Reyas Recs! - Tumblr Posts
did i just spend 18 hours of my life reading this in less than two days? yes i absolutely did.
a taste of something new — a soobin smau (+ written chapters)
summary: soobin doesn't like the fact that he's being peer pressured into finding a girlfriend just because of a stupid bet his friends decided to come up with, but what if someone else in a similar situation finds him and they decide to help each other?
or the one where y/n really wants a playstation 5 and soobin wants his friends to leave him the fuck alone, so they decide to pretend they're together for a while just to get what they so desperately need.
a/n: this is my second smau so i'm excited!! it's gonna be lighter and probably shorter & faster paced than ghosting, but i hope it's still enjoyable. i just really wanted to write something cliché and only god can judge me
rating: 16+
release date: march 5th, 2022
ending date: november 24th, 2022
status: finished
pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader, mentions of giselle (aespa) x jisung (skz) [don't ask me i just put the first two people that came to my mind together], maybe some other pairings on the side who tf knows i have zero control over my characters [edit: i was right. we got beomgyu x yeji. don't ask me. i don't know.]
content: smau with written chapters, fluff, crack but not really bc i'm not that funny some angst tbh, fake dating, strangers to friends (to idiots) to lovers, pining!!! mutual pining!!!, college!au, barista!soobin (& barista!beomgyu too) but i don't think that's too relevant for the story tbh, opposites attract?? ig
warnings: lots of swearing bc i can't hold back, some suggestive parts and some mentions of sex but nothing actually explicit bc i don't write smut so don't worry, written chapters are kinda long, this whole thing is cliché as fuck, sunoo's age has been adjusted by one year to fit with the rest, they're dumb and i love them
more info + chapters under the cut!
featuring: the rest of txt, sunoo (enhypen), yeji (itzy), giselle (aespa), huh jiwon (cherry bullet) shows up a few times, kim doyeon (weki meki) shows up once just to be annoying :/, han jisung (skz) is mentioned and might show up every now and then, others will probably be mentioned as well
MORE CONTENT: playlist | ask game | atosn thoughts (comments, songs and things about/that remind me of atosn)
PROFILES: powerpuff girls + prof. sunium, hybe boyz
00. TEASER
01. what the fuck sunoo
02. ps5 (written, 1.1k)
03. is this minho
04. take the damn money
05. i want the deets
06. not that bad — part one (sns), part two (written, 1.4k + sns)
07. pet my hedgehog
08. free chocolate
09. cotton candy (written, 1.7k)
10. favorite bunny
11. stubborn ass
12. five words (written, 2.8k + sns)
13. i'm serious
14. screenshot time!
15. lowkey cute
16. hiss hiss (written, 2.8k)
17. sleeping beauty
18. besties
19. boop (written, 2.9k + sns)
20. gross
21. most lovable thing
22. cute barista boyfriend
23. just tired (written, 2.8k)
24. the joker
25. double date
26. do you get deja vu?
27. good luck with that (written, 2.8k)
28. a little complicated (written, 2.6k)
29. sulk in peace
30. wimp
31. practicing (written, 3.5k)
32. exhausting
33. conflicted (written, 2.8k)
34. do the thing
35. long night (sns + written, 2.9k)
36. i promised you (written, 2.8k)
37. new song
37.5. a simp
38. nightmares (written, 3k)
39. weird...
40. ungrateful fuck
41. the hwang yeji effect — part one, part two
42. two weeks — part one (sns + writen, 3.3k), part two (sns)
43. something stupid
44. you're my friend (written, 5.4k)
45. help — part one (sns), part two (sns + written, 899)
46. feeling bad
47. i said i like you (sns + written, 2.7k)
48. brilliant
49. you gotta earn it
50. say you love me (written, 9k)
50.5. y'all are fake
epilogue. my boyfriend
BONUS CHAPTERS:
workplace (1.4k)
ATTENTION: i won't be posting fanfics on this blog anymore. my new writing blog is @blugyu.
© jjunis @ tumblr | 2022. do not repost, translate or take it as your own.
AAA I READ THIS AND NOW ITS 3 AM ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. DO I REGRET IT?? NAURRR IT WAS SO GOOD 😇🎀 (also poor beomgyu help 😭)
behind the net!┊nishimura riki
SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.
PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader
WC ! 9.8k
GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst
WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more
a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3
choi beomgyu talks too much.
you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.
“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”
sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.
“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”
“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.
wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?
you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”
byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.
no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.
“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.
“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”
well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.
“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.
by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”
your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.
gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.
satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”
byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”
you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”
“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”
you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”
“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“
“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”
byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.
L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.
“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”
you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”
add that to the list of famous last words.
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“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.
“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”
the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”
“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.
the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”
“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.
at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”
you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“
you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”
did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).
“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.
organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.
what on earth did you get yourself into?
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“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.
you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”
“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”
you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”
she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”
“no promises.”
her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”
you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.
byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”
“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”
your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”
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two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.
this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.
with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.
you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.
when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.
that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.
out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.
“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.
“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.
“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.
you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.
“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.
some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.
you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”
it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.
“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”
“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.
“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.
mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.
“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”
you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”
mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.
you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”
“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”
you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.
though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.
mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”
“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.
after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.
“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.
heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.
you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.
what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.
“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”
out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.
you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”
nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.
“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.
suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.
honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”
“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.
you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.
niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.
“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.
do.. niki and chelsea know each other?
“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.
“no way,” jake mutters.
your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“
“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.
“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.
“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.
jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”
“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.
the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.
day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.
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the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.
you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.
dearest y/n (aka the manager),
i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.
sincerely, yang rei.
jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?
“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“
“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.
the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”
none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.
‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.
“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.
“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.
“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”
“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.
you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”
without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.
“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?
no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.
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niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.
guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.
but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?
he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.
she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”
niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”
“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”
and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.
yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.
niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.
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two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.
ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.
“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.
you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.
“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.
sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”
“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.
“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.
“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.
“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?
you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”
“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”
“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.
“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.
the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).
“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.
he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.
niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”
“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.
oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.
and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.
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the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.
byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.
“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.
your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”
she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.
“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.
what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.
while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.
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ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.
oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.
you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”
you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”
“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.
“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“
byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”
“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?
byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“
“bullying you,” you correct sternly.
“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”
you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).
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four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.
“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”
how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.
niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”
you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.
he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”
your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”
he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”
seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.
niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“
you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”
“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.
“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.
niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.
that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.
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niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?
suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.
“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.
niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”
“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”
niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.
“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”
jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”
“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.
niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”
“you love us.”
jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”
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you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.
“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.
classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.
she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”
before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”
you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”
niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”
“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.
you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.
“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.
jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”
“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.
“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.
“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”
“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.
thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”
“here!”
“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.
“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”
at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.
niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”
you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”
“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.
luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.
the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”
the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”
so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.
the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”
as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”
jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?
“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.
you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”
“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”
the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.
“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.
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you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.
you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.
the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.
sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.
two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.
“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.
just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.
you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.
you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.
the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”
you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”
“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.
“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”
niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”
“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.
“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.
you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”
“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.
you smile, “deal.”
with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.
okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.
you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!
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THIS WAS SO GOOD AND CREATIVE HELLO?? I WILL BE REREADING DURING HALLOWEEN SEASON 🔥
that’s the spirit! — csb
pairing: choi soobin x f!reader
genre: sixth sense/ghost hunter!soobin, high school au, fluff with a lot of plot, angst, some elements of horror
wc: 14.6k
synopsis: a couple weeks before halloween, you find the quiet boy from your high school staring up into your bedroom. you’re a little creeped out, and miles more scared, but then he shows you something that changes how you see, well, everything.
warnings: ghosts so…death in general, descriptions of causes of death (murder, illness, etc.), mentions of murder/serial killers, mentions of killing, mentions of stalking, cursing, some overthinking on the reader’s part at one point, a lil magic, a singular demon, descriptions of wounds/blood, gore but nothing extremely detailed
note: this was supposed to be a halloween fic but fuck it, here it is in january
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masterlist
as far as you are concerned, you are a master at minding your damn business.
so-and-so has a potential new hookup? you turn your music up a little higher. the quarterback has a new girlfriend and — oh my god, he cheated on his ex with her? you bury your nose further into your economics textbook. with halloween coming up, now a little less than two weeks around the corner, all of the hubbub has gotten worse. everyone is preoccupied with the halloween parties to be thrown, the alcohol to be drunk, and, worst of all, the couple’s costumes to be worn.
you would like to think that you aren’t a bitter, anti-romantic scrooge, but that would be a pathetic attempt at a lie. you shake that thought away.
okay, high school is a bitch, a complete and utter one, but other people’s drama is not your own, and you definitely have no intent on joining in. gossip spread like wildfire, especially in a town as small as your own; you couldn’t hide anything from anyone. and you, rightfully so, refused to let your dirty laundry be aired to the entire population. you would rather sit in the drab, gray corner of the classroom with your few friends and do your homework and ignore all of the gossip so that you can leave this hellhole relatively unscathed. not that anything interesting ever happened to you, anyway.
senior year is supposed to be the best year of a person’s high school career, but it seems to be like any other year so far. sure, everyone has grown taller and your class actually wins pep rallies now, but not much else has changed. disappointment nips at the crease between your brows.
“what’re you being for halloween, again?” the question knocks you from your thoughts, your head swiveling so you could face your friend, selene, and half-heartedly tell her that you plan on being a ghost. yes, again. yes, with a bedsheet. no, you are not going to change your mind, it’s too late for that.
the final bell of the day rings and bars her from interrogating you further, the topic of your conversation shifting to how your last calculus exam went. it’s all mindless chatter, really, as you walked towards the door of the classroom. “i mean, the only really difficult problem was number sev-”
your sentence is cut short when you bump into something.
you look up to see a warm, solid chest directly in front of you. it isn’t something — it’s someone.
that someone being choi soobin.
Keep reading
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what is me and reading fics at 3 am???;8/!)
lost cause — yang jungwon
tags. high school au, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn warnings. cursing, one mention of piss
word count. 8.5k
note. thank u in advance for reading! i’m kind of nervous about posting this but i hope you enjoy and look forward to more writing from me in the future :))
playlist. MIMI by youra, 몰랐어 (just a little bit) by enhypen, 긴밤 by seori ft. GIRIBOY
masterlist
SYNOPSIS. since your brief friendship with your crush, yang jungwon, ended in radio silence, you’ve been determined to keep him at arm’s length. jungwon, convinced that you’ve grown to hate him during your months of disconnection, is equally as determined to win you back.
IT’S ALMOST TOO EASY, FALLING for Yang Jungwon.
Between the way his dimples poke into his cheeks when even a hint of a smile crosses his face and the sound of his laughter breaking through the murmur of the cafeteria every so often, the amount of time you spend reminiscing such menial details shows how much of a chokehold the boy has on your mind.
Keep reading
against the world
PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)
GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator
SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.
WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words
PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡
THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN.
You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.
The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end.
You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place.
But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer.
“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”
You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.
Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.
There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.
After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends.
You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up.
“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked.
Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction.
You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”
“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”
Cooperate. You hated that word.
You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit.
But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay.
You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee.
“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.
“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”
You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.
Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”
Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.
You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”
Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”
If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.
Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another.
People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.
And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.
Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you.
It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback.
You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.
But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.
“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”
You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.
You would never be anyone’s number one.
“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question.
“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”
Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”
To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were.
You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.
“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”
You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.
Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”
Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?
Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.
“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”
“How about you, Y/N?”
You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.
Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything.
Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.
You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.
Sunghoon.
No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.
You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.
You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all.
Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.”
You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were.
Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were.
You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.
You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.
“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”
“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.”
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”
“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”
“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.
And then there was Sim Jaeyun.
Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.
Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his.
Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”
“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance.
You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.
“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”
You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.
Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.
Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.
You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.
“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”
“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.
Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”
Oh.
He was trying to make you jealous.
You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.
For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.
You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily.
Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed.
It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse.
Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness.
It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.
In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.
You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.
Friends. Just friends.
It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with.
But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.
You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?
That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.
This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.
You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”
Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.
He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Now, I know that’s not true.”
Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.
You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there?
You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.
Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.
The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down.
Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire.
“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears.
“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”
You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about.
Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.
There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”
With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”
That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.
“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”
“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth.
For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself.
To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.
“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.”
His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.
“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”
There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”
At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings.
It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.
Nothing would ever change.
You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down.
“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”
You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was.
You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already.
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say.
It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach.
Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?
You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day.
You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up.
“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”
Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl.
But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?”
For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships.
“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”
“Something dark? What is it?”
“I don’t really know—”
“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”
Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red.
“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” was all you could say.
“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”
The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes.
You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.
But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.
You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.
The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.
“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”
“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”
“Because I was obvious about it?”
“No, idiot, because I like you.”
You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information.
No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well.
You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end.
“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”
His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”
Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong.
Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.
“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked.
You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely.
But it was different with Jaeyun.
“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”
And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun.
You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided.
A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline.
But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing.
From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything.
While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred.
You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you.
You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.
You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning.
You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed.
Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had.
But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought.
You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him.
You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit.
Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough.
But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him.
You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine.
It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.
You felt nauseous.
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.
The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide.
Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.
You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands.
By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out.
You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged.
Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon.
sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world
There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds.
Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.
It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out.
You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar.
Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it.
You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat.
Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.”
You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.”
“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”
“It must’ve been serious, then.”
“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”
There was a pause.
“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”
What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.
You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.
“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”
“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”
You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship.
“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”
“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”
He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”
“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident.
“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”
It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief.
He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”
No.
“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”
No. No.
“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…”
“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”
You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water.
“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall.
It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.
You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.
That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.
You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.
Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn’t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him.
It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday.
Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.”
Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”
Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”
“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.”
He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”
“Then let me ask Jong—”
“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?”
Your hands started to shake.
“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”
Your pulse raced.
“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?”
All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong.
But you were living in a fantasy by yourself.
Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.
It was Sunghoon.
You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.
“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.
“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”
You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”
Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”
You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”
“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”
Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.
It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.
Jongseong was sobbing.
The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control.
“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up.
In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up.
“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”
Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one.
“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.”
Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving.
It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.
You could hear him before you saw him.
Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get.
Sunghoon’s body.
You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.
It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead.
You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke.
But that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect.
You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote.
You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy.
“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”
“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.
“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”
You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again.
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”
“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”
You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”
“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”
Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”
Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”
You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood.
“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.
“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…”
“Y/N, help me.”
“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”
He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.
A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles.
Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open.
The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh.
When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life.
And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend.
The realization that washed over you was frightening.
“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”
A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders.
Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting.
Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.”
The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”
“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”
It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened.
In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge.
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”
You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife.
It had all happened so fast. Too fast.
In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud.
You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good.
Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.
As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest.
Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair.
“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”
You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”
You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red.
You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”
Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table.
A minute passed by. Another. Several more.
You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you.
You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night.
When the door opened, your head shot up.
“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table.
You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open.
“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.”
He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end.
At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day.
“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”
You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now.
There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.
You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty.
You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead.
“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember.
It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.
“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”
It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily.
You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”
“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”
You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours.
“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”
“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”
Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities.
He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still.
It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face.
Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar.
Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight.
What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.
Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you.
Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.
It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first.
Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them.
The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.
It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.
“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun.
He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything.
“Jongseong!” you called out.
When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”
“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”
“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered.
Nothing about this felt right.
You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.”
The air went still.
Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?”
Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now.
His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon.
“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.
Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before.
The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.
Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”
Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon.
And that was when he knew he already lost you.
“Don’t,” you insisted.
“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you.
Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon.
Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.
“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”
“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.
“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”
“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”
It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat.
“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.”
“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”
Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”
“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”
Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”
You looked up at him in horror.
Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you.
“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.”
Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you.
“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin.
With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.
“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”
“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”
Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.”
Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun.
“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”
Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level.
Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape.
But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.
Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing.
The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands.
He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.
And Sunghoon was on the ground.
He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound.
“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint.
“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees.
The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.
Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed.
Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him.
Even if he murdered Jungwon.
“Y/N, we need to get him to a—”
Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.
“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”
It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places.
“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest.
Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color.
“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”
In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.
It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.
“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief.
“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”
Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”
Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds.
“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”
He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him.
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”
But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him.
“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”
A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.
“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”
Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.
And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎♀️
did i just spend 18 hours of my life reading this in less than two days? yes i absolutely did.
a taste of something new — a soobin smau (+ written chapters)
summary: soobin doesn't like the fact that he's being peer pressured into finding a girlfriend just because of a stupid bet his friends decided to come up with, but what if someone else in a similar situation finds him and they decide to help each other?
or the one where y/n really wants a playstation 5 and soobin wants his friends to leave him the fuck alone, so they decide to pretend they're together for a while just to get what they so desperately need.
a/n: this is my second smau so i'm excited!! it's gonna be lighter and probably shorter & faster paced than ghosting, but i hope it's still enjoyable. i just really wanted to write something cliché and only god can judge me
rating: 16+
release date: march 5th, 2022
ending date: november 24th, 2022
status: finished
pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader, mentions of giselle (aespa) x jisung (skz) [don't ask me i just put the first two people that came to my mind together], maybe some other pairings on the side who tf knows i have zero control over my characters [edit: i was right. we got beomgyu x yeji. don't ask me. i don't know.]
content: smau with written chapters, fluff, crack but not really bc i'm not that funny some angst tbh, fake dating, strangers to friends (to idiots) to lovers, pining!!! mutual pining!!!, college!au, barista!soobin (& barista!beomgyu too) but i don't think that's too relevant for the story tbh, opposites attract?? ig
warnings: lots of swearing bc i can't hold back, some suggestive parts and some mentions of sex but nothing actually explicit bc i don't write smut so don't worry, written chapters are kinda long, this whole thing is cliché as fuck, sunoo's age has been adjusted by one year to fit with the rest, they're dumb and i love them
more info + chapters under the cut!
featuring: the rest of txt, sunoo (enhypen), yeji (itzy), giselle (aespa), huh jiwon (cherry bullet) shows up a few times, kim doyeon (weki meki) shows up once just to be annoying :/, han jisung (skz) is mentioned and might show up every now and then, others will probably be mentioned as well
MORE CONTENT: playlist | ask game | atosn thoughts (comments, songs and things about/that remind me of atosn)
PROFILES: powerpuff girls + prof. sunium, hybe boyz
00. TEASER
01. what the fuck sunoo
02. ps5 (written, 1.1k)
03. is this minho
04. take the damn money
05. i want the deets
06. not that bad — part one (sns), part two (written, 1.4k + sns)
07. pet my hedgehog
08. free chocolate
09. cotton candy (written, 1.7k)
10. favorite bunny
11. stubborn ass
12. five words (written, 2.8k + sns)
13. i'm serious
14. screenshot time!
15. lowkey cute
16. hiss hiss (written, 2.8k)
17. sleeping beauty
18. besties
19. boop (written, 2.9k + sns)
20. gross
21. most lovable thing
22. cute barista boyfriend
23. just tired (written, 2.8k)
24. the joker
25. double date
26. do you get deja vu?
27. good luck with that (written, 2.8k)
28. a little complicated (written, 2.6k)
29. sulk in peace
30. wimp
31. practicing (written, 3.5k)
32. exhausting
33. conflicted (written, 2.8k)
34. do the thing
35. long night (sns + written, 2.9k)
36. i promised you (written, 2.8k)
37. new song
37.5. a simp
38. nightmares (written, 3k)
39. weird...
40. ungrateful fuck
41. the hwang yeji effect — part one, part two
42. two weeks — part one (sns + writen, 3.3k), part two (sns)
43. something stupid
44. you're my friend (written, 5.4k)
45. help — part one (sns), part two (sns + written, 899)
46. feeling bad
47. i said i like you (sns + written, 2.7k)
48. brilliant
49. you gotta earn it
50. say you love me (written, 9k)
50.5. y'all are fake
epilogue. my boyfriend
BONUS CHAPTERS:
workplace (1.4k)
ATTENTION: i won't be posting fanfics on this blog anymore. my new writing blog is @blugyu.
© jjunis @ tumblr | 2022. do not repost, translate or take it as your own.
AAA I READ THIS AND NOW ITS 3 AM ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. DO I REGRET IT?? NAURRR IT WAS SO GOOD 😇🎀 (also poor beomgyu help 😭)
behind the net!┊nishimura riki
SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.
PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader
WC ! 9.8k
GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst
WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more
a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3
choi beomgyu talks too much.
you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.
“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”
sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.
“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”
“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.
wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?
you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”
byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.
no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.
“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.
“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”
well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.
“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.
by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”
your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.
gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.
satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”
byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”
you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”
“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”
you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”
“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“
“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”
byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.
L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.
“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”
you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”
add that to the list of famous last words.
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“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.
“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”
the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”
“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.
the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”
“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.
at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”
you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“
you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”
did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).
“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.
organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.
what on earth did you get yourself into?
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“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.
you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”
“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”
you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”
she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”
“no promises.”
her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”
you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.
byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”
“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”
your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”
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two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.
this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.
with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.
you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.
when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.
that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.
out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.
“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.
“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.
“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.
you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.
“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.
some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.
you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”
it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.
“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”
“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.
“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.
mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.
“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”
you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”
mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.
you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”
“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”
you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.
though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.
mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”
“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.
after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.
“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.
heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.
you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.
what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.
“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”
out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.
you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”
nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.
“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.
suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.
honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”
“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.
you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.
niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.
“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.
do.. niki and chelsea know each other?
“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.
“no way,” jake mutters.
your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“
“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.
“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.
“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.
jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”
“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.
the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.
day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.
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the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.
you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.
dearest y/n (aka the manager),
i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.
sincerely, yang rei.
jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?
“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“
“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.
the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”
none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.
‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.
“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.
“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.
“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”
“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.
you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”
without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.
“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?
no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.
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niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.
guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.
but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?
he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.
she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”
niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”
“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”
and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.
yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.
niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.
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two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.
ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.
“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.
you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.
“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.
sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”
“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.
“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.
“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.
“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?
you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”
“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”
“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.
“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.
the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).
“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.
he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.
niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”
“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.
oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.
and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.
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the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.
byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.
“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.
your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”
she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.
“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.
what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.
while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.
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ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.
oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.
you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”
you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”
“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.
“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“
byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”
“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?
byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“
“bullying you,” you correct sternly.
“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”
you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).
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four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.
“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”
how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.
niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”
you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.
he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”
your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”
he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”
seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.
niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“
you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”
“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.
“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.
niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.
that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.
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niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?
suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.
“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.
niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”
“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”
niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.
“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”
jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”
“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.
niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”
“you love us.”
jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”
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you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.
“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.
classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.
she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”
before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”
you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”
niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”
“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.
you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.
“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.
jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”
“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.
“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.
“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”
“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.
thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”
“here!”
“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.
“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”
at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.
niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”
you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”
“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.
luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.
the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”
the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”
so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.
the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”
as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”
jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?
“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.
you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”
“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”
the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.
“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.
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you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.
you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.
the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.
sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.
two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.
“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.
just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.
you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.
you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.
the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”
you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”
“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.
“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”
niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”
“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.
“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.
you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”
“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.
you smile, “deal.”
with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.
okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.
you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!
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THIS WAS SO GOOD AND CREATIVE HELLO?? I WILL BE REREADING DURING HALLOWEEN SEASON 🔥
that’s the spirit! — csb
pairing: choi soobin x f!reader
genre: sixth sense/ghost hunter!soobin, high school au, fluff with a lot of plot, angst, some elements of horror
wc: 14.6k
synopsis: a couple weeks before halloween, you find the quiet boy from your high school staring up into your bedroom. you’re a little creeped out, and miles more scared, but then he shows you something that changes how you see, well, everything.
warnings: ghosts so…death in general, descriptions of causes of death (murder, illness, etc.), mentions of murder/serial killers, mentions of killing, mentions of stalking, cursing, some overthinking on the reader’s part at one point, a lil magic, a singular demon, descriptions of wounds/blood, gore but nothing extremely detailed
note: this was supposed to be a halloween fic but fuck it, here it is in january
⊱ playlist ⊰
masterlist
as far as you are concerned, you are a master at minding your damn business.
so-and-so has a potential new hookup? you turn your music up a little higher. the quarterback has a new girlfriend and — oh my god, he cheated on his ex with her? you bury your nose further into your economics textbook. with halloween coming up, now a little less than two weeks around the corner, all of the hubbub has gotten worse. everyone is preoccupied with the halloween parties to be thrown, the alcohol to be drunk, and, worst of all, the couple’s costumes to be worn.
you would like to think that you aren’t a bitter, anti-romantic scrooge, but that would be a pathetic attempt at a lie. you shake that thought away.
okay, high school is a bitch, a complete and utter one, but other people’s drama is not your own, and you definitely have no intent on joining in. gossip spread like wildfire, especially in a town as small as your own; you couldn’t hide anything from anyone. and you, rightfully so, refused to let your dirty laundry be aired to the entire population. you would rather sit in the drab, gray corner of the classroom with your few friends and do your homework and ignore all of the gossip so that you can leave this hellhole relatively unscathed. not that anything interesting ever happened to you, anyway.
senior year is supposed to be the best year of a person’s high school career, but it seems to be like any other year so far. sure, everyone has grown taller and your class actually wins pep rallies now, but not much else has changed. disappointment nips at the crease between your brows.
“what’re you being for halloween, again?” the question knocks you from your thoughts, your head swiveling so you could face your friend, selene, and half-heartedly tell her that you plan on being a ghost. yes, again. yes, with a bedsheet. no, you are not going to change your mind, it’s too late for that.
the final bell of the day rings and bars her from interrogating you further, the topic of your conversation shifting to how your last calculus exam went. it’s all mindless chatter, really, as you walked towards the door of the classroom. “i mean, the only really difficult problem was number sev-”
your sentence is cut short when you bump into something.
you look up to see a warm, solid chest directly in front of you. it isn’t something — it’s someone.
that someone being choi soobin.
Keep reading
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what is me and reading fics at 3 am???;8/!)
lost cause — yang jungwon
tags. high school au, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn warnings. cursing, one mention of piss
word count. 8.5k
note. thank u in advance for reading! i’m kind of nervous about posting this but i hope you enjoy and look forward to more writing from me in the future :))
playlist. MIMI by youra, 몰랐어 (just a little bit) by enhypen, 긴밤 by seori ft. GIRIBOY
masterlist
SYNOPSIS. since your brief friendship with your crush, yang jungwon, ended in radio silence, you’ve been determined to keep him at arm’s length. jungwon, convinced that you’ve grown to hate him during your months of disconnection, is equally as determined to win you back.
IT’S ALMOST TOO EASY, FALLING for Yang Jungwon.
Between the way his dimples poke into his cheeks when even a hint of a smile crosses his face and the sound of his laughter breaking through the murmur of the cafeteria every so often, the amount of time you spend reminiscing such menial details shows how much of a chokehold the boy has on your mind.
Keep reading
against the world
PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)
GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator
SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.
WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words
PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡
THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN.
You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.
The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end.
You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place.
But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer.
“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”
You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.
Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.
There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.
After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends.
You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up.
“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked.
Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction.
You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”
“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”
Cooperate. You hated that word.
You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit.
But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay.
You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee.
“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.
“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”
You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.
Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”
Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.
You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”
Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”
If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.
Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another.
People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.
And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.
Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you.
It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback.
You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.
But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.
“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”
You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.
You would never be anyone’s number one.
“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question.
“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”
Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”
To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were.
You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.
“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”
You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.
Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”
Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?
Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.
“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”
“How about you, Y/N?”
You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.
Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything.
Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.
You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.
Sunghoon.
No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.
You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.
You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all.
Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.”
You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were.
Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were.
You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.
You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.
“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”
“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.”
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”
“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”
“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.
And then there was Sim Jaeyun.
Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.
Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his.
Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”
“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance.
You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.
“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”
You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.
Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.
Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.
You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.
“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”
“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.
Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”
Oh.
He was trying to make you jealous.
You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.
For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.
You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily.
Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed.
It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse.
Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness.
It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.
In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.
You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.
Friends. Just friends.
It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with.
But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.
You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?
That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.
This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.
You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”
Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.
He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Now, I know that’s not true.”
Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.
You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there?
You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.
Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.
The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down.
Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire.
“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears.
“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”
You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about.
Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.
There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”
With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”
That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.
“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”
“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth.
For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself.
To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.
“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.”
His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.
“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”
There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”
At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings.
It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.
Nothing would ever change.
You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down.
“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”
You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was.
You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already.
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say.
It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach.
Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?
You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day.
You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up.
“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”
Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl.
But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?”
For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships.
“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”
“Something dark? What is it?”
“I don’t really know—”
“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”
Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red.
“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” was all you could say.
“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”
The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes.
You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.
But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.
You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.
The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.
“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”
“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”
“Because I was obvious about it?”
“No, idiot, because I like you.”
You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information.
No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well.
You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end.
“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”
His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”
Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong.
Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.
“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked.
You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely.
But it was different with Jaeyun.
“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”
And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun.
You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided.
A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline.
But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing.
From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything.
While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred.
You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you.
You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.
You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning.
You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed.
Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had.
But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought.
You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him.
You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit.
Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough.
But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him.
You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine.
It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.
You felt nauseous.
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.
The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide.
Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.
You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands.
By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out.
You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged.
Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon.
sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world
There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds.
Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.
It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out.
You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar.
Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it.
You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat.
Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.”
You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.”
“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”
“It must’ve been serious, then.”
“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”
There was a pause.
“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”
What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.
You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.
“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”
“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”
You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship.
“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”
“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”
He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”
“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident.
“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”
It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief.
He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”
No.
“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”
No. No.
“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…”
“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”
You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water.
“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall.
It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.
You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.
That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.
You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.
Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn’t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him.
It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday.
Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.”
Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”
Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”
“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.”
He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”
“Then let me ask Jong—”
“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?”
Your hands started to shake.
“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”
Your pulse raced.
“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?”
All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong.
But you were living in a fantasy by yourself.
Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.
It was Sunghoon.
You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.
“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.
“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”
You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”
Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”
You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”
“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”
Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.
It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.
Jongseong was sobbing.
The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control.
“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up.
In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up.
“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”
Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one.
“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.”
Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving.
It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.
You could hear him before you saw him.
Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get.
Sunghoon’s body.
You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.
It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead.
You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke.
But that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect.
You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote.
You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy.
“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”
“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.
“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”
You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again.
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”
“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”
You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”
“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”
Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”
Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”
You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood.
“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.
“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…”
“Y/N, help me.”
“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”
He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.
A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles.
Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open.
The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh.
When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life.
And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend.
The realization that washed over you was frightening.
“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”
A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders.
Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting.
Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.”
The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”
“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”
It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened.
In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge.
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”
You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife.
It had all happened so fast. Too fast.
In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud.
You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good.
Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.
As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest.
Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair.
“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”
You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”
You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red.
You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”
Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table.
A minute passed by. Another. Several more.
You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you.
You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night.
When the door opened, your head shot up.
“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table.
You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open.
“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.”
He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end.
At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day.
“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”
You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now.
There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.
You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty.
You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead.
“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember.
It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.
“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”
It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily.
You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”
“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”
You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours.
“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”
“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”
Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities.
He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still.
It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face.
Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar.
Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight.
What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.
Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you.
Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.
It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first.
Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them.
The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.
It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.
“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun.
He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything.
“Jongseong!” you called out.
When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”
“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”
“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered.
Nothing about this felt right.
You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.”
The air went still.
Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?”
Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now.
His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon.
“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.
Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before.
The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.
Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”
Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon.
And that was when he knew he already lost you.
“Don’t,” you insisted.
“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you.
Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon.
Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.
“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”
“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.
“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”
“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”
It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat.
“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.”
“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”
Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”
“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”
Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”
You looked up at him in horror.
Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you.
“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.”
Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you.
“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin.
With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.
“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”
“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”
Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.”
Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun.
“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”
Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level.
Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape.
But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.
Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing.
The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands.
He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.
And Sunghoon was on the ground.
He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound.
“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint.
“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees.
The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.
Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed.
Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him.
Even if he murdered Jungwon.
“Y/N, we need to get him to a—”
Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.
“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”
It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places.
“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest.
Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color.
“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”
In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.
It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.
“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief.
“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”
Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”
Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds.
“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”
He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him.
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”
But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him.
“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”
A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.
“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”
Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.
And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎♀️
did i read this all at 5 am knowing i have school today? yes, absolutely, do i regret it? NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT! pls girly…. how am i supposed to recover from this 😭 SO SO SO SO GOOD I GENUINELY CANNOT! written so incredibly well, i was skeptical since the main part of the plot was inspired by the webtoon (fuck the recent eps btw) yet you still managed to make it something completely your own which was amazing. im not one to cry at all but honestly after reading i wanted to cry at the thought of it being over LMAO CUS UGH ITS SO INCREDIBLE?;):72(82 i hadn’t read a good fic in a while so thank you… sigh, life feels empty now!!
UNLUCKY GIRL SYNDROME ✦ PSH
SYNOPSIS. if it was possible to see the number of people who would fall in love with you over your lifetime, most people would agree to it in a heartbeat, but some might not. you don't get that choice, labelled by a mysterious system as someone destined to receive no love and threatened to fix this 'error' before it's too late. but who will be your saviour, the social pariah sunghoon, or the school's golden boy sim jaeyun?
CONTENT. f! reader, love triangle, grumpy x sunshine, serious topics (burnout, mental health, etc.), she fell first he fell harder, drama, comedy, slight angst
PLAYLIST. listen here... ! feel free to send in an ask with recommendations
NOTE. this is inspired by true love operation! the premise & the character settings are both based off of it!
++ the love triangle is between you, jake, and sunghoon. which I KNOW a lot of people hate love triangles and tbh i don't love them, but the main reason i think a lot of people don't like them is the main character tends to lead the second lead on and refuses to make a choice. i don't think that happens here! and anyways, not to spoil... but i'm actually going to make this a three part series for each of the 02z so jake will get his happy ending!
++ special thanks to suki ( @fleurre ) for beta reading, you helped me SO much!
WORD COUNT. 16.7 k / 31.2 k
PART TWO. link at bottom, and also here!
when sunghoon thinks back on this moment months later, he’ll shudder in embarrassment at his behaviour. right now, he’s just a bit of an asshole: the kind of guy to see a cat stuck in a tree and simply continue walking.
sunghoon of course, knowns none of this. he’s musing about how much longer he has to spend in the building when a harsh shove jolts him back to reality from the haze his mind had ventured to.
he stumbles slightly, almost falling into a desk, ultimately regaining his balance easily thanks to years of being an ice skater. he levels a glare at the culprit responsible for nearly making him eat tile, raising an eyebrow at the boy’s lurching gait.
his attention remains on the boy, half curious about the boy and half excessively bored from waiting for class to start. the bustle and chatter of sunghoon’s fellow high schoolers serves only to irritate him as he sees the boy slump into his desk and settle his head down onto the worn wood.
must be tired. still doesn’t stop sunghoon from internally chastising him. idiot. as an athlete… as a former athlete, he’s long since hammered it in to have a hearty and enriched breakfast every single morning.
he’s just about to turn away when a moving figure- seemingly headed straight for the desk sunghoon’s attention has been invested in- enters his field of vision.
sunghoon holds back a sigh. it’s you. he knows you yes, but he doesn’t particularly like you. in fact, one might venture as far as to say that you irritate him. piss him off, even. the frown on his face only deepens when you dart a quick glance around the classroom to make sure no one’s paying attention, to which he quickly looks away.
only for his attention to return back to you soon after. sunghoon watches as you, upon a seemingly clear coast, pull a cold coffee can out of your backpack as well as a pastry. he snorts, what an awfully non nutritious breakfast. you seem to falter a little, hands moving carefully so as to not disrupt the boy’s rest. satisfied with your work, you head back to your seat.
he’s noticed that you seem to be wholly friendless. which is odd, considering how you behave when no one’s looking.
now here’s the thing. he doesn’t dislike you because of something you did or still do, well not in the way most people would expect. as horrendously unreasonable as it sounds even to himself, you just don’t make sense.
how could anyone be kind for no reason? he would see you around school just helping people out both without them knowing and receiving no benefit from it. who does that? the reason this bothers him is that it isn’t possible.
love is entirely transactional; this is something sunghoon has observed from the people around him as a child, and that had only been cemented in his circuit as a child prodigy.
people loved him when he was good at what he did. when he ate, slept, and breathed ice skating. they loved how he never missed a day at the rink, never scored lower than the podium at competitions.
fans would do so much for him, but it was all transactional. the second he faltered, made a mistake, stopped being perfect and faltered, so too did their love. when he lost his passion and washed up, so too did their support.
not just love but even kindness is given with the expectation of earning something in return. the fact that you don’t seem to have this motive is incredibly suspicious, and he doesn’t believe it for a second.
there has to be something you’re hiding, and while he might not care enough to set out and find it, he would take extreme pleasure in knowing he was right the whole time when the truth inevitably came out.
you pout as you watch the hustle and bustle of the classroom during your lunch period. you don’t have anyone to speak to, yes, but it isn’t really by choice. you had transferred here this year, only to be slightly taken aback by the cliquey and peculiar culture. your old school was very friendly, enough that your friends knew all about your slightly embarrassing hobby about writing romance stories online even without ever having dated anyone. they would be perhaps 5 out of the 8 likes you’d receive on chapters.
you have never had a problem making friends, but that was back home. this is here. here, the atmosphere is so rigid and chilly that you’d never think for a second about opening up to someone about your pastimes even if you did get friends. in fact, the loneliness had gotten to you so much that you stopped posting full stop, not feeling you understood human relations enough to write about them at all.
so you try helping people, for no reason in particular. it comes entirely naturally to be honest. it’s just that if you can’t make friends with people then this is how you can still be near people.
everyone craves human connection in one way or another, the only difference is if they allow themselves to do so.
now you just watch wistfully as gaggles of teenage boys yell boisterously and raucous laughter fills the air. girls sit with each other, leaning in to hear the hot gossip or simply about each other’s lives.
the sun streaming in through the large windows casts a golden shine over the scene, somehow causing you to feel nostalgic even as you are present in the moment. not to mention the aromas. it’s all you can do to not rob the boy sitting a few desks away from you of his lunch, also alone.
though, once your eyes reach him, they don’t leave. why does he look bored out of his mind? maybe he has no friends like you? actually, that’s highly unlikely. he probably does, they’re just in another class. man, with a face like that, it’s hard to believe people in this class aren’t clambering to hang out around him.
your eyes narrow slightly; considering the wide berth the other students give him, such isolation may be intentional. oh well, not your problem.
not your problem, because what you have to worry about right now is finding friends. it’s harder than it sounds. the noise around the classroom peters out and you settle further into your chair.
oh well. there’s always tomorrow to start making friends.
jake’s eyes are just about to close when the door to the storage room he’s found for himself whips open. great. just when he thought he could get some alone time away from the hordes of people vying for his attention.
now the model genuinely appreciates the dedication people seem to have in supporting him, but. but. there’s this stuffy feeling in his chest he gets whenever he thinks about it nowadays.
he doesn’t like thinking about it, so his solution is just that. don’t think about it.
but now, you’ve arrived into the room and he has a strong feeling his peace will get disrupted.
jake holds his breath as you curse lightly after stumbling in and closing the door behind you. he feels like a field mouse trying to evade a bald eagle’s notice. in both cases it’s useless, of course.
you gasp, and he winces, trying to prepare himself for the ear-splitting shrieks that are surely soon to follow. and then inevitably a horde of excited teenage girls bustling in. so much for a peaceful lunch.
contrary to his expectations, however, your volume remains to be under 60 decibels as you open your mouth, “woah! i didn’t realize anyone else would be in here, sorry!”
jake raises his brows, slightly confused. don’t get him wrong, while he is indeed what you would call famous, he doesn’t expect everyone to love or even know who he is. he’s met many people who were indifferent to him or seemed to possibly dislike him.
it’s just, that had never happened here. now that he has started going to decelis academy, there hasn’t been a single moment he’s alone or unknown. and that’s, well, the nature of highschool. people would find out a model is attending their school and spread it to all of their friends, or that they had seen him in an ad. that kind of stuff.
so considering school would obviously be full of teen aged girls, whilst roaming decelis’ halls he had never encountered a face that lacked recognition the way yours did.
jake speaks cautiously, but still maintaining his friendly air, “that’s alright.”
you blink, somehow this boy is a little familiar, but you can’t pinpoint exactly where you’ve seen him… oh well, again, not your problem! it seems like he’s open to sharing the space with the way he hadn’t immediately shooed you out. you take a cursory glance around the room, noting a broken fountain drink bottle in the corner.
you step further in the room clearing your throat a bit, “so, do you mind if i stay here?”
right now you’re really not looking forward to going outside and facing everyone. hundreds of people, and none of them as lonely as you.
you don’t know how much longer you can take it, going to school every morning and having the hours crawl by painstakingly slow.
internally, jake assesses how likely you are to bother him and be invasive; taking in your frazzled appearance and rather nervous state, he decides you’re most likely hiding out here for reasons entirely unrelated to him.
he smiles warmly and nods, “sure, you should probably take a seat, though.”
say… you could try making friends with this boy sitting on the ground? sure, it might go awfully wrong and he’d be weirded out by you, but considering you’ve never seen him before now, what’s the likelihood you’d see him after?
so you square your shoulders, ignore the way this boy is incredibly handsome– enough to be a model even– and open your mouth.
“why are you hiding out here?”
the words strike the silent air like a whip and even you wince when they exit your mouth. the way you said it sounded just a tad confrontational and you can see an undecipherable emotion fill the boy’s face as his brows furrow and eyes narrow. before he can open his mouth however, you interrupt in an attempt to not sound accusatory.
“that sounded a bit odd, i just meant i’ve never seen anyone other than me eat alone.”
the boy raises his eyebrows, and slightly embarrassed, you speak yet again.
“not that i don’t have friends!”
you pause, before sighing and deflating.
“actually, why am i trying. i don’t.”
by now jake is thoroughly bewildered, this encounter being the furthest thing from what he expected when you had entered through the heavy metal door (speaking of which, how did you have the strength to whip it open anyways?)
the conversation is so out of left field that jake’s perfectly maintained filter slips for a moment, and he asks, “are you new here?”
you blink a few times before sighing, “yes… how’d you know?”
now there are a great number of things he can say at this moment, that it’s unlikely for you to have no friends unless you’re new, that he has never seen you around before, but what came out is more honest.
“you didn’t know me.”
“what?” you raise an eyebrow, immensely surprised at what this boy (you really should ask for a name so you don’t have to keep referring to him as boy in your head) has just said.
jake panics at his admittedly less than courteous words, so he fumbles slightly in hopes of covering them up.
“uh, i just mean, i’ve never seen you! i know a lot of people around the school, but i don’t think i’ve seen you around.”
he scratches his head sheepishly, hoping you take the gesture and words and think about them instead of the slightly arrogant sentence he had uttered prior.
you nod, definitely not forgetting what he had said just now, but accepting the words as valid reasoning.
jake is a bit nervous, this didn’t fit into his usual case of interacting with others. it never took him this much effort to engage in a conversation and get people to like him.
and yes, you need to like jake, because everyone likes jake. he’s that guy.
the model rakes his brain for something to say before realizing a big glaring point he has missed all along.
“what’s your name?” jake levels another friendly smile at you.
you stare at him, focused on analyzing his features and trying to figure out where you’ve seen him before when the words break you out of your reverie.
you’re quiet for a second, listening to the sound of laughter and cheer that seems to encompass free periods, before you answer him with your name.
jake nods, “i’m jake.”
you frown, a little perturbed, that name is so familiar too. you know there’s no way this is the first time you’ve seen that face paired up with that name, “do i know you?”
in turn, he raises his brows, a little surprised at the question.
“not that i’m aware of..?”
he’s in the middle of figuring out how to say he’s a model which may be where you’ve seen him without seeming conceited when you gasp.
“yes, i do!”
jake waits for you to gush over said modelling, only to be slightly surprised when he’s met with a slight glare and pout instead.
“when i first transferred here you ran into me and made me spill my drink all over myself! and then you just made me write my kakaopay and ran away!”
the boy’s jaw drops open, extremely surprised by what came out of your mouth.
. . .
he struggles to find the right words, but there seems to be none in this situation. especially because he does not remember the encounter at all. he’s a busy person who interacts with countless people every day, and there’s no way he’d remember a one-off incident like that.
especially because he seemed to be in a hurry at the time you met him.
“i’m… sorry...”
you raise a brow, “it’s alright, you paid for it anyway. why were you in such a rush though…?”
“i’m not sure,” jake murmurs, but you’re not done with your commentary.
“the most exciting thing going on that day was the math competition, and that’s saying something.”
jake’s eyes light up, remembering, “that’s where i was going then! the math contest.”
your eyes widen slightly, “oh, i wouldn’t have expected that.”
wait.. is this boy pouting? it seems to be a mix between a pout and a grimace.
“why not.”
oh gosh, did you offend him? does it sound like you’re saying he doesn’t look smart?
you wave your hands around frantically, not wanting to be misconstrued, “i didn’t mean anything, it’s just–”
you’re interrupted by a phone notification, and when you glance at your phone it elicits a gasp.
“would you look at the time, sorry, i gotta go!”
you get up and immediately head for the exit without waiting for a response. gosh, this is so embarrassing.
meanwhile jake, is still frozen on the floor, a little upset. you only see him as a pretty face (if you even saw that…) how typical. that's all he is to anyone else, of course.
you’ve always loved the walk home back from school. well, always is a little bit of an exaggeration considering you’ve only moved here a couple months ago.
still, you’ve been watching the leaves fill the trees and spring begin to roll in. your path home is full of life and ardour brimming in the trees and small animals. today is no different of course, you hum slightly as you trek through the journey.
you’re so lost in the tunes pumping through your earbuds that you almost miss the stark pink rectangle on the path in front of you.
‘huh, that’s odd,’ you think as you bend down to examine it more closely, realizing the object is a flip phone with a bright pink plastic backing. now who in their right minds would leave a phone on the floor? although, it most likely slipped out and fell…
and on top of that, having a flip phone in this day and age is slightly bizarre considering how outdated it is. not wanting to block the pathway, you pick the phone up and settle onto the bench.
maybe if you go through the details, you’ll find some information on the owner so you can return it to them. as old as it is, having a phone is still essential for communicating with everyone in your life and you’re sure whoever this phone belonged to won’t be pleased to lose it.
you power on the phone to go through it, and you find yourself able to go to the home screen immediately.
huh. either the owner hadn’t set a pin, or this phone’s so old it lacks the ability to set one.
which is good for you! it makes it easier to find the owner. but when you open up the contacts and try to check the owner contact, there’s no other form of contact there.
you’re just about to open the email app when the phone receives a message! you panic slightly, almost dropping the phone, but ultimately you decide to ignore the message.
but that’s before your eyes focus on the contents, to which you gasp softly.
unknown number: hey you who’s looking at this phone right now.
should you answer it? it might be the owner trying to contact you… a little odd that they would assume someone has it with them, but they could just be peculiar. nothing that would stop you from trying to return this device to the rightful owner.
unknown number: psst… answer me
unknown number: i have something to tell you
you decide to ignore the bizarreness of the message and respond with a quick:
you: hello, is this the owner of the phone?
not even 10 seconds pass by before you receive a response.
unknown number: you could say that. but that’s not important.
unknown number: what’s important here is you, you’re really lonely, huh?
okay, now this is getting really weird. too uncomfortable even for you, who’s always willing to help. but you make one last attempt.
you: sorry, i’m just trying to return this to the owner. if you let me know a meeting place i can give this back to you.
a message pings the phone at the same time yours is sent, causing you to widen your eyes. it’s a photo of you on the bench with a mocking sentence attached.
unknown number: poor little miss y/n. no one’s ever loved her, have they? :(
okay, now this is really fucking creepy. and there’s no way you’re helping them with the phone now. your stomach churns with unease, brain running a mile a minute, and you realize this person is close enough to see you. meaning they most likely left their phone on the road to observe and text whoever picks it up.
like one of those social experiments. except a million times more absurd. whatever. not your problem. you quickly settle the phone on the bench, knowing the owner would eventually come to retrieve it, before continuing on the sidewalk.
it’s only a few paces later when you freeze in your steps and you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
how the actual hell did they know your name? this no longer seems like a (debatably) innocent prank to you.
shivers crawl up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. suddenly the breeze and peaceful atmosphere don’t seem so nice and the path seems to stretch before you for miles.
just amazing, you curse the world out as you rush home, shoes pounding against the pavement at near breakneck speed.
shit. what the hell is going on?
you lock the door as fast as you can and lean your back against it, breaths coming out as harsh pants.
your mind as an absolute mess right now, severely freaked out by what just happened. you would think someone you know is pulling a messed up prank on you except you had left all your friends several kilometres behind when you moved away.
your hands are shaking even as you make your way to your bedroom and pace around the walkable space. an idea occurs to you and you desperately shoot towards where you had left your backpack.
maybe, without your notice, your mom has labelled your backpack or something, it’s highly unlikely but it’s looking to be your last hope.
knots tie themselves in your stomach as a cursory search of the bag shows it to be the plain thing you have always lugged to school. you sigh, opening the front pocket to get your phone as a natural response, but you freeze.
there, nestled comfortably alongside your phone, is the same pink flip phone you had left on the bench.
your hands tremble uncontrollably as you pick it up. you try to remember if there was an opportunity for anyone to stuff it into your bag, but there’s no way. you were running home at full speed, there was no way you wouldn’t have felt someone try and hold on to you long enough to unzip, insert, and then zip again.
something is wrong, and it’s really fucking with your head that you can’t think of a logical explanation to all of this.
sure enough, when you open the phone, another message has arrived.
unknown number: you didn’t really think you could run away, did you?
unknown number: awww i didn’t take you for a coward, y/n. although maybe that’s the reason no one can seem to love you.
unknown number: a pity.
you can’t decide whether to feel scared or angry, so you settle for a mix of both. it’s probably a good idea to try and find out more about this mystery sender, but that really isn’t something you feel like doing.
so you run back outside your house, bringing a dustpan, and smash the phone on the ground, cleaning up the mess to bring inside and throw out.
now if you see this stupid fucking phone again, it really would be a miracle.
thoughts of mystery senders and bright pink flip phones circle around your head as you get into bed that night, mind forgetting all about boys who spill drinks on you and boys that sit all alone at lunch, oddly isolated for some reason.
you have bigger things to worry about.
your homeroom teacher clearly doesn’t care about your bigger worries, you muse solemnly the next day with a sigh.
here you are, set to spend the next few weeks with the quiet and solitary boy in your class and saddled with extra work. you don’t entirely mind the extra work, but you have an inkling working with ‘park sunghoon’ won’t be fun.
this is what has happened. when you enter class in the morning, everything is going as usual. you haven’t seen that cursed phone again (thank god) and everyone seems to be going about their day perfectly fine.
then your teacher comes in, and begins to speak about a school wide event. she says that other schools are set to be invited, as well as a multitude of other things. all stuff you couldn’t care less about, and so you zone out.
that is, until the classroom goes pin drop silent and you realize maybe you should clock back in.
the teacher, it seems, is asking for volunteers?
“now, i know we have class representatives, but as they already have many other duties, i want to pick two new students for the roles of managing our class’s contribution to the event.”
still not very interesting, but you feign attentiveness. you can hear whispers all around you, people considering if the perks are worth giving up that much free time. ultimately, no one raises their hands for fear of looking eager.
instead, they wait for her to strike.
she calls on park sunghoon, curiously enough, “how would you like to help with the event, sunghoon?”
you can read people, so it’s very obvious a snarky reply might have made its way to his mouth, but you can almost see him swallow it back.
“okay,” he intones instead.
immediately, it’s as if someone has pressed a mute button. all of the potential interest in participating vanishes. you raise a brow, sunghoon seems to be a handsome guy, with no glaringly apparent personality issues, so why does it seem like absolutely no one wants to work with him?
is he a pariah, maybe? perhaps he had caused an incident before you had transferred to the school, and that caused their aversion.
nevertheless, whatever the reason is, interest in working on the school event has dropped into the negatives.
which, of course, means the teacher has to volunteer someone again. and of course, the lucky person has to be you.
“y/n,” the teacher starts, jolting you into attention, “would you like to work alongside sunghoon for the event? you’ll be able to make a lot of friends, and it might help in getting to know the school and its students better.”
you flinch in your seat, a flush settling in your body. this is so damn embarrassing. did she have to call you out like that in front of everyone?
“uh,” your voice cracks slightly and it’s all you can do to not dive under the desk and cry, “sure?”
it isn’t like you have much else of a choice, what with twenty-something pairs of eyes locked onto you expectantly. maybe if you do this they’d actually like you. if they don’t make fun of you for being so obviously friendless first, of course.
you’re still in an almost trancelike state when you and sunghoon are alone in the room with the teacher to receive more detailed instructions after class.
“you two will be in touch often in the upcoming month, so i suggest you exchange contact information, if you haven’t already.” she leaves with a final note.
so now it’s just the two of you. great.
you clear your throat awkwardly, “so, should we exchange numbers?”
the words are uttered with a friendly air as you try to not take his standoffish aura and appearance at face value. never judge a book by its cover, or whatever the saying is.
scratch that- did this bitch just roll his eyes at you? okay, wow, so maybe the other students are totally valid in giving his ass a fifteen foot berth.
“what else?”
and man, it might seem like a given to him, but it isn’t for you? there’s no reason to be so rude to a complete stranger. especially since you haven’t wronged him.
… nothing that you can remember, at least.
you hum, still being civil, of course.
“hmm, social media would work too.”
he levels you with an unimpressed gaze, “i don’t have social media.”
“o.. kay?” not entirely sure how to respond, you hand your phone over to insert his number.
he takes it, and you expect him to hand his phone over to do the same, but he doesn’t.
after around half a minute he just puts the cell phone back into your hands, already packing up to leave.
when he notices you standing there in place, not having moved an inch as he’s all but ready to go, he stares blankly at you.
“just text me so i get your number,” sunghoon mutters as he brushes past you.
wow. either you’ve done something wrong to him and forgotten about it (‘like jake did,’ you thought with a chuckle), or he’s just a grouchy person in general.
you’re leaning towards the second, because then it would also make sense why everyone avoids him.
sunghoon is in a very grumpy mood. sure, he wouldn’t go as far as to call you the bane of his existence but considering how often the corners of his mouth have pulled down into a frown in the past week, you might be close.
‘although,’ sunghoon muses, ‘it’s been getting better…’
most notably, despite your initial interaction and the following few being quite stilted, mostly courtesy of one standoffish park sunghoon, he’s noticed a sort of reluctant peace start to settle between the two of you.
from you, because annoyingly enough you don’t seem to have a mean bone in your body, and also from him because as much as you bother him, you intrigue him.
how are you possible?
and that’s where he is right now. sunghoon discreetly looks at you from his end of the storage room.
this week, the two of you are taking inventory of the school’s supplies in order to see what needs to be ordered. unfortunately, there are a lot of storage rooms across your school buildings. like, an unsettling amount.
the number causes an odd feeling to arise; considering there are so many, what are the odds that you would happen to stumble upon the one that contained jake? funny how things work out, isn’t it?
back to the point, you try to ignore sunghoon’s gaze digging into the back of your head as you rummage through the shelves on your side of the room and make notes on a clipboard.
eventually, though, it’s too much.
“what.” you force out before tracing back to suck any annoyance out of your tone, “i mean, is something the matter?”
sunghoon just stares at you cryptically, a slight smirk arising at your slip up. so you aren’t little miss perfect all of the time. funnily enough, this doesn’t sate him and instead he just grows more keen on seeing you lose your composure.
‘that’s right, you don’t like being nice all the time do you?’
before sunghoon can try and calculate what to say to irritate you, though, the words just slip out, “why are you so nice all the time?”
you raise an eyebrow, “am i?”
he gives you an unimpressed look, but doesn’t bother speaking so you continue.
“i don’t think i’m nice. i get really frustrated at people and i’m not always polite or courteous,” you ramble.
now this is interesting. sunghoon is downright flabbergasted, because what did you mean, you’re not nice?
“i’ve seen you help people out all the time,” sunghoon blurts out, realizing in hindsight he’s exposed himself.
you nod at him, deciding to ignore the fact that apparently you have been getting observed for a considerable amount of time.
“okay, but i consider that basic human decency. kindness, if we’re stretching it.”
his forehead scrunches and you hate that the mannerism gets marked in your head as ‘adorable’ before you reel yourself back and remember he’s been… kind of a dick to you.
although, considering the way everyone avoids him… maybe he’s just kind of a dick in general?
you are pulled from your musing when sunghoon speaks after his extended silence, “what’s the difference?”
you let out a startled, “huh?”
sunghoon shakes his head, his state of utter bafflement temporarily draining the previous irritation out of him, “between kindness and niceness, what’s the difference?”
“well,” you struggle to find a way to put it into words, “being nice is like being polite to others and having manners, like saying please or thank you. being kind… i think it’s more about other people and treating them well. caring.”
when he’s silent, you continue, “you can be kind without being nice, and you can be nice without being kind. the latter… is pretty common, considering how often people want to use others for their own gain.”
a certain light of understanding enters the boy’s eyes and you believe he’s starting to see your point, but sunghoon’s next words prove that wrong.
“kindness doesn’t exist.”
your eyebrows shoot up. what in the world is this guy talking about?
“of course it does, maybe it’s hard to be kind to strangers, but i’m sure you’ve experienced kindness from those that care about you.”
a frown settles on his face, and it’s like all the openness to discussion he had started to gather has vanished in an instant. sunghoon is akin to an ice cold wall.
he turns away from you, back to the shelves on his side of the room, cleanly killing the conversation in a few gruff words, “let’s get back to work.”
you sigh, turning and following suit, before you almost tip the basket you’ve started to peak into at his next words.
they find your ears in a faint whisper, almost as if they had not meant to be said aloud, “if kindness exists, i’ve never felt it.”
the words bring an immeasurable ache into your heart, despite this being your first proper conversation with him.
sure, he’s rude and unnecessarily curt with you, but he hasn’t gone so far as to be unkind. everyone deserves to receive warmth, to be nurtured and cared for.
of course, you sure as hell aren’t going to be the one to try and nurture him, it really isn’t your job.
that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a note of sympathy and sadness for the boy as you continue your inventory.
sunghoon is in a very grumpy mood. sure, he wouldn’t go as far as to call you the bane of his existence but considering how often the corners of his mouth have pulled down into a frown in the past week, you might be close.
‘although,’ sunghoon muses, ‘it’s been getting better…’
most notably, despite your initial interaction and the following few being quite stilted, mostly courtesy of one standoffish park sunghoon, he’s noticed a sort of reluctant peace start to settle between the two of you.
from you, because annoyingly enough you don’t seem to have a mean bone in your body, and also from him because as much as you bother him, you intrigue him.
how are you possible?
and that’s where he is right now. sunghoon discreetly looks at you from his end of the storage room.
this week, the two of you are taking inventory of the school’s supplies in order to see what needs to be ordered. unfortunately, there are a lot of storage rooms across your school buildings. like, an unsettling amount.
the number causes an odd feeling to arise; considering there are so many, what are the odds that you would happen to stumble upon the one that contained jake? funny how things work out, isn’t it?
back to the point, you try to ignore sunghoon’s gaze digging into the back of your head as you rummage through the shelves on your side of the room and make notes on a clipboard.
eventually, though, it’s too much.
“what.” you force out before tracing back to suck any annoyance out of your tone, “i mean, is something the matter?”
sunghoon just stares at you cryptically, a slight smirk arising at your slip up. so you aren’t little miss perfect all of the time. funnily enough, this doesn’t sate him and instead he just grows more keen on seeing you lose your composure.
‘that’s right, you don’t like being nice all the time do you?’
before sunghoon can try and calculate what to say to irritate you, though, the words just slip out, “why are you so nice all the time?”
you raise an eyebrow, “am i?”
he gives you an unimpressed look, but doesn’t bother speaking so you continue.
“i don’t think i’m nice. i get really frustrated at people and i’m not always polite or courteous,” you ramble.
now this is interesting. sunghoon is downright flabbergasted, because what did you mean, you’re not nice?
“i’ve seen you help people out all the time,” sunghoon blurts out, realizing in hindsight he’s exposed himself.
you nod at him, deciding to ignore the fact that apparently you have been getting observed for a considerable amount of time.
“okay, but i consider that basic human decency. kindness, if we’re stretching it.”
his forehead scrunches and you hate that the mannerism gets marked in your head as ‘adorable’ before you reel yourself back and remember he’s been… kind of a dick to you.
although, considering the way everyone avoids him… maybe he’s just kind of a dick in general?
you are pulled from your musing when sunghoon speaks after his extended silence, “what’s the difference?”
you let out a startled, “huh?”
sunghoon shakes his head, his state of utter bafflement temporarily draining the previous irritation out of him, “between kindness and niceness, what’s the difference?”
“well,” you struggle to find a way to put it into words, “being nice is like being polite to others and having manners, like saying please or thank you. being kind… i think it’s more about other people and treating them well. caring.”
when he’s silent, you continue, “you can be kind without being nice, and you can be nice without being kind. the latter… is pretty common, considering how often people want to use others for their own gain.”
a certain light of understanding enters the boy’s eyes and you believe he’s starting to see your point, but sunghoon’s next words prove that wrong.
“kindness doesn’t exist.”
your eyebrows shoot up. what in the world is this guy talking about?
“of course it does, maybe it’s hard to be kind to strangers, but i’m sure you’ve experienced kindness from those that care about you.”
a frown settles on his face, and it’s like all the openness to discussion he had started to gather has vanished in an instant. sunghoon is akin to an ice cold wall.
he turns away from you, back to the shelves on his side of the room, cleanly killing the conversation in a few gruff words, “let’s get back to work.”
you sigh, turning and following suit, before you almost tip the basket you’ve started to peak into at his next words.
they find your ears in a faint whisper, almost as if they had not meant to be said aloud, “if kindness exists, i’ve never felt it.”
the words bring an immeasurable ache into your heart, despite this being your first proper conversation with him.
sure, he’s rude and unnecessarily curt with you, but he hasn’t gone so far as to be unkind. everyone deserves to receive warmth, to be nurtured and cared for.
of course, you sure as hell aren’t going to be the one to try and nurture him, it really isn’t your job.
that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a note of sympathy and sadness for the boy as you continue your inventory.
finally. after a long hard day of, well, avoiding pushy fangirls and brown-nosers, jake has glimpsed some freedom.
he finds himself enjoying the breeze on a local park bench instead. it’s close enough to decelis that he still flinches every time he hears a high-pitched noise, but finding peace is not impossible.
especially when the park is full of families having fun and apparent couples lazing on the grass. it’s not often he gets to experience an atmosphere like this. not often that he’s allowed to pause and allow himself to feel the moment long enough to experience anything at all, actually.
it feels as if most of his time is spent in making connections, modelling, events and the time he does get to spend at school is used up dodging people who want to talk about said activities.
it’s downright exhausting, and it’s to the point jake considers dropping modelling several times a week. the issue, of course, is that he loves it. to him, it’s a form of art, especially when he can see all of the incredible content created from him. it’s like a part of him is permanently out there for people to know and experience and that’s just amazing to him.
an impasse.
but enough rumination, right now is his time to truly feel peace and enjoy the ambiance the fresh air and trees provide.
that is, until someone goes crashing to the ground in front of him.
jake did think that a block of pavement jutting at an angle from the previous would be an issue, but seeing the stray train of thought come to fruition is unfortunate.
what has just happened settles in, and jake scrambles off of the bench, mourning his peace only a little bit after taking in the familiar decelis girls’ uniform.
“oh my god, are you okay?” his hands hover hesitantly, twitching in the air uselessly in response to the girl’s groan filling the surroundings.
when you turn towards the boy to reassure him that ‘yeah, i just got my shit rocked in front of you, but i’m fine!’ you instead end up gasping when you notice who it is, “it’s you! coffee boy!”
jake is a little astonished, since when is he coffee boy? “hey! i have a name.”
you furrow your brow a bit, and he can’t tell if you’re trying to remember said name or that’s pain on your face.
“jake! right?”
he ignores the odd, new feeling of someone having to confirm his name instead of intuitively knowing it before he even says a word and nods, “and you’re y/n.”
he’s not sure if he would have remembered your name were it not for the way your last encounter with him went.
you nod enthusiastically, before frowning at the sting you feel on your knees. it seems the right one is slightly skinned. you frown, contemplating what you should do, still on the floor.
jake clears his throat, “you, uh, should probably do something about that.”
you raise an unimpressed brow, as if to say, ‘what, pray tell, should i do here in the middle of the park?’
but, not one to be discouraged, you reach into your bag, frowning and dumping one of the pockets contents onto the ground in search of what you need. you cheer slightly in triumph, grabbing the handkerchief around your skinned knee for now.
good enough until you get home.
you hear jake chuckle and fix your gaze back on him, confused as to what’s funny in the situation right now.
he smiles, pointing at an item from your backpack, “you’re still carrying a flip-phone around in this day and age?”
the blood evaporates out of your body. you don’t want it to be true, but as you follow his finger with bated breath, your heart stutters as your gaze lands on it.
it, being a bright. pink. flip-phone.
unbeknownst to you, jake frowns in confusion as he notices the drastic change in your demeanour. he remains dumbfounded as you flounder, shoving everything back in your backpack whilst completely ignoring the object.
he doesn’t even have the time to question you before you bolt away, leaving him and the flip phone.
jake’s unable to hold his curiosity back and he picks up the phone. he almost drops it at the message sitting on the home screen that greets him.
unknown number: hey, you’re not supposed to look at this! (¬_¬)
just what the hell is this? jake shrugs off the unnerving feeling and pockets the cell, deciding he’d give it to you eventually when you spoke again. although with the way you ran off, you didn’t seem too keen about it.
the model is utterly confused, but. oh well. he supposes being strange is one of your character traits.
unbeknownst to him, the phone would appear back in your backpack as soon as you arrive home.
jake would not find the flip phone later and would anxiously assume he lost it– or that you took it back without him knowing.
the second thought would lead to a misunderstanding later down the line, but that is currently unimportant.
when you finally burst into your bedroom, you’re hyperventilating. a cacophony of frantic thoughts swim around in your head, trying to find some way, any way, to rationalize this. except there’s no rationalizing it.
while you have always been open to the supernatural, by no means are you a quote unquote believer, or anything near the like.
so this is way beyond your scope.
you pace around your room, trying to consider what options there are. clearly, unless you have a devout and incredibly skilled stalker there is no human possibility for the occurrences so far.
with the hypothesis that what’s haunting you is indeed supernatural, what are your possible courses of action?
well, telling someone definitely won’t work out, not to mention the fact that the only people you could possibly tell are your friends, several kilometres away, who are no doubt busy with their own lives. ignoring it has clearly been going well for you so far.
so your only option is to communicate with the mysterious being on the other side and find out exactly what they want. and then hope they leave you alone. how ideal.
you sigh as you dump your backpack on your bed, hoping the flip-phone won’t be amongst your belongings and also simultaneously knowing you aren’t that lucky.
lo and behold, there it is. who would have known such a small object was capable of causing such immense spite? you flick open the phone, bracing yourself for whatever jeering remark is sure to be awaiting you.
unknown number: long time no see, huh? did you miss me?
you roll your eyes and shoot out:
you: no.
the response is unnervingly quick.
unknown number: you hurt my feelings, love. although I suppose you wouldn’t know much about that, would you?
you furrow your brows, having absolutely no idea what the entity is talking about. but before you could even begin to compose a response, another message arrives.
unknown number: alright let's cut to the chase. you’re unlovable.
what. the. fuck. tormenting you constantly isn’t enough, it has to mock you for being perpetually single as well. frustrated, you message back:
you: what do you mean?
unknown number: oh you know exactly what i mean. has anyone ever liked you, a little playground crush, developed feelings? no, because you’re not destined for love.
you don’t believe a word of whatever bullshit this cell phone is spouting.
you: alright, whatever. what’s the big deal.
the next gap between messages is longer, intriguingly enough.
unknown number: you’re an anomaly. a bug. and you know what happens to errors, we get rid of them don’t we?
your brows shoot up, unable to contain the shock at genuinely being threatened.
unknown number: this phone gives you the ability to see how much romantic affection someone will receive in their life ^ - ^
unknown number: you have 0. most normal people have at least 10. crazy, huh? try it out, take a selfie. this phone’s camera shows and tells all.
you roll your eyes, incredibly annoyed. as if. there are so many issues with that statement that you can’t accredit to supernatural abilities. how would the phone have the power to see the future? unbelievable.
which is precisely why you shut the phone off and toss it somewhere unknown in your room. you can't help the nagging feeling that it may not be the best idea, but what actual power does this phone have?
whatever entity talking to you could message you through the cell and seemingly return it to you endlessly, but you had reason to believe they needed to talk to you for some reason. it doesn't seem like a good idea to just give in and accept whatever it says thoughtlessly.
although there’s no doubt the phone would appear in your vicinity in a little while again and bother you until you open it, right now you just can’t be arsed to care.
what does it mean, ‘incapable of being loved,’ you hadn’t written romance on the internet to other teens for years to be told this. in fact, no doubt your (few) readers are patiently waiting after your final update several months ago.
you reminisce on the succinct author’s note you had left at the time:
hey guys, i’m moving schools! i’m going to be busy for a few months, but to be entirely honest. i haven’t been feeling writing for a while. i feel like i don’t know how to write romance at all. maybe if i had a boyfriend lol. but yeah, i’ll see you when i get the inspiration or motivation to write again! love you guys.
you snort, what’s happening to you right now might be a perfect romance plot.
finally, the two of you have arrived at decelis again, deciding to split up after bussing together here ‘for efficiency’
as sunghoon walks away after saying his goodbye, a thought strikes you. although you despised that damn flip phone with a burning passion, you’re just too curious.
so you pull the flip phone out of your backpack and point the camera at his back, wondering to see what his number would be.
you almost drop the phone, because what the actual hell? why did a high-school boy have thousands of people destined to love him? well maybe he'll be famous in the future? but that couldn’t be, you narrow your eyes, sunghoon has already earned quite a bit of those points.
the label attached to sunghoon reads as:
87k/90k
so sunghoon is already famous? but why is he through so many hearts so early? you don’t get a chance to ponder on it further because you see sunghoon turn around in your camera.
shit, shit, shit.
you make a split second decision to pretend you’re taking a selfie, which should be believable given the fact that you’re standing in front of a flower bush.
you pray he’s unable to discern the fact that the camera in the flip phone hinge is currently rotated to the outside, not inside, and make a pouty face at the hinge to try and sell the fact.
soon enough sunghoon turns back around and you let out a sigh of relief, not noticing the smile that had been on his face whilst observing you. before your brief calm can last though, you get a message.
unknown number: believe me now? you can target anyone, but i recommend sim jaeyun.
hold on, hold on, the stupid phone’s moving too fast. you raise your eyebrows, choosing to ignore the first question in your response:
you: who the hell is that?
the phone’s response doesn’t help at all.
unknown number: oh that’s precious. he’s a model at your school. you can also target park sunghoon i guess.
your brows furrow, not liking the idea of using anyone like that.
you: what’s so special about those two?
by now you're pacing back and forth, the conversation causing a spike in anxiety.
unknown number: they’ve never loved anyone. meaning we have no data on them. who knows, you could be the lucky girl ^ - ^
you sigh.
you: what does that have anything to do with me? can’t you use your powers to fix this all?
the response back is incredibly infuriating.
unknown number: it’s out of my hands. there’s nothing as indomitable as the human spirit.
oh, this bitch.
you: but why me? couldn’t someone else do this, like one of the other anomalies idk..
it takes a few seconds to get anything back, but what you see chills you.
unknown number: because someone who can’t be loved has no place in this world.
you narrow your eyes, more infuriated than hurt.
you: why the fuck should i listen to you
it’s as though the air instantly intensifies and the world quiets around you.
unknown number: i’ll give you a reason. move back
you shoot out a quick:
you: what?
before immediately receiving back:
unknown number: now.
now usually this kind of command would irk you into stubbornly ignoring it, but a seriously dreadful feeling settles into your gut. instantly you scramble backwards, tripping into the flower bush.
and just as well because as soon as you do, a motorcycle zooms past, on the sidewalk, tearing into the sound barrier as it breaks record speeds.
your hands tremble and you stare wide eyed in front of you, not even able to comprehend what just happened at first.
you tend to get absorbed in tasks, yes, but there’s no way even you wouldn’t have been able to hear the engine of a motorcycle approaching.
the thought of what would have happened to you if you hadn’t moved chills you to the bone. or if the phone hadn’t decided to warn you, or if it chose a more severe threat. you shudder.
the message is clear: ‘i can get rid of you anytime i want.’
you sigh.
you: okay fine i'll figure it out you piece of shit.
you slam the flip phone shut, not giving the other side a chance to reply. huh, that’s really satisfying, maybe you should switch your actual phone to one of these for that effect.
you sigh in frustration, the happiness and satisfaction from finally getting to glimpse underneath sunghoon’s stoic exterior now completely gone.
the phone’s words run around in your head, haunting you. there’s still no way you were going to manipulate someone into falling in love with you, but you have to figure something out, and fast.
something has to give, and you hope to hell it won’t be the ground underneath your feet.
you’ve been on edge ever since the motorcycle incident a few days ago, constantly paranoid that someone is following you or set to attack you.
it feels like every day is spent looking over your shoulder, and you are, which is probably why you bump into another student so hard, on the way to find a secluded corner to eat in.
you feel their hands grasp the sides of your waist to balance you before you yelp and jump back, finally realizing who it is when you do.
“oh gosh, i’m so sorry.”
then, remembering your first encounter you laugh, “looks like i’m the one bumping into you now, huh?”
you expect to see a smile or chuckle in response from the usually genial guy, but instead you're met with jake’s expressionless countenance.
you raise your eyebrows, about to ask if everything is alright, but jake interrupts you.
“sorry, but can we talk?”
you’re flabbergasted at the chill permeating his words, but you nod immediately, sensing the mood shift to something more serious.
jake on the other hand is incredibly frustrated as he walks with a brisk pace to the closest storage closet (again, why are there so many?)
you follow, even more confused now that this is apparently a conversation that has to be done in private.
when you turn after shutting the door, jake looks like he doesn’t want to be here at all, which is hilarious because he’s the one who brought you here?
jake inhales deeply before speaking, “be honest, are you stalking me?”
“what?!” your jaw drops, not entirely believing those words actually came out of his mouth. the notion to you is downright insane, because why would you go around stalking jake of all people?
you shake your head, disturbed, “what are you talking about?”
“i keep seeing you around after that first time we met; it looks innocent and coincidental, but you could easily be staging this. not to mention the phone.”
you have no idea what the second part of your sentence means, so you focus on the first part.
“we’re in a high school? we’re probably just in the same place? dude, i promise i’m not following you around, hell i don’t know how you’ve been seeing me when i haven’t been seeing you.”
seeing his unconvinced expression, you continue, “look, while i think being good enough in something to compete is incredibly cool, why would i be stalking a mathlete? i hate math!”
jake looks at you like you have a few screws loose.
“why would you be stalking me?” he repeats incredulously.
you nod.
“i’m a model. if you’re going to pretend you’re not stalking me, at least have a believable defense.”
now this is just ridiculous, you roll your eyes. “yeah sure. and i’ve sold a million copies of a book.”
not done with berating this liar, you continue, “the only model i’ve heard of going to our school is sim jaeyun!”
while jake was initially dead set on confronting you before this turns out like last time, the situation has just gotten bizarre.
“i’m sim jaeyun.”
“what.”
“that’s me.”
you shake your head, feeling like you’re speaking to a child, “no, you’re jake.”
“yes. that’s my nickname,” jake for his part, also feels like he’s speaking to a child.
he snaps himself out of it, “okay fine, i get all that, but that doesn’t change the fact that you forgot that phone with me and i kept it to give it back to you, but all of a sudden it disappeared? i took it with me and then it disappeared. so either you tried to get it back, or someone else stole it.”
a chill runs through you; you know exactly why the flip phone disappeared from jake’s possession. but there’s no way to explain that without sounding absolutely insane.
so you lie.
“i don’t know man, i’ve never seen that phone in my life. i didn’t even know it was in my backpack, which is why i freaked out a bit.”
you shrug, hoping to sell it.
jake stares at you for over a minute, trying to read your expression and determine if you truly were innocent. he must see what he’s looking for, because he sighs, and his shoulders relax.
“sorry, that was a pretty serious accusation. i just, dealt with a similar situation before and i didn’t react quick enough back then and it had severe consequences.”
you shake your head, “all cool. your evidence was mildly incriminating at least.”
he nods, “yeah, but still…”
“i was wondering,” you hesitate, not sure if asking would be going too far, “why are you alone so much? last time i met you, you were eating alone here for no reason.”
and jake could lie. he could brush it off. he could put up a big smile and let this opportunity to open up pass like every other one that’s come his way. and for a split second he’s about to, but then.
jake sighs. It’s not like anyone would believe the world of an odd, bright-eyed girl over him anyways. so even if you did open your mouth and blab to everyone about your conversation, no harm done, right?
“everyone hangs around me because they have something to gain or they’re impressed by some superficial trait i possess. no one sees me. not for who i am.”
you raise a brow, “which is?”
he pauses, not having expected that question and not entirely having an answer, but his mind flicks to one of his biggest grievances. that everyone only saw a pretty face and underestimated his intelligence. constantly.
“... smart?”
you burst out laughing, prompting a flinch from the teenage model. jake frowns at you, sure he doesn’t expect you to understand that even someone like him can struggle, but this is a little cruel isn’t it?
he voices as much, “hey… i bare my heart out to you, and you laugh at me. i know there are worse things, but–”
you interrupt him with wide eyes, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, “no, sorry! it’s just, when you were talking about being seen, i wasn’t expecting you to name something that’s also superficial.
he adjusts against the metal shelf, pursing his lips. “what do you mean?”
“well, intelligence is also something you’re born with, no?”
jake rolls his eyes, surprising you with his increasingly lax demeanour, “that’s something stupid people say to excuse themselves from learning and improving.”
now this actually prompts some derision from you, coming out in the form of an incredulous snort.
“not quite. you can learn things and grow smarter, yes, but some people are gifted with a natural intelligence. i don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right to use that as a metric when it’s not that simple.”
jake hums, contemplating, “what qualities do you look for in people, then?”
“like,” you pause, “loyalty, passion, dedication, kindness, humour, empathy, patience.”
you take a deep breath to continue, but get interrupted by jake, who’s laughing a little.
“i think i get it, that’s interesting. i’ve never thought of it like that before, but… you’re right.”
you smile, a little smug at coming out of this conversation with the upper hand.
jake, in the meantime, runs over what you’ve just said in his head several times. none of the people he surrounds himself with have a nearly similar line of thinking, and it’s exhausting.
hearing from you that the qualities you’re born with are the ones that don’t matter is a breath of fresh air, and jake can’t go back to the smog after experiencing it.
“hang out with me?” jake blurts before he can think about it.
he stiffens immediately and he rushes to clarify, a little upset at himself for being like this.
“not. like, in a date way. i want to be friends.”
you just give him an odd look, “i didn’t think it would be romantic?”
and it’s a little hypocritical, but that mildly offends jake, because why not?
he pouts, “what, why not? are you too good for someone vain like me?”
you laugh and shake your head, “no, no that’s not it. no one’s ever seen me like that, i mean.”
maybe it’s more of the phone’s words ringing around in your head, yelling at you that you’re unlovable, but it’s not like the phone lied. no one has ever confessed to you, or pursued you romantically.
your mind flashes briefly to the boy who left his number for you, but you shoo the thought away. if he was really interested in you, why didn’t he just speak to you? it wasn’t like you had claws or anything scary.
deep in your musing, you don’t notice the dumbfounded expression on jake’s face. how in the world has no one had a crush on you before? sure, it’s not like jake does either, but he isn’t blind, or stupid.
you were kind and pretty. and probably a bunch of those other qualities you had listed earlier. before he can make any sort of response, the bell rings, startling the two of you.
you gasp, looking at jake with a stink-eye, “you took up my entire lunch?”
“sorry, i’ll make it up to you?” jake responds with a sheepish grin.
you shake your head lightheartedly and turn to leave, exasperated but clearly not upset. before you can turn the knob though you feel jake clasp your wrist.
“wait!” he clears his throat, “add my number? so we can talk. and stuff.”
ah, this is so awkward. it’s been so incredibly long since he has made friends authentically.
you smile and agree. your smile only drops abruptly much later, when you’re in your seat and you realize you’re doing exactly what the flip phone wants. guilt fills your stomach and the idea of any of the pair finding out and thinking this is the only reason you became friends almost kills you where you sit.
although unwillingly, you have made progress on target number one. good thing you don’t notice target number two’s intense stare, because it might have truly taken you out.
sunghoon listens patiently as you explain the intricacies of online books versus published books on your way to the weekly event-planning meeting with your teacher.
except, imagine his surprise when you arrive and instead of their teacher there, waiting to cover what they had accomplished in the past week, there’s a bunch of other students?
you stop speaking at the same time sunghoon freezes, also noting the odd situation. simultaneously, the two of you back out to check the room number again.
nope, it’s the right room.
the two of you exchange a cautious glance before venturing to enter the room despite the students occupying it.
seemingly noticing the confusion apparent on both your faces, a boy with bright eyes who exudes a sort of feline air, (if that’s possible?!), speaks to you.
“are you two part of the event-planning committee?”
you nod gingerly, still feeling a bit like you’ve stepped into the twilight zone, “yes?”
the end of the word pitches up, coming across as a question rather than a response. the boy just smiles kindly.
“apparently, we’re having a monthly meeting with every class’s representatives,” he explains.
you feel comfortable enough to lead sunghoon into sitting where the boy is, although there are three others clustered there, not really interested by newcomers. there are also other groups scattered around the empty classroom, but you don’t think inserting yourself in any of them would be a good idea, given that they hadn’t looked up in the least when you entered.
they nod at you when the two of you sit down, but leave the introductions to the boy who spoke. it doesn’t escape your notice that literally all of their gazes hang onto sunghoon for a bit before looking away.
you’re starting to believe there’s some kind of lore, for lack of better words, behind why sunghoon is mildly ostracised amongst the school and yet also has an incredibly high love count.
you tear your gaze away from the other boys, however, when the boy who greeted you speaks.
“i’m jungwon, this is sunoo, this is ni-ki, and this is heeseung,” jungwon gestures to each of the boys respectively, who do some sort of acknowledgement upon being mentioned.
“nice to meet you! i’m y/n,” you pause looking over to sunghoon, who looks like there about a million other places he’d rather be right now, “and this is sunghoon.”
you ignore the gnawing idea that they definitely know who sunghoon is and don’t look too keen on meeting him.
instead, you focus on the bright smile you receive from jungwon, “nice to meet you too, so i guess you’re a second year then?”
he’s most likely referring to the fact that you’re with sunghoon, but you respond without acknowledging it, “yes! i transferred here a couple months ago, though.”
jungwon nods, “makes sense why i haven’t seen you around then, ni-ki here is a transfer too!”
he ruffles said boy’s hair while he says so, ignoring ni-ki’s yelp and complaining that he’s ruining his styled hair. ni-ki doesn’t retaliate though, too absorbed in whatever game he’s playing on his switch right now.
“so,” you attempt to speak casually, “what are we all waiting for?”
this time it’s sunoo, if you remember correctly, who pipes up, “the teacher who initiated this event!”
he continues with an eye-roll, “real classy of him to be running late after emphasizing how important being on time was.”
you smile, endeared by both of the boys' behaviour. it seems jungwon and his group of friends have a lot of personality. even heeseung, who looks to be on another plane of existence thanks to his zoning out.
ni-ki mutters a curse when he loses the level yet again, shoving the switch into heeseung’s chest petulantly, “fine, you can do it for me.”
heeseung just gives a smug smirk back as he gets to accomplishing what ni-ki was unable to do in your short time in the classroom. now that his attention is free, ni-ki finally gives the two of you a good look.
“so how’d you get drafted onto the committee, volunteered or voluntold?” he waggles his eyebrows slightly, and you smile at the clear attempt to be friendly.
you nudge sunghoon’s hand gently, trying to see if he’d like to answer, but when a second goes by, you speak up instead, not wanting the boy to go unanswered.
“voluntold,” you speak with faux dramatics, satisfied to hear a chuckle from heeseung even as he plays and smiles from the other boys.
“yeah, same,” sunoo mourns, pouting exaggeratedly.
you venture a questioning glance towards sunghoon, curious as to why he’s gone back into his shell. noting that the boys have become absorbed into a conversation that you are evidently welcome to join, but does not centre around you, you pull your phone out to send a message.
you: what’s up with you?
when sunghoon feels a buzz in his pocket, he glances at you curiously, putting the dots together. a small smile makes its home on his face when reading, before he responds.
park sunghoon: Contrary to what you might believe, I still don’t like hanging out with people
park sunghoon: This school is unkind
the kindness thing had sort of become an inside joke between the two of you by now, so you could recognize that he’s being playful, but at the same time an undercurrent of truth seemed to run behind it.
instead, you just send a quick response before visibly putting your phone away.
you: they seem nice though, just give it a try.
sunghoon doesn’t respond, knowing you wouldn’t see it anyway. he does, however, consider the suggestion. he’s entirely conflicted. you don’t know what he’s gone through before you transferred here. at the same time, none of these boys are involved with that incident.
maybe you’re onto something.
for now though, he stays silent, content to watch you interact and bond with these people instead. even though he’s seen it before, your ease in human connection is truly something astonishing to witness.
it’s a gift not many have, to be able to recognize boundaries and communicate at a level that matches your conversation partner.
to your surprise, it’s heeseung who’s been relatively quiet compared to the younger boys until now who suggests exchanging social media. sunghoon raises a brow, but says nothing from where he’s leaning against a desk.
after you’ve given the boys your account, you’re about to perhaps try and suggest exchanging numbers as well so you could include sunghoon, but before you can say anything, a teacher walks in.
presumably the teacher sunoo had been shading earlier.
he talks about compiling everyone’s efforts so far, and so the next hour is spent basically catching up the entire committee on the progress each team has made towards the festival.
evidently, this does not go as well as expected, because the man listens to each recounting with a slight frown, noting that several teams had been exploring the same things and basically doing tasks that others had already done.
he shakes his head as he speaks, “this structure is very inefficient, we’re repeating work like this. instead, moving forward i’ll be dividing you into teams targeted towards different aspects.”
the teacher goes on to make several divisions, including accommodations towards different disabilities, vendors, decoration, entertainment, and the like.
he hesitates, seemingly making a choice between two equally conflicting options, “you can all choose your own groups, i suppose. based on the people here, each team will have five or six people.”
your eyes immediately find sunghoon’s, who’s done the same, before snapping to the other boys nearby after a few seconds. the agreement that you’d be a team seems to fall even without any words.
in the end, you go up with jungwon to write down all of your names under the ‘promotion’ task force. it seems the conflict you had earlier has been solved as, being a team, the six of you have to exchange numbers to make a group chat anyways.
you smile, beyond elated at the possibility of actually having friends, and not ones who behave strangely like sunghoon and jake.
more than that, though, is happiness at the possibility of sunghoon gaining more connections as well. maybe it’s not your place, but sometimes you look at sunghoon and you feel an immense aura of loneliness.
and it would make you incredibly happy to see sunghoon happy, to see him learn that kindness isn’t so uncommon. because admittedly, at this point you are friends.
although you’ve started speaking to the other boys more after that fateful meeting, you had reckoned you’re more on the level of acquaintances.
apparently not, because during your wandering (jake had some shoot to go to, leaving you unable to have lunch with him) near the gardens outside, you caught their attention. hell, you didn’t even know they hung out here during lunch time, but you supposed it only made sense considering you had never seen them inside before.
you also hadn’t expected said observation to lead jungwon to calling you to them with a, “hey, y/n, over here!”
you look around in confusion, before pointing at yourself with confusion.
sunoo laughs, “no, the other y/n behind you.”
despite knowing it’s a sarcastic joke, you play along and whip your head to look behind you, and gasp loudly at a supposed second y/n.
a shy smile lights up your face when you hear laughter. so you are funny, you had started to think you had lost it with the way you had remained absolutely friendless for so long.
you make your way over to the group, desperately hoping they won’t notice you’re alone.
of course, this doesn’t happen.
“where were you going?” ni-ki questions, not unkind, but curious.
you cough, a little embarrassed, “the single friend i’ve managed to make so far has other plans today, so i’ve been abandoned…”
heeseung raises a brow, “i think i saw sunghoon sitting alone by the west end entrance earlier though?”
you shake your head, a little embarrassed, “not him, we’re friends, but we’ve never really had lunch together because i don’t know if he wants to?”
jungwon nods with understanding, “he’s always been a bit of a lone wolf, i was surprised to see him so comfortable with you at the meeting.”
“comfortable?” you laugh a bit, thinking he’s making a joke, but no, the boy is serious.
“well, yeah, usually sunghoon’s in a bad mood.”
he mutters an ‘understandably,’ but then raises his voice again, “but he seemed very calm and at peace. i don’t know.”
jungwon shrugs slightly, ending off with, “just my thoughts.”
sunoo watches the exchange with keen eyes, noting your demeanour and reaction to all of this.
he brings out a bright smile to speak, “anyway, forget that for now, sit with us! now heeseung won’t look like a creep hanging out with first years despite being a third year.”
heeseung yelps with indignation, “hey! if i recall correctly, ni-ki over here is the one who begged me to join you guys. i have third year friends too!”
ni-ki rushes to defend himself, “because you’re the captain of the basketball team! if they see me hanging out with you, they’ll think ‘oh, he used to be captain’s friend’ when we’re deciding the captain next year.”
heeseung shakes his head, “see, they just use you.”
you hold your hand out for a fist bump from the teen, laughing at the third year’s scandalized expression, “he’s just trying to be a nepo-baby. i don’t see an issue.”
jungwon laughs, “that’s not– well, i guess.”
you have an incredibly enjoyable lunch with the boys, sunoo making sure to let you know you’re always welcome to eat with them. they’d usually be out here, but if they aren’t you should shoot a text and they’d let you know where they are.
as he speaks, a chime comes from your backpack, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from pulling the flip phone phone out and smashing it on the concrete.
you know it’s that stupid phone because yours is currently in your pocket. while you’re tempted to see whatever taunt the entity has left you now, you’re not keen on shooting your blood pressure through the roof.
so there it lies, in your backpack, ignored as you laugh along with the boys’ jokes and converse with them.
life at decelis is finally looking good.
despite the boys’ insistence that sunghoon seems to be comfortable with you, you can’t shake off the fear of bothering him.
sure, they think he looks like he enjoys being in your presence, but considering what you know about sunghoon, you’re unsure. which is why the next time jake’s unable to have lunch together (another photoshoot.) and you’re left alone, you hem and haw.
conflicted between sitting next to sunghoon or sending the boys a text like they had encouraged you to do, instead you end up doing neither and glare holes into sunghoon’s lunch.
unfortunately, as anyone would, sunghoon notices the intense gaze being levelled at him and catches your eye, startling you. he raises an eyebrow, both amused and exasperated by your focus.
you shake your head as sort of a ‘it’s nothing, disregard.’
of course, sunghoon doesn’t care and he gestures you over anyways. you sigh, well whether you like it or not the choice is made for you now.
you make your way over to sunghoon’s desk, trying hard not to focus on your fellow classmates’ curious eyes and whispers. yah, sunghoon is such a headache.
he doesn’t speak even when you arrive, staring at you until you pull a chair to sit across from him at his desk.
“so what was the laser focus for,” sunghoon’s tone seems to be teasing, but you can’t exactly discern if you’re right.
you mumble, “was wondering if we should use this time to speak,” and then you notice his blank stare and panic, backtracking a bit.
“i mean. about planning for the festival.”
“planning,” somehow sunghoon doesn’t seem convinced and you don’t want to figure out why that is.
you still don’t meet his eyes, “right.”
“without the rest of our team,” ah, there it is.
you nervously laugh it off though, “yeah, that’s why i was considering it, we’d have to find the others as well.”
you wonder how speaking to sunghoon had seemed so easy before, when now it felt like his eyes are capable of gazing uncomfortably deep into your soul. he looks around the classroom, noticing several people jerk their attention away after being caught, and rolls his eyes.
sunghoon gets up, which wow, you knew maybe you aren’t the best company, but that’s a tad rude?
to your surprise however, he looks expectantly at you when he’s standing.
“let’s go for a walk,” sunghoon finally says when it seems the brain waves he’s sending your way aren’t being received.
you nod dumbly, a little stunned as you follow him out of the classroom.
when you’re a good distance away and now roaming the sparse halls, sunghoon finally speaks.
“there were way too many people paying attention,” he sighs, “i’ll never understand the interest in other people’s business.”
you bite back the retort that it’s less other people’s business, and more his business they’re interested in, fearing this talkative (for him) mood sunghoon’s in will disappear.
and despite your initial reasoning that this interaction is for the event, you don’t bring up the planning at all, instead choosing to mention that your neighbours got a dog instead, and that it kept you up at night.
sunghoon’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of topic being completely unrelated to the festival, but he chooses to simply respond to what you’ve said instead.
and so you make rounds, talking about anything but the event. embarrassingly enough, you even spot your team members at one point, although sunghoon doesn’t notice them and it seems jungwon’s the only one who notices you, sunoo being in an animated discussion with ni-ki and heeseung being missing.
he smirks at the two of you, while you just narrow your eyes, daring him to say something. jungwon shakes his head and looks away, letting you off the hook for now, but definitely planning on bringing it up later.
well. that’s later you’s problem. for now you can relax and enjoy the rich timber of sunghoon’s voice along with the admittedly pleasant decelis atmosphere.
you guess its inherent clique-y-ness isn’t so bad once you actually have people to hang out with.
now that you have sunghoon to hang out with. you’ve spoken and interacted with sunghoon countless times over the past month, but this is the first time you feel that the circumstances with the event planning have nothing to do with it. like sunghoon actually enjoys your company.
so of course you have to open your big mouth and ruin that.
in an attempt to prolong the conversation, even as the toll of the bell looms closer, you say the following:
“by the way, did you know there’s a skating competition happening at the rink near decelis this weekend?”
immediately, it’s as if the vitality has been drained from sunghoon.
he freezes, then when you stop walking as well, he puts on a neutral expression but it looks wrong. forced.
“really? that’s… cool.”
you furrow your brows, “is something wrong?”
and wow, that’s something sunghoon’s wanted someone to care about for years. for just one person to look at park sunghoon and not see an ice skater, incapable of (forbidden from) messing up. for them to see a human being pushed to the brink, desperate to live up to the expectations.
just for someone to ask, even.
he chuckles sardonically, “no. yes. i don’t know.”
“do you want to… talk about it?” you venture tentatively.
sunghoon shakes his head, “no.”
but then he adds on after a few seconds, “not now at least.”
right before you’re set to enter the classroom, sunghoon grasps your shoulder and pulls you back gently to mutter. you stiffen, his mouth is way too close to your ear, it feels intimate.
“thank you for asking,” he pauses, “and caring.”
before you can compose a response, he lets go of your shoulder and brushes past you to rush inside.
you grasp at your ear robotically, eyes wide, and inexplicably flustered. you didn’t know why you felt so affected, but it’s a euphoric feeling.
after several last minute commitments and cancellations, it’s finally time for you to eat lunch with jake again. admittedly, while you want to get pissed off at the guy for blowing you off several times in a row, you can’t.
in your opinion, it’s understandable that he doesn’t have much time to dedicate outside of his literal job. although with how often he’s running off and missing school, you’re surprised it’s still legal.
aren’t there some child labour laws that should be getting enforced?
regardless, it’s been around a week since you’ve last seen jake, and you’re not ashamed to admit you’re excited to see him again.
you wait in yet another of decelis’ storage closets, this time you and jake actually planning to meet there instead of happening to meet or getting dragged there.
while you wait you decide to examine your surroundings with a bored gaze. nothing interesting, except for the fine film of dust coating everything and causing you to sneeze every five seconds.
it seems this closet is especially unused.
unfortunately, jake enters during a loud sneezing fit and it’s evident on his face that it’s all he can do to stop himself from bursting into laughter at your state.
he shakes his head, amused, “i think we should probably go out to eat.”
“wait no, i’m fine! i just–” you interrupt yourself with a thunderous sneeze, “need to get used to it…”
this time the gaze he levels at you is deadpan, as sort of a ‘really…?’
but to save you from embarrassment, jake disregards the blatant lie, “it’s fine, i forgot to pack a lunch anyway. let’s go.”
you sigh, getting off the floor and only mildly cringing at the dirt that’s collected upon you during your stay in the space. maybe jake is on to something; you can only imagine how many diseases you’re possibly contracting.
“so, where were you thinking?” you ask curiously, struggling a bit to keep pace with jake’s speed.
if sunghoon is like the winter: cool, arid, and measured, jake is the summer: energetic, loud, and headlong.
you wonder what would happen if the two were to meet, a friendship for the ages, or an intense showdown? of the unstoppable force versus immovable object kind. you’re pondering who would be which when you’re pulled back to reality by a hand waving in front of your face.
“hellooo?” this doesn’t seem to be jake’s first time calling you.
you respond quickly, embarrassed, “yes, sorry?”
he snorts, “man, i thought you were just quiet because you were hungry, but you were on a whole other planet just now.”
any possible protest is cut off when you realize the two of you have actually arrived at some of the mom-and-pop restaurants that had set up near decelis, attracted by the hub of student activity and guaranteed customers.
you muse, “hmm, will we make it back in time?”
“doesn’t matter,” jake’s smile is something between mischievous and eager, “what’s one skipped class?”
you smack his arm slightly, “you of all people have no right to say that, you’ve probably attended what, six classes so far?”
when jake gasps in mock offense, claiming he’s not that bad, you give him an unimpressed stare.
“do you even know your teacher’s name?” you squint at the boy.
“of course, it’s…” jake flounders, before whining, “you gave me a hard one.”
“sure i did,” you roll your eyes, “have you chosen what you want to eat yet?”
jake’s responding silence tells you everything you need to know, his sheepish gaze meeting yours when you glance at him.
“what’s good here?” he ventures.
you shake your head, exasperated, “i bet you hadn’t even looked at the menu yet.”
“i heard their yangnyeom chicken slaps, though,” you add on, deciding to grant him mercy.
jake hums in acknowledgement, but he looks a bit… hesitant.
then it clicks, “wait, are you not allowed to eat stuff like that?”
he is a model after all…
seemingly caught, jake looks at you in surprise, before rushing to deny, “no! if it’s just once…”
you shake your head, “i was planning on just eating this later, but i had some bibimbap for lunch if you want to eat that?”
it would be considerably healthier after all.
and if you had any doubts earlier, the exhale of relief that jake lets out is enough to tell you that you made the right choice.
(unfortunately you lose in another battle for paying for your food; although this time you genuinely feel you have no grounds as jake insists it's the least he can do after taking your lunch. touché.)
when you eventually receive your order and settle down at an outdoor picnic bench with jake, you pull out your tupperware, a pair of chopsticks, and a spoon to give to him while speaking.
“it’s really not my business, but are you okay with such a strict diet?”
jake shrugs, “it’s alright. it’s not like i never eat anything i want to, but sometimes it is frustrating.”
you look at him curiously, setting up your own food, “you like modelling in general, though?”
jake pauses, thinking it through thoroughly for the first time in a while, “... the verdict is still up. it can be very satisfying. and yet i can’t decide if it’s worth the sacrifices it comes with. this shit tastes so good by the way, did your mom make this?”
you laugh at the dichotomy between his dialogues, only laughing harder when jake sends a confused puppy-esque look your way.
eventually upon calming down, you let him know, “actually, i made it. and by sacrifices do you mean like. missing out on school?”
jake’s jaw drops open slightly, “no way, you made this?”
you narrow your eyes, “what, you don’t think i can?”
he laughs, “no it’s just… you should open a restaurant or something. it tastes like home.”
the wistful light in his eyes leads you to believe you should probably leave the earlier line of questioning alone, so you don’t bring it up.
still, after a few moments of eating in quiet peace, jake speaks up, “it’s less school and more… i miss having friends. i used to be on the football team in middle school, and we would all goof around. i can’t get that anywhere now.”
“nowhere?”
he sighs, “you know, i meant it when i said people only see a pretty face, earlier. if guys aren’t pissed off at me because their crush likes me, they’re jealous that i get good grades. or some other inane bullshit.”
you consider his words, before speaking quietly, “i think you just have to find the right people.”
“believe me,” jake rests his cheek onto one of his palms, leaning an elbow on the table, “i’ve tried.”
and maybe it’s not your place, but you cautiously suggest, “actually, the friends i’ve made here have been nothing but kind and nonjudgmental.”
now jake is looking at you with suspicion, “you’ve only been here a couple months! and just a little bit ago you were saying you had no friends. zero.”
you roll your eyes, “well you don’t have to rub it in. and yeah, i probably don’t know the extent of their character, but sometimes you can just tell. the kindness someone shows you when they have absolutely no reason to, it sticks. and also i’ve been friends with one of them for over a month now!”
the boy mutters, “very impressive,” with sarcasm, but he seriously considers what you’re saying.
sure, you could be wrong, but the feeling you're describing is the same one he had about you. that ‘this is a good person, and i’ll remember them for the rest of my life.’
jake gives in, “alright, introduce me to your friends.”
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