Chapter Text

If there was any other person beside his family and friends Jungwon loved deeply, it would have had to be Choi Hara, his girlfriend of one year. She was his high school sweetheart (very late), someone he liked with all of his dramatic, throbbing teenage heart. Someone he thought he could lean on.

She was someone he found solace in as he struggled against the everlasting demands of his hellish teachers and, overall, school life. Someone he treasured. Was, because if someone were to ask Jungwon who he loathes the most at the moment, the answer would still be Choi Hara — of course, with the addition of the guy seated opposite to her who’s smiling like an overgrown human-fox hybrid, holding his cup of coffee just inches away from his face.

Fucker.

Jungwon groans, his hand itching to jam the coffee cup from below, smack dab in the middle of the guy’s stupidly cool face (though Jungwon would never admit that even if Death held him in a chokehold). He entertains the idea, wondering how he should do it (whether he should he shove it using his palm or uppercut it with his fist) before he reels himself in through a forced inhale, albeit not without his brows twitching violently from the restraint that is.

See, Choi Hara, his girlfriend of a year, turns out, has been cheating on him — manipulating him for who knows how long, leading him on with the promise of something great after they’d finish their degrees. Soft, rushed, whispered promises, glazed in the haze of post…

God, Jungwon should have known better. Curse him for being such a stupid romantic.

Needless to say, he is baffled and, quite frankly, seething in rage. Never in their relationship did he think Hara, with her sweet, sweet, innocent smile, would be capable of stabbing him in the ass with something like this.

Cheating! Infidelity! Deceit! Adultery! Two-timing!

So many words to describe such heinous injustice.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. If prior to the state of knowledgeable-ness he has now, he would have laughed at anyone (Sunoo, his best friend, primarily, almost only at him) who’d try to insinuate the idea. But now, with the irritating, not to mention horribly wrong, blatant display of affection Hara and the other guy are engaged in, and the things he knows, Jungwon is in no laughing mood — nor does he have any good reason to refute anything incriminating thrown at Hara’s person.

Whoever the other guy is, Jungwon wants to gut him and feed him to lions. He positively wants to wrap his arm around the other man’s throat and strangle him to death. On the other hand, he wants to give Hara a heavy-handed slap (dramatic, but it works); enough to make her head turn acutely to the side, maybe even cause dislocation. Because — why? Why? He’s been nothing but a good boyfriend; he has always tried his best and gave his all despite him-specific constraints.

He’d given Hara all he could, all he’s able to. It sounds selfish and demanding of him, like he’s a petulant jerk requesting so adamantly, but Jungwon feels that he at least deserves an explanation for why things are going the way they are.

Jungwon is angry, yes. He’s an inch away from shaking. He wants to hurt them both and make them pay for everything. He wants to run them over and laugh at their faces as they crawl to him crippled and in pain, which — morbid. He wants to make their lives living hell. Jungwon wants to do all that and more; he’s hurt. He’s hurt but he cares for her, still. No matter how much Hara is hurting him by doing the thing she’s doing, he’d never bear to see her hurt because of his own misdeeds or evil contrivance.

He liked her. Still cares for her, even just the littlest bit, even in his heartbreak, and despite his heart screaming in agony and anger, it would be worse to see Hara cry because of him.

“You’re so funny, Jay-ah!” There she goes, giggling, daintily curving inwardly as she reaches a hand to slap the man — Jay, apparently — on his elbow. She’s radiant and bright, and the afternoon light coming from the outside hits her just right it sends Jungwon’s heart in a flurry, and she does it all while looking at another man. “I like that about you, you know that?”

The guy smiles at her, takes her hand gently, and kisses behind her palm, a warm blush on his face. Yet he still manages to look every bit cool and collected.

Fucker.

Jungwon recoils, feeling his eyes heat up at the statement. His head burns at the sight before him.

Knowing Hara is cheating and seeing it in action really are two different things; Jungwon should have believed Sunoo when he chastised him for wanting to see it for himself. But he wanted to. He needed to. He’s been pondering about it for a while now, the idea of breaking up with Hara, and felt like it would be the best to gauge out his competition — essentially have some sort closure.

He just isn’t sure he needs to, anymore, if he can even bear to see it through.

—

“Your heart is too big for your own good, Wonie.”

Sunoo offers a comforting pat on Jungwon’s back, slightly shifting in his place to better crouch down on the raised cement of the sidewalk.

“You’re also really stupidly in love with her you fail to see the faults of your relationship.” His tone isn’t chastising, simply fond and caring with a strong tinge of concern, but it successfully fuels another fit of tears from Jungwon. How softly Sunoo’s hand rubs over his back doesn’t help either.

The sun had set and the evening had just started to bloom, dark violets and pink stretching across the sky. After Jungwon had made his escape from that damned coffee place, he had immediately contacted Sunoo. Despite his resolve to be strong and collected, he was on the verge of tears and bordered a fit of panic.

Sunoo of course, the worrywart that he is, panicked and rushed to him. He was nearby, in university with his boyfriend Riki (and their other best friend) in a meeting for their organization, luckily. Initially, Jungwon was against the idea, not wanting to bother his best friends with his stupid thing. But upon being engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, he relented and melted away into a puddle of thick tears, folding himself small into Sunoo’s warm embrace.

After a little crying, at an appropriate distance away from the café, he was promptly dragged to the convenience store they frequent for their occasional weekend R-n’-R snacks. Thus, leads him to his current situation: weeping his reddened, puffy eyes out, Sunoo on his right and Riki on his left, ice cream cones loose in their hands.

“Sunoo—” he sniffles, palming his eyes to rid them of fresh tears and wincing when even the most moderate of pressures he exerts seems to become more painful than the last “—she said she loves me.” The ice cream on his free hand is running down on his fingers but he barely cares fixing the mess. But, then he stares too hard at the white liquid dripping down his skin and the frown marring his lips deepens, unable to stop himself from spiraling.

Frustrated, he chomps down on the melted vanilla. Immediately, the striking chill of the ice cream sears through his teeth and spreads to the whole of his mouth, eliciting a sad, pathetic, airy wince as he fights back tears again.

Nothing’s right. Everything’s going wrong. Even the fucking ice cream can’t cooperate with me. Jungwon sucks in a breath, but it doesn’t work because his sobbing only makes it harder for him to do anything other than struggle to not choke.

Am I destined to live an unhappy life? He curls to himself and bawls.

Really, it’s somewhat unbecoming of a college freshman to be crying his soul out on the street, just outside a convenience store with people going to and from the area, curiously sparing the three of them glances. Even more so getting upset over something so painfully normal as melting ice cream. But Jungwon’s emotions are a whack and, whether or not he’d admit it aloud, he’s beyond glad he has Sunoo and Riki by his side to get through it.

“Come on, hyung. Even I can, as much as I hate hurting you, admit that she was awfully fishy,” Riki says, all wise-sounding, as he licks a stripe of his chocolate ice cream, his brows delicately downturned. His other hand, just like Sunoo’s, is on Jungwon’s back, rubbing comforting circles. “I mean, based on what I saw, she literally was doing the least.”

Jungwon glares at him, and Riki responds by raising his arms up in faux surrender, but he thinks about all the tepid responses he’s been getting from Hara and relents. Shying his gaze away to the lamppost opposite their side of the street, he fights to ward off negative thoughts from penetrating his consciousness.

“You don’t know that,” he tries to defend but, ultimately, he knows he’s not doing a spectacular job based on the cold sigh the other returns. “Maybe it’s just a phase, you know? Couples are bound to want some space after dating for so long… right?” he follows, brows furrowing in subconscious disbelief contrary to his adamancy in wanting to believe his own reasoning.

True. Hara and he had been dating for a year, so it should only be normal for them to experience rough patches here and there. Jungwon guesses this thing would be it. Maybe there’s still a chance. Maybe he could still fix it. Maybe they don’t need to break up.

“It is.”

Sunoo’s words make Jungwon spare him a glance, foolishly hoping that maybe he’d have his support. Everything’s blurry, like he’s in a dream-like haze, but the concern on Sunoo’s face is stark clear in Jungwon’s mind. With half a mind, he leans in to press the side of his head atop his friend’s shoulder, immediately knowing the other probably doesn’t.

“But I also know space shouldn’t include seeing another person,” Sunoo ultimately adds, a contrite look on his face, the littlest of stretches on his lips that seems to turn down more and more with every passing moment. Slowly, he combs his fingers through Jungwon’s hair, maneuvering through black strands with minimal effort.

“Seriously, I hate seeing you like this, Won. I know it’s not my place to tell you but I really — and I mean really — hope you’re actually considering breaking up with her.”

Jungwon wants to rebut with something, wants to protect Hara with anything, but he couldn’t find his words. Try hard as he might, there’s little material in his arsenal. And, shamefully, he considered it, after all, breaking up with her; he was thinking of investigating and scoping out their situation, whether she’d be better off with the other guy; and regardless of that, he doesn’t know how to defend her with everything that’s been going on lately.

Deep inside, he knows Sunoo only care — and that he and Riki make good points.

Hara has been acting oddly distant since about four months into their relationship. It happened after they had a little spat because Jungwon had been too busy with his examinations. She demanded time and, though Jungwon so badly wanted to give himself to her, he couldn’t exactly neglect his studies either. His scholarship depends on the fruits of his effort and, taking into consideration their promises of a life together after college, Jungwon didn’t want to screw it up.

He had been thinking about their long-term happiness because he knows short-term rewards could only do so much. And he was convinced Hara changed her mind, too, after she came around to answering his messages, exactly a week and a half after she said she wanted time to cool off. He was convinced she saw his reasoning. Turns out he was being played for a fool — a happy, stupid, willing fool.

“I was — am. I don’t know.” Jungwon sighs, exceedingly confused, trying to hold himself together. Riki has stopped patting his back, now, and had settled to eating his ice cream in fixed focus, eyes big and invested. Sunoo has since taken a proper sit, too, from initially crouching-sitting. “I keep thinking I could fix this. I keep thinking maybe we shouldn’t need to break up but… but…”

There’s a bout of heaviness that settles deep in Jungwon’s chest, hard and stony and makes it harder for him to breathe. He shakes his head and wills away the fresh hotness rounding in his eyes. He swallows the lump threatening to tear from his throat. “I keep thinking that it’s okay to be a fool for longer if I could still be with her.”

Riki, in all his awkward, gangly charm, pulls him in for a snuggly side hug. Jungwon feels him frown more than sees as the other perches the side of his face atop his head, making shaking motions that ruffle Jungwon’s hair. “I agree with Sunoo-hyung, hyung. I just know you’d be better without her,” he says, too comfortingly that it makes Jungwon’s breath hitch in pain. “You have so much love to give and, frankly, sorry for saying this but, I don’t think she’s the right person you should devote yourself to.”

A huff, and Sunoo’s ushering the three of them up, tight lips and comforting expression in tow. “Come on, why don’t we go home for today so Riki and I can fix you a good meal.”

—————

Jungwon takes a few more days to think about it, even though his final resolve should’ve been an easy choice, all things considered. But, with his adamancy to hold on to that tiny sliver of hope he chose (chooses?) to believe in, he puts off his decision-making until the last minute. Even now, as he wills an effort to stick to his plan, he’s still a tad unsure whether or not he actually wants to push through his resolve.

But, then again, he should know when to cut his losses. He’s attempting to gauge that out, now. Contrary to his constantly fluctuating ideas the past week (most which greatly favored Hara), Jungwon realized that Hara and him are more broken than he’d initially thought. After all, whenever he texts her, she only shoots back short, generic replies without making any actual effort to engage in conversation. That and that she does the bare minimum in checking up on him; even though he still ends up worrying about her and chiming in on her messages as often as he could make it be.

Regardless of his hurt, and his new plan, Jungwon still doesn’t want to leave Hara to loose uncaring hands. Even if she’s doing him wrong, Jungwon thinks she still deserves to be happy. If not with him, then with someone else who’s fitting; who could take care of her and give her the best.

Which is why he’s re-pursuing the investigation he left pending after he had ran out of the café the last time.

It’s silly, stupid — very stupid and unnecessary, extreme idiotism as per Sunoo’s words which Jungwon waved off with a determined nod — but he needs to know whether Jay, as much as he hates even the mention of the guy’s name, could do him better.

As what he [presently, limitedly] knows, after gathering intel from various sources (Wonyoung and Lily, mainly, who’re classmates of his), Jay is a freshman in Fashion Design who’s, unexpectedly, famous because he’d been able to amass a number of accolades even before entering college, also because he’s the son of renowned painter Park Sara and fashion designer Park Taesung. Those and that he’s stupid hot — according to Lily’s word, that is.

Psh. So what? Jungwon had thought, inwardly rolling his eyes as he continued to feign interest in listening to another classmate, Sungchan, chime in and declare his adoration for The Fashion Icon of SKU, ‘the’ with a capital ‘T’. Ridiculous.

I bet he’s a good-for-nothing asshole riding off of his privileges.

Jungwon is certain. Jay — Park Jongseong, his full Korean name apparently — must definitively be an asshole, what with the stylish ensemble he wore the previous week, readily oozing an air of superiority and having a commanding presence. He must also be consciously aware of the fact that he’s actively engaging in an illicit affair with Hara. Jungwon knows he knows. It would be impossible for him not to.

Hara and Jungwon’s relationship isn’t a kept secret. They’re not flaunty about it, as per Hara’s request of privacy, but some people in Jungwon’s major definitely know who she is and who she is to him. Jay would have to be astronomically dense and dumb if he doesn’t.

Stealing someone’s partner like that — Jungwon thinks, scowling as he sides to a wall, still intently following the man who’s taken to stopping in front of a drink dispenser — what type of sick bastard gets off on knowing he wrecked a home?

Jungwon’s grip on his tote bag tightens.

Park fucking Jongseong, obviously.

He takes a critical eye to observe the guy, running his gaze up and down his overall presentation, in analysis. The home wrecker seems normal, all things considered. He dons an all-black attire that should otherwise scream ‘basic boy’ but makes him look like he’d just gotten out of a fashion show for trendy, casual streetwear, or like he’d been ripped straight from some high-end fashion catalogue. On his face plays a small, pensive frown as he slips in a bill and punches a few digits on the machine. And it should, at the very least, mar his features but it doesn’t. He still looks irritatingly chic.

Just as he bends down to grab the canned drink he’d punched the digits for, a girl approaches him. Timid, with a soft smile on her face, as she catches Jay’s (the asshole home wrecker’s) attention. Jungwon couldn’t tell what they’re talking about, but he’s pretty damn sure it’s something good based on the pretentiously sweet smile Jay gives her.

God, I wish I could punch him.

Quite frankly, Jungwon thought he’d be mature enough to just follow and observe, silent but perceptive. But now, what with seeing the peaceful mundanity of Jay’s life, seeing him live without experiencing the consequences of what he’s done, what he’s doing, makes Jungwon want to run to him and shove one strong punch to his jaw.

He’s not one for violence, and he almost never needs to resort to it to fix his problems, but the sight before him does things to his sanity. Isn’t stealing one girl enough? Jungwon’s hand itches to give a throw but he holds himself off from creating a scene.

As much as it’s pure evil what Jay and Hara are doing to him, Jungwon coming up to give a good blow without any explanation would just do more harm than good to himself and his cause. And with everything that’s riding on the squeaky cleanliness of his name on his university transcripts, he doesn’t want to mess anything more than necessary when need be.

He spins on his back and presses against the wall, taking his eyes off the pair to gather his bearings. He reasons himself out of bolting away and repeats inwardly his tentative plan. Follow, observe, approve, and break up — like a calming mantra. Except, it isn’t calming him down and instead just makes his head hurt even more. He doesn’t even know if he’d be able to stomach following the guy, who stole his girlfriend away from him, for even one more minute.

I could be studying right now. Instead I’m here fuck-all following a stupid — okay, Jungwon. Calm. Peace. You need to do this.

Thankfully, Jungwon does manage to convince himself after a few more moments of goal/mantra repetition. He takes a deep heady breath through his nose and musters a faux look of happiness; at least he hopes that’s how it looks like.

No problem at all, I can do this, he chirps inwardly, though, if anything, it’s more begrudging than anything else.

He’s ready to do it, approach him, but when he turns back neither the girl nor Jay are on the vicinity anymore. Jungwon gapes at the sudden loss.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake wh—”

“Hey, are you okay?”

He immediately whips his head towards the person who’d almost given him a heart attack, a shrill squeak distorting the rest of his words to an incoherent string of airy breaths. He grips a hand on his chest and supports one on the wall behind him.

“Don’t ever do that again, please,” he rambles out, not registering anything else aside from how fast his heart is rattling against his lungs. His eyes are trained at the man, but his panic doesn’t let his gaze focus on one thing. He looks familiar however, like Jungwon knows him, so he does little to put on an act. “For all you know, I could have a heart condition.”

The man looks at him weirdly, but the amused smile on his face says otherwise, and Jungwon couldn’t help shake the feeling he shouldn’t be acting the way he carelessly is. For a second he doesn’t get it and then he does and it rings in his mind that it’s Park fucking Jongseong he’s talking to; the home wrecker.

Jungwon recoils and, try hard as he might not to, his face sours.

It’s immediate the way he clenches his hand protectively; more so the way he shifts to a defensive stance. Came here to gloat? He grunts inwardly, putting a little distance between the two of them.

Jay’s eyes widen at the sudden aggression, easing himself back, and the friendly smile on his face fades to a curious part. His brows furrow, the rest of his face scrunched in confusion, and he looks lost as he tries to take a tentative step forward. He stops, like he’s collecting his awareness, and shoots an apologetic look.

Jungwon barely prevents himself from ranting before Jay speaks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.” He waves his hand in a placating manner, looking far guiltier than he should be for seemingly being concerned. An awkward, chopped laugh filters past him before he shrinks to himself. “It’s just that I noticed you were looking lost and distressed. I wanted to help.”

Narrowing his eyes incrementally, Jungwon tries to assess the situation. Jay is talking to him, in a friendly manner, with his tone soft like he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to. Like he doesn’t know him at all. His approach and look is oddly timid, unlike what Jungwon expected of him.

Huh?

“You don’t know me?” barrels past his mouth before he could even think about re-phrasing his words — or simply shutting up. He catches himself, but it’s already too late because Jay is looking at him with a contemplative gaze as if he’s trying his best to rack his memory for anything concerning Jungwon who, probably to him, appears like a weird stalker of some sort more than anything else.

He doesn’t know me? But—

“Not really?” Jay brings up a hand to scratch his nape, embarrassment painted on his face. “Have we met before? Or are you perhaps new here? Sorry if I’ve forgotten.”

Jungwon could only frown at that.

Jay looks thoroughly confused, without any hint of ingenuity marring his features, his eyes holding contact like he has nothing to hide. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying, Jungwon recognizes; contrary, he seems vastly different from the image he’d conjured of him in his mind.

Reeling, Jungwon swallows the rest of the bile bubbling in his throat. He shakes his head to rein his thoughts into one proper strand. He’s unable to organize the all the facts but one thing he does, for sure, know now is that Jay doesn’t know him. Jay doesn’t know him.

It could mean a lot of things, but Jay doesn’t know him.

“Uhm,” he starts, clearing his throat. He observes the way Jay innocently nods, as if in encouragement, and frowns even deeper inside his mind. It’s either he doesn’t know or he’s one hell of an actor; but something about his eyes tell Jungwon it could probably be the former. “I was lost. Yeah. I’m here to find a friend but I was too shy to ask around.”

The lie comes easily, with minimal stuttering on his part despite his confusion. Jungwon briefly shoots his sister a silent thanks for urging him to join all those school plays during middle school. The words seem to ease Jay who takes a relieved breath, the smile he’s lost re-appearing though rather softer now.

“Oh! I thought you might be new here, but that would be weird, right? School year’s almost over.” The way Jay laughs, once again, afterward is awkward and the way he bears a toothy grin makes him look like an overgrown child. But Jungwon has half the mind to focus on that little factoid, given how much of a whiplash he’s experiencing.

“So—” Jay continues, an ever-so-modest tilt of his head “—who are you looking for? I could show you around if you want.”

Nice. He’s nice.

Why is he so nice?! Jungwon panics (moderately) but tries his best not to show it on his face. The only sign he’s slipping is the somewhat guilty twitch his right eye makes as he continues to stare at the clueless guy.

If he doesn’t know, then is Hara playing him too? The thought lodges something at the base of his throat but he shakes it off before he could dwell on it any further. Jay first before anything follows — else he creates another mess he couldn’t handle.

Briefly, Jungwon shuffles through the list of Fashion Design students he had curated at the ready in his head; friends or acquaintances of his he could use as alibi. A mental ding sounds off when he settles on the perfect one.

“Do you know Chaeryeong? A friend of mine asked me to run an errand.”

Lies. Needless to say, Jungwon is telling (partial) lies. Chaeryeong is a friend and he does have something she borrowed from him, but there’s no actual rush in getting anything done. Nonetheless, Jungwon swallows his conscience with a perfect pop as he observes cognizance flash through the guy’s face.

“Lee Chaeryeong?” There’s mild surprise in Jay’s voice, and though it makes him appear rather lame (not that he is, Jungwon simply thinks it doesn’t match how edgy he looks like) he doesn’t make any effort to school his expression into something else.

The difference — the fucking difference — makes Jungwon feel slightly squeamish, given that his thoughts about the other guy hasn’t been particularly the best; today or any other day during the past weeks. Despite feeling like he shouldn’t be, he still feels substantially chastised by the small voice in his head that’s been slowly putting everything he knows into a half-baked diagram.

“Yeah.” It nearly comes out closer to being an ‘eep’. Curse him.

“She’s actually in one of my classes, which—” Jay turns to look down at his wrist, an expensive steel watch wrapped snug around it “—I’m headed to just about now, actually.” Then he looks up to smile at Jungwon again. “You wanna come with?”

Jungwon feels his skin crawl with how utterly, irrefutably, unreal the whole situation is, he nearly wraps his arms around himself to fight he shivers threatening to tear his façade of meek nonchalance. And, so, without any words he instead offers a solemn nod, unable to fully pull himself out of his self-induced trance.

With a motion Jay leads the two of them across his department area then building, passing through various structures before they ascend the stairs to get to the upper classrooms. Jungwon, ever-so-dedicated to his excuse, follows obediently, stuck between listening to and tuning out Jay’s tiny rambling about the weather or the part of the building they’re in.

But, of course, Jungwon knows the premises already; he’s sufficiently familiar, at least. He doesn’t come often but he does have friends who go to this area of the campus; he’s been here enough times to be able to call himself a proficient traveler.

Jay doesn’t ask him anything as they walk, mostly only sticking to acting like an accommodating tour guide, but Jungwon tries to contribute to their ‘conversation’, replying with short responses while trying not to shrivel up and die on the spot.

When they arrive in front of a lecture room, Jay turns to him with a little huff. He looks at him like he’s searching for something but Jungwon, unknowing of what is happening, could only return with a curious gaze. He holds off from asking.

It doesn’t last because Jay tears his eyes away to survey the inside from where they stand.

“Well,” he starts, sounding timid, “we’re here.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon replies dumbly through his lack of better words; or better train of thought, in general, “we are.”

Jay gives him a weird look, like he’s appraising him or something. But it easily fades away to an amused smile, his lips easily lifting to the sides but not showing any teeth.

“I’ll call her for you, will that be alright? Just wait here.”

Jungwon doesn’t even get to say anything or refuse his offer before the guy is turning back from him and walking away. For a moment he’s left to gape by himself with his hand partly reached out, before Jay comes to a halt just as he takes a couple of steps through the opened doors. With a swift turn, he makes his way back, stopping just shy of an arm’s length away.

“Here,” Jay says, and Jungwon notices the movement his arm makes. He looks down and sees a fruit drink being presented to him.

Brows furrowing, he looks at Jay quizzically. However, his dumb reaction doesn’t deter the warm look on the other’s face. Instead, he makes use his other hand to take Jungwon’s free one. There, he passes a relatively cold can, carefully guiding Jungwon’s finger around its girth afterwards.

“You can have it. I think you need it more than I do.” Then he flashes a concerned look. “See you around.” And then a polite smile before he’s trudging away, a finality to the awkward wave of his hand, presumably to go call Chaeryeong for whatever unnecessary appointment Jungwon had haphazardly set for the two of them in the name of his lies.

But Jungwon doesn’t register it. He keeps his eyes trained at the pink can he holds in his hand, his chest feeling oddly hot with something like melancholy or sticky sadness, maybe the faintest twinge of regret. The pink isn’t even hot or searing to the eyes but it still burns his retinas, its warmth coming to engulf the whole of his vision.

Strawberry Fuzz. The name, written in wonky cartoonish font, sits vibrant on the can. Jungwon isn’t sure he could look away.

He tries hard not to let his lips turn down and swallows whatever it was trying to claw its way out of his throat, blinking away the forming water in his eyes. Haphazardly, he thinks of throwing the can out of sight. But he doesn’t. Instead, his grip on it tightens.

Belatedly, as he walks back to his department, he realizes it’s the drink Jay got for himself.

—

“Remember when we guys thought that that guy, Jay, definitely knows Hara and I are in a relationship?” Jungwon paces around his and Sunoo’s dorm room, comfortably walking back and forth near the coffee table in his sweatpants, arms crossed and a hand working his chin. “I don’t think he does. He doesn’t even know who I am.”

He turns to Sunoo and Riki who have been huddled up under one huge Pororo blanket, so close together it would seem like the couch were an infinite expanse of space when it could barely fit three and a half people on it. Sunoo looks at him with no amusement whatsoever on his face while Riki, sweet Riki, shoots him with something that looks like moderate interest as he munches on chips.

“You guys know what this means? He doesn’t know who I—”

“Wonie.” There’s an edge to Sunoo’s voice when he calls out, sharp and trained, but it doesn’t sound chiding or condescending. Jungwon stops in his tracks and lightly slumps into himself, immediately knowing what tangent Sunoo would go on about.

“I love you, and you know I’ll always be here to pick you up when you need me to, but I’m saying you should just forgo your stalking and break up with her already,” he reasons, sounding awfully a lot like Jungwon’s father. “You’re only hurting yourself by doing something like this.”

“But—”

“Choose what’s best for you, Wonie. And it’s definitely not involving yourself even deeper in this mess that that backstabbing, cheating, pussy-ass bitch—”

“Calm down, hyung,” Riki eases.

“—sorry, girl, Hara, stirred up.”

Jungwon frowns at him but otherwise doesn’t comment any further. He knows the telltale signs of an angry Sunoo and he doesn’t want to exacerbate the growing scowl on his face any more than necessary. Scooting closer to his two friends, he plops down next to Sunoo, wiggling in because they have apparently no plans on adjusting to his presence.

He grabs a handful of chips from the bag in Riki’s hand and stuffs his mouth full, chewing obnoxiously before huffing. “She’s not a bitch, Sun,” he finally says, rolling his eyes. “She was sweet, and loving, and kind.”

That’s the image he’s conjured of her in his mind: Hara as this warm person who deserves all the love he could give. Sure, she has her bad days and, at moments, act out, but who doesn’t, right? It’s normal to have emotions, likes and dislikes, and different facets of yourself. Jungwon doesn’t think he’d last long with Hara if she were truly a vile person.

Sunoo groans beside him, gracing him a particularly rough shove at the shoulder. When he looks him eye to eye, Jungwon sees certainty in Sunoo’s — like he knows what he’s saying is a factual thing drafted by the universe itself and not some wild speculation. “Because that’s what she wants you to see, Wonie. I mean, come on, you can’t possibly deny how she just gets angry for no particular reason.”

Looking away, Jungwon bites his lower lip. Don’t think about it.

“Yeah, I remember that time hyung gifted her the wrong top. She didn’t speak to him for days,” Riki says, his look pensive before he shakes his head, a shiver running down his body, evident in the way he lightly shakes beside Sunoo who gives Jungwon a knowing look.

“But that was my fault—”

“Not exactly, no, not at all. I remember her showing you two tops — through chat, damn she couldn’t be bothered at all — that she ‘wanted to buy but couldn’t’. You did your homework and saved money but got the cheaper one.” Sunoo’s eye twitches at his own words, his gaze far away as he bores holes on Jungwon’s own. “Case in point, that girl is vapid money grubber and she’s only good to you when you serve a purpose.”

Ouch.

Jungwon recoils, the fact he’s been dreading to confront slapping him in the face with a force close to that of a car collision, or maybe a nuclear explosion. Leave it to Sunoo not to mince his words when they matter.

Loathe as he to even admit, he knew something was amiss. A tiny part of him recognized that, saw through it with every tight-lipped smile Hara gave him, but didn’t want to entertain the idea of his (first and only ever) girlfriend only using him. Even now, as he gathers his knees to fold in on himself, a huge part of him still wants to reject the insinuated, but facts-based, idea.

“I know, Won, you care for her. I spent enough time watching you pine over her to know you do, but you need to see things as they are.” There’s a comforting pat on his back that follows. “I didn’t like her, but I didn’t want to say anything bad since you obviously care so much about her.”

Jungwon willfully ignores the scratchiness in his throat, burying himself in the embrace that Sunoo engulfs him in. He tries not to tear up, because that’s what he’s only been doing best these days, but some wetness still slip out of his careful control, hot and filled with so much misery as they trail sad little tracks down his cheeks.

“I just — I didn’t think it would be like this.” Jungwon sniffles, his fingers coming to fiddle with the fabric of his sweatpants, minutely stuttering his words as the haze of his vision increases exponentially. “I was hoping it wasn’t, but it is.”

He knows he has a penchant towards being moderately naïve; he likes to see the good in people rather than the bad, more often than not subconsciously disregarding warning signs the universe personally throws at him. Jungwon isn’t a saint, but he tries to be good-natured. He has moments where he slips up, yes, but those are often in response to extreme emotions or stress.

Just like his hostility towards Jay — god, he didn’t even know of him.

“It is. And now that you know better, you really need to let her go without putting much of a fuss. God knows how she doesn’t deserve it.” Riki looks to him solemnly and gives a nod in agreement to Sunoo’s words. “But here you are trying to ‘investigate and gauge out your competition before admitting to defeat’ like, and I’m sorry to say this, an idiot when you shouldn’t really be caring about what happens to her after all she’s putting you through.”

The air thrums with the heaviness of Sunoo’s words, charged with a level of truth Jungwon couldn’t shy from even if he wanted to. He absorbs the string of words that spell out his truth. It’s not hard, met with only a little bout of resistance, because in his mind plays every possible reason why he should finally choose to disengage from his current predicament.

The tiny arguments escalating to her ignoring him; the convenience of her happiness; the way she barely even responds anymore, to anything; the way she’s slowly started shying away just mere months after they officially started seeing each other — all of them pile up on each other to give a perfectly valid reason for him to turn his back away.

And the messages — the damned messages Jungwon wanted to believe weren’t real.

It was horrendous, finding out about it. He felt like a gaping fish being laughed at by cosmic spectators as he briefed a glance at her lockscreen, a notification message reading ‘see you later, babe J’ in that regular, impersonal black colored font, pinging the screen to life. They were on a date, and Jungwon just had to glance at Hara’s phone she left while she went to the bathroom.

He was all cold sweats and didn’t know what to do with the building sense of dread knotting in his insides. Up to this day, he still doesn’t fully know how he went through with the date and managed to return to the dorms without having a breakdown in front of her, or at least acting like a complete maniac asking for an explanation as to who was texting her.

“I know, I know,” he starts, mulling over his plan, going through the details inside his head. “And I will. I just need the right time to talk to her. You know how she’s ‘busy’ these days,” Jungwon adds, sureness in his voice and a bitter undercurrent in his tone, swallowing the acerbic expletives threatening to pull his composure apart.

Sunoo gives him a soft smile at his agreeance, nudging him gently before bringing a hand to pat his head. “I know this is difficult, but please know you deserve better than this pain you’re feeling right now.”

“Well, in the meantime, just stay out of trouble, hyung. No more of your funny business,” Riki helpfully remarks, lifting himself up from the couch before placing his hands on his hips, a grin playing on his face. “Now who wants to order take out and watch a movie?”

—————

“Where is he?” Jungwon mutters to himself, once again hiding behind the wall near the drink dispenser. He unfolds the paper in his hands, looking over the messy chicken scratch note which contains Jay’s weekly schedule he’d taken during his latest consultation with Wonyoung and Lily. “One-forty five. He should be out by now.”

He breathes a hard one through his nose, narrowing his eyes on the paper as if it would do something, all while keeping himself as inconspicuous as he can. There aren’t as much people loitering around, at such hour it would be quite unlikely, and Jungwon is quite thankful for the lack of audience.

He knows he looks like such a sketchy dude, what with his cap covering half of his face and his dimly-styled jacket that screams ‘robber’ louder the more he continues pacing back and forth in place. He’s gotten far too many curious glances from numerous art students not to know how he appears like he’d be the type to mug someone out in the open.

Fuck, I must be losing my mind. Jungwon grunts, second-guessing his new agenda — which, really wasn’t particularly planned with much thought, more of an impulse than anything.

It’s been more or less a week after he agreed to Sunoo’s advice regarding Hara. A week, but he hasn’t done anything remotely close to coming into contact with her. Jungwon knows what he must do, and he’s strengthened his resolve to do it one of these days, but he doesn’t want to rush into talking to her with his self still hurting immensely.

While a painful fact, it seems like she, herself, doesn’t care at all. Really, the most she’s done the past days was, one time, ask him how his day went; over text, not even bothering to appear slightly interested after Jungwon typed out a relatively enthusiastic reply, ending the conversation with ‘well, have fun. get back to me soon, k?’.

Jungwon really was too stupid not to acknowledge it sooner.

But he thinks it doesn’t matter much anymore; they’ll break up anyway, sooner or later, even without him finding out about the cheating. Hara seems to be tipping over their final line. All Jungwon’s focusing now is erasing any traces of concern he has for her, because goodness knows there’s still little left even with his recent realizations. That and whatever it is he’s doing at the Arts Department.

He’s quite aware of the soundness of Riki’s idea. He tends to wiggle his way into matters that shouldn’t concern him, but he hadn’t exactly promised them he’d stay away from his investigative work. Now that he has new facts pinned in his mental bulletin board, red strings rearranged to form a more objective, informed connective framework, he’s aborting his initial plan — which was to study Jay and determine whether or not he’s worth it for Hara — and now switching it so something less specific.

He has no solid beats established yet to hit but he thinks it’d do his sanity well if he could push through with his thwarted plans regarding the whole closure thing. Jungwon had considered it, during one sleepless night, as he was perched on his chair staring down blank on his book for basic business principles, that maybe this would be the best way to get over his pain.

He debated whether or not he’d ask Hara for the nitty-gritty, but he doubts she’d be honest with him; she’d probably just brush it off or gloss it over with a pretty explanation, maybe even some crocodile tears appearing as she’d do so.  Thus leads him to now, attempting to stage an encounter with one Park Jongseong.

Otherwise: wasting his time loitering around when he could be studying during his break.

Jungwon was so close to choosing his latter option, telling the poor guy the truth and maybe possibly conspiring with him, but he thinks by doing so he’d probably make the mess bigger than it already is. And maybe, just maybe, he’d thought, Jay and Hara would be good for each other — maybe they’re meant to be.

Hara wouldn’t have gotten with him if she didn’t see something good in him, right?

He sighs, shaking his head, deeming it pointless to keep thinking about the depths of his predicament. There are two things he should do, and should do perfectly: get the facts straight, and break up with Hara. Considering other factors should be a moment that stays in the sidelines; the faster he gets things done, the faster he could get on with his life.

You can do this, Jungwon. Your mom raised no weakling.

Reining a breath, he closes his eyes and twists his features to something distinctly cordial, friendly, hyping himself up with a little bounce to his feet. When he deems himself able to move forward with his plans, he takes a step forward with clear intent. But he doesn’t even get to take a few more when he’s colliding with a sturdy body.

Thrown off his balance, Jungwon struggles to anchor a foot behind his other one. Within a window of a second, he tries to prepare for his untimely embarrassment, his breath held in jagged anticipation.

It doesn’t happen.

Faster than he could place a proper name on the clearly guy person he’d run against with, there’s as arm darting towards him and slipping around the middle of his back, him feeling the strain of the other’s muscles against his back despite him wearing a jacket.

There’s a warmth that presses intimately against Jungwon’s own, chest to chest, but he has half the mind to remove himself from the saving embrace, heart rapid firing inside his ribcage in the faint cognizance he’d avoided embarrassingly toppling on his ass.

Trying to steady his gaze, Jungwon darts it up to his simultaneous victim and savior.

“Are you okay?”

Jungwon immediately registers the voice as familiar before he places it with a correct identity, exactly as his eyes bore on dark piercing browns that are blown wide from adrenaline-induced shock. He almost sputters at the recognition, that and at his thoughts, unable to stop himself from letting out a baffled ‘eep’. Nevertheless, a careless nod follows while he, as if on autopilot, carefully detaches himself from Jay with a gentle push.

He swallows around the hollow dryness in his throat before nodding once again. “Yeah — yeah, I am. Thank you for catching me,” he says, unsuccessfully keeping himself from letting out minute stutters. A moment follows before he’s searching the other’s concerned eyes. “Why — you—”

As if discerning a coherent thought buried within Jungwon’s unintelligible mumbling, Jay brings up a hand to rub his nape awkwardly. “Well, I saw you looking stressed out here.” A timid chuckle vibrates from his throat, sounding scratchy and little. “Plus, you were a little off when I last saw you, so I wanted to check. I hope you don’t find it weird.”

Something strikes at Jungwon’s lungs as he observes the way Jay sincerely smiles at him, as he takes in the gentlest dips of his voice. By the end of it he’s left trying to find the right words to say, feeling apprehensive and thinking he’d spout the wrong thing despite having practiced some pretty convincing alibis beforehand.

“Uhm, I was just… I was just—” for some reason, Jungwon couldn’t even bear to look at Jay eye-to-eye, so he averts his gaze down, opting to run his mouth instead of wallowing in his panic “—I was looking for you.”

He puffs his cheeks. “I wanted to thank you for last time,” he offers, the half-lie flowing easily, probably because he really does want to thank Jay for giving him his drink and, generally, his concern for someone like him who he didn’t even know of. “It was really nice of you. I was kind of having a bad week so I really appreciated it.”

Despite himself, Jungwon did end up drinking the carbonated strawberry drink as he silently cried inside his room that night, munching on a bag of chips he stole from their stash, a sit-com playing faintly on his phone because he didn’t trust himself to be solely left alone in his thoughts. It was an experience, the drink too sweet and the fuzz rendering it a bit weird to the tongue, but it was comfort all the same — an undeniable piece of serenity and repose provided by something willingly given from observant, thoughtful concern.

He kept remembering the kindness in Jay’s eyes when he spoke, and felt rather indebted despite himself.

The clumsy exhale that Jay lets up brings Jungwon back to reality.

“It really wasn’t anything remarkable, though. I’m just glad I was able to make you feel better. I hope that thing’s settled already?” Jay tips his head to a side, like he’s unsure if he should breach the topic.

Jungwon shrugs. “Not even close, but I’m working on it.” He keeps it at that, unwilling to overshare in case he’d give himself away in one careless slip.

Mild discomfort flashes through Jay’s features, but no sooner than a second and he’s easing it into a comforting one, the sharp features of his face appearing rather soft and soothing. Its contrast has Jungwon filing the image somewhere safe inside his brain without even thinking much of it.

“I’m sorry,” Jay mutters before something crosses his face. “Does it have something to do with Chaeryeong? Are you looking for her now? I could keep you company,” he offers, open and bright as if accompanying someone you hardly know isn’t that much of a chore.

Before Jungwon has the chance to catch himself, he’s already shaking his head away. “Ah, no, it’s not. It’s something different. But, now, I just—” Jungwon disregards the part of his brain saying ‘abort mission’ “—wanted to invite you for lunch? You know, treat you to a burger or something.”

Mother of— Jungwon mentally face palms. He wasn’t even this nervous when he asked Hara out on their first date (granted, he literally simply blurted it out without any heed of a perfect timing), but now he’s grasping for any semblance of poise and certainty. His palms are even properly sweating, perspiring, as if this is such a moment.

A warm grin, complete with subtly flushed cheeks, comes nascent on Jays face at his words, before he’s looking away abashedly, waving a dismissive hand in the air. Unconsciously Jungwon crumples the paper in his hand, coming to deftly hide it in his back pant-pocket. Wouldn’t want to be thought of as a weirdo — though he is being one.

“C’mon, it was nothing that grand. You don’t have to repay me or anything.”

How did Jungwon ever think badly of this man?

“I wanted to help, really.”

“But I insist!” It would be simple to leave and get on with his day, would even be the wiser decision, but something parries against Jungwon’s sense of practicality and logic. It’s quite insignificant, the way his veins palpitate, could be attributed to the rush of panic swelling his insides, but it keeps him rooted to his adamancy.

“Really, please, I insist.” His hand dart to grasp Jay’s arm without a second thought. “Let me treat you to something.”

It takes the other man aback, poorly masked shock evident on the way his prominent brows shoot up, but his damn smile still sticks out despite it all; like an alarmingly red, sore thumb. Briefly, Jungwon wonders if niceness is embedded as the predominant feature in Jay’s DNA, if he’s actually a living saint, before he’s being pulled back to reality by the gentle, calloused palm that overlay his on Jay’s arm.

Jumping back, Jungwon mutters a tiny, “Sorry,” his voice rushed and telling of the little bout of panic he’s experiencing, his hands restless behind his back.

“No, it’s okay, nothing to worry about. Just a tad bit surprised of your overzealousness to repay me. It was really nothing, honestly. But when you say it like that, I…” he trails off, his brows pressing lightly, like he’s contemplating his next words. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Jungwon doesn’t even feel himself frowning. “But, I want to. I want to make it up to you.” The words come out small, most likely sounding guilty, as he flashes back to the thoughts he’d had the weeks before.

I wanted to murder him. Jungwon, you psychopath.

Somewhat, with all the level-headed kindness he’d been subjected to by Jay, Jungwon feels rather bad about having schemed his morbid death, even if it was only in the confines of his mind. He thinks that if not for the purpose of gathering intel, treating Jay would be a silent apology for his disservice to his pure (?) soul.

“Oh,” hangs in the air for quite a while after Jay’s lips part. And though Jungwon feels awkward standing there, expectant, jittery, nervous, he chooses to remain.

“Okay, yeah, okay, if it makes you feel better, then you can treat me something.” Quickly, Jay darts a finger up. “But can it be something cheap? The drink wasn’t exactly expensive.”

Jungwon physically vibrates at the confirmation. “Great! Are you available now?” He stops, considering. “Wait — do you still have classes? Or, uhm, maybe—”

The chuckle that reverberates through the air effectively stops Jungwon from his rambling.

“Breathe, please.” Jay’s teeth are showing now. “I am. Free that is. But I’ve got a date with my girlfriend today. Maybe some other day?”

He’s radiant as he says it, his face beaming and his smile even brighter than before, looking a little breathless like air’s been sucked out from his lungs. Jungwon notices the way his hand strains around the sling of his chic white canvas bag, the way Jay bounces a little as if thrumming with anticipation, and his heart clenches at the notes of black that swirl the back of his own head.

The bout of anticipation being displayed before him reminds Jungwon of the way he’d been: expectant; excited; really overzealous; in the haze of liking someone too much; like a fool. He bites his lip as he tries to stop words from chipping out of his burning tongue. It brims and foams inside his mouth, the vile truth he’s enduring, so much so Jungwon feels like they would slip out without him even noticing should he loosen his self-control for even only a fraction.

He holds it in, more or less well, with a tepid stretch of his lips and a small, “Oh, okay.”

“So…” Jay’s eyes wander and then darts to his watch. “Sorry, but I should be going right about now.” He offers a contrite look. “I’ll see you around?”

Jungwon nods and Jay acquiesces at the silent cue, waving a hand prior to turning away. But before he could fully leave, Jungwon shoots out a question.

“Would you be opposed to the idea of giving me your number?”

—

Jungwon is huddled in the farthest corner of the library, books opened before him, alone by himself because Sunoo and Riki have their respective classes to attend to, enjoying the serenity that flows through the nearly barren wasteland. Well, saying ‘barren’ may be an over-exaggeration; there are people studying and talking softly with one another, just not a lot.

Saying ‘enjoying’, however, is.

Jungwon is far from enjoying his afternoon.

After parting ways with Jay, he grabbed a late lunch. And then after grabbing lunch, he immediately went to the library to push through with his initial plan [of studying] before having been derailed by his most recent agenda [to corner Jay].

It was a good plan to study, an intelligent one, a wise one given how he has upcoming long quizzes scheduled for some subjects.

Was; he still needs to review because he couldn’t focus at all. He’s been stuck at his chair for the better part of two and some half hours but he’s still yet to move from the page he’d opened after sitting down. Regardless of Jungwon’s want to, the black-ink paragraphs and mute-colored graphs on the books barely seem understandable to him anymore, meshing into a visual cacophony of random splotches. And, for the life of him, his hands couldn’t keep still.

He keeps grabbing for his phone, twisting and turning it in his hands, before ultimately unlocking and pressing on the contacts app, staring — staring — at the recent addition to his small roster of people as if anticipating for something to happen.

It’s crazy. It’s going to drive him mad at this point. The name Jay had bleared in his eyes and intruded his brain enough times to fill his thoughts with nothing but images of kind smiles. Jungwon is well aware acquiring the guy’s number would drive him closer to his goals, it’s going to be quite easy to use it as an accelerating device, but he doesn’t exactly know how to do it or whether or not he actually should.

It dawns on him as he remembers the genuine looks Jay had briefed him during their interactions, though admittedly they only have two, that what he’s planning to do is dubious and underhanded. Jay might be engaged in an illicit affair with his girlfriend, he might be playing a great part breaking Jungwon’s heart, but he doesn’t even know — not a single idea about it. And Jungwon knows that, he’s almost a hundred percent certain just by looking at his eyes.

It’s like they bore only the veritable truth, crystal clear, without any hint of adulteration. And the guy is always really kind, regardless of how weird Jungwon is being or how persistent he was about treating him out. Jungwon must’ve looked like an obsessed fool, yet Jay had been nothing but accommodating to him.

“Yang Jungwon,” he can almost hear the admonishing tone of his mother at the thought of using Jay and then disappearing without a bubble of explanation. Jay doesn’t know who he is, just his first name and face and nothing more; if all turns successful and he could make his graceless exit, he should easily be able to avoid the other man with no problems.

Why does morality need to be hard?

Groaning, Jungwon successfully peels himself away from his phone. Swiftly, he tucks it inside the pocket of his tote bag knowing full well he’d fiddle with it again if it were to lie on the table. Seriously, he thinks, I wish I had no conscience.

A weighted sigh exits him not a second later, reading now a thought to be willfully disregarded, before he checks the time on his watch. It reads ‘three-twenty’, and Jungwon thankfully has half the mind to remember that his next class would be starting in fifteen minutes, so he wills away the thoughts clogging his thinking space.

After fixing his things, Jungwon makes his exit. Passing through rows of shelves and concealing a yawn, he rakes his eyes over the other students managing about. Some clot in groups, but some are alone — a typical sight to behold. But the familiar face on a couple of tables away catches his attention, takes him with complete shock that he almost comes to stop with a nasty skid.

Jungwon, without preamble, hurriedly moves to a closer spot but makes sure he’s well-hidden behind one of the shelves. He feels his mouth slack at the sheer coincidence of seeing his cheating girlfriend, but reins himself from making any rash decisions.

Choi Hara, beautiful as ever, sits relaxed on a chair with her body slightly leaned forward and arms folded atop the table. She looks engaged, happily smiling at two girls Jungwon recognizes as her friends, talking about something, making motions with her hands delicately as if to add some spice to whatever she’s saying.

Jungwon bites his lip and, though knowing he probably shouldn’t, strains his ears to hear whatever it is they’re talking about.

“— brought me to that fancy restaurant downtown. It was like a dream come true,” Hara says, a dreamy sigh leaving her lips to signal the end of her little reminiscing.

Finding purchase on the side of the huge shelf he had hidden himself behind, Jungwon inches closer. “Brought? Who?” He mutters to himself, his mind, without a missing a beat, recalling Jay saying ‘date’ during their conversation earlier.

Is it Jay?

One of the girls snort, looking like a distinct mix of both annoyed and envious as she twirls a manicured finger around her dyed hair. “You minx — totally lucky to have two guys fawning over you,” she gushes, a sprinkle of humor in her tone, so casually it has Jungwon reeling.

His breath hitches, air knocked out of his lungs, feeling like he’s being prodded out of orbit by some divine mystical force. So they are, are the only words his mind conjures aside from the other, more deprecating: they know?

Jungwon sees Hara shrug, a nonchalant look on her face as though she’s only talking about something close to a child’s playdate adventures. “It’s so-so, at best.”

A shudder rakes his body at the merciless ease in which way her words poured from her tinted lips, his hands coming to a soft shake against furnished wooden surface. It sounds so clinical, like her response was prepared aseptically, free of any guilt or apprehension. It doesn’t even remotely feel like she’s the woman Jungwon is dating, save for the identical features the two vastly different sides of her share.

The other girl sneers, rolling her eyes, a carnivorous look on her face as she leans forward even more. “Bitch, really? Jungwon is smart and can help you in your studies and Jay is, like, the one of if not the biggest catches here on campus!” she whisper-shouts and, with every word uttered, Jungwon feels his chest break apart even more. “Have you actually taken time to observe his face? That man is gorgeous. Not to mention, filthy, filthy, rich.”

Fuck. Jungwon shakes his head, tipping his face up to smother his ever-strengthening urge to curl up and cry on the floor. Without even knowing what would happen next, there’s a heavy feeling of foreboding that boils in the pit of his stomach which tells him things are only going to go downhill going forward. He almost doesn’t want to stick around to find out.

He gets pulled back by hearing Hara shushing her friends down. She addresses them with a frown. “Hey, what did I say about using their names? It’s business and arts,” she retorts, her tone rushed but authoritative, though all three of them casually chuckle past through it.

Barely even able to process a thought about what he’s just heard, Hara’s voice once again comes barreling through his ears. Slithery now, more than anything, like a whisper personally delivered personally by Satan. “But, exactly. They both have their pros but, honestly, business is too much of a prune. Study this, study that. He’s not even that good of a kisser. Plus, he’s always tight on budget.”

Try as he might, Jungwon doesn’t think he could ever keep his whole face from heating up, nor would he be able to stop tears from streaming out his eyes as his body fills with a paralyzing level of humiliation and pain, prickling against his insides like thorns drenched in scalding poison. Like it isn’t enough Hara’s insulting his inexperience, she also has to slander his whole entire life, and by extension his family, through her careless remarks.

“Isn’t he on scholarship? Have mercy on the poor boy.”

Jungwon’s so close to heaving a throaty breath born out of pained disbelief, but he muffles his cries and hides himself by pressing closer on the shelf, trying to chase some semblance of security.

What if I am? He so badly wants to shout at them, curse them and mutter every hateful thing he could grasp and formulate within his whirring mess of a mind.

A cruel laugh echoes inside his head before he places it as being Hara’s. “I’m good to him, chill. I’m not even asking him for a lot, anymore,” she says, a roll to her eyes following, as though unimpressed.

Crack, goes Jungwon’s heart to a million pieces. Shallow, vapid, cheating — he tries to find his words — cheating bitch.

It seems like Hara’s friends don’t share the same pain, nor apparently do they have any sliver of conscience, because they easily smile with extreme interest, all in that haughty manner that speaks of self-importance and soulless predatory evilness.

“You’re really on a different plane, Hara; playing it up with that innocent persona.” They snicker, like evil little pixies, high and airy and purely vile. “I assume arts is serving his purpose well?”

The world stops before it breaks into the image of Jay, ever so eagerly being genuine and smiling without the restraint of lies. Jungwon doesn’t even get a second to breathe and collect a portion of his bearings before his heart is thumping for another different thing.

“More than I could ask for. He’s opulence personified. But—” Hara rests her chin on her propped hand, a wistful look on her deceptively innocent face “—he’s a little bland in my opinion. He’s a bit of a dork, unlike how cool he looks with everything he’s got going on for him, but I guess that just makes it better for me, right?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jungwon chants, his hands growing colder by the second. He hadn’t considered a development like this. He’d held out to the belief that under the cheating, under the deception and lies on Hara’s and his end, something purer and truer could have formed between her and Jay — not this whole fucked up scenario of some wretched woman playing people just to get a kick out of it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, repeats. And then: Jay.

He’s too eager, too genuine. He’s far too much like Jungwon, maybe a little kinder; a little more selfless.

He’d be devastated, Jungwon concludes, his lungs twisting painfully and giving off so much he finds himself clutching where he’d placed his hands for support. I—

“What about this Ryuwon I hear from some birdie?”

Time halts as Jungwon waits for Hara’s answer, dread ever stronger than the last settling deep within his bones like a sheet of molten lava, lighting him from the inside out.

“Just some guy from the Science Department,” Hara replies noncommittally, but with a sly edge embedded deep in her voice.

Jungwon burns and, if not for the electrifying desperation he feels bloom within the confines of his shattered heart, he would’ve toppled down the ground from the searing zing of pain that spreads across the entirety of his head.

“You’re one evil bitch.”

“Hey, you learn to utilize your assets if you have them.”

“Did you just—”

Jungwon darts to the other side of the room, uncaring if he’s making too much of a noise. Disregarding the stares other students prominently give him, he darts out stealthily to the exit, steps paced and fast as he approaches a shaded area just under a convenient tree.

Upon getting there Jungwon notices the slight shake of his body, but instead of disregarding it he lets himself feel the pain welling out of his skin. He cries, for a short while, carelessly wiping his tears, and, as he does so, his mind slowly regains clarity.

There is a plethora of thoughts clouding his brain; from confusion, to pain, to unadulterated anger. But one thought sticks out;

He needs to save Jay from that monster.