air in impatience. “Yes, why do you think I’m still here?”

“Then, then… you promise won’t take back your word?”

“Go on with it already.” Mingyu’s eyes squinted slightly, wondering if it was a bad idea to accept his request.

“Can I please call you my friend?”

This was not the kind of wish Mingyu was expecting. He didn’t expect it to be a request in which he would
have to lower his pride. Why would a demon want to be friends with a human?

“W-wha?” The demon sputtered. “What do you think you’re asking of me? That’s no small request!”

“But Mingyu,” Hansol pouted. “It means you don’t have to use your powers to grant it. Doesn’t that make it a
small wish?”

He hesitated, unable to come up with an argument. He looked down and brought a hand to his chin as he
pondered. It was true that Hansol hadn’t been completely useless to have around. He could see himself
benefitting from such a relationship.

“I… guess you have a point…”

He looked at Hansol again and saw the human begging with large, watery eyes, and lips jutted out slightly. He
looked like a small, helpless animal.

“Very well. Do as you please. I will acknowledge that we are… friends… But only when we are alone, got it?”

Hansol leaped into the air and swung a fist at nothing in particular. His face brightened and his lips tugged into
a wide smile.

“Really? Yes, this is so great! Thanks, friend!”

Mingyu flinched slightly at being called a friend of a human, but he held in any rebuttal, keeping his word that
he would acknowledge their level of relationship, now defined as friendship.

Mingyu turned into his demon form again, and returned invisible to human eyes. However, he cast a spell on
Hansol so that the boy would be able to see him regardless. It was only fair, since they had leveled up their
relationship. What kind of friend would Mingyu be if he was always concealed from Hansol’s eyes, when the
boy was clearly visible to him?

“I’ll be off now… human… friend…”

Hansol smiled and waved as the demon spread his wings.

“Good luck, my demon friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mingyu flew off to find Wonwoo. He vaguely remembered where his house was, and headed in that direction.
It wasn’t difficult to find, as he remembered it was located near a large building with a cross standing tall. A
church, Mingyu now knew. He spotted it easily as he was in the air, and descended toward it. As he did, he
felt a slight pulling sensation, indicating that his bound human was nearby. He closed his eyes to pay closer
attention to the pull, and once he pinpointed the location of the bratty human, he nose dived to him.

“What the hell?” Wonwoo raised his arms to shield his face from dust flying everywhere due to a sudden,
unnaturally strong gust of wind. He was holding plastic bags full of groceries, so when he held out his arms,
the bags ended up battering him all around as they were swayed by the gust. He didn’t even have time to feel
embarrassed about how stupid he must have looked, because not even a second passed when he heard a
laughter from someone uncomfortably close to him.

He sharply turned his head at the irritating laughter and saw a face he prayed to never see again.

“You! What are you doing here?”

Mingyu’s laughter faded. “You? You should know better than to address me like that.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Oh right, I forgot. Oh great wonderful lovely Mingyu... Why the hell are you here?”

The demon crossed his arms and scoffed, looking away from the human. “Nothing.”

He said it so nonchalantly irritatingly, and he could see Wonwoo’s lip twitch. Amusing.

“Oh really? Then mind leaving me alone?”

Wonwoo brushed past the demon, pacing quickly to reach his destination, but Mingyu knew where he was
headed. With a swift flap of his wings, he made it to the door before Wonwoo even reached the gate of his
own house. Wonwoo hadn’t noticed and just entered the property. He closed the gate, then hurried to the
door, where he ran head first into Mingyu’s chest. He fell back a couple of steps and looked up before scowling
once again.

“Ugh. Why won’t you just go away?”

“Remember, it was you who decided to seal the contract with me. I’m going to be around you whether you
like it or not.”

“Oh yeah? What if I just wish you away? Can’t I do that?”

“Sure,” the demon smiled slyly. “That is, if you don’t mind giving up a few useless years of your life.”

Wonwoo hesitated, seriously considering his suggestion. But then he decided it wasn’t worth it, at least for
now. He always had the option to change his mind later.

“Fine, you can come in. It’s not like I’m going to be staying long anyways. But just because I’m letting you in,
doesn’t mean you’re welcome here, okay?”

Mingyu smirked in satisfaction and followed Wonwoo through the door. While Wonwoo went into the kitchen,
Mingyu spotted a tv in the living room and made his way to the couch.

“Hey human, I’m going to use your tv!”

“Whatever. I’m going to be in the kitchen, so just do your own thing and don’t bother me.”

The demon seated himself on the couch and turned the tv on, watching whatever was on. Even though he had
spent a week watching tv at Hansol’s place, he wasn’t tired of it. It was strangely addicting, and there were
endless things to watch. He was quickly absorbed into what was on Wonwoo’s tv and lost track of time.

Mingyu had completely forgotten where he was, being too immersed in the show he was watching, until
something caught his attention. It was a delectable mixture of smells, wafting his way. Without thinking, he
wandered to find the source of the smell and found Wonwoo, and not Hansol like he unconsciously expected,
in the kitchen. He looked at the counter and saw all kinds of food. It was a feast... but for who? It couldn’t be,
but... was it perhaps, for Mingyu?

The demon cleared his throat, surprising Wonwoo. The boy looked up from the frying pan.

“What is it?”

“Are you planning to throw a party or something? What’s with all this food?”

Wonwoo looked at the counter at all the food he made, then back to the frying pan. He appeared to have
been surprised at how much there was on the counter.

“No, I just… didn’t realize I made so much,” he said before muttering quietly to himself, “I must be crazy to
have made so much for just one person...”

It was loud enough for Mingyu to hear though, as he had a heightened sense of hearing compared to humans.

“For one person? Is it for me?”

Wonwoo stared at Mingyu blankly. He blinked a few times before his face turned bitterly sarcastic.

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious… What would possess you to think I would have made all this for you?”

Mingyu scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you? You have a great demon as a guest in your house. It’s obvious that you
should be throwing me a feast!”

“Right. Well, if it makes you happy, you can eat whatever I don’t end up taking. I’ll be leaving soon to give this
to Seungcheol. Because that’s who it was intended for. Because I actually care about him.”

Mingyu crossed his arms and squinted, the corners of his lips descending into a grimace. “Him again? Why are
you even doing this for him? I thought you said he didn’t even like you.”

“I said he doesn’t love me romantically, but he does love me, you know,” Wonwoo snapped, glaring at him.

“Tch, like he would love you with that attitude. Actually, you know what, human? You obviously don’t have a
chance with anyone, but if you want, I could tell you a way to guarantee that he will love you back. Want me
to tell you how?”

Wonwoo’s eyes softened slightly with curiosity, but hardened once again. “What makes you so sure? I doubt
you have much experience in romance anyways. You don’t seem the type that anyone would be interested in.”

There were few things Mingyu absolutely detested, and one of them was to be looked down upon. If it were
anyone else, Mingyu would have immediately attacked, but since Wonwoo was his bound human. he couldn’t
do anything of the sort. Instead, he decided that he should prove the boy wrong. He slowly walked up to the
human, with a sly grin, showing his canines. Wonwoo stepped back, but was soon backed up to the wall.
When he was close enough, Mingyu reached for the boy’s chin to pull his face up. When he did, their bodies
were only a few inches apart. Their lips less than one.

Mingyu lowered his voice and spoke in almost a whisper. “You don’t think anyone would be interested in me?
Are you sure about that?”

The demon had been greedily staring at Wonwoo’s lips, but then looked up at his eyes. He expected to see
submission, but instead saw resistance. There was no doubt that there was red in his face, but resentment
was more clearly expressed. But why? There was no one who could resist Mingyu’s charms, especially when
he was actually trying to seduce them. This human must have awful taste. Displeased, the demon backed off.
He regretted wasting his time doing it.

“Anyways, do you want me to tell you, or not? A way to make that Suchen fall for you.”

“Suchen?” Wonwoo looked confused as he walked back to the frying pan, poking the food that seems to have
burnt a bit. He then realized who the demon meant. “Seungcheol,” he corrected him sternly.

“Yeah, him. So? Shall I tell you?”

“Yeah, fine. But I won’t take your advice just because you’re giving it to me.”

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything about advice, now did I?”

Mingyu continued speaking while Wonwoo flashed him puzzled glances.

“You don’t seem to understand the extent of my powers. I said you can wish for anything, right? Besides life
and death, that is. I already told you I was a high class demon, but what I didn’t tell you was that my powers
comes second only to the demon lord. In other words, I’m powerful, more so than you think. And I have the
ability to make Seokchan fall for you if you wish it. It means you will be trading more years of your life, but
the love of your life will love you back, so it would all be worth it. So, what do you say, human?”

He flashed a devilish grin, until Wonwoo gave him his response. He made up his mind much too quickly.

“No. And it’s Seungcheol.”

Wonwoo was finished cooking, and started organizing all the food into a four-tiered lunchbox. Mingyu just
observed while he did this, not quite sure he heard correctly.

“No? Did you say no?”

The boy was now wrapping the lunchbox with a large handkerchief, not bothering to even glimpse at Mingyu.

“I did.”

“But isn’t that what you want? For him to love you back? I could easily make it happen!”

Wonwoo paused what he was doing, and then turned to look at the demon.

“I would be lying if I told you I didn’t want that, but I don’t want him to love me out of artificial feelings. I
would rather he never love me for the rest of my life than to love me even once by the work of some
mysterious demonic force.”
He finished what he was doing, then took the lunchbox and carried it with him as he walked past Mingyu and
to the door. He put on his shoes and opened the door to leave, but turned back for a quick moment.

“And don’t follow me.”

He then shut the door somewhat harshly. Mingyu could hear his footsteps, and waited for them to disappear.
Once they did, he left the house as well.

“Like I need to follow you to know where you are going.”

The demon spread his large, dark wings, and took flight. He headed straight for the hospital where he was
summoned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By traveling through the air, Mingyu made it to the hospital much more quickly than Wonwoo did. He went
straight to the room with Seungcheol or whoever. When he arrived, he saw that the patient was on the bed,
sitting up, reading a book. Mingyu watched him carefully.

The boy had black hair, but with wasn’t as strikingly dark as his own. He had pale skin, sickly looking
compared to Mingyu’s beautifully tanned skin. His eyelashes were long. What was he, a llama?

Mingyu shook his head in disappointment. What did Wonwoo see in him? A better question was, what did this
guy have that Mingyu didn’t? Mingyu was obviously the superior one here. He didn’t understand the way
humans thought. It just didn’t make sense.

He walked closer and closer to the patient, who continued reading as if nothing happened. Mingyu watched
him flip a page with trembling fingers. Weak. He circled the bed, not once taking his eyes off of Seungcheol,
as if doing this would allow him to discover what he had that Mingyu didn’t. Unsurprisingly, he found nothing.

Another page flip. Mingyu found himself getting quickly bored.

Just then, the door started to open. In a flash, Mingyu hid behind the curtain when he recognized the figure
by the doorway to be Wonwoo. Seungcheol might not be able to see him, but Wonwoo could, and Mingyu was
not about to let him know he was here. It’s not like Mingyu followed him, but he knew Wonwoo would not like
it if he knew the demon was here. It was in his best interest not to make the human too angry with him.

Mingyu made himself invisible to Wonwoo’s eyes, then stepped away from the curtain. He wasn’t that curious,
but he wanted to know how the two boys interacted.

“Hey Seungcheol”

The patient put down his book and looked up.

“Wonwoo!” He smiled cheerfully. “What are you doing back already? It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you
were last here!”

Wonwoo flashed him a bashful smile, and Mingyu almost slapped himself because he thought he was
hallucinating.

Seungcheol must have noticed the bundle that Wonwoo was carrying. He pointed at it.

“Don’t tell me… is that food?”

“It’s never too early to get tired of hospital food.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened with expectancy.

“Please tell me you brought me tonkatsu.”

“You didn’t think I would forget your favorite food, did you?”

Seungcheol hugged Wonwoo, which startled Mingyu a bit.

“YES! You’re officially amazing. Marry me now.”

He didn’t notice the slight flush on Wonwoo’s face, and proceeded to grab the bundle of food to unwrap it on
his bed. He took off the lid, revealing beautifully golden, crispy slices of pork cutlet on a bed of neatly packed
white rice. To the side was a small salad made of shredded cabbage, topped with a halved cherry tomato.

“This is so beautiful, I think I’m going to cry.”

Wonwoo chuckled gently. “Don’t eat too quickly, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

He grabbed the chopsticks, and with a shaky hand, pick up a piece of pork. He slowly brought up, but it
dropped back into the lunchbox.

“It looks like I’m still a bit weak, huh,” Seungcheol chuckled bitterly. Mingyu scoffed quietly, rolling his eyes.

Wonwoo frowned and took the chopsticks from the patient.

“Recovering might take a while. I’ll feed you for now, okay?”

He picked up the meat that Seungcheol dropped and brought it to the boy’s lips. Seungcheol took the food
into his mouth, and his eyes brightened with every bite. When he swallowed, he had an expression of pure
bliss.

“Oh man, I sure missed this. Your tonkatsu is seriously the best.”

Wonwoo picked up another piece of meat. “Eat up,” he said lovingly.

As Wonwoo fed Seungcheol, Mingyu watched in disbelief. Just who was this guy and what had he done with
Wonwoo? This certainly wasn’t the same Wonwoo he knew. Even if he liked the guy, there had to be a limit to
how much he can change for him. How could he go from a stubborn brat, to a loving housewife like that?

And then there was that Seungcheol guy. He obviously didn’t know how Wonwoo felt about him. Why was he
so stupid? And why wouldn’t Wonwoo just wish that he loved him back? Mingyu could grant it easily.

Why were humans so complicated?

04
After an unnecessarily long time, Wonwoo finally left the hospital. He said his goodbyes Seungcheol, letting
him rest, and promised he would be there the next day with more food. Mingyu watched as the boy held his
gaze at the door as Wonwoo left, looking pleased after having had a decent meal and conversation with his
friend. But his face was soon washed over with an expression of sorrow.

“I’m happy you care about me, but why didn’t you meet someone else? Why didn’t you find someone when I
wasn’t there for you? What would have happened if I never woke up? Would you have stayed by my side
forever?”

What did he mean? Why would Wonwoo stay with him forever if he hadn’t woken up? They weren’t dating, at
least according to Wonwoo. No, Seungcheol wasn’t even supposed to have romantic feelings towards him.
Was it possible that he knew of Wonwoo’s feelings? But… that seemed wrong. There must be something
missing. Something that Mingyu didn’t know about Wonwoo. Something important.

Mingyu found no reason to stay, so he left to find Wonwoo. When he found him walking on the streets, he
flew down to him, but gently this time. He was still invisible to his eyes, for cautionary reasons. Mingyu walked
by Wonwoo’s side, silently watching.

Wonwoo didn’t look as happy as Mingyu would have expected, especially since he had just met with his love.
After a long moment of silence, the boy suddenly laughed a bit, which the demon thought was strange
because nothing happened. Then, he started talking to himself.

“Marry me now, haha.” He sighed. “You’re not allowed to joke like that, Cheol...”

The human’s face turned sullen. “But at least I can have you by my side again, right? Maybe it was a good
thing to have summoned that demon after all.”

A small smile formed on Mingyu’s lips, and he was slightly proud of himself. Until Wonwoo sighed again.

“But you have no idea what I went through because of him. Who knew that demons were so pushy? And
rude, and arrogant. Maybe he’s a special case? He is the great Mingyu after all.”

And with that, Mingyu appeared before Wonwoo, clearly irritated.

“And here I thought you were actually showing gratitude for once. How unsurprising to find out you weren’t.”

Wonwoo scowled, no longer surprised at the demon’s spontaneous emergences. “Are you never going to leave
me alone?”

“I have more reason to be with you than away from you.”

The boy huffed, slightly turning his head away from the demon. “What are you trying to do, flirt with me?”
The demon was suddenly flustered. “What? Why would I be trying to flirt with a puny human like you?”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “Might I remind you of your sad attempt to seduce me in my kitchen?”

Mingyu scoffed. “You’re a powerless human, not to mention stubborn. You’re just a brat. Not at all my type.
Not even in your wildest dreams. Not to mention that you’re incompetent in romance. You can’t even flirt with
Seonchun right! He doesn’t even have a clue about your feelings! And do you even know about his feelings?
You’re both stupid!”

Wonwoo paused. “What do you mean by that?”

“What, do I have to spell it out for you? I’m not flirting with you. I’ll repeat it for you in case you didn’t get it a
second time. I am not flirting with you. Someone like you will never be able to turn me on.”

“No, no, not about that. I don’t care about that.”

Mingyu felt a stab in his chest from his pride being hurt. Wonwoo didn’t seem to notice and continued.

“About Seungcheol. What do you mean I don’t know about his feelings? Did you say something to him? Do
you know something about him that I don’t?”

“After that entire explanation you choose only to listen to the parts that have your Sancheong in it, huh?
Figures.”

“Mingyu,” he said with a warning tone.

The demon glared at Wonwoo, only to find him glaring right back. The human sure had an almighty attitude.

“As you wish,” he said sarcastically. “You don’t know if he has feelings for anyone, right? I can find out. End of
story.”

“End of story? You’re awful at this. What makes you think you can find out? Is it another one of your demon
powers? My god, do you have any communication skills?”

“What? Well if you don’t like the way I speak, then I’ll just leave-”

“No, wait!”

Mingyu was pleased when Wonwoo suddenly clung onto his arm, like how he did at the hospital on the day he
summoned the demon. It always felt good to be in control of the conversation, after all. Though Wonwoo’s
expression was slightly different, the boy had a similar look of desperation. However, he quickly let go when
he realized what he had just done.
“I mean… wait... “

The boy looked away, but Mingyu could still see the pink on his cheeks. The demon felt that he regained some
of the pride he lost. It wasn’t how he intended, but the human was finally showing some submission before
him.

“Yes, human?”

“Actually… never mind. I don’t think I want to know..”

Mingyu was confused all over again. Just what was going on in this brat’s mind?

“And why is that?”

“Because it might mean that I have to prepare to have my heart broken. If he has feelings for someone else,
I… I just don’t want to know.”

Though it was still hard to understand, the demon accepted Wonwoo’s will. He couldn’t go against him
anyways.

“Suit yourself. Don’t regret your words later, brat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mingyu~”

Hansol called the demon’s name while shaking his hand in front of his face, but there was no response.

“Mingyu, hello? Anyone there? Mingyu~”

“Huh?”

Mingyu snapped out of his blank state of mind and saw his human friend and inch from his face. He had been
thinking about Wonwoo, and why he wouldn’t want to know about Seungcheol’s feelings. Even if there was a
chance that he returned his feelings, Wonwoo simply did not want to know. Was it because the fear of being
rejected greatly outweighed the possible joy he would get from a requited love? Mingyu had the same
confusion he felt when Wonwoo would allow for Mingyu to forcibly make Seungcheol love him. Why was he
not letting himself be happy? There was obviously a way to guarantee results, with Mingyu around. Was it
because he was human, or because he was special?

“Finally. Do you know how long I’ve been calling you for? What’s got you thinking so hard? Did something
happen? Is there something you don’t understand about the human world that I didn’t mention?”

Hansol backed off and sat back down on his seat. The two were in his apartment, just hanging out. Doing
what friends do, according to Hansol. The demon came to him shortly after his slight disagreement with
Wonwoo. While the boy welcomed him eagerly. he didn’t realize the demon would be back so soon Then
again, he wasn’t sure if he would be back at all. He was more than happy when he saw the demon at his door,
but wondered if there was something he should be worried about. It seemed unlikely that he would return for
no reason. And he was right. Mingyu came to try to figure out how humans work. To him, it seemed they
lacked rationality. What was it they had instead?

“What is up with you humans and your relationships? Is there some complicated system I don’t know about?”

“Relationships? What do you mean? As in romantic relationships? And dating?”

Mingyu nodded, with his head cocked slightly to the side.

“Uh,,” Hansol looked around, trying to find the words to say. He looked at Mingyu, who was looking back with
confused and curious eyes. He felt bad when he realized he couldn’t give Mingyu the response he was hoping
for.

“Sorry but, I don’t have an answer to that. Actually, no one really does. Relationships are pretty complicated,
and there’s no straight answer to any of it. It’s not a system. No one ever knows what’s going on, even when
they think they’ve found their soulmates. Anything can happen. Relationships are like a chaotic mess, really.
But why do you want to know about humans and their love lives? Don’t tell me you’re in love with a human?”

Mingyu stood up quickly, with an expression of shock and disgust.

“What? ME? Why would I be in love with some bratty human? What kind of nonsense are you trying to say?
There’s NO WAY I would be in love with him. He just has love issues that I wanted to figure out because I
can’t finish my job until he has it figured out! How dare you assume such a thing?”

Hansol defensively held out his hands.

“Hey, hey, no need to deny it so strongly. I was just asking. Though, if you were human, you know,
hypothetically, it would seem to me like you did like the guy. Not saying you do, but.. I mean, I didn’t say
anyone’s name, but… you thought of someone, didn’t you?”

He asked the last question cautiously, lowering his head slightly and looking up with his brows raised slightly.
When Mingyu didn’t get angry, he relaxed, but then noticed the demon going back to a state of blankness.

Hansol was right. Mingyu did think of someone. But that was irrelevant, since Wonwoo was the only human he
knew other than Hansol and that pathetic hospital patient.

“Yo, Mingyu, are you still here?”

“Hmm? Yeah… Of course, I’m not in love with him. He’s just a measly human who doesn’t even realize how
good I am because he’s so blinded by his own love. Even though I’m clearly far superior to him in every way.
Believe me, I’ve seen him.”

Hansol paused for a moment, a bit perplexed. His eyes were slightly widened, and his mouth open. His
eyebrows scrunched a bit when he started thinking.

“Whoa…”

“What?”

The boy had a hand on his chin, still thinking.

“No, it’s just… if you were a human, it totally sounds like you would be jealous right now.”
Mingyu swatted his hand to dismiss the comment.

“Nonsense. I’m just appalled at how low of standards he has. I told you, there’s no way I like him. I wouldn’t
have feelings for someone so… weak.”

“You can never tell when it comes to feelings.”

“For humans maybe, but remember, I’m not like you.”

“Okay, sure, you have a point.”

“But there’s something I want to know.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer, but shoot.”

“Shoot?”

“Sorry, it means ask away.”

“Oh. Well, say you loved someone. Then one day they go… away. And you don’t get to speak to them for
three years, it’s possible to still love them all that time, right?”

“Yeah, it’s possible.”

“What are the chances that you would give up on them after they suddenly come back into your life?”

“Hmm. That’s a pretty hard question to answer, since it really depends on the person. Love for humans differs
on a case to case basis. But from what I know, I would say it’s pretty unlikely. Especially if they loved them for
all those years. I guess, unless they find someone else, or the person they love is in love with someone else.
But it’s possible that they would still love them even then. Like I said, everyone’s different, but I’m going to go
ahead and say it’s more unlikely than likely.”

“Hmm… is that so…”

“Are you sure you’re not in love with this human?”

“Shut it, Hansol.”

“Whoops.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mingyu decided that he wouldn’t be able to figure out Wonwoo and his complicated feelings until he knew
more about him. The only problem was, that it was unlikely that the human would share an inkling of
information about himself if the demon were to ask. There seemed to be one way to go about this. Mingyu
really didn’t want it to be this way, but he couldn’t think of any other way. To get to Wonwoo, he had to go
through Seungcheol.

With Hansol’s help, Mingyu was able to appear as an innocent human. The point was that he wanted to bring
Seungcheol’s guard down to make him spill information more easily. And to do that, Hansol gave Mingyu a
makeover, because even in his human form, Mingyu was quite the looker. He looked too confident to be
innocent, and that’s where Hansol the stylist came in.
He was dressed with a wide-neck sweater a size too large, with the sleeves reaching past his palms. His hair
was combed down and slightly disheveled, and his bangs fell just below his brows. Thick-rimmed glasses
rested on the bridge of his nose, and Mingyu had to adjust it every so often because it kept slipping. He wore
jeans that hugged his legs, and a plaid button-up was tied around his waist. It was perfect, according to
Hansol. His goal of creating Cute Mingyu was accomplished. It was time for the demon head to where
Seungcheol was.

Mingyu was standing in front of the door, taking a breath to calm himself down. He needed to control himself
for this to work. He knocked on the door twice and then entered, not waiting for a response before doing so.
When he did, he saw Seungcheol sitting upright on the bed, eyeing him with curiosity.

“Uh… I think you have the wrong room?”

Mingyu looked straight back at the boy, who was now looking at him with his large eyes. Those eyes ticked
the demon off, but he put an effort to give off an innocent air.

“No, I know where I am. I came for you Seungcheol.” He smiled, even though he was grimacing on the inside.

Those wide eyes turned even wider, and Mingyu was really putting an effort to stay calm.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?

“I’m a… friend of Wonwoo’s.” It pained him to use ‘Wonwoo’ and ‘friend’ in the same sentence, but he
swallowed his pride in order to obtain the information he wanted.

“You’re… a friend of Wonwoo’s?”

Seungcheol was wearing an expression of shock. An expression Mingyu didn’t expect. He had just started
speaking to the boy, and it looked like his plans were already in danger. It sent a slight wave of panic to the
demon, but he was able to keep his face consistently innocent.

But then Seungcheol relaxed, showing a bittersweet smile.

“Really? That’s great,” he said weakly. “That’s great,” he repeated after a sigh of relief, looking at nothing in
particular.

The boy looked once again at Mingyu. “But, what brings you here?”

The demon cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you about Wonwoo. You see, he… speaks fondly of you. But
the bra- I mean- boy isn’t friendly to anyone at all. I had a feeling you would know the reason.”

“Oh,” sighed Seungcheol. “Then, that means… let me guess. You want to be friends with him, but he doesn’t
want to be friends with you?”

“It’s… something like that,” he said in more of a questioning tone. He didn’t want to answer incorrectly in case
he was being tested.

The boy sighed again. “I knew it.”

By now, the demon thought it would be safe to ask. The boy seemed to trust him enough, and the
conversation wasn’t going anywhere, so he had to be a bit more direct.
“Tell me, why is he like this?”

Seungcheol started playing with his blanket, not looking at Mingyu. He looked pained, but it was more likely
mental than physical. He looked out the window at the sky, then down below where there were people. He ran
his hand through his hair and chewed his lip, taking a quick peek at the demon beside him. Mingyu waited
patiently.

“It has to do with how he grew up,” he said finally. “He probably wouldn't want me to tell you… are you sure
you want to know?”

“Try me.”

Seungcheol took a breath.

“Okay, well it started when he was in elementary school.”

05
“Wonwoo was just a normal kid. I mean, why wouldn’t he have been? He was pretty introverted, but he still
had friends. There was a particular boy he was best friends with. His only best friend, actually. I forget his
name, but all you need to know is that he was Wonwoo’s best friend. They hung out so much that even their
parents were close. They would have sleepovers, since at that age, sleepovers weren’t exclusively a ‘girl thing’.
On some weekends, Wonwoo would sleep at his place, and on others, the boy slept at Wonwoo’s. It was
probably weird if they weren’t together… But then something happened and it changed his life forever… It was
Wonwoo’s birthday, and his friend was invited to spend the night. Nothing unusual, right? His parents went
out to pick him up along with the cake they ordered. They were on their way back and…”

Seungcheol paused. His voice shook a little and his eyes became watery.

“They got hit with a speeding truck. A semi-truck. The fucking bastard driving it was under the influence. Who
the hell drives a fucking semi while drunk? And you know what’s unfair about it? He lived. The truck driver
lived and three innocent people died because of him. The world is unfair, but poor Wonwoo had to find out the
hard way while he was in elementary school. Can you imagine? A kid excitedly waiting on his birthday for his
parents and best friend, but they never come. Instead, having strange people telling him that he won’t ever
see them again. His friend’s parents were devastated, but they didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault, after all.
They were all just at the wrong place at the wrong time… but Wonwoo felt guilty all the same, and couldn’t
face them again.”

He wiped a stray tear and sniffled, but he wasn’t finished talking.

“You could probably imagine how messed up he got after that. Since he was still a kid, child services put him
under the care of his aunt, who lived a bit farther away. He was transferred to a new school, but this time, he
didn’t make friends. He didn’t even try. If someone tried to talk to him, he would ignore them completely.
Some of the students thought he was mute. Sometimes he would speak, but he was never friendly. You know
why? Because at that young of an age, he blamed himself for the death of his parents and his friends. He
didn’t want any more people to die because of him. You know as well as I do that it wasn’t his fault, but he
convinced himself that it was. So he went to school every day without interacting with anyone. Wonwoo was
all alone in the world, and the only family he had didn’t seem to love him.”
There were steady streams of tears running down Seungcheol’s face, but he no longer attempted to wipe
them away.

“No, she didn’t love him. She didn’t even have an ounce of feelings for him. On the day he graduated
elementary school, she didn’t show up at his school. I don’t think he expected her to, since she never went to
parent conferences. But when he went home that day, she wasn’t there either. Nothing was there. She just up
and left, taking everything with her, not even leaving a note. She thought he was unnecessary baggage and
just abandoned him, when he was still a child. And he was family. What a sick woman. Wonwoo already went
through so much, and then… And he didn’t even blame her in the end. He blamed himself for not being more
useful to her. But he was still a kid. How was he supposed to know what to do next? So he didn’t do anything.
He just sat in his yard for days until someone found him. I don’t know if he was waiting for her to come back
or what, but he was just there. It was me who found him, actually. It turned out we were neighbors, but I
never really noticed him until I saw him every day in front of his house. I thought it was strange that he was
there when the house had a sign that said it was for sale. I couldn’t convince him to come with me to my
house, so I went home to tell my parents about him. They went to his house and talked to him. I wasn’t there,
but I guess they got him to tell them what happened and why he was just sitting there for so long. I wonder
how they got him to tell them. Maybe because he thought he could trust parents? I don’t really know. But
anyways, they were able to sort things out with officials and his aunt, and then took him in as their own. They
let Wonwoo decide if he wanted to keep his surname, or change it to match all of ours. He decided to keep his
original surname since it was a way for him to still be connected to his parents, which is understandable. But
anyways, that’s how Wonwoo and I became step-brothers, despite us having different surnames.”

“You and Wonwoo are… step-brothers?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Mingyu shook his head.

“Figures. He never really mentions it. I love him as a brother, but I wonder if he even sees me as family. He
refers to our parents as his parents, but for some reason he never really refers to me as his brother. He was
really cold and distant at first when he moved in with us. He seemed uncomfortable, but eventually he opened
up to all of us. I was probably the last one he opened up to. It took about two years? It was a long time of me
trying to get to know him and him trying to ignore me. But now we’re really close. But somehow he still
thought of himself as a burden, when all of us would disagree. He seemed really bothered to be taking
advantage of our kindness, when really, we all love him. We wanted him there… But our words weren’t
enough… He moved out after graduating high school.”

“He moved out on his own?”

“Yeah. I mean, it might seem impossible normally, but he did have the funds. There was the money his
parents saved up that went to him when they passed.. And he also got money from selling his house. Not
where he lived with his aunt, but his first house. His aunt took some of the revenue, since it was her idea and
all, but he still got something out of it. I’m surprised she even gave him anything, but I guess she felt guilty
for making money from selling something that wasn’t hers. But he still needed some extra money. He had
some part-time jobs while he was in middle school and high school, and we thought it was so that he would
have spending money, or to save up for college... But when we found out he was saving up to move out… to
be honest it hurt a bit. It meant that he was planning to move out from the beginning. But I mean, if moving
out gave him a peace of mind, we were willing to let him go. I guess we never completely broke down the
walls he built around himself.”
“So then, he got close to you and your family… and no one else?”

“Nope, no one. As far as I know, at least. I guess we just weren’t able to heal his scars completely. I wonder if
they will ever heal... I mean, the only reason he’s close to me now is because I lived with him for so long. He’s
probably still traumatized by his past. And then…”

Seungcheol looked at the palms of his hands before using them to cover his face.

“And then I just had to screw up and get into an accident. I can’t even imagine what he had to go through
because of me.. He might even blame himself for what happened to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks
this happened because he got close to me. He probably stopped visiting our parents too, because of his guilt.
And since I’ve been out for so long, he must have been so lonely...”

Mingyu knew this was the end of the story, and he no longer had a reason to stay. He walked to the door and
pulled it open before turning back to see Seungcheol still looking distressed.

“Thanks for telling me all that, but if you could do me a favor, don’t tell Wonwoo about this.”

The boy finally put his hands down and made eye contact with Mingyu.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh? Oh, but, if you want to become friends with Wonwoo, I can try to
help you out. He might warm up to you if I’m around. I mean, I don’t want to sound arrogant about it, but I
really am his only friend. As much as I wish that weren’t true... “

He made the suggestion lightly, but sincerely. The boy really did care for Wonwoo.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Are you sure? I’m actually getting out of here pretty soon, so we can all-.”

“I’m sure.”

“O-okay… sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for,” the demon muttered silently. He faced forward again and was about to make a
stride when the boy stopped him.

“Wait! I... never got your name?”

The demon didn’t look back at him.

“I’m aware.”

He walked out and closed the door behind him, and Seungcheol was left wondering who he was and how he
had met Wonwoo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Mingyu left the busy streets, he turned back into his demon form to fly somewhere. Anywhere. He
created powerful gusts as he propelled himself into the sky. He felt the cool breeze ruffle his hair and feathers
as he glided in the air. The air was much cleaner up high. He closed his eyes took a deep breath, savoring the
cleanliness. It was so peaceful in the sky, where no humans could bother him. He flew in no particular
direction, turning when he felt like it. Again, he took a deep breath. Now that his body felt clear, it was time to
clear his mind.

With Seungcheol’s story, Mingyu realized why Wonwoo acted the way he did. Why he refused to confess, and
why he was so unfriendly to Mingyu. Why he felt so cold when he was away from Seungcheol.

It made sense as to why he was obsessed Seungcheol too. It wasn’t like he had a chance to like anyone else.
Though, if he had met other people, would he have feelings for someone else? Or did he like Seungcheol
because he pulled him out of misery?

When exactly was it that Wonwoo started loving Seungcheol?

Mingyu was hovering around a skyscraper when he felt a familiar tug that pointed him in the direction of his
bound human. He paused his direction of flight to get closer to the building and peered into the window. It
was a large room full of workers sitting in desks. All of the workers were men, looking grouchy or stressed,
hunched over their desks either writing on papers or typing away on their computers. It was a dreary looking
place. Was this where his bound human worked?

He entered the building through the glass and scanned the room. He found a particular fluff of black hair that
he immediately recognized it to be his bound human’s. The human’s back was faced toward him. Mingyu could
see that his shoulders were slightly tense. The demon proceeded to walk towards the human. He kept himself
invisible, since he was not in the mood to be seen.

He didn’t know what mood he was in, really. He wasn’t happy for sure, but he wasn’t sad or angry. It was a
feeling he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before. The story Seungcheol told him was affecting him in a
way he didn’t like, and seeing Wonwoo in front of him made it worse. Regardless, he stepped closer and closer
to him with a small scowl on his face.

Wonwoo was typing something on his computer, looking very focused. Even if the demon was visible, he
probably wouldn’t have noticed him. Mingyu sat on top of the desk carefully as to not move anything. He sat
facing the boy, and watched every subtle movement he made. He watched his eyes moved when he read the
text on the screen, he watched as he scrunched his lips in frustration every so often, he watched when he
closed his eyes for a moment to recover from lack of blinking, and then open them wide as if he were trying to
fight off drowsiness. Right now, he seemed like any other human, but who knew he had such a harsh past?
How did he have the will to move forward in life, even if he didn’t have the will to move on from the past?
Mingyu snapped out of it. Was he… pitying a human? Was he feeling upset because of him? Because of a
mere human? There was no way he should feel anything for any human but… was Wonwoo special? Of
course, he was special in that he was bound to the demon but… there was something else. Something more.

Mingyu felt his heartbeat start to increase in pace from his realization. He was unable to comprehend
anything. What was this feeling? Why did he feel so complicated? Why was he feeling so… human?

He had to get out of there. He quickly got up and ran to the window he came in from, not caring that he
created a slight breeze that rustled the papers on Wonwoo’s desk. He didn’t stop when he heard Wonwoo
mumble a confused “Mingyu?” from under his breath. If he looked back, he didn’t know what would happen.

Something strange was happening to Mingyu, and he didn’t want to stop to find out what it was.

06
Mingyu was in front of Hansol’s door yet again. This was becoming somewhat of a routine thing now, but it
seemed that there was something about Hansol that put him at ease. Now that Mingyu was in a bit of an
emotional turmoil, he instinctively went to find his home. It wasn’t a conscious effort. His wings just took him
there when his head was too jumbled up to figure out where he was going.

The demon sighed. He wondered if he was getting a little too dependent on the boy. He probably was. It was
no matter, since the human would graciously accept his company anyways. Hansol was always happy to see
Mingyu. At least he didn’t take the demon for granted, unlike some other bratty human.

He sighed again. Wonderful. He was thinking about Wonwoo yet again. Just when he thought his mind was
free of him. Figures. The mind never really works the way one wants it to..

Mingyu had to take his mind off of that brat, because his insides were about to melt. Just thinking about him
was wreaking havoc on the demon to the point that he was becoming physically exhausted. His heart hadn’t
slowed down since before, and while he did just fly a flew miles, something about his heartbeat was different.
It was like his soul was being shaken and his entire chest was being worn down. This wasn’t a good sign.

“Human, are you there? Open up,” said the demon while knocking on the door harsher than necessary.

Mingyu heard the light pounding of footsteps and it was clear that Hansol sprinted to the door. It was even
more apparent when he opened the door with a barely noticeable pant coming from his large, bright smile.

“Mingyu! You’re back!”

The demon stepped inside and Hansol closed and locked the door behind him. Mingyu walked to the couch as
if he owned the place, and the boy followed closely behind with a slight bounce in his steps. He stopped for a
moment and watched the demon’s back, noticing his shoulders were not as proud as they normally were. The
demons steps were slow, and his feet were almost dragging. His wings were folded up loosely, and the tips
trailed along the floor.

“Is something wrong? You seem a little down,” the boy commented.

Without answering, he sat down on the couch, slowly descending into the cushion. His eyes weren’t fixated on
anything, but they were staring intently at nothing. He was thinking deeply. It seemed he did that often ever
since arriving in the human world.

Hansol was used to the fact that the demon disconnected from the rest of the world when he had his thinking
sessions. What he wasn’t used to, was the extreme state of distress that showed on his face. He knew
something was troubling Mingyu. Very much indeed. But when Mingyu was so detached from reality, there
was no way Hansol would ever find out what it was.

Hansol walked to his kitchen, opened some drawers, then the fridge, closed everything, then came back.
Mingyu had not moved an inch from where he was. Hansol sat on the couch beside him and opened the small
container he obtained from the kitchen, scooped out some of its contents with a spoon, then hovered the
spoon by Mingyu’s mouth. He slowly poked his lips with the spoon and the demon returned to reality.

“Say ah~”

The demon opened his mouth and the boy fed him what was on his spoon. It was a sweet, cold, creamy
substance. At first, Mingyu was surprised at the temperature, but then savored its sweet creaminess.

“It’s ice cream. I like to eat it when I’m upset. It helps me cope with my feelings.”

Mingyu swallowed the spoonful before speaking.

“I’m not upset,” he said bitterly.

Hansol pointed at the demon’s face.

“Yes you are, you’re clearly upset. I don’t know why, but something’s bothering you. If you don’t want to spill
what it is, just eat the dessert.”

Mingyu frowned, but then took the spoon from Hansol and dipped it in the container.

“This doesn’t mean I’m upset,” he said as he brought more ice cream to his mouth.

“Just accept it. You don’t have to tell me anything, but accept your feelings.”
The two continued eating the dessert until the container was empty. Hansol was right. Maybe it was because
of the temperature, but it helped cool down his head. He no longer felt so disordered, but that didn’t mean he
understood anything. His mind was just calmer. He no longer felt like a storm was running through it.

“Uh, thanks… I guess.”

Hansol chuckled. “Interestingly, I never thought I would hear you say thanks. I guess we’ve gotten closer, my
friend.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I’ll try not to,” he joked.

Mingyu unconsciously dipped his spoon into the empty container and frowned when he remembered that it
was all gone.

Hansol laughed, thinking that the demon seemed really cute right now. “Don’t worry, I have another tub. I’m
glad you like it. But you know what’s even better than ice cream? Ice cream cake! I’ll buy some next time. Oh,
hey, when’s your birthday? Maybe we can celebrate with ice cream cake!”

“Birthday? I have no such thing. Humans make too big of a deal out of it.”

“Human, demon, whatever. You’ve got to have a birthday! You should celebrate it while you’re here in the
human world. Celebrate human traditions, you know. Maybe you’ll like it.”

“And maybe I won’t.”

“Come on, Mingyu, I promise you’ll have fun.”

“...”

“Mingyu, it’s what friends do~” Hansol said cutely.

“Do what you want.”

“Whoo! No taking back your words!”

“...what have I gotten myself into?”

Hansol laughed heartily. He was glad Mingyu had his energy back, but he was still worried. After all, it was
probably very unusual for a demon like Mingyu to be so down. He looked over at the demon, who was fixing
his hair.
“Hey, Mingyu?”

The demon paused his preening session to glance over at the boy.

“What is it?”

“You don’t really have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it’s never good to bottle all your feelings inside, so…
if you want, and you don’t have to… but if you want… could you tell me what’s been bothering you?”

Mingyu was a great demon. He didn’t like having weaknesses, but Hansol could see right through him. He felt
hesitant to expose his weakness though. If he were to admit them, it would mean the boy would have
something on him, even though Mingyu knew he would never use it against him. Still, he felt insecure.

“Why don’t you tell me your troubles first? Then I’ll tell you mine,” he offered. It was a trade-off. It seemed
fair enough.

Hansol was a bit taken aback by the suggestion, but he agreed willingly. It seemed there wasn’t anything at
the top of his mind, so he had to think for a bit. When he figured out what to say, he cleared his throat to
begin.

“Well, okay, I guess there’s been something that I’ve had to deal with for a long time. That should be okay,
right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well, it might be a bit of a rant since it’s been happening since I was a kid. All because I look different from
everyone else,”

“Different? How so?”

“What?” Hansol blinked a few times. “What do you mean? I’m obviously not fully Korean. Don’t tell me you
didn’t notice?”

The demon started inspecting him closely. He circled him once, looking from his feet to the top of his head. He
knit his eyebrows slightly as he cocked his head to the side, and then looked closely at his face.

“Hmm, you’re right. Your eyes and hair are a lighter color…”

The boy laughed. “I guess we humans all look the same to you, huh?”

Mingyu was slightly offended by this comment.

“What do you mean? I can tell you apart!”

And so Hansol explained how humans were the same, but different groups of people shared different
characteristics, and that the term ‘race’ was coined for these groups. He also explained how race had become
an issue for a lot of people and how they were treated. Hansol was a mixed race, so while he felt like he
belonged in this country, other people thought differently because of his appearance.

“So what… you look a little different and so people don’t like you?”

“That’s a pretty blunt way of explaining it, but yeah.”

“And this is what troubles you?”

Hansol shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah. Ever since I was a kid, I was always treated differently, and I never really knew why until I grew up. I
thought I was just like everyone else. I didn’t know why people called me different, because I didn’t really see
race when I was a kid. I tried to be nice, but I guess my appearance got the better of people’s judgement and
I ended up having no friends. All my classmates avoided me like the plague, and that led to me being bullied a
little, I guess. Nothing too serious though. I survived.”

He chuckled at his own joke, but Mingyu didn’t laugh along. Instead he stared at him like he was a puzzle.

“You were bullied.”

“Yeah,” Hansol answered with a smile to reassure the demon that he was fine now.

“You were alone.”

“Yeah,” his smile was still there, but faded slightly.

“But you seem to be cheerful.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Sometime, you have to suffer before you find happiness, you know? I live a pretty good life now, and I find
more reason to be happy than not. I have a place to live, I have family who all love me, and now I have a true
friend. Not one who only hangs out with me because they think I look cool, or because they’ve always wanted
to be friends with a foreigner, or because they want something from me. A friend who is okay with me being
me. My life is finally starting to go somewhere.”
“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you’re the first one to ever talk to me without prejudice. Well, technically you judged me for being
human and all, but you treat all humans the same, so that doesn’t count. But anyways, my life can only get
better from here, right?”

“Realistically, it can also get worse.”

“Psh, don’t sweat the small stuff. But I’ve already been through a lonely time in my life, but now I won’t be so
lonely. But you know…” he hesitated for a bit, considering how to phrase the next part. He avoided eye
contact with Mingyu and chose to look at the floor.

“Sometimes I get scared that all of this is just in my head. I mean, I’m the only one who can see you when
you’re a demon, right? So sometimes I worry that I’ve gone a little crazy. Maybe I’m just so sick of being alone
that my mind created a friend, and none of it is real... But it is, right? It is real. You’re real, and you’re really
my friend, right?”

The boy chuckled, but his lips showed no sign of a smile. He suddenly looked small and fragile, his shoulders
scrunching inward. He looked as if he would break at any moment. His brows were furrowed, and his lips were
quivering. If Mingyu said the wrong words, he might crumble. It was a side of Hansol he hadn’t seen before,
and it startled him. He panicked slightly and jutted his hand out to pat Hansol on the shoulder to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, hu- er… I mean… don’t worry, H-hansol. It’s real. We’re... friends.”

As soon as the boy heard his own name come from the demon’s mouth, his head snapped up. His eyes were
barely teary, but Mingyu noticed. They were blinked away quickly though, and Hansol grinned widely. He
suddenly jumped at the demon and hugged him tightly. Mingyu could have escaped it at any time, but he
allowed the boy to do this action. He couldn’t refuse him for some reason.

Hansol’s cheery self returned more quickly than Mingyu would have thought possible.

“Thanks for listening. I guess I needed to let out my feelings too, huh?”

“Too? Oh…”

The demon had forgotten that he was supposed to share. However, he wasn’t as hesitant about letting Hansol
hear it. He suddenly felt closer to him after their little heart-to-heart.

“So…”

“So?”

“There is a human… this brat of a human…”

“Yes?”

“And he’s awful, not nice at all…”

“Go on.”

“I am very displeased when I’m around him, but... strange things happen to me when I’m near him or think
about him… It feels unpleasant.”

“Why? What does he make you feel?”

Mingyu paused. He wasn’t exactly sure. He tried to remember what happened to him after seeing Wonwoo.

“I’m not exactly sure. I feel ill. My body doesn’t feel normal.”

“How so?”

“My heartbeat accelerates as if I was injected with a poison, and my body heats with a fever. I can’t think
properly, and I start to lose myself. My mind becomes fuddled, and it doesn’t clear up until he is out of my
mind.”

“Hmm…”

“And I get angry when he speaks… I get angry when he’s with other people..”

Hansol put out a hand to signal for Mingyu to stop for a moment.

“You get angry when he speaks? What does he talk about?”

“What does he talk about? Let me see… I guess most of the time it’s about his beloved step-brother.”

“His step-brother, huh? Are you angry when he’s around this step-brother?”

“Yes, I just told you I get angry when he’s with other people. What should I do? I think he’s cast some sort of
spell on me. A curse of some sort. He makes me feel all these strange things and I don’t know if there’s a
cure.”

“You love him.”

Mingyu froze. He wasn’t quite sure if he heard correctly. Love?

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m 100% positive that you love him.”

“No no no, you’re wrong. That can’t possibly be true.”

“Oh it’s definitely true. Mingyu, my friend, I think you just got your first love. Congratulations! I’m beginning to
think that demons and humans are more alike than you think.”

Mingyu looked at him in disbelief. In silence. For a good minute or two.

“... I think I need more ice cream.”

07
Mingyu woke up to the sunlight glaring through his eyelids. He squeezed his eyes tightly and covered his face
with a wing before closing the curtain with his powers, not bothering to get up from the bed. He rolled over so
that his back faced the window. As he recalled the events from the previous day, he groaned, feeling
embarrassed that he admitted having romantic feelings for a human.

After hours of being in denial, Mingyu had gone through five whole tubs of ice cream. Hansol had to go out
and buy more every time he finished one, because no sane person had that many tubs of ice cream on a
normal everyday basis. Of course, he was happy to do so for his best friend, but he wondered if the demon
was ever going to stop. Eventually, to his relief, Mingyu finally accepted his feelings. However, this was only
just the start of his problems.

“Okay, fine. Let’s say I do love him. What am I supposed to do about it?”

Hansol shrugged, giving him a dull answer.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to say if you’re not sure about your feelings.”

The demon growled in response. “Fine, I love him! What do I do?”

Hansol gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder, along with a smile.

“There we go. The first step was to acknowledge your feelings. Step two is where the real challenge begins.”
Mingyu rubbed his temple in frustration.

“I can’t believe I have to take advice from a human”

“Yes sir, dear Mingyu, you’re taking advice from a human. You have to accept that too. But if it helps you
sleep at night, just say it’s because the person you love is also human,” he said as he grinned cheerfully, but
also slyly.

Mingyu sighed. Why did Hansol have to remind him that he fell in love with a human of all things? He swore
the boy was doing this on purpose. He must be having fun with it.

“What do you think I should do? He already loves someone else...”

“First thing you do is confess.”

There was no doubt about it, he was definitely having fun with it.

“What do you mean confess? I don’t see how that could go well. Maybe I shouldn’t take your advice after all.”

“No wait, hear me out. I have a good reason for it. See, right now, your human crush doesn’t know about your
feelings. If you want them to notice you, they have to know, or they won’t ever look your way.”

The demon crossed his arms and scoffed.

“I’m a demon. There’s no way they haven’t noticed me…”

“Wait, you’re telling me that they know you’re a demon? That must mean… you’re in love with your bound
human, aren’t you?”

Mingyu’s lips twitched slightly. “Stop saying ‘love’, it’s making me sick. Yes, it’s my bound human. So what?”

Hansol clasped his hands together.

“That’s great! It just makes everything easier, since in his eyes, you already stand out. Now, the problem is
getting him to like you back…”

After much consideration, Hansol concluded that confessing was still the way to go. After a one-sided debate,
he managed to get Mingyu to agree to confessing. As soon as possible.

~
Mingyu groaned again, covering his face with his hands. There must have been something strange in that ice
cream from yesterday. Otherwise, why was he such a pushover the night before?

There was a knock on the door. It opened after Mingyu gave a small hum. Hansol popped his head through
the small opening and greeted the demon with a smile.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Get ready to go out. In your human form. We’re going shopping!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mingyu confidently paraded along the streets with pride as he saw humans turn their heads to look at him
with awe. Being the center of attention like this was something he missed about the demon world. Not even
giving his audience a glance, he continued to stride along the streets, relishing the moment. He grinned
smugly to himself before stopping in his tracks. He realized Hansol was supposed to be leading the way, but
he was instead trailing behind Mingyu.

“Hansol, what are you doing? How am I supposed to follow you when you’re behind me?”

Hansol ran into the demon because of the sudden stop, but then timidly tip-toed to his side, playing with the
sleeves of his shirt. A light pink hue appeared on his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry, I’m not used to people staring. Not like that anyway.”

“Like what? Like they envy you?”

“I guess, but more like in an admiring kind of way. I guess it’s just kind of embarrassing… Most of the time if
people look at me, it’s like they’re judging me-oh hey, there it is! There’s where we need to go!”

Hansol jogged lightly ahead and pulled at Mingyu’s elbow to try to drag him along. However, the demon
resisted ever going faster than a walk, so the boy consequently bounced upward more than forward. The two
ended up going at Mingyu’s slow pace but made it to their destination anyways. Hansol enthusiastically
opened the heavy glass door, and a chime was sounded. A store employee was busy with a customer, but
indicated that he had seen the two and would attend to them next.

“What is this place? Why are we here?”

“This is where you’re going to get your first piece of human technology,” Hansol explained as he spread his
arms wide.

The demon scanned the store and saw glass containers with electronic gadgets. There were also TV screens
mounted on the walls, along with gaming systems. It was a plethora of technology, but what was it that they
were getting?
The employee wrapped up his conversation with the previous customer and then motioned for the two new
customers to come to the counter.

“Leave everything to me. Go wait over there,” Hansol said, pointing to some chairs in the corner of the store.

Mingyu looked puzzled and slightly irritated.

“You want me to wait? Why did you bring me here if you wanted me to wait?”

The boy put his hands on the demon’s back and gently pushed him toward the corner.

“It won’t take long. Just wait a few minutes, okay?”

Mingyu grumbled as he made his way to the chairs. He sat down and watched Hansol walk to the counter and
talk to the employee. Hansol seemed to be explaining something to him, but Mingyu wasn’t interested. He was
soon bored, since this was taking much longer than just ‘a few minutes’. It had already been half an hour.
Expecting an even longer wait, the demon decided to take a nap. He crossed his arms leaned his head against
the wall before closing his eyes.

“Mingyu! Sorry, that took longer than I thought it would.”

So much for that nap.

The demon opened his eyes to see a small white box being held in front of his face.

“For you.”

He cautiously took the box and immediately checked its contents. Inside that was a shiny new phone. He
looked up at Hansol.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s to congratulate you on your first love, of course,” he answered. “That and I thought it would be useful for
us to be able to communicate since you’re not coming to my apartment anymore. I got one that I thought
would be easy for you to get used to, since I’m sure you’ve never had a phone before.”

Mingyu was holding the phone and examining the phone strap that was attached to it, but paused at Hansol’s
words.

“What do you mean I’m not going to your apartment anymore?”

“Well I mean, you want your bound human to fall for you, right? It’s probably not a good idea for you to be
living with someone else. So from today on, you’re going to have to get him to let you sleep there. Whatever it
takes… well, try not to force it, but you know what I mean.”

He said this with a bittersweet expression. Mingyu knew that this must be difficult for him, since it meant he
would be alone in his apartment. If Hansol was willing to give up that much, then Mingyu would have to put
that much more effort to gain Wonwoo’s heart.

“I understand. If it’s for the best, then I’ll do that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, we can still hang out, okay?”

Mingyu nodded his head in acknowledgement. He started examining the charm on his phone once again.

“But… why a bunny?”

Hansol smiled. “It’s not a bunny, it’s Tosun. He’s cute, isn’t he? He resembles you.”

The demon looked at the charm once again, trying to see how it resembled him in any way, but couldn’t find
any similarities.

“Tch, you’re a strange human, but it’s not like I didn’t know that already.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mingyu said his goodbyes to Hansol, not knowing when they would meet again. Now, he had to focus all of his
attention to Wonwoo. Hansol warned him that it wouldn’t be easy to gain his heart when it belonged to
another, so he had make sure to put in real effort.

He turned back to his demon form to search for Wonwoo from the skies. As he glided in the air, he waited for
the signaling tug.

It was strange for Mingyu to feel the need to put effort into something. Nothing was ever too difficult for him,
so he wasn’t familiar with having to even think about working hard. It was the first time he felt such a
determination. He was unsure if he liked the feeling or not, as it was still too unfamiliar. But the real question
was, would his efforts result in anything? Normally, he would be certain it would, but with Wonwoo the results
might not be as he hoped for. The human was different, and he was stubborn.

Then he felt it. The slight pull that he was anticipating. He looked in the direction of the pull and spotted him
right away in a public park. He would have gone down to greet him, but the demon saw another familiar face.
One he wasn’t nearly so happy to see.

Seungcheol.
Mingyu was conflicted. He wasn’t expecting Seungcheol to be out of the hospital yet… He did remember the
boy mentioning that he would be released, but the demon wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. He certainly
didn’t expect him to be with Wonwoo, though he should have figured. He circled the area like a raven claiming
a meal as he thought about what he would do. Should he greet them both? Should he wait for them to
separate?

Then, he realized that this might be a good opportunity to obtain more information on the two of them and
their relationship. Eavesdropping it is.

He made sure to keep himself invisible to Wonwoo before slowly descending and landing several feet behind
him. It was close enough for him to be able to hear them converse. The two were walking slowly along the
pathway, and Mingyu followed a meter behind. Besides the two (three) of them, the park was relatively
empty.

“What do you mean you haven’t been promoted? You and I both know you’ve deserved a promotion for ages.
They would be so lost without you! You know they need you. You’re better than all of them! What’s their
problem?”

Wonwoo laughed. “My pay is fine. I don’t need a promotion. Don’t want to get too greedy and then have them
fire me.”

Seungcheol scoffed at the statement.

“There’s no way they would do that. You’re too valuable. Take charge and ask for a promotion, maybe they’re
just waiting for you to suggest it.”

“Like I said, it’s fine. I’m satisfied with my position, and I don’t want to willingly give myself a bigger
workload.”

“I guess you have a point.”

“But I think a more important question to ask is, what are you going to do about your job? Your manager fired
you, right? Even though it was completely unjustified. Does she expect someone to show up to work when
they’re in a coma? What kind of unrealistic expectation is that? But anyways, what are you going to do now?”

Seungcheol looked up at the sky, then turned his head to smile at Wonwoo. He suddenly tackled him into a
bear hug, and Mingyu, still watching from a short distance, flinched in response.

“I’ll just mooch off of you for the rest of my life,” he said cutely, as Wonwoo struggled minimally to get out of
his grasp. When Wonwoo gave up trying to escape, he held him more tightly, and buried his face in his
shoulder.

“Cheol,” Wonwoo giggled.

Mingyu felt his body temperature rising in anger. Why wasn’t he ever that cute to Mingyu? Why did he ever
only show him a scowl? It wasn’t fair. The demon could feel something radiate from within him as a result of
his jealousy, but didn’t know what it was. An unfortunate nearby flower began to shrivel, but the demon didn’t
notice.

Seungcheol rested his chin on Wonwoo’s shoulder, and his expression turned sullen.

“I wish you were this friendly to everyone else. It’s a shame only I know this side of you. No one would ever
believe me if I told them you were this cute.”

Wonwoo stroked Seungcheol’s hair affectionately. Another flower shriveled to its death.

“I don’t care about anyone else. I only need you… a-and mom and dad.”

Seungcheol frowned and separated himself from the boy in front of him. He stared intently into his eyes, but
then sighed.

“I know you’re convinced that you don’t need anyone else, but... what if something happens to me again?
You’ll be all alone.”

Wonwoo’s face had turned somber as well.

“Please don’t say that. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

“But what if it does?”

“Stop. Please. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Wonwoo-”

“No!”

Wonwoo put his head down and shut his eyes. He blocked his ears with the palms of his hands, but
Seungcheol pulled on his wrists to unblock them. Wonwoo’s eyes had turned watery, and Seungcheol was
looking into them with worry.

“Wonwoo, please, I don’t want you to ever be alone. Just try to make new friends, okay? Or maybe you could
try dating-”

“Seungcheol, I don’t need anyone else!”

His voice shook as he spoke, and that shook something within Mingyu. He felt irritated, angry and felt the
need to protect him. How dare Seungcheol make Wonwoo cry? How dare he suggest for him to date someone
while being completely oblivious to the fact that he was the one Wonwoo liked? Feeling strangely possessive,
Mingyu felt the need to interfere. To take Wonwoo away from him.

Everything happened so quickly, and it was as if time slowed down. The series of events happened in less than
five seconds. The first thing Mingyu did was make himself visible. He cast a spell on Seungcheol to make sure
he could see him in his demon form, since there was no point if he didn’t know who he was dealing with. Then
he walked up to Wonwoo, spreading his large wings as he did so. Wonwoo wasn’t facing him, so he hadn’t
seen the demon yet, but Seungcheol did. Mingyu and Seungcheol made eye contact, and the boy’s face turned
into one of sheer horror and disbelief. In a quick moment, Mingyu wrapped one arm around Wonwoo’s waist,
and one across his chest, glaring at Seungcheol as he did so. His eyes glowed red in aggression, and he bared
his canines as if claiming Wonwoo. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the demon as the
innocent boy who had visited him in the hospital, and he furrowed his brows in realization.

“You-”

Mingyu gave him no time to finish his statement, as he propelled both himself and Wonwoo into the air,
watching Seungcheol blinking in confusion and incredulity.

08
wonwoo was frozen from shock at first. He was talking to Seungcheol... No, he was arguing with him... but
suddenly he was hundreds of feet in the air. He arms and feet were dangling, swaying from the movement,
and his breath was mildly shallow from the change in elevation. He watched as Seungcheol got smaller and
smaller while Wonwoo was going higher and higher.

What was happening?

When he recovered from his initial shock, he noticed that there was a pair of arms holding him up. Someone
was carrying him, and that could only mean one thing. He looked back and saw large, black, feathered wings.

“Mingyu, what the hell are you doing? Let me down!”

He struggled to get out of his grasp, but Mingyu’s arms had a firm hold on him.

“Stop moving so much. If you really want me to let you go, it means I’m dropping you from here.”

That was enough to get him to stop struggling, but it didn’t stop him from yelling.

“Where are you taking me? Bring me back to the earth, you stupid demon!”

“Shut up for a minute. I’m looking for a place to land.”

With that, Mingyu flew even higher.

“What the hell? What happened to landing? You’re supposed to go to land, which means to go downward,”
Wonwoo said bitterly. He crossed his arms and pouted, but didn’t try resisting any further. He figured it was in
his best interest not to when they were so high up.

And then, Wonwoo could feel land under his feet again. Except it wasn’t land. They were still very high up, but
on the roof of a building. A skyscraper. One without stairs leading into the building.

When his feet were firmly planted, Mingyu released him. With his arms still crossed, Wonwoo turned around to
face the demon. He made his face look as stern as possible.

“Bring me back down.”

“No.”

“We’re not allowed to be here, and even if we were, I would much rather be closer to Earth.”

“I need to tell you something.”

“I can hear just as well on the ground floor as up here. Take me down.”

“Shut up and listen.”

“Maybe I will if you take me down.”

“Wonwoo.”

Hearing his name in Mingyu’s voice felt strange. Wasn’t this the first time he heard it? There was something
different about the demon. He couldn’t tell what it was, but there was something definitely off.

“I-I’m not listening until you take me down.”

“I love you,” Mingyu snarled.

Wonwoo stiffened. He must have heard very wrongly. Either that or the demon misspoke. Or the demon lost
his sanity. Or it was him who lost his sanity.

He looked at the demon, who looked just as angry as he sounded. His hair and feathers were ruffling in the
wind. His hands were tightened into fists on either side, and his shoulders were tense. His eyebrows were
furrowed, and he was glaring at Wonwoo. His lips were pursed, jaw clenched. Nothing about the demon’s
stance was fitting for a confession. That is, except for his complexion that was increasingly reddening.

Wonwoo took a step back. Mingyu took a step forward.

“You’re crazy.”

Another step back, followed by the demon stepping forward.

“I know.”

Two steps back.

“You don’t love me.”

Two steps forward

“I do.”

Wonwoo stopped. He felt that he was dangerously close to the edge.

“You’re lying.”

The demon took another step, shortening the distance between them.

“I’m not.”

Mingyu took one last step toward Wonwoo.

He was close enough now that Wonwoo could see his reflection from the demon’s eyes. He noticed that they
weren’t just a blood red. They were a fiery red, with vibrant orange hues intensified by the sun. Unlike human
eyes, the colors weren’t stationary. He could see the colors shifting, swirling around the pupil. It was
mesmerizing to the point it was the only thing he could focus on. That is, until he realized that if he could see
so many details in his eyes, he was probably too close. Snapping out of his trance, Wonwoo took a step back,
but his heart dropped when his foot continued to descend past where he expected it to, as he had reached the
edge of the roof.

He could feel himself stiffen and his eyes widen. He wasn’t ready for death, but he could feel it coming. Time
slowed down, and he could feel his body tilting back. His arm came forward automatically as he tried to grab
anything there, but nothing was close enough. His hand clamped at the empty air. He could see Mingyu,
calmly watching as he was falling. He was just out of his reach, but if only the demon outstretched his hand,
Wonwoo could have grabbed it. Was the demon just going to watch him fall? Was it revenge for something he
did? Or did he just want to collect his soul early?

There was something pounding his chest. It made a loud, harsh sound and he could feel it resonating
throughout his body. It echoed into his ears, and he wondered what it was. He laughed at his silly self when
he recognized it as his heart. It was working so hard for someone who was about to die. He laughed at his
silly self for dying so easily. He closed his eyes.
Well I guess no one has to suffer because of me anymore. I’m sorry for everything, Seungcheol.

The ground didn’t come. Death didn’t come. Or did it? Wonwoo felt numb from fear, but he could still feel his
pounding heart. It meant he didn’t die. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself being carried princess-
style by Mingyu. He didn’t know what happened exactly, but they were on the same roof as before, only much
farther from the edge. Seeing the demon made him feel relieved. Though, if it weren’t for Mingyu, he wouldn’t
have been up here in the first place. Still, he didn’t have the will to thank the demon for saving him.

“That’s why I told you to bring me down, stupid.”

Wonwoo could feel the tears welling in his eyes. He wiped them away with trembling fingers, but they
wouldn’t stop. His entire body was shaking, and he couldn’t calm down. He had given up, yet here he was, in
the arms of a demon. Crying. Alive.

“Stupid demon.”

Mingyu knelt to put Wonwoo down, and then the boy started hiccuping. He didn’t get up from where Mingyu
left him. He still kept wiping his face whenever he felt a warm drop run down, but he didn’t say anything
anymore. The demon seemed unsure of what to do, and awkwardly patted Wonwoo on the shoulder. He did
this for a few seconds, but abruptly stopped.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

The demon flew down, leaving Wonwoo by himself. Of course Wonwoo had to stay, there was no way for him
to get down on his own. A moment passed, and he managed to stop crying. The hiccups, on the other hand,
were persistent. He was still a bit shaken, but his mind was stable again.

“Stupid demon,” he said again, sniffling.

Then, his phone rang. He picked it up immediately without looking at the caller ID. It could only be one of few
people, anyways.

“Wonwoo? Are you there? Are you okay? What happened? You just… Did I see right? You were taken… by
some monster... What do I do? It is you, right Wonwoo?”

*hic*

“Are you crying? Wonwoo, are you okay? Are you hurt? What did he do to you? Where are you?”

“I’m fine..” *hic*

Seungcheol’s worried tone turned enraged.

“You’ve been crying. He made you cry. That monster made you cry. What did he do to you? Is he still there?
He’s not trapping you somewhere, is he?”

Technically, yes. Wonwoo couldn’t escape from the rooftop. But it wasn’t like the demon intentionally
imprisoned him.

“No, I’m fine. Just go home. I think we should save our lunch date for another day.”

“Wonwoo-”

He ended the call and then took the battery out from his phone. As bad as he felt for hanging up on
Seungcheol, his day was thoroughly spoiled by the near-death experience. And the demon’s confession. That
was weird too. Why would he do that? Whatever happened to Wonwoo not being his type?

What was there even to like about me?

By now, the hiccups had ceased. He stood up and patted his pants to remove dust. He took a few deep
breaths and looked at the city. If he wasn’t so distracted earlier, he would have noticed what an amazing view
it was. He could see the buildings, the river, the trains, and the mountains all so clearly. Was that the reason
Mingyu took him here? To confess in such a place? It couldn’t be… was the demon was trying to be romantic?

He burst out it laughter when he remembered the angry confession. The demon seemed clumsier than when
he first met him. Or maybe he was always that way and Wonwoo just didn’t realize?

Just then, out in the distance, he could see Mingyu again, carrying a plastic bag and flying towards him. When
he reached the rooftop, he landed gracefully in front of Wonwoo, who was looking at him with curiosity. The
demon turned his head away, but then looked down at the boy with his eyes. He looked away again and held
up the plastic bag.

“It helps.”

“Helps what? What is it?”

The demon shoved the bag further in the boy’s face, so Wonwoo took it, still unsure of what it was for. It was
heavier than he thought it would be. He opened the bag, and inside was three tubs of ice cream. Three full-
sized tubs of ice cream. And several plastic spoons.

“What’s this for?”

“Earlier you… you know…you were crying… Just eat it! Stop asking questions!”

Wonwoo stared at the demon with a puzzled expression. Then he looked inside the bag again. Eat it? All of it?
“Who the hell eats three tubs of ice cream in one sitting?”

The bag was swiftly taken out of his hands before he realized it. He looked up and saw Mingyu stomping
away, bag in hand.

“Fine, it’s not like I bought it for you anyways, ungrateful little brat,” the demon grumbled angrily, loud
enough for Wonwoo to hear.

The demon sat down several feet away from him and opened the bag. He pulled out a tub and a plastic spoon
and began gorging on the ice cream. He ate quickly in fury.

“Of course I bought these for myself,” he muttered, slightly less angrily than before.

Wonwoo slowly walked to where the demon was seated and took a seat himself. The demon paused, spoon
halfway to his mouth, as he watched Wonwoo pull out a tub for himself, along with a spoon. The boy took a
scoop of strawberry ice cream and put it in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut when it was colder than he
expected it to be. After swallowing his first bite, he looked at the demon who was still frozen.

“What?” Wonwoo asked nonchalantly as he took another scoop. “You told me to eat it, didn’t you?”

The demon put his spoon down, and it seemed like he was going to stop eating. But then he continued to
ravish the ice cream at an even faster pace than before. He finished his tub much more quickly than Wonwoo
thought would be possible.

The demon was onto his second tub before Wonwoo was even halfway finished with his first. Wonwoo
wondered all the ice cream was going. It certainly didn’t seem like it was going in Mingyu’s stomach. It was
much too flat.

Mingyu finished the second tub even faster than the first. He put his spoon in the empty tub and closed his
eyes, bringing a hand to his temple.

“Brain freeze?”

“No, shut up, I’m thinking.”

Wonwoo was offended, but he shut up anyways. Somehow, eating the strawberry ice cream seemed to
prevent him from being overly annoyed. It helped him stay calm. Wonwoo thought for a moment. Maybe
that’s what Mingyu was trying to get at earlier when he said it would help? It would help calm him down from
his crying fit?

Oh. So that’s what he meant.

Wonwoo was two-thirds of the way done with the tub, but he couldn’t eat any more. How was it that the
demon was able to eat two of these?

Just then, a sigh escaped the demon’s lips. There was a pause. Then another sigh followed by the demon
blankly staring at nothing. Obviously, he wasn’t going to share the reason he was so bothered, but Wonwoo
didn’t care much.

“So… can we please go back down now?”

No response.

“I think we’ve been up here long enough.”

Still no response.

Wonwoo stood up and kicked the demon in the leg.

“Come on, take me down already. Haven’t you hoarded me for long enough? I want to go home.”

Mingyu blinked thrice as he finally came back to his senses. He looked up at the boy who just kicked him.

“I can’t believe it.”

“What, that I kick you?”

“No… yes, actually, but that’s not what I meant…”

“Then what?”

“That I still love you even though you kicked me.”

Wonwoo was taken aback by the forward statement, not used to anyone professing their love to him so
directly. Or at all. He almost forgot why he wanted the demon’s attention in the first place.

“J-just take me home now, will you?”

“Home? You want to go home?”

“Yes, for the twentieth time.”

“Can I come with you?”

Come with him? Come home with him? Mingyu wanted to come home with Wonwoo? He had a bad feeling he
wouldn’t be able to avoid this.

“Not this again. Please not this again. No. You can’t come with me.”

Mingyu stood up and started walking to the edge of the roof, spreading his wings.

“Fine.”

He was going to leave without him. He was going to leave Wonwoo stranded on the roof of a skyscraper
unless the boy agreed to let him inside his home.

I knew it.

“OKAY, FINE!”

The demon stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned his head, revealing a sly smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Hmm?”

“Fine, you can come home with me. Happy? Now take me down.”

The demon turned around and walked back to Wonwoo. He scooped the boy in his arms and flashed a devilish
grin.

“As you wish.”

09
Mingyu could feel the solid wood floor, warmed from the morning sun. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it
reminded him of the demon world. Still, he preferred a bed. Nice, soft, bouncy and comfortable. When he
returned to the demon world, he should take a bed from the human world with him.

But hadn’t he slept a bed? He slowly opened his eyes. He was slightly disoriented from sleep and tried making
sense of his surroundings, realizing after a few seconds that he was at Wonwoo’s house. He saw that he was
about a foot away from a couch (and not a bed) that he had fallen from at some point in the middle of the
night. It must not have been that painful of a fall if he didn’t wake up from it. He rolled over and used his
arms to push himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes as he rose. He then stretched his arms and yawned.

The room was peaceful, and judging from the lack of sounds in the house, Wonwoo was probably still fast
asleep and the demon wondered if he should wake him up. It felt strange to think about waking someone up
since Hansol was always the one to wake him up. Even in the demon world, it would always be a lesser
demon who woke Mingyu. Still, he never thought he would be the one waking anyone up, and at the same
time, he wouldn’t have imagined that Wonwoo would be one to sleep in.

He made his way to Wonwoo’s door in light steps. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly,
but he suddenly heard someone inserting a key in the front door. Startled, he released the doorknob, which
made a rattle as it snapped back to its original position. Mingyu could hear Wonwoo groan and turn over,
ignoring the sound, not wanting to wake up.

But if Wonwoo was still sleeping in his room, who was trying to get in?

The demon turned around to check the entryway. As he walked toward the front, he could hear the rustle of
someone removing their shoes. When he meet the visitor, his first reaction was to get him out of the house
before Wonwoo woke up.

Before Seungcheol looked up from taking off his shoes, he was being carried on Mingyu’s shoulder, and was
being taken out from where he came from.

“Wha… It’s you! What do you think you’re doing? What were you doing in Wonwoo’s house? What did you do
to him yesterday? Who are you? What are you? Put me down!”

Seungcheol was kicking with his shoeless feet to try to loosen the demon’s grip, but it was of no use. It was
no matter though, since Mingyu didn’t carry him for long. He didn’t want to touch him for longer than
necessary, anyway. He only took him to the neighborhood playground before dropping him not so gently into
the sand. The boy shut his eyes as he landed harshly on his butt.

Without missing a beat, the boy got up quickly and grabbed Mingyu’s collar. With the height difference
between the tall demon and average boy, it wasn’t very intimidating. The fact that it was a human threatening
him made it even less so.

“I asked you a question, you monster! What did you do to Wonwoo?”

Rage was seething between his teeth as he hissed at the demon. However, the demon was unfazed. Mingyu
immediately grabbed Seungcheol’s wrists and easily pulled them away from his collar before shoving them
away. He stretched his torso to appear even taller than he was in order to look down at the boy in a
condescending manner.

Now that it was the two of them alone, it was a good time for Mingyu to convince the boy to stay away from
Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t going to fall out of love if he continued seeing Seungcheol around.

“Listen you, human brat, you’re precious little Wonwoo is fine. If you want him to stay that way, it would be
best if you stayed away.”

“Is that a threat?”

“If it makes you stay away, then yes.”

“And if I don’t comply?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Seungcheol uttered a small sound as he tried to search for an answer to that question. Even when he couldn’t
find one, he didn’t back down. He continued to glower upward at the demon in front of him.

“What are you and what do you want with Wonwoo?”

The demon scoffed as he took a step back. He started laughing and in response, Seungcheol backed away
cautiously.

“What do I want with Wonwoo?”

He continued to laugh as Seungcheol stared at him with a frustrated expression. His laughter died down and
he gave a quick smirk.

“It’s a secret,” the demon whispered, placing his index on his lips.

“You! What th-”

“Ah-ah,” the demon now extended the index finger and waved it side to side. “Mingyu.”

“Huh?”

“Mingyu, the second most powerful demon in existence. You should watch your words if you don’t want to get
hurt, brat.”

The demon scowled, and Seungcheol mimicked his expression.

“Why are you hanging around him so much, huh? Why are you so obsessed with him? Don’t think I don’t
recognize you from the hospital that day! You tricked me to get closer to him, didn’t you?”

“Oh, come on. You can’t be that dumb, can you? Why do you think a demon hang around a human so much?
Haven’t you ever heard what kinds of business transactions happen between a human and a demon?”

Seungcheol stopped for a moment as the words business transaction registered into his head.
“You don’t mean…” he swallowed. “You’re going to eat his soul?”

“Is that what they teach you in school? That’s preposterous. No, we don’t eat the souls we collect. But his soul
is promised to me when the contract is fulfilled.”

“No…”

“Yes. And would you like to guess why he would promise his soul to me?”

Seungcheol looked down and to the side, thinking of what the answer could have been. He leaned on one leg
and crossed his arms.

“Wonwoo’s not selfish… there’s no way he would have sold his soul to benefit himself.”

“Then?”

“If he was doing it for someone else…”

“Yes?”

The boy’s eyes widened when he came to a conclusion.

“No.. he didn’t... he couldn’t have…”

“What?”

The boy looked up at the demon, suddenly looking regretful. His lips wavered slightly as he looked directly at
the demon.

“Did he do it for me?“

The demon smirked. “Bingo.”

Seungcheol stepped back, agony suddenly creeping up on him. He covered his face.

“Oh my god, I just keep hurting him. Me. I’m the one hurting him.”

More than you know.

Their conversation was interrupted by a jingle coming from Mingyu’s pocket. The unexpected noise startled
the demon, and his control of the situation seemed to vanish. He took out the phone and looked at the screen,
which notified him that ‘HVC my bestie <3’ was calling.

“Why did he input that as his name,” the demon mumbled under his breath.

Seungcheol uncovered his face when he heard Mingyu speak, though the utterance wasn’t intended for him.
He saw the phone in the demon’s hand.

“Hmm? A bunny?”

“Shut up, it’s not a bunny. It’s Tosun,” he snapped. He turned away in irritation before accepting Hansol’s call.

“What is it?”

“Hey, Mingyu! What’s up? How did your date go?”

“Date? What do you mean? I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to go on a date.”

“What? What were you doing all day yesterday then? Don’t tell me you haven’t confessed yet…”

“I did confess.”

“You did? Without going on a date?”

“I did. What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that? Mingyu, how do you expect him to develop feelings for you if you aren’t being
romantic in any way?”

Mingyu puffed when he remembered all of the painful preparations he took to confess.

“It’s not like I didn’t try…”

“Well, what’s done is done, right? What happened? Did he miraculously accept your feelings? What did he say?
Come on, tell me all the details!”

“He said… wait a minute… he never replied!”

“Oh, well that’s very not nice of him.”

“Great. What am I supposed to do now?”

“What can I tell you? Confess again.”

“Again? You’re not serious...”

“Yeah, let’s go about it that way. Confess again, but this time go on a proper date. Got it? Go to an
amusement park or something.”

“An… amusement park?”

“Yeah, it’s a classic dating spot! It can’t fail! Oh, and when you confess, do it at the top of the ferris wheel. It
has to be there. It’s the most romantic way to go!”

The demon cleared his throat.

“If… if you say so…”

“You can do it! I’m cheering for you, man.”

“A-alright... I’ll do it.”

The demon could feel heat rising to his face. He cleared his throat put his hand on his hip, ignoring the
sensation.

“That’s the spirit!”

“But, what if it doesn’t work?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Good luck for now! Bye!”

-click-

There was a dial noise at the other end of the line after Hansol hung up. The demon put the phone back in his
pocket.

I swear that kid is having too much fun with this.

He turned back to continue his conversation with Seungcheol, but when he looked, the boy was nowhere to be
seen.

That sneaky brat!

Mingyu turned on his heels and headed for Wonwoo’s house. There was no doubt that it was where
Seungcheol was headed.

“That stupid human, of course he flees as soon as I’m not looking at him,” grumbled the demon.

When he reached the house, he found that the front door was both closed and locked. Seungcheol must have
done that on purpose. Mingyu walked along the perimeter of the house, and when he was able to hear voices,
he stopped and leaned, pressing his ear against the house walls.

“It’s okay, Seungcheol. All that matters is that you’re back, right?”

It was Wonwoo’s voice. He was speaking in a somewhat solemn manner. Mingyu could recognize the next
voice as Seungcheol’s.

“You shouldn’t have done it. Not for me, anyways…”

“I didn’t just do it for you, you know”

“But-”

“Don’t feel too bad about it. I know you would have done the same for me.”

“Still…”

Seungcheol must have told Wonwoo that he knew about the demon and their contract. He must either be
really brave, or a complete idiot for not heeding Mingyu’s warning to stay away from Wonwoo. With what
Mingyu knew of him, it was more likely that he was an idiot.

“Hey, if you want to make it up to me, why don’t you make me something? Make me omurice,” Wonwoo said
lightly, trying to lift the mood.

Seungcheol chuckled. “You know I don’t cook as well as you do.”

“I don’t care. I want to eat Seungcheol omurice today.”

Mingyu knew Wonwoo was smiling, even though he couldn’t see it. It seemed that for Seungcheol, Wonwoo’s
smile was a natural occurrence. Would it ever be for Mingyu?

“Alright, alright. Seungcheol omurice it is. Don’t blame me if it’s not very good.”
The voices died as they left the room, and Mingyu followed along the wall to be able to hear them again. He
stopped when he heard the clattering of a pan, indicating that they were in the kitchen. There was the sound
of chopping, though it wasn’t very fast. Seungcheol must not be that skilled at cutting vegetables. Then the
sound of sizzling overrode any other noise. Until there was a playful shout.

“Hey, stop that Wonwoo. I can’t cook properly with you clinging onto me like that.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t expect the omurice to be that good anyways.”

“Hey!”

Then, there was laughter. A bright laughter that came from the two brothers in the kitchen. Mingyu couldn’t
be angry because it was a beautiful sound. Too beautiful and too painful for him to bear. Was love supposed
to be painful? It probably wasn’t good for his heart to be listening to the two any longer, so he backed off
from the walls of the house. He didn’t know where to go, so he went to the front door and leaned his back
against it, slowly sinking to the floor. He sat there for countless hours doing nothing, and merely looked at the
sky. He watched the clouds float by, and the color change from a baby blue, to hues of orange, pink and
violet. He watched as the stars appeared, bit by bit, as the sky darkened to a navy blue. Slowly... Ever so
slowly.

Will he ever get Wonwoo to fall for him?

Mingyu’s thought was interrupted when the door he had been leaning on no longer supported him. He fell on
his back and made eye contact with Seungcheol, who was looking down at him after opening the door. The
boy squinted his eyes at the demon, indicating that he wasn’t at all pleased to see him.

“Were you here this whole time? Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

Wonwoo touched Seungcheol’s arm lightly. Mingyu looked away as he got up from the ground.

“Seungcheol, it’s fine.”

“He keeps bothering you, right? Can’t you get rid of him with exorcism or something?

“Hey!”

“Seungcheol, just go home. I can handle him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

Wonwoo’s comment made Mingyu’s heart rate accelerate slightly, and made Seungcheol slightly confounded.
Both of them were surprised at his lack of coldness toward the demon.

“But didn’t he kidnap you yesterday?”

“Hey, that was because you-”

“Yeah, well his intentions weren’t bad.”

“I didn’t kidnap-”

“He made you cry!”

“That was my fault. Like I said, I can handle him.”

Seungcheol seemed to have run out of arguments, and accepted Wonwoo’s word.

“Oh… I… yeah okay. I’ll go home then.”

The boy left with a dazed look on his face, and didn’t look back once. Mingyu observed Wonwoo, who watched
with a bittersweet smile as his brother left. When the boy was no longer in view, Wonwoo turned around to
return back inside, leaving the door open for Mingyu to enter as well. The demon hesitated, but followed him
inside.

Wonwoo’s behavior toward Mingyu still wasn’t friendly, but it was enough of a change to give him hope. He
wasn’t necessarily opening himself to the demon, but he wasn’t closing himself off either. It was a small
change, but it was a change nonetheless. Perhaps it was possible to make him fall for Mingyu. It gave the
demon enough confidence to take Hansol’s advice from earlier.

“Wonwoo!”

The boy jumped, startled from the sudden outburst. He turned himself to face the demon.

“W-what?”

“Let’s go to an amusement park!”

“What? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“We can go tomorrow, right?”

“What? No! I have work tomorrow.”

“Then when?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Why? Why do you want to go so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mingyu mimicked the boy’s actions and crossed his arms as well. “I want to go on a date
with you.”

Wonwoo almost fell over, but he caught himself just in time.

“And why would you want to do that?”

“Because I love you,” the demon said bluntly.

The boy froze. When he recovered from the shock, he turned away from the demon and started heading
toward his room.

“What the hell? You’re not supposed to say that so easily,” the boy mumbled.

The demon followed him.

“So, can we go? Is that a yes?”

Wonwoo stopped at the door to his bedroom and placed his hand on the doorknob.

“We can go on the weekend.”

He entered the room and quickly and shut the door, creating a slight gust of wind that parted the locks of hair
on Mingyu’s face. A smile slowly crept onto the demon’s lips, and he started started laughing giddily.

“Go to sleep!” Wonwoo shouted from inside his room.

Mingyu went over to the couch and laid himself down, but there was no way he was going to get any sleep
that night.

10
“No, you can’t come with me to work.”
Mingyu was blocking the way out of the front door with his body, his back leaning against it. His arms were
outstretched, and his fingertips spread wide, trying to create as much of a barrier as possible. Wonwoo’s hand
was securely holding the doorknob, the other hand holding onto a suitcase, and he was glaring at Mingyu,
who was returning the fierce gaze. They were having a sort of unofficial staring contest, and they had been in
this position for five minutes.

“What does it matter? I’ll make sure no one can see me.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then why not?”

“Mingyu, I’m going to be late, let me leave!”

“Take me with you!”

Wonwoo tried to open the door, but with Mingyu being impossibly strong, he wasn’t able to budge it in the
slightest. The boy started to pant ever so slightly, and the demon wondered if he really exerted enough force
to be out of breath. Then, the two continued staring at each other again, not blinking as if doing so meant
defeat in their argument.

“Mingyu!”

“What’s wrong with wanting to spend more time with you?”

“You’ll spend time with me this weekend! Just be patient until then!”

“Wonwoo~”

“I can’t take you. You’re going to distract me. And I have work to do.”

“I won’t bother you.”

Wonwoo seemed to get more anxious with every tick of the clock. His foot tapped in impatience, and there
was a frown plastered on his face, but Mingyu wouldn’t move from where he was. Another five minutes had
passed.

“What do you want, huh? Is there anything you want other than coming to work with me?”

With Wonwoo this desperate, Mingyu wondered how large of a request he could ask for. He wanted to follow
Wonwoo to work, yes, but was there anything he wanted more? That was an easy question to answer. He
could feel his heart start to pick up speed as he prepared himself to make his request. He licked his lips before
speaking.
“I want a kiss.”

Wonwoo blinked, losing their unofficial contest. Without moving the rest of his body, the boy turned his head
to the side and huffed a frustrated sigh, but then looked down at his watch. His foot stamped even harder as
he thought about the two choices he had, and he rustled his hair from the stress. He looked at his watch again
and took a deep breath.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Wonwoo took his hand off the doorknob and grabbed Mingyu’s collar instead. He pulled himself up to plant a
quick peck on the demon’s cheek before coming back down, using the downward momentum to try to pull the
demon away from the door with the hand that was still grabbing onto his collar. Because Mingyu didn’t resist
this time, he was easily removed from the doorway. The boy stumbled a bit as he left.

Mingyu stood stunned because of just how easy that was. Granted, he was hoping for a kiss on the lips and
not the cheek, but it wasn’t like he had specified. He could feel his heart thumping loudly, crashing against his
chest at the unexpected rush of emotions as he recalled the fresh memory over again. He placed his hand
over his chest, wondering if it was beating at a dangerous rate. The boy’s lips were soft, and quite warm. They
seemed warmer than the first time they kissed to seal their contract, but maybe he just didn’t notice it then.

When his heart didn’t settle, he left the house to chase after the boy, who had not yet made it far. When he
reached him, he noticed a slight flush on the boy’s face. Was it because he was jogging, or because of the kiss
earlier? He ran to the side and slightly behind the boy in light steps.

“That stupid demon, I’m not going to make my bus…”

Wonwoo perked up ever so slightly in alertness when he noticed the sound of footsteps that weren’t his. He
slowly looked back and saw Mingyu, who flashed him a smile. He coughed once before speaking discreetly in a
loud whisper.

“Why are you here? I gave you your kiss. Go home!”

“I never said I would follow you if you kissed me… You only asked me what I wanted…”

Wonwoo slowed down his pace and eventually stopped. His expression was of one of disbelief and betrayal,
with a hint of embarrassment. He sighed, looking up at the sky as he did so. Then, he paused, tilting his head
slightly as if he had an epiphany. He looked at his watch, then at his surroundings, then at Mingyu.

“You know what? It’s your fault I’m late anyways. Can’t you fly me there or something? Would it be faster that
way?”

The demon looked at their surroundings as well to see if anyone was watching. When he was sure that no one
was watching, he shoved the boy into a hidden alleyway in order to keep anyone from watching, but the push
resulted in Wonwoo almost falling over face first. Mingyu caught him before he hit the ground, but Wonwoo
didn’t get up. Wonwoo’s eyes were closed, and his suitcase slipped out of his fingertips onto the floor.
Something was wrong.

“Wonwoo?”

The demon flipped him over to see his face more clearly, and shook him a bit to try to wake him up. The boy
was flushed, and his breathing wasn’t consistent. Mingyu also noticed that the boy was exuding more heat
than usual.

“Wonwoo, wake up!”

When the boy didn’t wake, the demon was set to panic mode. He didn’t know what to do other than to bring
Wonwoo back home, where he was in a safe place. He picked the boy up, along with the abandoned suitcase,
and rushed back to the house. When he got there, he carefully placed the boy on top his own bed. He left the
bedroom and closed the door behind him, and went to close the front door that he left open. Then, he called
for Hansol.

“Hey, Mingyu! What’s up?” Hansol asked in a cheery manner.

“Hansol, help me, I think my human is dying!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… calm down. What’s wrong? He’s dying? What happened? Shouldn’t you take him to a
hospital?”

“I don’t know… it just all happened so fast…”

“What’s wrong exactly? It’s hard for me to give you advice when I have nothing to go by.”

“Uh, he’s not waking up. He fell, and he’s not waking up. And he’s much warmer than he should be. I think he
was acting a little strange this morning?”

“Strange how?”

“I…”

The demon was suddenly feeling self-conscious, remembering the kiss once again. He was ready to change
the subject, but with Wonwoo’s life on the line, he decided to forget his pride.

“I asked him to kiss me and he did.”

Mingyu could feel himself burning up, and wondered if he should be worried about himself as well. However,
by now he was familiar with the burning sensation being caused by something Wonwoo related.
“He kissed you? Nice!”

“Hansol, this isn’t the time. What should I do?”

“Sorry, was there anything else?”

The demon could hear Wonwoo having a coughing fit and rushed to the boy’s room. On his way there, he
yelled into the phone.

“He’s coughing... do you think he had something poisonous?”

Mingyu opened the bedroom door and saw that Wonwoo was still lying down, but he was conscious. The boy
rolled over onto his side so that his back was facing the demon. He then took out his own cellphone and dialed
a number. He didn’t seem to notice that Mingyu was watching him.

Wonwoo put the phone over his ear and waited until someone picked up. Mingyu could hear a man’s deep
voice pick up, and Wonwoo spoke.

“Team leader Lee? Sorry for calling last minute, but I don’t think I can make it to work.” He coughed. “I must
have caught something over the weekend.”

Mingyu could hear the man respond. “Oh, okay. Make sure to get plenty of rest. If you’re not better tomorrow,
don’t push yourself to come, okay?”

“Thank you, Team leader Lee.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo ended the call and roughly tossed his phone onto the bedside table, groaning as he did so. He
rubbed his face, and then curled into a ball.

“Mingyu?”

Hansol was still on the line, and the demon just then remembered it. He closed Wonwoo’s bedroom door and
stepped into the living room.

“Yeah?”

Hansol sighed.
“How much of that did you hear?”

“How much of what?”

“None of it, I guess…”

“What?”

“I was just saying that it sounds like he’s sick, but I don’t think it’s anything deadly. He probably has a cold or
flu or something like that. Just give him lots of love and care and he’ll be better in no time!”

“So he’s not dying?”

“No Mingyu, he’s not dying.”

“Okay… what do I do?”

And so Hansol instructed the demon on how to cure a sick patient. He gave him a list of foods Wonwoo should
and shouldn’t eat, and told him to keep him warm and hydrated. He also told him that the most important
thing was to allow Wonwoo to be as selfish as he wanted. It didn’t necessarily help cure a sickness, but would
make it much more bearable.

Mingyu ended his phone call with Hansol before entering Wonwoo’s room once again. The boy was fast
asleep, sprawled out on the bed with his tie loosened and a few of his buttons undone. He looked entirely
defenseless. It was a sight Mingyu would have enjoyed, if not for the fact that he was worried about the boy.
Wonwoo always had a wall built around himself, and it seemed to take such a painfully slow time to knock
down even part of that wall. Seeing him relaxed, although he was suffering, made Mingyu almost grateful for
the sickness.

“Wonwoo,” he called gently.

The boy furrowed his eyebrows as he slowly opened his eyes. After blinking a few times, he looked over at his
visitor by the doorway.

“Mingyu? Ah, was it you who carried me here?”

Mingyu nodded.

“I see. Sorry for troubling you.”

That was the first time he heard anything close to an apology from Wonwoo. It shocked him, but he realized
he shouldn’t take anything Wonwoo said to heart. Not today at least.
“Just let me sleep today. I’ll feel better in no time.”

He rolled over to his side and curled into a ball again, slightly shivering. As if it were a reflex, the demon ran to
the hallway to find extra blankets. As many as he could find. Hansol told him to keep Wonwoo warm, after all.
He was able to find three, one of which was so thin it could barely count for a blanket, but it was as good as
he could get. He stepped back into Wonwoo’s room and laid the blankets one by one on top of the boy.

When he was finished with that, he went to fetch bottled waters and placed them on the bedside table. In
case Wonwoo were to be too weak, he pre-opened the bottles so the boy wouldn’t have to struggle to open
them. Then, he made his way to the kitchen.

Porridge. It was a simple dish that seemed simple to make. Unfortunately, the demon had never cooked
anything before, so anything was bound to be a challenge for him. The first challenge was finding the
ingredients. Luckily, there was rice already made in the rice cooker, leftovers from the day before. He looked
all around for seemingly healthy ingredients, but all he could find were baby carrots. Carrot porridge it was.

Once the demon found a pot, the rest was self explanatory. Put everything in the pot and let it boil with some
water. Besides the fact that it took him a while to figure out how the stove worked, Mingyu thought everything
went smoothly. All he had to do was wait for the finished product. Hansol told him it would take around half
an hour, so he stood in front of the stove the entire thirty minutes at the pot. It had a lid on it, so the only
thing he could see was the steam escaping for the last half of the cooking time. He turned off the heat and let
the pot cool before taking it to Wonwoo’s room.

Wonwoo was sound asleep, and he definitely seemed warmer than before. It almost seemed like a shame to
wake him. So he didn’t. Instead, he set the pot of food down on the bedside table, pushing aside the other
things that were already on there. He spilled one of the water bottles onto the floor as he did so, and was
silently regretting that he opened them all, and not just one. After cleaning the spill as best as he could with a
towel, he looked at the peacefully sleeping Wonwoo.

The boy had snuggled into the blankets, and had curled into a ball so much that his head was no longer
resting on the pillow. Mingyu leaned over the bed to get a closer look at his face, placing a hand on the bed to
keep his balance. Wonwoo’s expression was so peaceful it was almost calming. Since the boy wouldn’t be able
to shoo him away, the demon took the opportunity to really look at the boy. What he found was that Wonwoo
was beautiful. Mingyu wondered why he hadn’t really noticed before, but the boy in front of him was
breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Mingyu was so used to seeing his own face that
beautiful people didn’t faze him, but Wonwoo truly was his own work of art.

Mingyu did nothing but look at the boy for a long moment, and it wasn’t until his arm started to hurt from
holding himself up that he realized it. He couldn’t wake the boy now, but he didn’t have anything to do with
him asleep. So the demon lay down on the bed so that the two were facing each other. He draped his wing
over the boy to provide some more warmth, and then watched him sleep. He watched the boy’s chest rise and
fall subtly and his index finger twitch every so often. He wondered what Wonwoo was dreaming about right
then, and if Mingyu ever appeared in any of his dreams previously. He wondered how often the boy thought
about him during the day, if at all. Thoughts like these occupied the demon’s mind, and slowly lulled him to
sleep.
11
Wonwoo felt himself slipping back into consciousness, waking up from being too hot. He could feel a thin layer
of sweat all over his body, and it was uncomfortable enough for him to want to get up. He opened his eyes to
find Mingyu sleeping in front of him. When he first saw the demon’s sleeping face, he was puzzled, but the
morning’s events slowly came back into his memory. He vaguely remembered being carried to the bed, and
then later calling to take a day off work. He concluded that he fell asleep soon after that. After resting for so
long, he felt much better, even if he wasn’t completely cured.

He tried to lift the layered blankets off, but they were too heavy. He looked at the blankets and saw one of
Mingyu’s large wings on top of him. He never thought that his wings would be so heavy. He gave up trying to
move it, and opted for snaking his way out from the covers. He enjoyed the refreshingly cool air biting into his
skin as he stretched. Once he was fully awake, he made the motion to reach for his phone to check for any
messages, but when he looked at the bedside table, he found that there were more things there than he
remembered.

For one, there were several water bottles that were sitting there, already opened. And for another, there was
a large, lidded pot. He hovered his hand around the sides to check if any heat radiated from it, but when there
was no heat, he lightly touched it. It was cold. He opened the lid out of curiosity and nearly laughed at the
poor excuse of porridge that was inside. The rice itself was fine, but the problem was what was in the
porridge. There was only one other ingredient, it seemed, and it was carrots. Baby carrots. And the carrots
weren’t sliced up in the slightest. There were whole baby carrots being suspended by the thick porridge.

Wonwoo chuckled softly, thinking about how clumsy Mingyu was. The demon was probably thousands of years
older, but somehow, he seemed younger.

The boy brought his head toward the pot to sniff it. Not surprisingly, it smelled plain. He took the pot and
brought it to the kitchen and placed it on the stove, wanting to warm it up a bit. While he was up, he decided
to enhance the porridge a bit. It was too late to salvage the giant chunks of carrots, but he could add a few
things to make it less plain. He chopped up some onions and radish and added them to the pot, stirring gently
until well heated. When those were cooked, he added beaten eggs and a splash of soy sauce, then topped it
off with decorative seaweed and roasted sesame seeds.

The boy was hungry from not having eaten for so long, and porridge was the ideal meal. He sat himself down
on the dining table to eat, bringing the pot with him, not bothering to scoop some of the porridge out in a
separate bowl. He was able to cut some of the carrots into chunks with his spoon, since they were boiled for
so long, so it ended up not being that bad. He did laugh a few times to himself when he remembered how
ridiculously large they were originally.

He wasn’t able to finish the entire pot, but he did have a decent amount. Enough to make him feel full at
least. After eating, and the fact that he didn’t have work, he felt like he had a lot of time and nothing to do. So
he went over to the couch to watch some variety shows.

Soon, Wonwoo was laughing his heart out at the ridiculous missions that the variety show members were
forced to complete. He must have been louder than he realized, because Mingyu had emerged from the
hallway, looking curiously at what made Wonwoo laugh so hard in the first place.
The boy suddenly felt self-conscious. especially since not many knew of his love for variety shows. He hadn’t
meant to wake the demon up, but it was too late to change the channel. The demon didn’t seem to care
though. He stood by the hall, not approaching Wonwoo, eyed the boy cautiously.

“Are you… better?”

“Better than this morning,” Wonwoo replied calmly.

The demon looked at the kitchen and dining room, his eyes spotting the pot that contained the porridge he
made.

“I see you ate.”

“Yes, I did.”

“It wasn’t bad?”

“No.”

Wonwoo hadn’t intentionally made the conversation awkward. He wanted to be nicer to the demon, since he
put so much effort into caring for his sick self, but it was surprisingly hard to keep a friendly conversation.

“What are you watching?”

“Oh this? It’s a variety show, where the members do all kinds of challenges that seem pretty impossible, and
they’re competing against each other, and sometimes against other famous people, and it’s really interesting
to see when idols break their image, but that’s okay, we know they’re all human. It’s really funny, and I don’t
know how they keep coming up with ideas for the show.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows were raised slightly, and Wonwoo was positive that it was because of his excited rant,
rather than the contents of the rant. When the boy realized what just happened, he clamped his mouth shut,
not wanting to embarrass himself any further. He must have sounded so childish just then. He looked away
and cleared his throat to regain some of his adult pride.

“Anyways, it’s just a show.”

“Can I watch with you?”

Wonwoo looked at Mingyu, who took a step in his direction. He didn’t seem to have any evil intentions.

The boy patted the couch on the empty spot next to him, and the demon walked over to sit down. He sat
almost politely, slowly sinking into the couch, keeping his back mostly straight. He stared intensely into the TV,
and he slowly relaxed into a comfortable position. Soon, the two of them were laughing along to the comedic
moments on screen.

For the first time, Wonwoo thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad to open up to people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally the day Mingyu had been waiting for. The day he had the chance to be on a date alone with
Wonwoo.

Mingyu was excited for the long awaited day, and the two of them left to go the amusement park together.
The demon was in his human form so that he could freely interact with Wonwoo without the boy looking like
he was talking to himself. They would look like a couple in the eyes of many, since two people on an outing as
such usually meant they were dating. Only, it wasn’t just the two of them. To the demon’s great
disappointment, when they go to the gates, Seungcheol was there. When Seungcheol spotted the two of them
approach him, he looked equally as disappointed.

“Wonwoo, what is he doing here? You never mentioned him! I thought we were just going to spend some
quality time together!”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m the one that planned this. What are you doing here?”

Seungcheol pouted and turned his face away, not looking at the demon. So the demon turned the target of his
question.

“Wonwoo, this is supposed to be a date. Why is Seongchoon here when it’s supposed to be the two of us?”

Seungcheol scoffed. “A date? You wanted to go on a date with Wonwoo? Don’t make me laugh. What makes
you think he would want to go on a date with you? I get it now, that’s why he must have invited me. So he
isn’t alone with you.”

Wonwoo sighed, looking between the two unhappy characters. “Seungcheol, be nice. And still, Mingyu? You
still don’t know his name?”

“...”

“...”

He sighed again and started walking through the entrance without them.

“Are you guys coming?”

Mingyu and Seungcheol gave each other a quick glare, silently gaining a sense of rivalry before following the
boy.

At first, Wonwoo was seemed most enthusiastic for the rides. First, Wonwoo suggested a haunted house,
despite Seuncheol’s protests. Not knowing what to expect, Mingyu agreed with Wonwoo, making the vote two
to one in favor of going in. It was supposed to be scary, but Mingyu wasn’t entertained by it in the slightest.
Everything was tacky and poorly done in his eyes. Seungcheol, on the other hand, must have found it
horrifying. As much as he tried to convince the other two that he was fine, he would scream in fear every time
someone or something jumped out. Wonwoo didn’t seem scared at all. Instead, he laughed every time a
scream formed in Seungcheol’s mouth. He playfully comforted him, but it looked like he was having more fun
watching Seungcheol have mini heart attacks than watching the actual haunted house.

After they exited, Wonwoo suggested going in again, but when Seungcheol begged with a pout on his face for
them to try something else, he complied. They decided to ride the roller coasters instead, and Seungcheol’s
face instantly brightened up. When they go to the ride, Seungcheol and Mingyu argued over which one of
them would sit with Wonwoo, but Wonwoo forced them to sit together while he sat with a stranger. Neither
one was entirely happy with the results, but soon enough, neither came to care. The roller coaster was a ride
that Mingyu came to enjoy. So much that they rode it another four times after that. So much that now,
Mingyu was the most eager of the three. So much, that the tension between him and Seungcheol seemed to
have dissolved into nothing. Almost nothing, at least. Mingyu was still bitter that he was there in the first
place, but he got over it. The three continued to ride the rides that they came across, sometimes riding them
multiple times.

Wonwoo was a bit exhausted after the multiple rides, and decided that it was time for a food break.

“I’ll buy. What do you guys want?”

“No,” said Seungcheol. “I’ll buy. you can wait here.”

“I’m the one with a job, remember? What do you want?”

Seungcheol thought for a moment. “How about we each pay for half?”

“If that’s what you want, then sure. Mingyu?”

“I don’t know what they sell… can’t I come with you?”

Wonwoo responded, but Mingyu couldn’t hear what he said because another voice from above had covered it
up.

“Sir Mingyu!”

Mingyu recognized the voice, and when he looked up, he recognized the small stature of a demon that was
flying his way to him.
“Actually, you two can go buy food. I’ll wait here,” Mingyu told the two in front of him, still looking at the
demon in the sky.

“Is everything alright?” asked a slightly concerned Wonwoo.

“Yeah.”

Wonwoo looked and Seungcheol, then back at Mingyu. “Okay then. Try not to wander anywhere.”

Mingyu looked around to find the closest bench and sat down. Not long after, the demon from before was in
front of him.

It was Lee Jihoon, a messenger demon. He was an upper mid-ranked demon who had been a messenger for
some time now. Although he could have been ranked higher, he often got into fights with other demons,
resulting in demerits. His eyes were pink, not quite red, as he wasn’t quite an upper level demon, and his hair
was pink to match, though this was an oddity. Both his stature and size of wings were small, and like most
demons, had bat-like wings.

Mingyu leered at him for interrupting his half-date with Wonwoo. He crossed his legs and arms.

“What do you want, Jihoon?”

“I’ve brought a message from demon lord Jisoo.”

“And?”

“I spent three whole days searching for you, can’t you be a little nicer than that?” grumbled the small demon.

Jihoon was never one to keep formalities for very long. His lack of respect also cause demerits. He didn’t seem
to care much for his rank though.

Mingyu sighed. “What message do you have for me?”

“The lord has planned for population control to take place in this city. Just a warning.”

“So he’s telling me to watch my bound human. Got it.”

“Don’t want to start your punishment all over again, now do we? But…” Jihoon looked around. “I saw you with
two humans.”

“Yes?”
“So, which one of them is yours?”

“Did you get a good look at their faces?”

Jihoon nodded.

“The better looking one.”

Jihoon nodded again. “Ah…”

“Why?”

“No, it’s just… I’ve never seen such a worthy looking human. He was quite beautiful.”

Mingyu stammered slightly. “O-of course he is. I didn’t think any other demon would notice…”

“I mean, he is beautiful. What a shame he’s human.”

Mingyu sighed. “Yeah.”

Mingyu spotted the two humans making their way back with food, and both he and Jihoon perked up slightly.

“Jihoon, while you’re here in the human world, do you think you can do me a favor? I have something
important to do and I need to be alone with my human.”

“I… guess…”

“Okay, I need you to distract the other human somehow. You can be in your human form. It should make
things easier. If possible, distract him all day.”

“All day? Do I get anything in return?”

“I’ve put in a good word about you to the upper levels.”

“Deal.”

“Wait for my signal, okay? I’ll whisper something to you. Just stay close enough to hear.”

Just then, Seungcheol dropped his drink in the distance. He made a pitiful face while Wonwoo laughed gently
beside him.
“Man, is your human always that clumsy?”

“What?”

“He just dropped something.”

“That’s not my human.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You said the better looking one was your human!”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon and Mingyu looked at each other, silently judging the other. When the humans were getting near, they
broke eye contact as Mingyu hastily shooed Jihoon away, reminding him to wait in his human form for the
signal to distract Seungcheol. He made sure to tell Jihoon that Seungcheol was the one who spilled the drink.

Mingyu casually greeted them as if he was waiting alone the entire time. They were probably too busy with
their occupied hands to notice that the demon was talking to “air”, but other bystanders had noticed and kept
their distance away from him.

Wonwoo and Seungcheol sat down next to the demon, and they ate their food while talking about the haunted
house. Seungcheol didn’t actively participate in the conversation until they mentioned the viking, which is
when he took control and spoke more than the other two. They peacefully enjoyed their meal.

When they finished eating, Mingyu was the one to suggest the next ride.

“Let’s ride the ferris wheel next.”

“The line’s always so long though,” complained Seungcheol.

Mingyu was irritated at the boy who was trying to ruin his plans to confess to Wonwoo in the ferris wheel. He
waited all week for this, and he couldn’t let Seungcheol’s complaints spoil this.

“Shut up, Seulcheon, I didn’t ask you. Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo’s lower lip came out a bit and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’ll agree if you call him by his name. I
know you know it.”
Mingyu growled while he glanced at Seungcheol, then crossed his arms. He needed to get Wonwoo to the
ferris wheel, and saying a name was a small price to pay. If that was all it took, then that was fine.

“Seungcheol, I don’t particularly care if you want to ride the ferris wheel or not, so I’m not going to ask for
your opinion. Wonwoo, let’s go, I said his name.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo walked to the ferris wheel, and Seungcheol followed. He wasn’t a fan of long lines, but
he wasn’t going to get left behind.

So the three of them stood at the very back of the line. It inched forward painfully slowly, and more people
got in line behind them. It was going to be a long wait. The three talked about pointless things, mainly about
their opinions on the rides. It didn’t make the line go any faster though. When they were finally nearing the
front, with only a couple people in front of them, Mingyu discreetly whispered off to the side.

“Okay, Jihoon. Get ready. I hope you’re there.”

“About time. Do you know how bored I am?” Jihoon whispered back. “I’ve been hiding being this bush for the
longest time.”

The people in front of them got in a cabin, and the trio was to ride the next one.

When the next cabin was descending, Mingyu whispered to Jihoon. “Now, distract him now.”

Mingyu saw the small demon in human form emerge from a bush. Both his eyes and hair were darkened, but
not quite black. They were barely dark brown. Other than that and his lack of wings, the demon looked the
same as if he were a demon.

Jihoon ran from the bush straight to Seungcheol and grabbed his hand. The startled boy didn’t seem to know
how to react, so when Jihoon pulled him away, he simply let himself be pulled. Wonwoo was about to call for
him, but Mingyu grabbed his hand and pulled him to the cabin, which now had open doors and was waiting for
the next guests in line to enter. Wonwoo couldn’t resist Mingyu’s strength, so the two of them made it in
quickly. When the door closed Wonwoo looked at it as if he wanted to leave.

“Why did you pull me in like that? Some stranger took Seungcheol away!”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, he could be lured somewhere to be kidnapped or something!”

“I know the guy. It’s fine.”

Wonwoo blinked at him. “Oh, really? But… why did he do that?”

“He has his reasons.”

“And you’re not planning to tell me those reasons.”

“No.”

Wonwoo leaned back and sighed. “Then it’s just you and me for the next fifteen minutes.”

“I’m okay with that. It means this can finally feel like a date.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but closed it and looked out the window, resting his elbow on the edge.
Mingyu could swear the boy’s cheeks were slightly flushed, but it could have been his imagination. Either way,
it made the demon self-conscious of himself. He straightened his back and placed his hands on his knees.

The main point of this was to confess to Wonwoo at the top. There was approximately seven minutes until
then. Within those seven minutes, the demon had planned to have small talk with the human, but now that
they were there, he couldn’t think of anything to say. The first five minutes ended with silence, but after that it
was thankfully broken by Wonwoo.

“I never thanked you for the other day.”

The demon wasn’t expecting the sudden invitation for conversation, so he was a little slow in registering the
boy’s words.

“Hmm?”

“You know… when I was sick…”

“Ah…”

“So yeah, thanks.”

The demon cleared his throat. He looked up at the ceiling to think of a response.

“Y-you’re the only one I would do that for…”

“Because you don’t want me to die?”

“Because I love you.”

This time, Wonwoo definitely turned slightly red. He looked down and played with his fingers. “Again,” he
mumbled. “You keep saying that so easily. Do you know how heavy of words those are to humans?”

Mingyu was cursing at himself for having ruined his own plans. They weren’t quite at the top, but he already
confessed again. Since he already blurted it out, he decided to continue.

“I love you. Don’t say anything and just listen. I love you and I mean it. Don’t think I’m just throwing words at
you. I think about you all the time, and you make my heart beat like it’s trying to tell me something. I… I think
I would get sick if you were away from me for too long, but I also feel sick when I’m with you. No, not sick…
Like I’m under a spell. A spell that makes me entranced by you. I want to see you smile for me. I want you to
be mine. Our souls are already bound, but your heart doesn’t belong to me, and that… that troubles me...”

The demon felt out of breath as he finished the last sentence. Confessing was exhausting, and his heart rate
wasn’t helping him catch his breath. He realized he was looking at his hands the entire time, so he looked up
to see how Wonwoo had reacted.

He was still red, but he was looking at Mingyu. He seemed embarrassed, but also sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry for not treating your feelings seriously. And... I’m sorry you love me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t deserve anyone’s love. I don’t know what you saw in me that you feel this way about me, but I’m not
someone who should be loved.”

“But why?”

The boy looked out the window.

“I’m just not a good person. God warned me to stay away from people a long time ago.”

“God? I know about you humans and religion and all, but God doesn’t exist. I don’t know what you’re trying to
say.”

Wonwoo smiled sadly. “It’s nothing. Nevermind.”

The boy looked out the window. “What a beautiful view, right?”
Mingyu didn’t look out. He kept watching Wonwoo, but the boy didn’t seem to notice. There was a tight
squeeze in the demon’s chest, and his heart started to throb painfully. He kept looking and the beautiful boy
who wouldn’t give Mingyu a place in his heart.

“Yeah... so beautiful it hurts.”

They rode the ferris wheel in silence the rest of the time. The awkward air was no longer there, but the silence
was painful in a different way.

12
It was almost noon and Wonwoo still hadn’t woken up. Mingyu watched the clock as it ticked away, and kept
alert for any signs that the boy would wake up soon. When he didn't, the demon was worried that what he
said yesterday triggered unpleasant memories within Wonwoo, and he might get sick again somehow. The boy
was resting for an awfully long time, and it didn't seem to be a good sign. Mingyu didn’t want Wonwoo to get
sick again, and he especially didn’t want to be the cause of it.

Giving up waiting for Wonwoo to wake up, he let the boy rest, being careful about not making any loud
noises. It wasn't hard when there was nothing to do, but the problem was, that there was nothing to do. He
wanted to do something to kill the time, but he was afraid he would get too loud if he watched TV. He turned
it on anyways, needing to do something to occupy himself, but switched it to some boring news channel in
order to prevent himself from laughing. It was better than doing absolutely nothing in silence. He made sure
to keep the volume as low as possible. He could hear it well enough anyways.

Not even fifteen minutes had passed, and he was already bored out of his mind. He would have taken a nap,
but he was wide awake. He didn't think anything would heal his boredom. Thankfully, he got a call from
Hansol, and that would occupy him for the time being.

The phone rang, and the demon picked it up before the first ring was even over. He still didn’t want to make
unnecessary noises, after all.

“Hello?”

“Happy Birthday, Mingyu!”

Mingyu was confused at first, because he had forgotten all about the silly day that humans celebrated for their
own self-esteem.

“What? Was that today?”

“Yes it was today, how could you forget? Do you really not celebrate birthdays in the demon world?”

“Why should we? Do you know how many years we live? There’s no need to celebrate every passing one.”
“Well, anyways, you promised to celebrate it with me, so I hope you’re not doing anything today.”

Mingyu thought about Wonwoo, and how he just wanted him to rest today. Maybe it would be best if the
demon left the house.”

“I’m not. What do you have planned?”

“Great! I’m already at the meeting place. I’ll send you the address now.”

“Where is it?”

“Actually it’s a little ways away, but it shouldn’t take longer than 30 minutes by subway.”

“That far? Why did you only call me now, then? We could have went together.”

“Uh… because… no reason! Just come as soon as possible, okay?”

“Very well.”

“Did you get the address?”

Mingyu pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the message he received. He pulled up the address on a
map. It was a little far. What was Hansol doing there?

“I got it.”

“Have you eaten anything yet?”

The question reminded Mingyu of his empty stomach. He place a hand on it, wishing it had food in it.

“No... why?”

“Great! Just come over as soon as possible, okay? Then I’ll see you-”

Mingyu could hear the crash as the phone fell onto some hard surface. He also heard strange noises, and
people’s voices. It sounded like… something was crashing? He thought he heard Hansol shout, but the noise
was slightly muffled.

“Hansol? Hansol, what is it?”

Then, a loud noise before the call got disconnected. Was it... an explosion? He couldn't tell. Mingyu felt a panic
start to rise in his throat from the uncertainty. What just happened? Something didn't feel quite right. He felt
the ground sway beneath his feet. Or was he just dizzy? He was extremely disturbed by the way the call
ended.

He dialed Hansol’s number and waited for him to pick up. When he didn’t, the demon called again. He started
pacing back and forth in Wonwoo’s living room from the anxiety building up. His chest was tight with worry.
He sat down on the couch to calm down, but then stood back up. Sitting made him more anxious. As the dial
tone kept ringing, Mingyu kept biting his lip. Every time the automated message played, he immediately ended
the call to redial it. Hansol finally picked up after the seventh time he called.

“Hansol?”

“Sorry… I think... I’m going to have to cancel our plans,” the boy said softly with breathy words.

“Hansol, what happened?”

The boy laughed weakly.

“Who would have thought?”

“What?”

“Something like this would happen… today of all days…”

"What happened? Tell me, Hansol, what happened?"

Mingyu’s ears picked up something he didn’t like. The TV was still on, and the news was still playing. It gave
him news he didn’t want to hear.

“We interrupt the program with some breaking news, earlier today, there was a large scale earthquake , and it
seems to have caused some major damage…”

Mingyu felt a sudden drop in his chest. Whatever empty space was left behind was filled with dread and
horror. His eyes were wide with realization.

No, no, no, don’t tell me

He looked at the TV screen, watching videos of collapsed buildings and still bodies. He read the name of the
location listed on the banner. It was too familiar of a name, and he knew he read it somewhere recently. He
swallowed, despite the lump forming in his throat. He then slowly pulled his phone from his ear and went back
to his messages. He read the address that Hansol sent him just before.
It was the same district. The earthquake happened in the same district he was supposed to meet Hansol.

Mingyu was out the door before he could even think. He held the phone to his ear to try to get Hansol to
speak.

“Hansol! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I might... not be completely okay,” he responded, his voice shaking at the end. He tried to sound cheerful. He
coughed a few times. “Mingyu, I’m sorry...I don’t know... if I’m going to make it.”

Mingyu quickly spread his wings to propel himself into the air. It was the fastest way to get there. He knew
which direction he was supposed to be headed, and he worked his wings as hard as he could. The rush of
adrenaline helped him pump his wings faster than he thought was possible.

“Hansol, hang in there!”

“Before it’s too late... I just want to thank you…”

“You’re going to be fine!”

“For being... a real friend to me.”

“Hansol! Save your breath, I can help you!”

The boy coughed. “Nah, it’s probably too late. Just… just hear me out, okay?”

“Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier... than the time I spent with you.” He paused, catching his breath. “It’s
been real fun... even though it was really... short.”

“Hansol…”

The boy coughed again. “I love you, man... Not in the way that you love that human... but the way friends...
should love each other.” He paused again, taking an even longer break than the last time. Mingyu could hear
him shudder. “The way family loves each other. And... I bet you’re way older than I am, but... you’re like...
the younger brother I never had, you know?”

Mingyu was near. He recognized where he was based on the map he studied earlier, but he couldn’t pinpoint
Hansol’s exact location. He scanned the area. There was smoke and crumbled buildings everywhere. But
where was Hansol?
“Hansol, where are you?”

“Funny how fate works, huh? As soon as… life gets going for you… it’s over before you know it…”

“I can help you! Just tell me where you are!”

“I hope your love goes well…”

“Hansol!”

“Sorry I ruined your birthday…”

“HANSOL!”

When he no longer heard any responses, he started screaming even harder into the phone while still searching
from the skies. He knew he was in the right area, but where exactly were they supposed to meet?

He kept screaming Hansol’s name, over and over, hoping for a response. If he fell unconscious, hopefully his
screams would wake him up. He had to know where he was if he was going to save him. The silence from the
other end was agitating. He didn’t know what he was doing, and the ever growing feeling of dread made him
start to tremble inside. He was having trouble keeping the phone to his ear because it was shaking so hard.

He wanted so much for Hansol to be okay. He feared so much that he wasn’t.

He looked at the chaos beneath him. It was desolate. People and buildings were collapsed, and there were
others who were running around. Bright lights flashed from police cars and ambulances, and people were
yelling in panic. He could hear wails from a child in the distance. It was too devastating. Any other day,
Mingyu wouldn’t have been phased, but it was different when Hansol was possibly in that mess.

The demon yelled into the phone once again, and like the other times, Hansol didn’t respond. However, he
could hear his own voice reverberating from somewhere in the rubble below. Mingyu could barely hear it
because of the other commotion, but he could hear it. It meant that he was hearing himself from Hansol’s
phone. He swooped down to the ground, being careful with his landing. About half of the buildings around
were still intact. Mingyu swallowed. Which one was Hansol in?

He suddenly felt like he no longer had a voice. The fear had taken over his body, and he was frozen, yet
shaking violently at the same time. But he had to find out. The other noises started to drown out, and he
focused on the one sound he was searching for. He brought the phone to his mouth.

“Hansol?”

“Hansol?”
Mingyu heard the voice behind him. Slowly, he turned around, desperately wishing Hansol was behind him,
smiling cheerfully, and nothing was wrong. It was all just a prank. His heart was beating harshly, telling him
not to do it. Telling him to just go back home. He thought his heart was going to bruise his chest from how
hard it was beating. Still, his chest was hurting more from something else. From trepidation. When he fully
turned around, his heart almost stopped. It was a collapsed building. The sound had come from a collapsed
building. He spoke into the phone one more time to make sure.

“H-hansol?”

“H-hansol?”

There was no doubt. It was where the sound came from. He walked up the the mess of a building and started
removing the rubble, piece by piece, throwing it off to the side. He kept telling himself that Hansol was still
okay. He was just trapped in the pile. He just couldn’t speak right at that moment.

But then, he lifted a piece of rubble that revealed what he dreaded. Hansol was lying there peacefully with his
eyes closed, and his skin was pale white. If it weren’t for the blood, it would look like he was resting
temporarily. If it weren’t for the scenery, it would look like he was just a sleeping angel. A beautiful, sleeping
angel.

Mingyu reached for the boy’s face, flinching at how cold it was to the touch. He was too late. If Hansol were
still breathing, he could have saved him. If only he flew here faster. If only Hansol weren’t here on this day.
He recalled the message that Jihoon brought to him just yesterday. That demon lord Jisoo was planning for
population control. Why hadn’t he remembered to warn Hansol? Why?

If only Mingyu had warned him. Then this wouldn’t have happened.

He wondered what Hansol was doing here. Why did he come here of all places? Why did he come alone?
Mingyu looked around, finally taking note of his surroundings. Something caught his eye. It was a broken,
neon sign, only part of it lit up. It flickered slightly, which was why he noticed it in the first place, it gave him
enough of a clue as to why Hansol was here. This wasn’t just some random building. It was a cake shop.
Hansol came here to buy Mingyu the ice cream cake he had promised. Hansol came here because he wanted
to celebrate Mingyu’s birthday.

Hansol came here because of him.

Mingyu found it hard to swallow. This was completely his fault. He could have easily prevented this, but he
was stupid. He was an awful friend. Why did Hansol thank him? What reason did he have for thanking him?
Mingyu was nothing but awful to him, when Hansol did so much for him. He didn’t deserve Hansol’s friendship.
He didn’t deserve it. Hansol didn’t deserve this fate.

Mingyu could feel his eyes starting to burn, and soon after, his vision was blurred. He was too grieved to care
about what was happening to him. He blinked, and his vision cleared. He felt a warm drop of something on his
hand and looked down at it. It was water. Is that what came from his eyes? Was he… crying? As he thought
this, he could feel the hot liquid streaming down his cheeks. He was crying. It was a strange sensation. He
didn’t know that demons could cry.
He wiped away the tears that he had never felt before, and then stroked Hansol’s soft hair. What poor fate he
had for ever having met the demon. All Mingyu could do now was regret. Hansol’s soul was probably collected
a long time ago, and now all that was left was an empty shell of a body, but Mingyu couldn’t find himself to
abandon it. He didn’t know what to do.

He scooped up Hansol’s empty body and started walking away, shielding the boy by casting a spell to make
them concealed to the human eye. He didn’t want anyone else to see the boy in such a state. He didn’t know
where else to go, so he walked in the direction of Hansol’s home. He felt lifeless, almost as empty as Hansol’s
body. His wings had no will to fly, and his legs barely had the will to move him forward through the chaos that
was still taking place. He ignored the screams and the smoke, the sirens and the dust. He moved slowly, but
he did move forward. Step by step, with his best friend in his arms, he moved forward. Nothing but the same
few words came out of the demon’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, Hansol… I’m so sorry…”

His words grew weaker and weaker every time they were uttered, but he kept repeating them. He couldn’t
convey the guilt enough, even though the boy wasn’t even there to hear it. His tears refused to stop, and he
didn’t fight them. Who else would cry for him if not Mingyu?

For hours, he trudged on ahead, slowly taking steps. His arms grew tired, but never tired enough to put the
boy down. He couldn’t let him down. But what was he supposed to do? He felt like a lost child, wandering
some hopeless woods, hoping for someone to come find him. He knew no one would. He brought himself
there. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

Time passed incredibly slowly. He watched at the sun and clouds shifted positions, but somehow it felt like he
was in the same place.

Finally, he was back at his district. He let his feet take him to where they pleased, because the demon’s mind
was too empty to think. They led him to a park. It was the same park where he had first met the boy. He
gently lay the boy down on the soft bed of grass.

By this time, he decided that he would burn the body. He couldn’t let anyone else touch his precious Hansol.
He couldn’t let anyone taint him with their hands. He wanted Hansol to be able to leave the world in its pure
state. Before he did that, he wanted to give him something, but he didn’t know what. He didn’t have much
around.

His cell phone was the only thing he had on him. The demon pulled it out and placed the device on Hansol’s
chest, but not before removing the bunny charm and pocketing it. Hansol was the only one he had called
anyways. What good would a phone be if he wasn’t there? The demon plucked a feather from his wing and
placed it on the boy’s chest as well. It wasn’t much, but he would be taking a part of the demon with him.
Mingyu placed a hand on his chest. It felt so empty that Hansol must have taken part of that too.

The demon backed away from the boy and cast a spell to ignite the grass around him. He watched the flames
flicker and lick the boy’s body. Despite the flames, the boy still looked so peaceful. Perhaps, the flame would
warm him up. Perhaps, he wouldn’t feel so cold anymore.
Mingyu looked at the sky, watching at the grey smoke fluttered into the air. It was so lively, just like Hansol
once was. Fitting.

The demon could feel the hot tears fill his eyes again, but he was now used to the feeling. He remembered his
phone call with Hansol just hours ago, and how the boy told him he loved him. The tears started to overflow
and roll down his cheeks. The regretful feelings were growing.

He didn’t know until now, just how much he loved Hansol too.

13
Wonwoo woke up several times throughout the night, thanks to the same recurring nightmare. It wasn’t a
violent nightmare, but it was a nightmare nonetheless. It was a memory of his childhood of the day that
changed his life forever. The day of his eighth birthday. The day he last saw his parents. When Wonwoo
opened the door expecting them with his best friend, but instead found police officers. How they calmly
relayed the news of their death. How Wonwoo thought they were liars. When he found out that they weren’t.

Wonwoo pulled the blanket away, feeling too hot to be under it. He lay there with his eyes open as they
adjusted to the darkness. He would stay awake for half an hour before trying to sleep again, only to wake up
again from the same nightmare. It had been so long since he dreamt it, but suddenly it kept coming back
multiple times in the same night.

Was it because he recalled the events earlier that day?

When Mingyu confessed to him, it was strange. It felt unreal. Though the demon confessed before, it was the
first time Wonwoo felt it. It was the first time he could feel the sincerity in his words, and it moved him just a
tiny bit. But remembering why he didn’t involve himself with people in the first place, Wonwoo couldn’t even
think about considering the confession. It wasn’t like he was going to, but he couldn’t anyways.

Because the world had its way of telling him that he wasn’t allowed to love anyone.

The first, when he was a child and lost the people he loved most. Then, when he almost lost Seungcheol. He
remembered the day he got a call. He remembered how he felt like death all over again.

It was the day he was going to confess to Seungcheol. He loved him long enough, and thought that maybe he
had a chance. They weren’t related by blood, so there was nothing wrong with it. He loved Seungcheol, and
Seungcheol loved him back. He didn’t know if it was a romantic love, or just a familial one, but he loved
Wonwoo, and that gave him enough courage to want to confess. He chose some arbitrary day to do it. It was
going to be a Friday after he got off from work. They were going to eat meat for no reason. Just celebrating
life.

Oh, how ironic that was.

He remembered working his usual boring hours at work, when he got a message from his team leader. He
remembered his team leader with a troubled expression, telling him to brace himself. He remembered hearing
the words, “Your brother got in an accident,” and no longer being able to hear anything after that. He
remembered falling to the floor, too weak to stand, losing the will to do anything. He remembered dreading
that it was a repeat of what happened so long ago.

It wasn’t until he was shaken by the shoulder that he started listening again. He heard the words, “He’s still
alive,” and suddenly finding himself praying, even though he wasn’t religious.

This team leader gave him the day off, and Wonwoo rushed to the hospital. After frantically asking the
receptionist where he was, and running down the halls despite being reprimanded for it, he found the
operation room his beloved brother was in. The red light was still on, and all Wonwoo could do was wait.

He sat down on the bench, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees lacing his fingers together.
His leg kept vigorously bouncing up and down as he waited for the news. He hoped for good news, but
expected the bad. He didn’t know what he would do if Seungcheol was taken from him too.

If Seungcheol was taken from him, he would no longer have anyone else.

Every tick of the clock seemed to take longer to come. He perked up every time he heard a door open, but it
was never the door he was waiting for. He watched as people walked by with their feet shuffling against the
tile. The light above him flickered, faltering like Wonwoo’s heart. If he heard bad news, he couldn’t imagine
being able to live any longer. He would want to go with Seungcheol, wherever he was going.

Even if it was to the depths of hell.

There was a loud click from above, and Wonwoo looked up expectantly. He saw that the operating light was
switched off, and quickly stood up. The doors opened, and out came a physician. He looked at Wonwoo.

“Are you here for Choi Seungcheol?”

“Yes! I’m family. How is he?”

The physician took a breath, and Wonwoo’s heart started to ache from anticipation.

“He’s alive.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened, and he placed a relieved hand on his chest.

“But he’s not out of the woods yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s currently in a comatose state. Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell for how long he will be like that. For now,
he’s safe, but he could very well fall into the danger zone tomorrow.”

There were mixed emotions fighting inside Wonwoo. He was relieved, scared, hopeful, desperate, and guilty.
So very guilty. He couldn’t help but think it was because he decided to love someone. Because he decided he
at least deserved that. But he was wrong. He found that out today.

Wonwoo sighed. He remembered the feelings of guilt so clearly. When Mingyu confessed, it must have
triggered it all to come back. He tried to sleep again, hoping to have normal dreams this time. He wanted to
forget everything. Forget his feelings of love. Forget the feeling of being loved. It was too much. He curled
into a ball under the covers and closed his eyes.

Just forget everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Wonwoo woke up next, it was morning. Or, at least the sun was up. It was actually much later than he
thought, and it was sometime in the afternoon. He surprised himself by being able to sleep for so long. He
was surprised nothing woke him up. Or no one woke him up. When he left his room to go to the kitchen, he
realized why. No one was home besides him.

He had gotten used to having company, so the house felt eerily vacant without anyone else there. Even after
all those years of living by himself, it was strange being alone again. He found the TV on as he approached
the living room, but no one there to watch it. The volume was turned low, but the murmuring of the
newscasters bounced off the walls. He turned it off. As the silence welcomed him, every sound he made
seemed to be amplified, emphasizing the emptiness. The clatter of dishes seemed so loud as he made himself
breakfast. Breakfast for one. As he ate, he let random thoughts float into his head.

What was Mingyu doing? Why was he not there?

Wonwoo blinked, pausing his chewing. Why did he care? The demon could do whatever he wanted. There was
no reason for him to tell Wonwoo of his plans... But he wasn't used to not having the demon by his side, as
annoying as he may have gotten. He continued chewing.

When was the last time he had been alone like this? When he thought about it, it wasn't actually that long
ago, but it felt like he always had company. He had gotten used to it to the point where it was uncomfortable
being alone. He paused again.

But whose company did he want right now?

Wonwoo swallowed. He thought back to his dreams last night, and then Seungcheol. He remembered how
devastated he was three years ago when his one love was almost taken from him. He vividly remembered all
of his feelings, but thinking back on it now, something was off. What was it? Something wasn't lining up. The
feelings he was having now, versus the feelings he had then… Something was different. Something…
something… but what?
He thought about what triggered the memories in the first place. Mingyu told Wonwoo he loved him. It made
him recall his painful past, so he couldn't accept the confession. Besides that, there was another reason why
he couldn't accept it. It was because he was in love with Seungcheol.

Wonwoo was in love with Seungcheol.

He was in love with Seungcheol.

He was in love...

He... was…

Wonwoo stopped eating entirely. He was in love with Seungcheol. He was. But now… why wasn't he feeling
the same way now? Why... Were his feelings for Seungcheol not there? Why? He loved him for so long? What
happened?

It couldn't be... Mingyu?

No, no, no, he was definitely not in love with some childish demon from the underworld. He was sure about
that. But, he didn't hate him. That he was also sure about. Then where did his feelings for Mingyu lie in this
emotional spectrum? He was annoyed at him for suddenly invading his life, but he was thankful for his
thoughtfulness. He wouldn't call them friends. They were just... beings that were bound by something a little
more than chance. At first they met because of Wonwoo’s desperation to bring Seungcheol back. Because he
was so desperate that he decided to take take someone's word on the Internet on how to summon a demon...
but now... what exactly was their relationship?

He was suddenly frustrated by his confusion. Why did he think strange things when he was alone? All he had
to do was go out for some fresh air, or read a book, or... Hang out with Seungcheol.

That's what he should do. He needed to meet Seungcheol to confirm his feelings, or lack of, before he decided
to confirm anything crazy. That should have been the first thing he thought of. He dialed Seungcheol’s
number, which was on speed dial, and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Cheol, keep me company for today, hmm?”

“Today? Oh... uh… today?”

“What's wrong? You're always free nowadays. Unless… did you find a job?”

“No, uh, that's not it...”

“Then?”

“Uh…”

“Yes?”

“Well, you know how that happened yesterday?”

“That.”

“You know, where that cute kid dragged me away from you?”

Wonwoo remembered. The small child that was apparently associated with Mingyu in some way. The small
child who showed up out of nowhere to took Seungcheol away.

“I remember.”

“Yeah, well it’s turned out he wasn’t a kid, so thankfully, I wasn’t a pedo- I mean, yeah, you know who I’m
talking about.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brows, but Seungcheol couldn’t see it.

“What about him?”

“No, it's just that... How do I say this… we have… a… meeting today?”

“A meeting? You mean… a date.”

“No, not a date! Just a... I mean... yeah… I guess”

“That's great, congratulations.”

“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I'm fine. Have fun. Really. I'm happy for you.”

He ended the call right then. He found himself slightly irritated after hearing about Seungcheol’s date, but it
wasn't because of the fact that he was going on a date. It was because of the fact that Wonwoo didn't find
himself getting jealous. It was because it made him realize for sure, that he fell out of love with Seungcheol
somewhere along the way of this mess. He was mad at himself, for dropping his love so easily, after all these
years of loving him. He didn’t have to see him to know his feelings. He knew well enough.

He laughed at himself. The other day, he lectured Mingyu when he told him he loved him so easily, but
Wonwoo was the one taking love too lightly. He was such a hypocrite.

Just what was it that Mingyu saw in him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late, and there was still no sign of Mingyu. Wonwoo had gone through his day, relaxing in his home,
but expected the demon to show up at some time. But he didn’t. Not until long after the sun was down. He
heard a weak knock on the door, and somehow he knew it was Mingyu. He opened the door expecting the
usual Mingyu, not the sad sight that was now in front of him.

It was definitely Mingyu, but at the same time it wasn’t like him at all. The proud shoulders he usually had
were drooped, and his wings weren’t even folded up. They were dragging across the floor, having gathered
dirt and dust. His eyes were abnormally red because they were bloodshot. It looked like he didn’t have the will
to live. Somehow, he reminded Wonwoo of himself all those years ago.

Wonwoo made way for Mingyu to come in, but it took the demon a few seconds to register that he had done
so. Why was Mingyu like this? What happened?

He waited until the demon entered the house and settled down on the couch before closing the door to follow
him. He felt the need to be extremely cautious, so he kept a bit of a distance.

“M-mingyu?”

The demon didn’t respond. Instead he pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like a phone strap,
judging by the string looping out of it. Mingyu was holding it tightly, so Wonwoo couldn’t see it very well. He
was rubbing it with his thumb, and all Wonwoo could see was that it was white.

“What’s that?”

Mingyu slowly unwrapped his fingers from the object, revealing a small bunny. He looked at it grievously.

“It’s… T-tosun…”

“Tosun?”

The demon’s fingers wrapped around it once again, and he clasped his hands together, gripping so strongly
onto the delicate bunny, as if it would escape if he held onto it any looser. His head hung low, and Wonwoo
saw a tear drip down. He could feel his heart tugging because of the broken demon. It hurt to see Mingyu in
so much pain. Wonwoo slowly walked closer to him and reached to pat his shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?”

“...”

Wonwoo started rubbing the demon’s shoulder gently.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to. Just… know that I’m here, okay?”

The demon sighed.

“It’s all my fault.”

“Hmm?”

“Everything… is my fault…”

Wonwoo sat down next to the demon, bringing his hand to his lower back, still rubbing. It was a bit difficult
with the wings in the way, but it didn’t stop him. His eyebrows knit together from worry.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure that’s not true. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“It is my fault. It’s all my fault. I killed him. It was my fault.”

Wonwoo tensed at the words. What exactly did he mean? Who was killed? Why? He could already tell that this
was much more serious than he initially thought it would be, and he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to dig into
it. However, curiosity got the best of him.

“Mingyu… what happened?”

“I killed him... I killed him…”

“Mingyu.”

“It’s my fault... I’m so sorry…”

Wonwoo draped his arms around Mingyu and pulled him in for a tight embrace. The demon stopped muttering
and buried his head in Wonwoo’s chest, crying silently. Whatever it was that happened, Mingyu wasn’t
mentally well, and he needed someone’s support. Wonwoo wasn’t going to just leave him alone until he was
stable again. He stroked the demon’s head in a comforting manner, lacing his fingers through the locks of hair.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he held the demon tighter.
The two stayed in this position for a long time. Mingyu calmed down and pulled himself away. Wonwoo
wanted to know what it was that made the demon like this, but he wasn’t going to push him for answers. If
Mingyu didn’t want to discuss it, he would drop the topic. But he at least wanted to ask one more time.

“Mingyu… do you mind telling me what happened?”

The demon looked at him sadly, then back down at the bunny phone charm.

“Hansol,” he said.

“Hansol? I thought you said it was Tosun?”

“Hansol was the name of the human who gave me this…”

Human? Mingyu was crying over a human?

“So this Hansol… he is…”

“My best friend. He was my best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed. Something about this was uncomfortably familiar. He adjusted his position slightly.

“He… was?”

“He was… but now he’s gone… I’ve killed him.”

The words were alarmingly disturbing, but Wonwoo decided to ignore the feeling. By now, he had to know.

“Tell me… Tell me about Hansol.”

The demon squeezed the phone charm once again. He sighed before proceeding to tell him the story of how
they had met. How Hansol taught him about the human world, and how he wasn’t afraid of Mingyu in the
slightest. He told him how Hansol gave him constant advice, and comforted him when he was down. He told
him how Hansol was always there for him when he needed him. He told him how Hansol was always grateful
to have Mingyu around, when it was Mingyu who should have been grateful for him.

Wonwoo listened, not once interrupting. He let Mingyu take pauses when he needed to, and didn’t rush him
when he started getting choked up. Then, Mingyu told him about what happened earlier that day.

“He wanted to celebrate my birthday.”

Wonwoo’s finger twitched. He was never fond of birthdays, but no one could blame him after what happened
on his. He stayed silent, waiting for Mingyu to continue.

“He was waiting for me when an earthquake came. A building collapsed on him.”

Wonwoo started feeling himself getting cold. He had nightmares last night, reliving his traumatic past, but at
this moment, he felt the trauma more intensely. It was a distressing feeling of deja vu.

“I couldn’t save him.”

Taking deep breaths, Wonwoo calmed himself down. He breathed in, then breathed out. He closed his eyes
and took another breath.

Mingyu was finished with his story, and Wonwoo finally spoke.

“I… I know how you feel, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.”

“No one can predict an earthquake, Mingyu. You can’t convince yourself that this was your fault.”

“But it was.”

“No, Mingyu.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Mingyu! It wasn’t your fault!”

Mingyu chuckled bitterly. He stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, but I don’t want to hear that from you.”

Wonwoo stood up as well, irked at the sudden change in attitude.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you trying to convince me that this isn’t my fault? You of all people? You!”

“What about me?”

The demon chuckled again, but his expression was angry.

“Don’t try to tell I didn’t kill Hansol. I know what I did. But you... don’t tell me it’s not my fault when you are
so thoroughly convinced that you caused the death of your best friend.

Wonwoo froze. He suddenly realized that Mingyu was referring to his past, but how did he know? When did he
find out? How long has he been hiding this? He wasn’t supposed to know. No one was. But he did. Wonwoo
felt hot rage and confusion build up inside him. He stepped back, furious. He never intended for anyone to
find out about it.

“How the HELL do you know that? I don’t remember telling you, and I sure as HELL didn’t give you permission
to check up on my past like that!”

This time, it was Mingyu’s turn to freeze. From the heat of the moment, he blurted out something he didn’t
mean to, but it was too late. The words were out in the open. He seemed perplexed for a moment, trying to
figure out a way to justify himself.

“Wait, no, that’s not-”

“No! Don’t give me your excuses! You can’t just dig into my privacy like that! What made you think that would
be okay?”

“Let me explain-”

“You know what? Who even gave you permission to invade my life in the first place, huh? Who gave you the
right to just waltz into my life like you did? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”

Wonwoo couldn’t control his words anymore. The anger was taking over his mind and body. He knew he
shouldn’t have been getting angry, but he couldn’t stop it from coming. His mouth wasn’t communicating with
his mind.

“Wonwoo, wait-”

“No! Get out! I’m SICK and TIRED of you, Mingyu! You turned my life upside down for NO good reason. I
never asked for this! All I wanted was to bring Seungcheol back. I didn’t want YOU in my life! Just do me a
favor and leave.”

“Wonwoo-”

“LEAVE, NOW! And DON’T come back!”

Wonwoo pointed angrily at the door, to emphasize that he wanted Mingyu gone. He was out of breath from
shouting, and his eyes were wide with rage. He glared at Mingyu, who looked too shocked to respond.
Wonwoo didn’t move from his spot.

Mingyu did.

He slowly made his way to the door, but before opening it, he said his last words to Wonwoo. “I’m sorry I
ruined your life too…”

He left, not once looking back at Wonwoo. When the door clicked closed, the tension that built up inside
Wonwoo’s body was released. He crumbled to the floor, regretting what he had done.

He didn’t fully mean the words he said, but he was just so angry that the demon somehow found out about
his childhood nightmares. The history that was too painful to share. He clamped his hand in his hair, because
that wasn’t the only reason he regretted it. The demon had just lost a friend… He was probably in a much
worse state of mind than Wonwoo was… but Wonwoo had to go ahead and kick him out anyways. Because
Wonwoo was an awful person who couldn’t let go of his past. Because he was an awful person who decided to
hurt the demon when he was already hurting.

All because he couldn’t let go.

Wonwoo looked out the window. He could see the silver moonlight peeking through the dark curtain of the
night sky. He thought about how he suffered all this time, and that nothing would change the past. It didn’t
matter what Wonwoo felt. What happened then was out of his control, even if he tried to persuade himself
otherwise. Mingyu was right that Wonwoo was being a hypocrite. Wonwoo wholeheartedly believed that the
demon was not at fault, but for some reason, he was never able to give himself the same comforting words
for his own circumstances. Truthfully, he knew deep down that it was all just an unfortunate accident. Just
really bad timing. He always blamed himself for it, but doing so wouldn’t ever bring them back, even if it was
true. The crescent shaped of the moon became distorted as tears began to fill his eyes.

14
Wonwoo got very little sleep that night, but it didn’t have to do with nightmares. He had to do a lot of thinking
after his argument with Mingyu. Once the demon left, Wonwoo dragged himself to his bedroom but didn’t lie
down to sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed, just thinking. Thinking about what he just experienced, and how
he felt about it. There was no doubt that the guilt from his childhood affected him even to this day. He knew
that it was the reason he seldom reached out for people. It was the reason he always chose to always be
alone, despite the fact that he hated being by himself. It was the reason he never relied on other people if he
could help it.

That night, when he saw the very shaken demon, he realized that he was seeing himself when he was a child.
Through some unfortunate coincidence, the demon suffered the exact same fate he had, but that also allowed
Wonwoo to see the situation from a different view. It was the one good thing that could have possibly come
out of such a tragedy. He was able to see that no one would have put any of the blame of the accident on
Wonwoo. And in fact, no one ever did, and it took him much too long to have realized it.
But the important thing was that he realized it.

As he was having his late night thoughts, he stayed awake, hoping that Mingyu would come back so he could
apologize. He stayed seated where he was, staring at the wall, tapping his fingers on his leg out of impatience.
Even though he didn’t expect the demon to come back that night, he waited. He waited until his heavy eyelids
couldn’t keep themselves open, and some time after 4 am, he was fast asleep.

Unfortunately, he had to wake up soon after in order to get to work on time. While he was working, he
couldn’t focus because of his lack of sleep and his nagging worry for Mingyu. The day went by so slowly he
thought it would never end. It almost surprised him that it did. When he went home, he half-expected to see a
stubborn demon waiting on his doorstep, but he saw no such sight. He thought that maybe the demon needed
some time before he came back, so he waited.

But Mingyu never returned.

Not the next day.

Not ever.

The first night he was alone, Wonwoo just told himself that Mingyu was still mad at him. He would come back
eventually when he calmed down. He was still worried, but he brushed off the feeling.

The third night, he wondered if the demon found another human to stay with. He wondered if the demon
didn’t want to see Wonwoo anymore.

The fifth night, he wondered if there was a reason to think Mingyu wasn’t okay, and that something might
have happened to him.. Anxiety started to bubble inside him, and he prayed to the god he didn’t believe in to
ask that Mingyu be safe. Wonwoo skipped work that day.

The seventh night, he started leaving the door unlocked, in case the demon wanted to come in, but somehow
couldn’t. He found a fallen feather of Mingyu’s in his living room, and placed it on his bedside table, as if trying
to convince himself that as long as the feather was okay, so was the demon.

The ninth night, he called Seungcheol to ask if he had seen him, and when Seungcheol said he hadn’t,
Wonwoo couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t able to brush off the worry anymore.

The eleventh night, he had a sip of alcohol, despite the fact that he never once tried it due to his hatred for
how it took away his family. After being disgusted by the taste, he stopped drinking.

The thirteenth night, he drank two whole bottles of soju.

The fifteenth night, Seungcheol had to drag Wonwoo out of his house after he was cooped up in there for so
long, waiting. He resisted, but Seungcheol was triumphant in getting him out for a breather. It helped him
clear his thoughts a bit.
By the seventeenth night, Wonwoo acknowledged the fact that Mingyu wasn’t ever going to return. His heart
turned heavy, but he fully accepted its weight.

The demon wasn’t coming back, and Wonwoo was going to have to move on.

It was this night that Wonwoo had another round of deep thoughts. With Mingyu not coming back, there was
not much he could do. He realized he had no way of contacting him, and the demon showed no signs of
returning. If he didn’t see Mingyu again, he had no way of apologizing for what he did, but he couldn’t keep
ahold of this guilt forever. Guilt was what obstructed him from enjoying his life until now, and he wasn’t going
to continue to have it be that way. If Mingyu wasn’t going to come back, he would have to apologize in a
different manner than just saying the words to his face. If he couldn’t see him again, the best way to
apologize was for him to change.

Wonwoo picked up the feather that was residing on his bedside table. He brought it close to his face and
turned it around, carefully observing it. It was a beautifully glossy, pitch-black feather, extremely soft to the
touch. For having such a firm personality, the demon carried such beautiful and delicate feathers. It was a
wonder Wonwoo never noticed until now, even though he had spent so much time with him. He smiled sadly
at the feather.

“Hey Mingyu, I’m sorry I won’t be able to say this to your face, but I’m sorry for everything. You were right,
and I was wrong. Very wrong... “

He stroked the feather lightly.

“I wonder what you would say to that.”

He lifted it up and watched at the light shone through the fine gaps of the feather’s combs.

“I guess I will never know, huh?”

He set the feather back down.

“Goodnight, Mingyu. Wherever you are.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four months later

“Intern Lee Chan!”

“Yes, team leader Jeon?”

A bright, young male stood up from his desk eagerly when he was called. He looked at Wonwoo with
expectancy, his eyes wide, and a smile on his face.

Wonwoo smiled gently as he lifted a folder from his desk.

“Bring me two copies of this, will you?”

“Yes, sir!”

The boy bowed as he took the file with both hands and cheerfully walked toward the copy room. Right before
he disappeared from Wonwoo’s view, he turned around and playfully winked and shrugged his shoulders
before sprinting off.

Wonwoo chuckled softly to himself.

“What a cute kid.”

He returned to the computer in front of him, but his attention was soon turned to a man who entered the
room. when he recognized the man’s face, he stood up quickly and bowed. He looked up again to see the man
smiling fondly at him.

“Director Park, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry Jeon, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to invite you for a company dinner. I heard you’ve been
attending them recently.”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, but I’m going to have to decline your generous offer. I have plans to meet with an
important person tonight.”

The director flashed a fatherly smile.

“Oh, is that so? Well, there’s always next time. Keep up the good work, Jeon. We are really lucky to have
you.”

“Your words are too kind, sir.”

Wonwoo bowed politely as the man walked out, then returned to working. He looked at his watch, counting
the hours he had until work was over.

He sighed as he pulled out his wallet. He opened it and took out a familiar black feather, now thoroughly worn
down, but still as lustrous as ever.
“You see that, Mingyu? He praised me. After all this time I’ve worked here, he finally praised me. How’s that?
Have I changed enough for you to forgive me?”

He twirled the feather around as a small frown formed on his face.

“Have I changed enough for you to come back?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonwoo looked around the street, trying to locate the restaurant they were supposed to meet in. With his suit
jacket slung around his arm, and his tie loosened, he walked down the road. He thought about changing, but
it was a bit of a special occasion, so he didn’t.

He looked down at his phone to see his location app, which indicated he was in the right area. He looked at
the bright signs protruding from the building's walls, and finally spotted the restaurant he was looking for. It
had the smallest and dullest sign, but it was supposedly a nice place to dine.

He walked in, looking for the man he was supposed to meet, but a voice found him first.

“Wonwoo! Over here!”

Wonwoo snapped his head in the direction of the voice and smiled, walking over to the table and sitting down.
Once seated, he grabbed a small box out of his pant pocket and placed it down on the table in front of the
man.

“Happy birthday, Cheol,” he said affectionately.

Seungcheol looked at him with gratitude.

“Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it... Not just the gift, I mean.”

Wonwoo understood. It was the first time he agreed to celebrate Seungcheol’s birthday with him. Before, he
didn’t just ignore his own birthday, but he ignored everyone else’s as well. He pretended like they didn’t exist,
since he never found a reason to be happy about being born. Now, with his past behind him, he was more
open to doing a lot of things, and celebrating such occasion was one of them.

“I know. Sorry you’ve waited so long for this.”

“No, no you had your reasons. All that matters is that we’re here now, right?”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“But still, I can’t believe you actually accepted my invitation. I almost wasn’t going to ask. Do you know how
surprised I was?”

Wonwoo laughed.

“I can imagine.”

Seungcheol picked up the box.

“Can I?”

Wonwoo nodded.

“It’s all yours.”

He carefully opened the box, revealing a shining, thick-banded silver ring. He immediately tried it on his right
index finger, but when it didn’t fit, he tried his other fingers until he found that it was a perfect match for his
pinky. A large smile formed on his face as he looked at the ring on his finger.

“Thanks, Wonwoo. I really like it.”

Wonwoo reached over and held out his hand.

“Oh, sorry, I got the wrong size. I guess it wasn’t a good idea to use my own fingers as reference… here, give
it back. I’ll get you a new one.”

Seungcheol clasped his left hand over the ring and brought it close to his chest.

“No, I want this one! It’s the one you chose out for me.”

After some consideration, Wonwoo retracted his hand back. If Seungcheol liked it, it was all that mattered.

“If you say so.”

There was a pause. Seungcheol looked around before speaking.

“Say... Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“You know… um… Mingyu?”

Wonwoo slammed his hands on the table, and his eyes widened as he leaned towards Seungcheol.

“Do you know where he is?” he almost shouted.

Seungcheol leaned back from surprise. He looked around again to see if anyone was disturbed by Wonwoo’s
sudden loudness, but no one seemed to notice. He looked back at Wonwoo.

“No, that’s not it… sorry”

Wonwoo sighed, letting his hands drop from the table. He sat straight up again, relaxing his shoulders that
tensed just then.

“What about him?”

“Uh, well, uh…”

“Hmmm?”

“You know… Jihoon?”

Jihoon, the small boy who was actually older than he was? Wonwoo knew him. Seungcheol often spoke of
him… but why was he bringing him up?

“Of course I do. Why?”

“It…” Seungcheol seemed slightly uncomfortable. He played with the straw in his drink. “It turns out he… he’s
like Mingyu.”

“He’s like Mingyu.”

“You know…”

Wonwoo squinted, trying to figure out what he meant. Seungcheol leaned toward his drink and bit his straw.

“Are you trying to say… he’s a demon?”

Seungcheol nodded, the straw still in his mouth.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Seungcheol sat back up.

“Why don’t you sound more surprised?”

“Well, I knew he was associated with Mingyu somehow, but... I just assumed he was human.”

“Oh, well… I guess nothing surprises you much anymore. But anyways, I just wanted say sorry. I was a bit
mean to Mingyu, but now that I know more about demons, I realized that… they’re not that bad.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “It’s a bit too late to apologize, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. And I know you’ve been looking for him and all, but... have you ever tried calling him?”

“I... didn’t think he had a phone?”

He recalled the Tosun, the bunny charm Mingyu was holding onto that fated night.

“No wait… I remember he had a phone charm… but there was no phone attached… Unless he did have one?”

“What? He did have a phone though. I’m sure of it. I saw him use it once... But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Ever since I found out about Jihoon, he’s told me some stuff. About demons and contracts and everything. He
told me a human in a contract can summon their bound demon.”

“WHAT?”

Seungcheol put his index finger on his lips, once again looking around to make sure they didn’t disturb other
customers.

“Shh, calm down for a second. We don’t want to get kicked out.”

“What do you mean I can summon him? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Well I found out not that long ago-”

“But how do I do it? Tell me, how do I summon him?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat.

“He said that Mingyu should have told you how to do it, but apparently it must have slipped his mind. So
basically, you have to concentrate, and if you close your eyes and put your hand over your chest, you’re
supposed to be able to feel something. I don’t know what that something is, but you have to focus on it and
then call his name. Sounds simple, right? At least, that’s what Jihoon- wait, Wonwoo, where are you going?”

Wonwoo picked up his suit jacket and placed several bills on the table.

“Sorry, Seungcheol. I have to go. Sorry I didn’t get stay with you longer but… I have to go.”

He bolted out of the restaurant and just ran. He didn’t know where he was running, but he had to go
somewhere that wasn’t so crowded. He passed the buildings with bright signs and started heading for the
darker neighborhoods. When he found a peaceful park, he slowed down. It seemed like the right place to go.
He discarded his belongings by a tree and walked to the middle of the park. He closed his eyes and put his
hands to his chest.

He didn’t feel anything.

His mind was a jumbled mess, which probably didn’t help. He let out a frustrated sigh. He was rushing this.

Take a deep breath. In, and out. Take another.

Wonwoo found himself relaxing. The noises from the streets were dying down, and his sense of touch seemed
to be amplified. He felt the slight wind barely brushing against his skin.

Concentrate, Wonwoo.

He did. He focused on nothing in particular, but he focused. He felt his heartbeat slowing down, and his
breaths becoming less sporadic.

All of a sudden, he felt it. He didn’t know how to describe the sensation except that it was similar to what he
felt when he first sealed the contract with Mingyu. It was almost like a light fire, but it was tugging somewhere
deep inside of him. His soul, perhaps. It was barely there, but at the same time its presence was firm. Before
he lost focus, he said the demon’s name in a soft voice that was almost a whisper.

“Mingyu.”

The small fire seemed to ignite into a large flame, but it didn’t burn him. There was a strong, yet gentle heat
that came from it. He slowly opened his eyes, and the wind picked up speed, rustling his hair and clothes. He
could see a glowing, golden red summoning circle in front of him. His heart beat started to accelerate, even
though it was slowing down just before. He held his breath in anticipation.

Then, the demon appeared in front of him. The demon he had been waiting for for so long. The demon he
owed so much to. The demon he needed to apologize to. He was there, in front of him, and it wasn’t a dream.
He was there, so very different than when Wonwoo last saw him. He stood tall again, the shine having
returned to his eyes, and his shoulders nice and proud. Just as Wonwoo was hoping for all this time.

The feeling was overwhelming. So much so that he started crying. The demon looked shocked and hurried to
Wonwoo’s side, trying to wipe away the tears as quickly as possible. He had an expression of worry and panic
as he tried to calm the boy down.

“W-what’s wrong, Wonwoo? Why are you crying? Who did this to you?”

Wonwoo weakly punched the demon’s chest.

“Why didn’t you come back? Why?”

Mingyu paused before he removed his hands from Wonwoo’s face and took a step back. He suddenly looked
dejected.

“You… you said you didn’t want me to come back…”

“Of all the times I told you to do something, why would you choose to listen to that?”

“I-I thought-”

“I waited so long for you! I waited and waited but you never came back!”

The demon was taken aback by the sudden yelling.

“I… I didn’t know…”

Wonwoo lowered his head to wipe away his own tears.

“Stupid demon…”

There was a moment’s pause before the demon spoke again.

“But you summoned me just now… if you wanted to see me, why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Wonwoo glared at the demon, angry at the demon’s ignorance.

“You never told me I could! I found out because of Jihoon! You should have told me about it when you made
a contract with me... ”

The demon furrowed his eyebrows.

“I never… oh…”

Wonwoo stepped forward to smack the demon’s chest again.

“Stupid demon.”

Mingyu looked closely at the boy’s face. He put his hand on Wonwoo’s chin and lifted his head, still showing
signs of concern.

“But... why are you crying?”

Wonwoo’s tears stopped immediately from the sudden shock. Mingyu had a good point. Why was he crying?
All he wanted to do was apologize to the demon, so why the tears?

He pushed the demon’s hand away and stepped back. There was no reason. He just wanted to see the demon
again, and he finally did. It was just so sudden, that…

Wait.

He wanted to see the demon again. He didn’t just want to apologize. He wanted to see Mingyu. He wanted to
see Mingyu look proud of Wonwoo for getting over his past. He wanted to show the demon that he improved
himself. He wanted to interact with the demon. It was just that he missed the demon.

That was it. He missed Mingyu.

No, that wasn’t all. He loved Mingyu. Of course, why didn’t he realize it before? He missed the demon because
he loved him. There was no reason for him to cry otherwise.

Ah, so that’s what it was.

That was why Wonwoo tried so hard to improve himself, even though Mingyu wouldn’t be there to witness it.
That was why he always thought of Mingyu before he went to sleep. He wasn’t just worried. He missed him.
That was why he kept a memento of the demon with him. It wasn’t just guilt. It was love.

The tears started running down again. Mingyu was about to wipe the tears once again, but Wonwoo looked up
and told him something that was too shocking for him to bear.

“I’m crying because I love you.”

Mingyu froze. He looked down wide-eyed at the crying boy, but couldn’t say any words. He opened his mouth
to speak, but nothing came out. Wonwoo was looking up with expectancy.
“Mingyu?”

Wonwoo could see the demon turning red, still in a state of confusion.

“Mingyu, our contract… it’s still valid, right?”

Mingyu could only nod. The rest of his body refused to move.

“Then, can I ask that you love me?”

Mingyu snapped out of his state of shock and harshly wrapped his arms around Wonwoo to bring him in for a
tight embrace. It was so tight that Wonwoo could feel that Mingyu’s heartbeat beating just as rapidly as his.
Wonwoo answered to the hug, bringing his arms around Mingyu. They stayed like that for a long moment.

“Mingyu?”

“I never stopped loving you, Wonwoo. Not once did my feelings disappear.”

Wonwoo buried his face in Mingyu’s shoulder, embarrassed for what he was about to say next.

“You said our contract was still valid, right?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then… can I wish that you stay by my side?”

Mingyu pulled away from the hug. He placed his hands around Wonwoo’s face and looked into his eyes.
Wonwoo was once again mesmerized by the beauty of the demon’s dynamically colorful eyes, but his attention
was quickly brought to Mingyu when he leaned in. Just before their lips touched, the demon smirked as he
replied to the question.

“As you wish.”