moonyswolf - Tumblr blog

moonyswolf · 1 year ago

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nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon <3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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MINGYU Wageul-Wageul

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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being in a fandom long term: urrrrrrrrrrgh not this shitty argument again we’ve covered this

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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nonidol!kevin moon x f!reader

another summer break, another annual trip to the lake! except, it seems like when you and kev get there, you'll have to make some tweaks to the original rescue protocol.

▷ genre, warnings. childhood friends 2 lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, humor, swearing, motherly meddling and matchmaking, shirtless kevin..., kissing, talks of academic expectations/pressure/insecurity/and lack of fulfillment, kim seokjin is my favorite plot device, this could technically be slow burn, pining-ish?, im sorry joshua + serena, little to no interactions with the other boyz 😔

▷ word count. 29.0k (...hah)

this is the sixth installment of the love in unity series! reading the prev fics is not required, but i do encourage it :] all prev yns will be referred to as _!yn

a/n: return to summer with me 😌 or for those of u on the other side of the world, we can give summer an early welcome :') treat her w kindness pls </3 hope u enjoy!!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): DON’T YOU LOVE FORESHADOWING?

"IT still feels weird, man." Kevin Moon brushed his hand over the surface of his newly cropped hair, freshly cut specifically for this summer break, just earlier this week. He probably should have gotten it done before he took all those pictures with his graduating friends, but life had been busy as of late.

Jacob Bae, best friend, roommate, and one of the recent graduates, chuckled from the other side of the video chat. "I'm sure it does. But hey, it looks good, so it's not like you have anything to worry about."

Kevin glanced over at the car where his dad was gassing up. His mom was in the back seat, waving her arm out the window to beckon him back to the vehicle. "Thanks," he grinned. "Looks like my mom is telling me to come back. This is probably the last time I'll have signal for a few weeks."

Just behind Kevin was the little gas station he and his parents stopped at for snacks and the last leg of their drive. It was tradition that every summer his family made the trek to their lakeside cabin a few hours out of Vancouver. Except last summer, Kevin couldn't make it; in contrast, this summer, Kevin and his parents were going without Kevin's younger sister. Usually, there were a couple other families that were there at the same time, too, who Kevin had grown up with. It was usually a grand time.

Kevin adjusted the bag of snacks he'd purchased from the store that hung on his arm as he made his way back to the car.

"Make sure to take pics! And say hi to your mom for me," said Jacob.

"Why don't you say hi to her yourself, Jacob-ah?" Kevin's mom chided teasingly as Kevin took his place in the passenger seat next to his dad. Ever since Kevin and Jacob had met at that one, fateful out-of-country student mixer at university, neither of them shut up about each other to their own families. It was like finding a needle in a haystack, locating a fellow Korean-Canadian.

Kevin passed his phone back to his mom, and he heard Jacob's immediate, "Hi imo! How are you?"

"I've been doing well. Wah, you look so glowy," his mom marveled, and Kevin felt her nudge him in the shoulder. "Hyungseo-ah, maybe you should get a girlfriend, too, if this is how radiant Jacob looks after so long."

Jacob's warm chuckle contrasted Kevin's groan. The latter rubbed his hand down his face with an embarrassed wince. "Eomma," he said weakly, sliding down in his seat. Not this again.

The car began to roll out of the gas station and he lowered his window to catch the breeze as they went. He already recognized the pattern of trees in this area, and his heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to childhood again. The lake was always a favorite place of his.

"—Kevin mentioned something about other families being there?"

"Oh, yes. We're always there with the Ln family, and more recently, Kevin's cousin—you know Yuna, right? She and her husband Seokjin meet us there with their kids now."

Kevin rested his elbow along the edge of the window. "Uncle Seokjin is an interesting character, Cobie," he mused. "I think you'd get along."

"Seokjin gets along with everyone," his dad chimed in.

"You know who you should get along with, Kevin?—" Kevin already knew where his mom was going with this, "—Yn Ln! You're not gonna be shy after spending so long away from her, are you?"

Jacob's voice echoed in the car. "Who's Yn Ln?"

Kevin squirmed in his seat. "Just—a family friend. Mom, can we please not make this a big deal?" And why in the world would he be shy around his childhood best friend? Three years couldn’t have changed a person that much, could it? You were cute—but in a dorky way—that was how he had always seen you.

She sent him an innocent look. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what I'm talking about," he said, twisting around in his seat to send her a pleading look. "I don't wanna make her uncomfortable, especially since… y'know… we're not kids anymore?"

His mom made a sound of disapproval, but relented. "Aish, fine. I won't say anything; I promise."

A beat of silence. Then from the phone, "I still have no clue what's going on."

The twins were being a pain again. Most of the time, since you were away at college, you actually missed the twin hellspawn, but you should have known that bliss would shatter the moment you had to endure another five hour car ride with them.

"—MAMA, CONNOR IS BEING A JERK—"

"WELL, ALICE WOULDN'T SHARE THE GOLDFISH!"

The noise-canceling headphones weren't working. Usually, they worked substantially well when trying to block out the frat party noises at school, but they weren't holding up well against adolescent discourse. You would have thought that once they had grown out of toddler-hood, they would calm down a little, but sibling rivalry prevailed.

You shucked your useless headphones off and twisted around in your seat to peer into the backseat. "Here, have mine," you said, dropping your bag of goldfish into your little brother's lap.

Connor's eyes lit up in delight. "Thanks, Yn!"

Your ears rang as you turned back to the front.

The drive up to the lake house was something you and your family did every summer, except, you hadn't gone two summers ago for a summer internship. It was a tradition completed with other families—namely the Moons, who were longtime family friends out of Vancouver. You hadn't seen Kevin, their only son who was your age, in two years because of your conflicting schedules. It would have happened again this year, but your misfortune had you internship-less. Then again, a trip to the lake was never a bad thing.

You leaned your head back against your seat rest to enjoy the rare moment of silence in the car. Already, you could begin to point out the familiar scenery out of your window.

“I heard we’re gonna be getting new neighbors this year,” you heard your mother say from the front row, breaking the brief quiet.

You blinked out of your daze, shifting in your seat and to give momentary relief to your aching behind. “Oh, really? Do we know who they are?”

“Aw, so Uncle Jin and Auntie Yuna aren’t coming to the lake with us?” Alice pouted from the backseat.

“No, Uncle and Auntie are both still coming up with us,” you dad piped up from the driver’s seat. He caught your eyes through the rear view mirror. “Their little ones are coming, too. We’re just gonna have even more people this year.”

“Should be fun,” you murmured. You leaned down to rummage through the backpack at your feet for your backup bag of snacks (because some part of your brain just knew that the twins would forget how to share).

“I can’t wait to see Kevin!” This was Connor; you could feel the car shake as he bounced up and down in his seat. “I’ve been wanting to show him my new helicopter—”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Con, you brought the helicopter?”

“Yeah, and what about it?”

Before further argument could erupt between you and your brother, your mom stepped in. “Speaking of Kevin…”

You could feel the coming conversation like there were dark gray storm clouds forming in the distance—impending doom, you liked to think. You fumbled with the opening of your chip bag. “Mama, could you possibly, by any chance, not try and set me and Kevin up anymore?” There, you’d said it. It was out in the open.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” your mother sniffed. “I only think that you and Kevin would be very nice together! It’s already so convenient that our families are long-time friends, and—”

“Mama,” you emphasized. “I don’t wanna get into a relationship for convenience's sake.” Your skin was already beginning to heat. Having known the Moons for so long, as well as having kids the same age, your mom and his mom had harped on the opportunity to bring your families together through more than one way.

“She just doesn’t want to get into a relationship at all!” Your little brother cackled.

You sent him a dull look over your shoulder. “And after I gave you my goldfish?” The situation concerning relationships wasn’t as Connor so bluntly put it; rather, you simply had yet to find the right person, as it was for many people. A relationship would have been nice, but when it came, then it would come. Plus, you were pretty sure that Kevin wasn’t the most comfortable with being matchmade with you by the Mother Matchmakers either. That was what the pact was for, anyway.

“I’m just saying that Kevin is a smart, good-looking young man,” your mother teased.

You hadn’t seen him in almost three years, but how much could three years change a guy? Maybe you would admit that he was cute. If you hadn’t known him since he wore Cars diapers, maybe you would have had a crush on him. “No matchmaking,” you repeated.

Your mother sighed melodramatically. “Fine. No matchmaking with Kevin.”

“Thank you,” you said, settling into your seat. Something stirred in the back of your mind, though. For some reason, you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of this conversation. But as you turned your attention back to the scenery whizzing past you, you let all dealings with matchmaking, boys, and relationships sink to the very back of your mind.

EPISODE TWO: IT’S CALLED AN AMBUSH

THANKS to the convenience of no signal, you could safely attempt to forget about the internship you hadn’t landed this year. The entire debacle had been a headache and a half, but the residual sadness still lingered. There was something about the lakehouse, though, that gave you hope that you could get over it. While you wouldn’t spend this summer doing something “productive” toward your career, you would at least be presented with a pleasant alternative.

Your dad pulled the family SUV into the gravel driveway of your family lakehouse, and childhood flooded back to you. All of the dark oak walls and browned window sills and wildflowers blooming in the front walkway among the grass… You could remember crashing your bike into that one bush to the side of the house where the rain gutter now stood hugging the building.

The twins had fallen asleep sometime between the matchmaking conversation and here, which left the car in a sort of serenity that matched the surroundings. Your house in particular was one of the few houses that was perched a little higher than the lakeshore. There were a couple around the lake that sat directly on the water with docks built into their lower levels though.

You notched your car door open, shouldered your backpack, then quietly lowered your car’s seat. Connor, who was sitting directly behind you, had his head tilted to the side, mouth wide open to catch flies as he slept. With a cheeky smile, you snapped a picture of him. Once tucking your phone away, you climbed into the back to shake him and Alice awake.

“Hey, we’re here,” you murmured. Your parents were already beginning to unload the car of your supplies for the next couple of weeks.

Your brother’s eyes fluttered open, and his arms stretched over his head as he began to compute his surroundings. “Mmm… I’m hungry,” he babbled and smacked his lips together.

Yep, this one was awake.

You patted his face in your version of sisterly affection as you leaned over him to get to his twin. “You gotta wait, dude. You’re gonna ruin your dinner.”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “You always sound like Mom when you say that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you huffed. You nudged your sister. “Hey, Alice. Up, hm?”

She shifted in her seat, eyes still closed. “Are we here yet?”

“Yeah, hon. We’re here.” With your task completed, you backed out of the car to make space for the twins to climb out after you. You took a step backwards, your foot catching against something and making you tumble into the person directly behind you. “Ah! Shi—”

“Language!” Your mom called from the other side of the car. “Hi Kevin! Wow, did you get a haircut?”

Kevin…?

You recognized the warm chuckle behind you, and the arms helping to steady you patted your shoulders in greeting. “I did!”

When you whirled around, your mouth stretched in a grin, but you didn’t expect to come face to face with the confident stature of the man behind you. He was in a tank top and shorts, which were definitely proper attire for the humid temperature, and yet, your brain was thinking about the amount of arm muscle there was. Oh, and of course, the cropped black hair. You could have sworn his jaw got sharper, too… This was not the timid-faced Kevin Moon—rising freshman in college—you last recalled.

“Kevin!” Connor’s body rocketed past you and crashed into Kevin’s legs.

Kevin bent down slightly to ruffle your little brother’s hair. “Hey, little man! What’s good?”

“I wanna show you my helicopter—!”

“Connor,” Alice said as she hopped out of the car, “Mama wants you to help bring in your stuff, and then you can show Kevin your helicopter.”

Connor’s mouth gaped open like a fish’s. “Wha—what about Yn?”

“Well, that’s just what Mama said, so,” your little sister said matter-of-factly. She raised a hand in a wave to Kevin. “Hi!”

Kevin returned the gesture with a sweet smile. “Hi, Alice.”

You and Kevin watched as your twin siblings raced into the lakehouse with their backpacks strapped onto their bodies. You could hear their hollering from out here as they fought over who would get the top bunk this year.

“They’ve gotten taller,” Kevin commented, drawing your attention back to him.

You brushed your hair from your face. “Yeah, you should’ve seen my reaction when I came back home and they were like, not small enough where I could trip over them anymore.”

The two of you shared a small laugh, and you held one arm with your other. You hadn’t realized how a few years could reset things between the two of you, but you supposed it was also attributed to the fact that three years away at college could lead to a lot of difference and a lot of growth.

“So what’s new with you?” You asked him and nudged his arm with your elbow. “Have you been working out?” You blurted, but ran with it.

Kevin smiled, reaching back to cup the nape of his neck with that sheepishness you recognized as something distinctly Kevin. Maybe things weren’t so different. “Hah, yeah actually. Is it that noticeable?”

You looked him up and down with what you hoped he saw as teasing and not you actually checking him out. “Yeah, dude. You look good though.”

“Really? Thanks, Yn. I appreciate it.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "You look good, too—and oh my god, I have so much to catch you up on—"

"Hyungseo! Stop hogging Yn and come in to help with dinner." Just a little ways down the path, Kevin’s mom peered out from the front porch of the Moons’ house. The houses in this neighborhood were a little more spread out than the average suburban street, but their house had always been the closest to yours.

You could have sworn you saw a dusting of pink on your friend’s cheekbones. “I’m not hogging her,” he groaned. He turned back to you, throwing a thumb in the direction of his house. “I’ll see you guys over at ours in a few then?”

You gave a nod. “For sure. My mom and I marinated a couple things for tonight this morning, so we’ll be bringing those over.”

“Sweet,” he grinned, already backpedaling toward his house. “See ya, Yn!”

“Bye, Kevin,” you chuckled and bounded up toward your house.

Once everyone in your household had settled in for the most part, your dad corralled your siblings over to the Moon house, while you and your mom brought over your family’s offerings of tonight’s dinner. Instead of entering through their front door, you simply bypassed the invisible property line between your houses and found Kevin and his dad firing up the barbeque on the back lawn.

Kevin looked up from the box of aluminum foil in his hands and dropped it onto the table. "Oh, auntie! Let me get that for you," he said, meeting you in the middle and taking the tray out of your mom's hands.

"Thank you," she said to him. "How has school been, Kevin? Remind me again—you're a…?"

"Photography major," he replied. The three of you swept past Kevin's dad on your way up to the Moons' house.

"Ah, how's that going for you?"

"It's going well—" Your mom slid the screen door open and you all deposited your shoes to the side before entering the kitchen. "—I should be able to graduate two quarters early, which is nice."

Your mom nodded her head. "That's good, that's good. Katherine, it's nice to see you again!"

As your mom shuffled over to the sink where Kevin's mom was washing a colander of cabbage, you and Kevin set the trays down on the kitchen island.

You heard Kevin's gasp of delight when he lifted the foil off his. "No way. I love your mom's short ribs so much," he said, tipping his head back with his eyes closed.

You laughed at his reaction. "Me, too dude. It's never the same when I try to recreate it at school."

"Oh, for sure," he agreed. He cocked his head to the side, a frown coming into his face. "These should probably go back out to the grill then, huh."

You considered the two trays of meat before you. "You're right."

You both covered the trays back over and began to make your way back out to the lawn.

"Has Connor showed you his helicopter yet?" You asked Kevin while you slid your shoes back on.

The screen door slid shut behind him with his other arm carrying his tray. "He did." Kevin brightened, "It's cool. That kid should go into aviation or engineering."

"That's what I'm thinking," you said. "Though, he's not the greatest at math, but I guess he still has a long way to go before he even needs to consider all that."

He nodded, sighing. "That's true. The twins have a long way to go. Crazy how far we've gotten, y'know?"

You both dropped the marinated meat trays over by Kevin's dad, only to greet your dad on the way down to help out. You were sure that you and Kevin were needed up at the house anyway; your dad had mentioned something about having Connor and Alice start on the batch of kimchi. You hoped he had set up some newspaper this time to avoid a mess.

"My sister says your porch swing broke last year," Kevin said as he followed you back into the kitchen.

"Oh yeah!" You snorted. "Pro tip: don't try to fit two families on that thing. Not a good idea."

The moms directed you both over to the fruits and vegetables on the counter that still needed to be prepped, and you picked up a knife, and Kevin a peeler.

Kevin's brows knitted together as he tossed and caught an asian pear with one hand. "You guys tried to fit both families on that thing? It could barely handle two people the last time I remember."

"Hey, in our defense," you started, already giggling at the memory, "we wanted a cool picture, but then we ended up almost putting a hole through our porch. Lesson learned."

"Lesson learned, indeed." He shook his head as he shucked the pretty ring of golden peel he'd gotten from the pear into the paper bag beside him. "Is it fixed now?"

"Should be," you said. You used the blade of your knife to help coax the peel of the red onion off, then diligently began to take the rest off. "We need a maximum occupancy sign to go with it."

He laughed. "Something like 'less than four people' or something?"

"I think it can handle four people!"

His eyebrows arched high. "You wanna test that theory?"

You glanced up from your diced onions for just a second to meet his gaze. "Uhm no. But you are definitely welcome to."

"Oh, no, no! I'm not getting looped into this solo again like you did with the tire swing that one year."

"Okay, that time wasn't my fault! You said that you bet we could ride it together without breaking the tree branch, and I said—"

Your thought train cut off when the doorbell rang. Both yours and Kevin's heads perked up at the sound and darted in the direction like a pair of meerkats. Even from this room, you could hear the front door being opened and the commotion firing up. There was only one family left to join the party, and you knew exactly who had come to make his presence known.

In minimal time, a lanky man with dark brown bangs and a magazine-cover-worthy face barged into the kitchen with his hands raised, full of grocery bags, and a child riding in a carrier on his chest. "Hello, everyone! Your favorite, most handsome uncle has arrived."

"Hi, Uncle Jin," both you and Kevin chorused, as Kevin's mom took the grocery bags from him with thanks. Your mom must have been the one who opened the door since she had gone into the other room to monitor the twins and their kimchi.

"Hello, children—wow," Kim Seokjin said as he made eyes at Kevin's arms, giving them a little squish. "Close the gyms, everyone. What have they been feeding you at college?"

Kevin's face reddened. "It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" Seokjin made eye contact with you. "You're seeing this, too, right?"

You swallowed your laugh, but you couldn't suppress your smile. "I'm seeing it, too," you confirmed. You set your knife down and gently ran your finger over baby Leena's head; you wondered how she was still asleep with how loud her father's voice was. "Awh, she's adorable."

Your uncle by association put his hands on his hips. "Fatherhood is great, but let me tell you," he said with flair, "after two kids, I don't want anymore. I think I've seen enough dirty diapers for you both combined."

Kevin laughed. "I'm sure Yuna-noona's on the same page."

"Yes, your cousin and I are definitely on the same page," Jin confirmed while clasping a hand on Kevin's shoulder. His eyes widened, and he gave the muscle beneath his fingers a squeeze. "Jesus—"

"Jin! Do you know where the bag with the formula is?" That was Yuna, Kevin's cousin, calling from the next room over. Soon, her head poked in through the doorway, and her mouth curved into a delighted smile at the sight of familiar faces. "Oh, hi everyone!"

"I think it's in the red colored bag, babe," Jin said as he turned away from you and Kevin and waddled over to where his wife was.

"That's what I thought, too, but I can't find it."

With the young couple now off in search of their bag of baby formula, you and Kevin were again left to yourselves with the fruits and vegetables.

You scooped the diced onions up with one hand and the blade of your knife into an empty bowl for later. "Well, that was…"

"Quite an entrance?" Kevin finished. You could still see the rosiness in his cheeks. "Yup."

"You can always count on Uncle Jin to liven up a place."

"Oh, definitely." Kevin picked up another pear to peel; they would probably either be sliced up for the kids to eat or maybe used to make a dessert later. Something of the sort, at least. "Now where were we?"

You raised your brows as you picked up a carrot. "I think we were talking about how you broke the tire swing in seventh grade."

The evening progressed swiftly with everyone's combined efforts in throwing dinner together. By the time the sun was about to make its descent into the horizon, all three families were moved out onto the back lawn with chairs set up and meats cooking on the grill. There was something beautiful about the lake at this hour—then again, there was always something beautiful about the lake. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but even the way the mosquitoes danced in the waning sunlight made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

If you strained your vision a little, you could even make out the shapes of people on the opposite shoreline beginning to light campfires of their own. Most of the people who lived around the perimeter of the lake sublet their properties during the non-vacation seasons like your family, the Moons, and the Kims. Then, when the time came, they would return to their lakehouse hideaways for much needed rejuvenation.

As golden hour painted the landscape glorious shades of auburn and butter, you caught your mother making her way toward you out of the corner of your eye.

“Yn-ah,” she said to you with a plate of the fruit that you and Kevin had cut earlier in her hands. She gestured for you to take it from her, then nodded up over to the house on the other side of the Moons’ place. “Take the twins and go welcome our new guests.”

You furrowed your brows. “New guests?” When you followed her gaze, you saw that the house next door had acquired a new car in its driveway. You definitely didn’t recognize it, but you managed to spot what looked like someone disappearing in the front door of the house.

“They’re one of the new families, I think,” she told you. She then gave you a little nudge, urging, “Go. We’re still working on dinner anyways.”

You glanced between the plate of fruit in your possession, then searched the back lawn for the hellspawn. When you located their whereabouts (skipping through a pair of hula hoops over by the big oak tree), you marched over to them to repeat your mother’s instructions.

“Oi!” You called out.

Alice looked over at you as she stopped her skipping. “I don’t want fruit,” she said when she saw what you were holding.

You stopped just short of Connor’s hula hoop circumference. “It’s not for you. Mama wants us to go say hi to the new neighbors. Come on.”

“Do we have to?”

“If I do, then yes. And Mama said so.” Plus, you were not planning to go alone upon any circumstance. Your social anxiety could not take showing up at a stranger’s doorstep alone and with fruit.

The twins dropped their hula hoops and begrudgingly trudged after you. No child could trump the “Mom said so” card. At least, not in this household.

With your siblings following after you like two ducklings to a Mother Goose, Kevin saw the line of you walking past from where he was stationed beside his dad. His eyes zipped from you, the kids, and the plate of fruit, then cocked his head to the side in bemused inquiry.

You inclined your head toward the house you aimed for in the distance and lifted the plate of fruit as if that was enough explanation.

He gave a grave nod for your sake, teasing of course, then held up his free hand in a thumb’s up for encouragement.

Nonetheless, you and your siblings carried on.

The lakehouse on the Moons’ other side was similar to all the others around the lake: dark wood walls, doors encased in a protective screen door, grass and flowers growing out of the cracks where the house met the earth. You could feel your siblings converge on you, nearly hiding behind you, as you all approached the front door. It wasn’t that the house looked scary in any way—it was just the prospect of new people that was the scary part. You were sure this family was just as friendly as everyone else, but it didn’t hurt to be a little nervous.

When the three of you reached the front door, you raised your hand to ring the doorbell.

You could hear the echo of the bell inside the house, followed swiftly by a man’s voice, “I’ll get it!”

Footsteps drawing closer… then the locks came undone, and finally, the main door inside the screen swung open.

“Hi,” greeted the young man on the other side.

You paused when his face became clearer after opening the screen door. He was, to put it bluntly, awfully pretty. Dark hair swept back out of his face and behind his ear, a prince’s facial features, and a smile that was as beautiful as the golden hour greeted you and your siblings. Even his voice was soft.

Alice held onto the side of your shorts pocket. “You're pretty.”

The man made an expression of humble surprise, and heat rose to your neck. “Sorry,” you stammered. “We’re from a couple doors down and we wanted to welcome you to the lake. These are for you and your family.” You managed to pass the plate over to him without being any more embarrassing.

He accepted the offering graciously. “Oh, wow. Thank you so much! That’s so thoughtful.”

You placed your hands on either of your siblings’ backs to push them forward slightly. “I’m Yn, and these are my little siblings, Alice and Connor.”

Your siblings chimed in their hellos to the pretty man.

His eyes narrowed in upturned crescent moons, smile widening. “Well it’s really nice to meet you guys. I’m Joshua, but my friends call me Josh or Shua.”

EPISODE THREE: MAMMA MIA! HERE WE GO AGAIN…

IT turned out that your mother had an ulterior motive for sending you and your siblings to greet the newcomers. She had popped up behind you soon after Joshua had introduced himself to invite him and his family to have dinner with you. You could sniff out the conspiracy from a mile away, but you still wanted to give your mom the benefit of the doubt.

When the first night passed without anything happening, though, you slowly let your guard down. (Rookie mistake.)

Everyone crashed into bed after cleaning up dinner. The move up to the lake was a tiring one, and the promise of an early start the next morning proved to be more than enough encouragement to hit the hay.

You were on the living room couch with Alice sitting on the floor between your legs the next day. It was late morning by this time, and you and your siblings had just woken up less than an hour ago. Your dad was still asleep, and your mom? Well, you weren’t really sure where he was.

“Ow, can you stop tugging?” Alice whined under her breath, her hand rocketing up to the back of her head to stop your hands.

You paused your movement for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. “It wouldn’t hurt this bad if you would just let me run a comb through it.”

“The brush works fine if you use it correctly!”

You exhaled sharply and pressed your lips together. There was never any rest between your two little siblings, whether it was amongst themselves or against you. You supposed you could just suck it up for the time being; it wasn’t often that you got to braid your little sister’s hair. She usually just liked to leave it down.

You heard the backdoor open and shut behind you, and the both of you turned your heads to see who it was. Your mom entered the house with perspiration gleaming on her face as she took off her sun hat and tossed it onto one of the dining room chairs.

“Hi Mama,” the two of you said, one after the other.

Your mom settled onto the couch cushion next to you. “Hi girls. Is your brother and dad up yet?”

“Connor’s with Uncle Jin and Aunt Yuna,” said Alice. “Daddy’s still asleep though.”

“Mm,” she hummed. She combed her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. “It’s a warm morning out,” she murmured, then quickly added, “hey you.” She knocked her hand against your arm.

“Hm?” You asked as you finished up Alice’s braid and tied it off with the blue Cinnamoroll hair tie she’d chosen. You patted her back with your hand. “You’re done.”

Your little sister hopped to her feet. “Thanks!” She dashed away and out of the room—to where, you had no clue. You figured she knew where the food was if she was hungry.

You angled your body to squish your side against the couch cushions and face your mother. “What were you saying?”

“Ah, I was going to talk to you about the Joshua Hong boy.”

Joshua Hong. You didn’t realize you could hear a man’s name so often within twelve hours.

You made a gesture with your hand. “What about the Joshua Hong boy, Mom?”

“Well, isn’t he a handsome one?” She asked you enthusiastically, straightening in her seat. It was alarming how bright her expression became. “I spoke to his mom while Kevin and I were walking just now, and he’s only a few years older than you, you know.”

You heard a metaphorical record scratch. What? There was so much in that one sentence that you needed to unpack. You raised your hands to signal her to pause. “Wait, since when do you and Kevin take walks together?” What could they have been talking about? You knew Kevin was an exceptional conversationalist, but never in your time at the lake had you known of this interaction.

Your mother blinked. “Oh, we started the tradition when you didn’t come up with us that one year.”

“Tradition?” So this happened more than once? You didn’t know why you were so scandalized by this information—it was just Kevin after all. You knew your parents and even your siblings were all fond of him—of course they were. You were arguably even more fond of him, but that wasn’t the point. You hoped she hadn't said anything about you and him as an item at any point of time… you trusted that Kevin could handle that though; that was what the pact was for, after all.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” She arched a brow. “But anyway, yes, so we bumped into Josh’s mom on the last leg around the lake, and she mentioned that he’s majoring in chemistry and planning to go into medicine. You guys might have something in common.”

You pursed your lips. Perhaps the two of you might have something to talk about, but your track was pre-veterinary rather than pre-med. There was probably a middle ground though... Maybe you were just being stubborn.

“Just make friends or something,” she said to you while standing up from the couch. “You need more of those.”

Your eyes shot wide open. “Hello? Mom?” Now that was simply uncalled for.

She chuckled impishly as she walked away and disappeared down the hall, leaving you to yourself. You were lucky neither of the twins were here to hear that burn.

It wasn’t much longer than a couple hours later that you found yourself on the backyard lawn space setting up the badminton net between two oak trees with Kevin’s assistance. Everyone was outside and awake, and the kids were all seated up on your house’s back porch munching on the watermelon that Yuna cut for them.

You tightened the string on one side of the net. “So he didn't kiss her?” You queried.

Kevin sputtered a laugh, yanking his side to test its integrity. “Yeah,” he said. “Isn’t it so funny? According to multiple sources, Sunwoo and Chanhee barged in at the perfect moment, and frankly—” Kevin raised his arms up in the air and let them fall for effect, “—ruined the moment.”

"Pfft.” You considered that for a moment. An almost kiss ruined by a comedically timed interruption from a guy drunk off liquor and love, and the friend tasked with dumping his ass at home. That was bad luck if you ever heard it. “And what about that other dude? The Hyunjae guy? Did he finally fix his eyesight?”

Your friend leaned back against his oak tree, ankles crossed over the other and arms braided over his chest. A pair of shades rested backwards on his head to complete his summer-worthy ensemble of shorts and T-shirt. “His literal eyesight is still shit, but yeah, he and HJ!Yn are together now. Took for-fucking-ever, but—”

“Language!” Jin yelled like a referee on the sideline of a soccer match. “We have children in the vicinity.”

Kevin brushed a hand through his hair. “Whoopsies, sorry!” He turned back to you. “Anyways, yes, they are finally together. Man, having someone watch my cursing makes it seem like Jacob is here with me.”

You noticed the fond twinkle in his eyes as he stared out at the still waters of the lake just down the way from you both. “You talk about this Jacob guy a lot,” you said to him. “I think I need to meet the person who’s threatening to knock me off the best friend pedestal.”

“He already has,” he jested.

You let out an indignant squawk. “Hurtful!”

Connor, watermelon juice smeared all around his mouth, added rather unnecessarily, “So you don’t want a partner and you don’t have friends. What do you have, Yn?”

You leveled a scowl at him. “An annoying little brother.”

“Hey!”

In a tone dryer than the Sahara Desert, Alice chimed in, “Guess that makes me the favorite twin.”

“I should tell you about Sangyeon. I need to yell about Sangyeon,” Kevin huffed indignantly, snapping his fingers as if the thought just hit him. You whipped your head back over. “Oh my god, dude, you know what happened at the graduation ceremony? It was like, straight out of a scene from a movie—!”

You never got to find out what was just like it was out of a movie, because your mom appeared in the distance with the Hongs. They all came wielding badminton racquets—how convenient. You didn’t mind the extra company, of course, and despite your stubbornness, you knew Joshua and his family were very nice people.

You caught the tail end of your mother’s conversation with Josh and his mom: “...Yn used to play badminton on the high school team. She could’ve gone to the Olympics if she really wanted to—”

Well, that was only partly true. Your team had gone to Nationals, but the Olympics was one step above Worlds. You liked to think you were pretty good at the sport, but you hoped your mom wasn’t talking up you and your abilities too much.

“Oh, wow. I’m a soccer person myself,” said Joshua good-naturedly. “I don’t really know much about badminton, but it seems like a really fun sport.”

"Yn's a great teacher. She taught the twins how to play." Ah, there it was.

When they were within a comfortable distance, you raised your hand in a wave. "Hi hello!"

"Hello Yn," Joshua's mom said back. "Hi Kevin."

Kevin dipped his head with a smile. "Hi Auntie."

"Yn-ah," said your mom as she took you by the arm, dragging you over toward Joshua, "I was just talking to Josh about how good you are at badminton."

Your eyes widened slightly, and you noted the way Joshua's did the same. You made eye contact with Kevin as this happened. He seemed caught at a crossroads, unable to help or say anything. "I guess I'm okay at it."

"Liar," Kevin suddenly jumped in.

You sent him a look. Wait really?

He shrugged sheepishly. "I don't wanna downplay your abilities, dude. You're really good."

Oh. "Thanks, Kev," you said, blinking. Your heart warmed at the finger guns he sent your way. It was nice to know he had your back.

"Good! See? You and Josh should play doubles together." Your mother somehow got a racquet into your hand. She clapped her hands and ushered her two other children off their butts. "Come on, you two, you can be on Kevin's team."

"But that's not what doubles means, Mama—"

Joshua sidled up beside you with an apology in his smile. "Sorry, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I don't want you to be forced to teach me or anything."

Guilt wormed itself into your stomach. "No, no! It's totally okay," you amended swiftly. "This all just happened really quickly, but I'd be so down to teach you badminton, if you'd like."

He bobbed his head up and down, patting the netting of his racquet. "Okay, yeah. That'd be really cool actually."

You nodded, returning his expression. "Cool."

You and Joshua had somehow taken over the makeshift badminton court. The twins had gotten tired of the "big kids" playing too hard, and Kevin… actually, you didn't know why Kevin put down his racquet. But at some point, you noticed that he was just hanging out in a chair, sipping some kind of fruit juice as he observed you and Joshua. (That was what you assumed he was doing. There was a book propped open in his lap, but you hadn't seen him turn a page in a while. And he had put his sunglasses on, so you couldn't exactly see what his eyes were doing.)

You tracked the birdie as it flew over the net to your side. "Nice!" You praised, taking a few steps in the diagonal to hit the birdie back over with an easy backhand flick.

Joshua stumbled forward, but hit it back over. "Shoot," he said, barely catching himself before he crashed into the netting.

You chuckled, "Careful." You backed up and gave the birdie a gentle bump.

It sailed over the net, but it landed too close to it for Joshua to get a clean shot back over. He sighed as he bent down to pick the projectile up from the grass. "Dang. Nice hit, Yn."

Content with your shot as well, you walked over to the net to meet him. "Thanks, man."

"Hyungseo-ah!"

You watched as Kevin stood up from his chair at his mom's call. "Yeah, what's up?"

As she strolled over to him, she was reapplying sunscreen onto her arms and face. "We have more new neighbors. Since you're not doing anything, you should come and welcome them with me. There’s someone I think you should meet."

You and Kevin locked gazes for a second before he turned back to his mom. You didn't know why you kept looking at each other—this all felt like déjà vu, but maybe it was the fact that it seemed like your moms were separating you both instead of bringing you together that was throwing you off.

"Uhm, sure, Mom." He dropped his book into his seat and followed after his mom.

Your gaze trailed after him for a moment before you snapped back to reality. You swiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. "Sorry, where were we?"

Just then, Seokjin made his way down the lakeshore with baby Leena strapped to his chest again. He threw up an arm in greeting. "Hey, kids. You guys still at it?"

"Yup," you said back. "He's getting good at it!"

Joshua laughed lightly. "Ah, you flatter me. It's just 'cause Yn's a good teacher."

Seokjin's eyes flickered between the two of you. "Huh. I'm sure she is."

"Anyways," you coughed. "Did you just come from the new neighbor's house or something?" He hadn't arrived from the direction of his own house, which was on the other side of yours.

Your uncle by association gave his affirmative, one hand pressed gently on the back of his baby in his holster. "Of course! You know I'm too nosy to not have gone to introduce myself and see what's up. The couple has a girl around your age, Yn-ie. Their son is off in Paris for his job or something though."

The two men could probably see the gears in your brain turning. Another person who was around yours and Kevin's age? You really didn't want to read too much into it, but—you pushed the thought to the side. It probably wasn't what you were thinking, right?

"Uh, you good, Yn?" Joshua asked.

Your eyes shuttered. "Yeah. I was just thinking about something." You gestured with your racquet in a flourish. "How about another round?"

EPISODE FOUR: THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS DEAL™

THE crickets were particularly melodious tonight. Their chirrups became lovely background music as you perched on the stairs of your back porch beneath the warm glow of the outside light. Moths swarmed the bulb, casting little shadow puppets along the wooden deck.

You were hunched over one of the few books you brought along with you for the trip. Your siblings liked to tease you for bringing “school work” on a summer trip, but these had been purchased out of your own interest. It was an anthology of experiences related to animal behavior. The certain piece that had originally caught your eye had been about the Alaskan husky’s primal nature to run, and their participation in dog sled racing. You’d come across it originally in a magazine on an airplane, finding yourself enthralled in a story of the stamina, determination, and hard work that these dogs faced in the brutal Alaskan winters.

When your plane landed, you had gone online and found more stories like them. Thus, the book in your lap and money down the drain. (Though, you would argue that it was money well-spent.)

“Warm night out.”

You startled, heart galloping in your chest, as Kevin appeared in your periphery and stepped into the light.

To his credit, he took on a sheepish sort of grin. “Oops, sorry. Probably should have given a warning or something.”

You pressed a hand to your palpitating heart and scooted over to give him room to sit on the step next to you. “No, it’s all good. I don’t think there was really any way that you could have warned me.” You were probably way too deep into your book to have even noticed if he was any quieter.

He took a seat beside you, posture mimicking yours with his forearms pressed onto his knees. “You’re right,” he murmured. “Whatcha reading?” He asked while inclining his chin toward the pages in your lap.

“Oh.” You kept a couple fingers wedged between the pages you were on as you flipped to the cover to show him. “It’s just this, uhm, collection of stories on animal behavior. Real fascinating stuff, actually, and a lot of it is kind of inspirational.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, unsure of why you were always shy about telling people about something you were passionate about. You shouldn’t have thought so little of Kevin Moon, though. He never gave you any worries about being judged.

“Oh, that sounds neat,” he said, scooting closer. “Is it for your major? You’re still doing wildlife biology, right—or is it ecology?”

“Wildlife biology,” you confirmed. “It’s not for my major or anything, no. Just something I was interested in.”

A thought suddenly occurred to you and you were rewinding all of the things that had happened in the past couple of days. Before Kevin could comment further on the topic of majors, you piped up, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

His eyes widened a smidge, his posture straightening. “Oh? What about?”

You felt around the porch deck for the receipt you had been using as a makeshift bookmark, hand flopping around before you snatched it up and slipped it into the pages of your book. You set the book aside. “Is it just me, or are our moms… you know…”

“Doing the Thing again?” He finished. He sighed with a little grimace, “Yeah, I think I’m seeing it.”

The “Thing” that both you and Kevin were referring to was none other than the very act of matronly matchmaking taking place between you and the new kids on the block. At least you could confirm that you weren’t overthinking it.

You recalled the events of earlier today when Kevin and his mom had come back to where everyone else was with the new family that had just arrived. The Xus were another party of just three—their oldest son was in Paris, as Seokjin reported, but their youngest, Serena, was yours and Kevin's age. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who Kevin's mom wanted to introduce her son to.

“You know what’s crazy?” You said to him then, “On the car ride up here, I asked my mom—like, point-blank, you know?—to not try to matchmake us anymore.”

Kevin perked up. “Dude. That’s crazy, because that’s what I asked my mom on the car ride up here.”

You sputtered, “You’re kidding.”

“Great minds think alike,” he said, lip curling upward into a smile and his arms coming up in a halfhearted shrug. “But I should have known it wouldn't be that easy.”

Now that you were thinking back to your own conversation, you should have known something fishy was going on when your mom mentioned Kevin specifically… You only thought that she was being thorough in her understanding of what you were asking her to do, but turned out, it was only a loophole. “You’re so right,” you groaned and tilted your head backward. “Literally what are we gonna do?”

The two of you stewed in silence on this fine night.

There was one night, similar to this one, where you had sought each other out. You couldn’t remember what year it was—something close to sixth grade when both of you had the mind to realize the game your moms were trying to play. From that night came a pact of sorts, one that would hopefully try to steer each other away from a fate that neither of you were sure that you wanted yet. After all, eleven years old was a little premature to be talking about who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, right?

Kevin leaned back onto his palms. “We need to make a new pact, I think.”

Your head swiveled over to him. “Amendments to the pact?”

“Either amend it or come up with a new one to fit our current situation,” he said. “A rescue protocol.”

A rescue protocol… you could see it begin to take shape in your head. The previous pact was different—an agreement between you and Kevin that you were both simply friends, no matter how many times your moms made you do chores together, or tie each other’s shoelaces, or swap numbers and emails and social media. And it had worked, for the most part; you were both still friends after all these years.

But this time would have to be different. Your moms weren’t driving you toward each other anymore.

“The Rescue Protocol—is that what we’re calling it?” You mused in an attempt to bring mirth to the conversation.

Kevin made a sound like a laugh. “Better than ‘the pact,’ I like to think.”

“How about the ‘Damsel in Distress Deal?’”

He let out an actual laugh this time. You got to watch his eyes turn up into crescent moons, the corners crinkling with pretty smile lines. His smile was always contagious, even after all this time. “The ‘Damsel in Distress Deal?’” He parroted. When he allowed the phrase to soak into his brain for a second, tongue massaging his bottom lip, he relented. “Okay, that’s actually not bad.”

You giggled. “So we either call it the Rescue Protocol or the Damsel in Distress Deal, trademark.”

“Trademark?” His reaction sent you into a flurry of snickers, hand clamped over your mouth so the sounds wouldn’t wake up your family. “What? Are we gonna advertise this idea to people?” He chuckled.

“It’s a good idea!”

“We don’t even know what the parameters are yet,” he sputtered. Kevin lightly punched your upper arm. “Silly goose.”

“Geese are not silly,” you found yourself replying. They could be mean creatures. “But I think they’re cute.”

“Jacob thinks they’re scary.”

You gave a playful roll of your eyes. “This Jacob guy again?” After a moment, you sighed, toeing the dirt on the bottom step with the tip of your shoe. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Kevin sobered a little, but the remnants of his merriment remained in the shine of his irises. “Shoot.”

“Are you…” You struggled to string the words together. There was a question you’d come up with already, but you didn’t know if it was too forward or not. “Are you ready for a relationship?”

The question caught him off guard. His gaze flickered from you, to the grass, to his lap, to the moon-soaked surface of the lake further down the hill. “I… I’m not sure, really,” he muttered, then added, “I think I would know the right person when I meet them.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Or maybe not,” he shrugged. “Maybe I’ve already met the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, but the relationship just hasn’t gotten there yet.”

You pondered on that for a moment, then realized you agreed with that, too. If you already met the person you were meant to be with, the thought of a relationship was a little less daunting. You already knew this person. “So we’re in agreement then? This new pact is something we both want?”

“As usual, we are in agreement,” he nodded. “What’s our plan then? Fight fire with fire?”

You snorted. “Pretty much, right? We just have to, you know, swoop in whenever we can to counteract their movements. Help each other out, y’know?” You laughed at how ridiculous this all sounded. “I guess it’s really just doing what they’ve wanted us to do this whole time.”

Kevin grinned to himself. “Spend time together?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m down for that. You?”

“Yeah, man.” You shifted to angle your body toward him and stuck your hand out. “You still remember it, right?”

Kevin sent you an incredulous look, as if offended that you could think so lowly of him. He reflected your angled body, hand primed and ready. “Uh, yeah. Do you remember it?”

You clicked your tongue. “Of course, I do! It's the seal."

You knocked the back of your hand against his to signal the beginning of the handshake.

Like second nature, the two of you made your way through the unnecessarily (but also completely necessary) convoluted masterpiece that was your sixth grade handshake. It was what you used the first time you sealed the deal on the pact, and whenever you made any other agreements of significance (e.g. the Juice Pouch Accord of Eighth Grade). Now, it would seal the Rescue Protocol/Damsel in Distress Deal, too.

When the handshake combination finished (marked by twin flicks to the forehead—"Ow! You always flick so hard.”; “Yikes, hope that doesn’t leave a mark…”—and a… proper handshake), the only thing left to do was put it into motion.

Teasing, you sent him a look of approval. “You did remember.”

“Funny how you say that as if you have the better memory out of the two of us,” he quipped back with an unimpressed look.

You hummed your own amusement back to him, taking the book that you’d set aside earlier back into your lap but leaving it unopened. There wasn’t any signal in this area, so devices were practically useless, so books and board games and sports became the go-to for entertainment. It was what your parents originally liked so much about the place, and eventually you and your siblings. It allowed for moments between the moments like this… whatever this was.

Kevin leaned back onto his palms again, and the shadows and moonlight cut across his jawline like glass. “I didn’t think you’d be up so late.”

“Yeah,” you drawled and picked at a strand of grass sticking out between the boards of a stair step. “I couldn’t sleep for some reason and decided to read, but then I opened my window and realized it was a nice night out, so here I am.” You nodded to him, “You?”

He gave a soft sort of chuckle. “You know I never sleep.”

Your chest felt heavy all of a sudden. “Still have the sleeping issue?” You asked softly. It had been a big thing when he was a kid. It had started off as being a very light sleeper, but over time, you discovered that sometimes Kevin just did not get sleep.

“Yeah…” he said, "I'm usually able to sleep when I'm here though, y'know? The peace, the quiet, the familiarity—it all helps. It was just tonight that was out of the ordinary." When he glanced over at you, the side of his lip quirked upward. "Don't worry too much."

You'd always thought about the lake as your home away from home, your safe space. A part of you had always thought it was the same way for him.

“How could I not worry?" You asked, poorly masking your concern as you leaned over your knees and looked at him. “How did you ever get used to your place at uni?” There must have been some reason that he was able to survive over there.

The corners of his mouth curled upward into a smile. “I was lucky,” he admitted. “I met people who have become some of my best friends and family. I guess it’s just weird being so far away from them and it's catching up to me.”

As much teasing as you did about this Jacob character, you were glad Kevin had found him and his other friends. Being away from home like that could not have been easy. At least you could rest assured that he was taken care of over there.

He had grown so comfortable over there that even his subconscious missed them.

You shifted a little closer to him and gently leaned your head onto his shoulder. He seemed surprised at first, but relaxed and let you keep your head there. “That’s good,” you whispered. “I’m happy for you.”

A beat passed, and the crazy thought occurred to you that maybe you should have asked to do this first. “Is this okay?”

His hand warmed the top of your head. “More than okay.”

The two of you sat there like that for however long—you couldn’t really tell. Time passed by differently here, it seemed. Friends definitely comforted each other like this though, right? Right.

EPISODE FIVE: [SHENANIGANS ENSUE.]

"KEVIN, would you mind giving this snack pack to Serena?"

"Oh, I got it, Auntie!" You snatched the Ziploc bag of trail mix from off the counter where Kevin's mom had set it out. "I haven't properly introduced myself to her yet," you said as some kind of explanation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kevin look away to conceal his laugh at your inconspicuousness.

Today, the five families planned to go on a long nature hike as a large group. There was a specific path that your family, the Moons, and the Kims always took at least once every year that led out to a waterfall. It was a beautiful slice of nature, but then again, you thought this entire area was beautiful.

You swung out of the Moons' kitchen and out onto the back lawn where everyone was slowly gathering to take off. Eyes scanning the immediate area, you located Serena Xu standing off to the side plaiting her hair into a simple braid over her shoulder.

As you made your way over to her, your Uncle Jin suddenly appeared beside you. “You look like a woman on a mission, Yn-ie. What’s the sitch?”

Your brain took a second to register the reference. “Has Sana been watching Kim Possible or have you, Uncle?”

“And if I said it was both of us?” He sniffed. Sana was his eldest daughter, only three years old, but Jin and Yuna were very updated in the essential kids shows they wanted their daughters to watch.

“As you should,” you said with an indulgent nod. You turned your gaze over to your intended target.

Serena’s eyes wandered up from her hair and met your eyes, then glanced over at Jin. You hoped she didn’t think the two of you were ganging up on her or anything. Two new people at once could be intimidating.

“Hi, Serena, right?” You asked as you and Jin approached her.

She gave a small nod, pulling her braid’s end over her shoulder as she fidgeted with it. “Uh, yeah. And you’re Yn?”

“We already met yesterday,” Jin said chipperly.

Serena nodded again.

Your fingers danced along the edge of the Ziploc baggie in your hands, squeezing along the edge to make sure that it was closed properly. Your teeth ran over your bottom lip before you were passing her the bag in your hands. “Kevin’s mom made all of us snack bags, and I just wanted to say a proper hello.”

She accepted the bag, eyes wide as she inspected its contents through the clear plastic. “Oh, wow. Thank you; that’s really thoughtful.”

“Oh!” Seokjin illuminated like a lightbulb, clapping his hands loud enough to make both you and Serena wince. (You and she met each other’s eyes with awkward laughs.) “Didn’t you mention yesterday that you were pre-law?”

Your eyebrows flew upward. “Pre-law?” Your head bobbed up and down with a low whistle. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess so,” she said. “It’s a little intimidating right now, if I’m being honest.”

“Yn!” Ripped out of the conversation, you excused yourself and found the source of your name. Your mom was perched on one of the picnic benches outside of the Moons’ place, slathering sunscreen on your brother’s face. Connor’s face was wrinkled in extreme displeasure as she patted the white cream into his skin with a slapping sound.

Always amusing.

Perched upon the picnic table next to them was none other than Joshua Hong. He sent you a friendly greeting wave.

“What’s up?” You asked, leaving Uncle Jin with Serena so you could make your way over to your chagrined little brother, your mom, and Joshua. “Where’s Dad and Alice? Hey Josh.”

He replied pleasantly, “Hey Yn.”

“Your dad’s grabbing something from the car with her,” she dismissed. “Would you mind showing Joshua where we put our bandages? We have so many of the little ones—”

“It’s just a little cut; I swear I’m fine!” Joshua chuckled good-naturedly. He showed you the slice in the side of his finger that was only a couple of centimeters long, but you could tell that he’d just recently cleaned it up and was holding it with a small piece of napkin.

Your mom made a noise of disagreement. “It’s going to get infected on the hike.”

You shuffled on your feet, offering him a small smile. “Sorry, man. I have to agree with her.”

“Thank you. You remember where the bandages are, right? You and Josh just go run up really quick together.”

You didn’t even realize when Kevin got here. “Oh, why don’t I just get one from my place for you?” Kevin waltzed into the conversation with an innocent expression, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts, as he appeared at your side. “Since we’re just right here.”

Joshua gestured toward him with his hand-clutching-hand situation and hopped off from the picnic table top. “If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, dude, it’s no problem.” Kevin’s hand met the place between your shoulders with a warm pat, and he led Joshua up to his family’s cabin for the bandages.

Your amusement followed after them as you watched them leave. Your mom sent you a curious look, eyes narrowed in question, and you could only shrug helplessly.

The hike commenced shortly after the boys got back from raiding the Moon’s medicine cabinet. Your dad and Alice returned sometime before they did, and Alice had once again requested you put her hair up in, as she said, “Something nice.” As if the wilderness would care about her nice hair-do, but you gave her a plait that matched Serena’s.

Your brother and sister kept near to you as you led the group through the beginning of the trail. Though you didn’t consider yourself as someone who exercised religiously, you never turned down a good foraging session. Your freshman environmental science course had presented you with plenty of opportunity to dive into the dense forest areas near the building. Even in the early reaches of the morning (8:30 morning labs were sometimes difficult to be disciplined about, but you were determined), when the fog clung to the forest floor and dew slipped down velvety oak leaves, you found yourself at peace.

At some point in time, Connor picked up a large fallen stick and used it as a hiking staff. “You shall not pass!” He declared after running a little ways ahead of you and mimicked the deepness of Gandolf’s voice.

You snorted as you passed by him and ruffled his hair. “Name the series that’s from and then we can talk, dude.”

“You’re never any fun!” Connor garbled, jogging after you.

You scoffed, pressing a hand against your chest in feigned offense. “I’m way more fun than you are,” you retorted.

“Okay, prove it! Make this more fun.”

“So you’re saying this hike isn’t fun?” You gasped.

Connor stabbed at the dirt path warn into the ground that weaved through the trees ahead for miles. It was by no means a challenging hike, just a lengthy one that required a bit of enthusiasm and endurance. “Well last time, you brought that thing—”

“Sugar water,” you supplied.

“—yeah, that one—and we caught butterflies!” Painted Lady butterflies were a common species of butterfly that was widespread among North America. Luckily, it hadn't been too difficult to find them.

“Woah, you guys caught butterflies last year? Without me?” Man, this guy was just everywhere today, you thought jokingly, as Kevin appeared on your other side with a boyish grin on his face. “That’s cool.”

“We didn’t catch them,” you corrected. It was more so a lure with the sugar water (a substitute for nectar), letting the kids see the insect up close, and then setting it free. You were no lepidopterologist—butterflies were cool, but no special interest of yours. “They just landed in my hand for a little. You should’ve been there to take pictures.”

Kevin hit the palm of hand against his forehead. “That’s what I forgot! I forgot to bring my camera on the hike.”

“Tsk tsk, what would your sister say now?” You chided playfully.

He pressed his lips together in a grimace. “Don’t bring her up—I can hear the echo of her voice as we speak.” To prove his point, he pressed his fingers to his temples, eyes fluttering closed, as if he really could hear his sister’s teasing from wherever she was.

You humored him with a laugh—

“Yn! I’m gonna climb that boulder!”

Okay, fun time was over. You tracked the sound of your brother’s voice, and with barely enough time to catch up to him, you set off the beaten path to follow. “Hey, you better be careful or Mom’s gonna put you on bedrest for the rest of the trip,” you chuckled as Kevin fell in step beside you. You said to him offhandedly, “Would you possibly mind…”

“Yeah, I got it.” He did a small jog over to the cluster of boulders your brother had begun to scale. Going bouldering wasn’t a new activity for you and your siblings, but you remembered that these ones were a little larger than your mom was usually comfortable with. You were grateful Kevin understood immediately.

He was already standing below where Connor was, playing along with whatever roleplay your brother had made up, all the while hovering in case he fell.

The rest of the party caught up to you at this point, and Alice, Uncle Jin, Sana, and even Josh converged upon the rock formation in a flurry of giggles and mirthful playtime. You observed the action with ill-concealed fondness for everyone there as they came together and helped one another climb to the topmost boulder as if it were the peak of Mount Everest. Something warmed within you at the sight.

On your left, Yuna, who was on Leena duty this morning, came to stand beside you. Some of the parents were pulling out cell phones to record all the chaos going on. “Why don’t you go up with them?” She asked, inclining her head to the rock formation.

Josh was just beckoning Kevin up with him, and you saw Kevin’s head turned back over his shoulder. When his eyes found yours, Kevin waved you over, too.

“I should,” you murmured in agreement.

Yuna hummed as she adjusted the little bonnet on Leena’s head. “You know, Kevin…” she began. You waited for her to finish, but she smiled instead, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Go have fun, you bean.”

You giggled at the nickname, then wasted little time going to join everyone else. You could probably ask her what she was going to say later.

The evening found the group of you gathered on the shady back lawn between yours and the Moons’ cabin for dinner once again. The Xus and Hongs had all retired to their own respective houses for downtime, so it would just be the three original families. You perched a little ways away on the back stairs of your house’s porch, a bowl of peelable tangerines in your lap. At your feet, you had rolled the edges of a brown paper bag you’d found beneath the sink to use as a disposal. All of the compostable waste you and everyone else produced while here would become great fertilizer and mulch. It was something you usually had your siblings help with, especially before you left the lake.

Kevin had his cap turned backwards as he made his way over to you in flip flops. “That seat taken?” He asked with a nod toward the board next to you.

Your eyebrows rose. “All yours.”

“Thanks,” he beamed, doing a silly waddle, then sitting down next to you. He reached into the bowl on your lap for an orange, and you moved the compost bag between your bodies. “Your mom was talking about Josh again,” he said as he dug his thumb into the skin of the tangerine. Its juices sprayed into the air and released its sweet fragrance.

“Why am I not surprised?” You sighed with a shake of his head. “You know, he’s really good with my siblings though.”

“Oh, is he?”

You shrugged, shoveling a tangerine half into your mouth. “Mm—yeah,” you said once you’d swallowed. “But you’re also good with my siblings. I dunno, it was just an observation.” Based on what you saw on the hike, you could confidently conclude that your siblings agreed with both Kevin and Josh. They were both friendly beyond means, easy on the eyes, kind on the soul.

Kevin didn’t say anything for a beat, and still didn’t say anything until he’d finished the orange in his hands and picked up a new one. “I hear he’s going into medicine. I have a friend who’s going into medicine.”

“Which one?” You asked, then joked, “Don’t tell me it’s Jacob now…”

When Kevin gave you a sheepish expression, you shook your head, “Okay, now I think you’re obsessed with this guy.” All the teasing was in good fun, of course.

“He’s just my soulmate,” he lamented with a hand draped over his forehead for added effect. “No biggie.”

“Damn,” you laughed. You popped a wedge of tangerine into your mouth, eyes going to the sky for a moment as you pondered on something. “So you say that when Jacob met his current girlfriend, it was because of you.”

“Yup.”

“So you set them up? You matchmade them?”

He nodded. “I’m very proud of myself, actually. I take credit for all of their milestones and anniversaries. I better be the Best Man at their wedding, and—”

“But you matchmade them; doesn’t that make you a hypocrite?”

Kevin’s speech came to an abrupt halt. You watched, in blatant amusement, as his face contorted and arranged itself in the five stages of grief. “Oh my god… I am a hypocrite.”

For a moment, you felt bad for laughing at his blanched expression. “It doesn’t make you a bad person,” you assured him.

“It makes me a hypocrite.” He hung his head, but shot back up just as quickly. “Okay, but wait! It’s different.”

“Do tell.”

“It’s different because Jacob never told me he didn’t want to be matchmade.” The calculations taking place in his head were as stark to you, the observer, as if he was working it out on a white board. His eyebrows knitted together. “Yeah. That’s the difference. Plus, that match was fully successful, and he ended up putting in a lot of the work himself by the end anyway.”

You bobbed your head in agreement. “Fair enough.”

Kevin settled his chin on his hand, eyes slicing back over to you. “Aren’t you a hypocrite, too, then?”

You blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His face said it all. “Jenna from fifth grade.”

Oh. It all came rushing back to you…

But before anything else could be commented on the matter (read: before you could go through your own miniature existential crisis like Kevin had), a presence appeared, squatting down between the two of you. “What—” Jin covered Leena’s ears as he sat down, “—is the mother-effing tea?”

You and Kevin immediately scooted over to make room for the uncle coming in hot. You moved the compost bag back to the other side of your leg.

Kevin chuckled. “You said ‘mother-effing.’”

“Aish,” he exhaled, wrinkling his nose up. “Yuna’s on relax mode right now and has two beers in her. I get a pass, okay? Now catch me up on all of the exciting stuff.”

You and Kevin traded glances. “What exciting stuff?”

Jin’s expression flattened into a deadpan. “Don’t be like that. You two have been so secretive lately; I wanna be let in on the secret stuff.”

“I don’t know if it’s necessarily a secret…” You drawled.

Kevin scratched the back of his head. “Uh, yeah. Well, we’ve kind of figured out that our moms are trying to set us up with Josh and Serena instead of each other now.”

You didn't know what you were expecting Uncle Jin to reply, but he gave a nod. "Ah, I can see that." He sucked in a breath through his teeth, "Why did they suddenly go 360 on the two of you? It seems kind of out of left field."

"Well, we kind of asked them to stop trying to get us two together."

Jin hummed. "Yah, that makes sense. It all makes sense now." He made an old-man noise out of his throat as he shifted his position and the way that Leena rested on his chest. You and Kevin buckled down and hung off his words. "They probably only mean well, you know that, right? Right. But I can see that you both are still uneasy about that, and I get that, too. So—I'll tell you what.

"I'll help you guys out," he said. "I think they already know I'm nosy enough to butt in everywhere, so it shouldn't be a problem for me to… tch tch, y'know—" He gestured very indulgently with his hands, "—do my thing—am I making any sense? It's been a long day."

Another look passed between you and Kevin, then you both shared a laugh, relief making your postures relax and your grins widen. "No, we understand completely."

It seemed like you just gained an ally.

EPISODE SIX: CAN I BE A ROCK IN MY NEXT LIFE? THANKS.

THERE was a collection of jet skis that someone around the lake owned, and Kevin's parents would rent them out once every summer for everyone to use. Of course, it was mainly for the older kids and adults; thus, your siblings and the little Kims were banned from partaking in the festivities, much to your siblings' chagrin. It was for safety reasons that they were forced to find some other method of entertainment for the day.

You trudged your way down the path from the Kims' house to yours. In your hand, you wielded the light blue stick of baby sunscreen Seokjin asked you to fetch for his girls, but based on the fact that Leena, Sana, nor Yuna were even out here, it was safe to assume it was really for him.

Those who were participating in riding jet skis, and some who just wanted to watch and soak up the summer sun, were gathered somewhere between your house and the Moon house again. The two properties shared a single dock made of wood faded out from the sun and washed by the lake water. You could recall summer after summer running down the pier and cannonballing into the water.

"Hey! I got your sunscreen!" You hollered as you neared the group down by the water, raising the sunscreen stick up in the air.

The five or so heads turned toward you at the sound of your voice. You didn't miss Kevin's presence specifically, his arms sticking out from the life vest strapped to his chest. You did not deign to look further.

Jin raised his hand. "My Savior! Thanks, Yn-ie!"

You tossed the sunscreen down to him and he caught it between both of his hands before beginning to slather the cream all over his face.

You noted the last life vest sitting on the edge of the dock closest to land and made a beeline for it.

Just as you descended the hill, your mom appeared in your view with an empty plate in her hands, the bottom ringed in a translucent red liquid. "Yn, honey. Can you do me a huge favor and chop up the last watermelon? I didn't realize we would need more. Your dad and Kevin's dad are driving into town right now for some extra provisions and an extra large watermelon."

"Oh, sure." Your eyes skittered to the vest on the dock, but you realized slicing the watermelon wouldn't take too long.

You took the plate from your mom without further comment and began making your way up the hill to your house.

As you slid the door open, the sound of chatter carried from the living room floor. Eyes peered up from where they were seated, surrounding the coffee table on the floor. A colorful array of beads and string was strewn over the surface, and you came to a distinct conclusion as to where all the non-jet-skiers had gone.

"Hello everyone," you mused, closing the screen door behind you.

Josh was the first to say hello back. "Wanna join us? We're making friendship bracelets." He lifted the craft in his hands as if the beads and materials displayed weren't proof enough.

You leaned over the back of the couch. "Looks like fun! Maybe I will."

Outside by the lake, Kevin monitored the back door of your cabin for when you would make your way back out. He had been wanting to race you on a jet ski ever since the owners brought them over for everyone to use.

There were a grand total of five people surrounding the opening to the dock: Kevin and his mom, your mom, Jin, and Serena. Everyone except for the moms were strapped in lifejackets in preparation to board one of the two jet skis sitting in port.

"Huh," Jin said as he craned his head up in the direction Kevin's was in. "Wonder what's taking her so long."

"I'm sure she's just taking her time or something." Kevin pushed off of the post he was leaning against. "I'll go check up on her—"

“Oh, no-no-no! It’s okay,” your mom protested, her body already turn-tailed to head up to the house. Even Kevin’s mom made a gesture for him to stay put. “We’ll go check up on Yn.”

Kevin’s mom then gestured with her arm toward Serena, who had wandered off further down the dock to inspect one of the vehicles waiting in the water. “Why don’t you go help her with the jet ski?”

“And me!” Seokjin boisterously slung an arm around his cousin-in-law’s shoulders and swung him toward the entrance of the pier.

Kevin’s eyes went wide when he almost tumbled face-first into the hardwood. “Shit,” he sputtered. “Uh, Uncle Jin?”

“Yep?”

“That sounded fishy to you, too, right?”

Jin let out a laugh and patted Kevin’s shoulder in consolation. “Yep.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all afternoon.” The words left your mouth as you blocked the unforgiving golden hour sun with a hand to your forehead. The light at this time of day gleamed across the surface of the lake and gave the illusion of a molten pot of gold. You imagined swimming in it, dipping your toes into its warm innards from the end of the dock.

Kevin stood at the edge of the lake’s shoreline with his hair dried from a day of jet skiing, a fresh T-shirt over his chest and the lifejacket from earlier nowhere to be seen. That, along with the jet skis. Those had been returned a little over an hour ago. “We were off doing our separate things, I guess,” he said, his arms folded across his chest. “Speaking of, where’ve you been? You went to cut watermelon and never came back.” He added a small laugh to his words, hoping you wouldn’t think he was bothered by the fact that the two of you didn’t get to hang out on jet skis together.

“Oh, heh.” The sheepishness in your voice made him glance over at you. You didn’t know why you were suddenly getting so shy about it, but from the pocket of your shorts, you withdrew a small piece of beaded string, tied at the end in one of those fancy loops that were adjustable. You didn’t know how it was done; Joshua had done something with the end like magic. “Yuna, Josh, and the kids were all inside making friendship bracelets and they kind of roped me into it.”

“Ah.”

“This one’s for you,” you said, holding it out to him. It was a quirky piece with white block letter beads strung together next to acrylic star and pony beads. You’d scavenged a crescent moon somewhere amongst all the pandemonium, and it sat next to the letter N on the chain.

Kevin peered at you and his irises gleamed with the brilliance of golden hour. He frowned in joy, delicately accepting the chain from you with his bottom lip jutted out in a combination frown-pout. “You’re incredible,” he gushed as he inspected the little gift. “Dude, I’m honestly so touched. This is so cute.”

You broke out into a grin, your heart bursting with pride in your chest. “Glad it’s not cringy.”

“I’m offended for you,” he scoffed, aghast. “How could you think this is cringy?” It was probably a genuine question, but you kept silent as you watched him loop the end of the bracelet around his wrist and struggled to figure out how to tie off the end with one hand.

You stepped forward, and he stuck his hand out to you. “Shua showed me how this works,” you murmured, wracking your brain for the quick how-to Joshua showed with his own wrist. (You had been too confused to ask him to see it done again, and only nodded and smiled.)

“Shua?”

“Mm, yeah, apparently he makes a lot of friendship bracelets, especially for friends at school.” Your tongue stuck out of the corner of your mouth as you tried something and… “Ta-da!”

With the bracelet secured onto his wrist, Kevin beamed like a kid on Christmas, and held it up to show it to the setting sun. “It’s great—it’s perfect. Thank you, Yn.”

It was some sort of cosmic magic that corralled everyone back down to the shoreline again, but this time, with all of the kids and non-jet-skiers, as well. Another tradition that your party liked to share every year at the lake was rock-skipping. Perhaps it was more of just an activity than a tradition, but it was something that none of you failed to remember to do whenever you were up here. Since you were a kid, you had been practicing to hone your technique.

Your siblings and the Kims, especially, all ran up to the shoreline beside you and Kevin, and the search for the perfect throwing rock began. In the chaos of merriment and childlike glee, the lot of you trudged into the cooling water of the lake’s shallow shore.

“I know you just gave me the coolest friendship bracelet ever,” said Kevin from beside you as he sifted through the rocks beneath his flip flops, “but I hope you know that I’m gonna crush you this year.”

You snorted. “Okay, Kevin.”

“No, I’m serious!” You guffawed at the sight of his expression; he’d even stood up straight in the water, a pair of flat stones in either hand. “My friend YH!Yn—she’s an engineer, right—”

“Oh, so you’re gonna win by cheating?”

“Nuh-uh,” he rolled his eyes, unimpressed by your posturing. “She showed me this video online. You know Mark Rober? She’s a huge fan, but that’s besides the point. The point is that the video taught me the perfect technique to rock-skip.”

Something in you liked to think that was still cheating, but then again, neither of you had ever really established any ground rules to this, and certainly none about doing research. Your eyes narrowed. “Explain yourself.”

Kevin decided between one of the two rocks in his hands with a brief peek at both of them, before discarding the one in his left hand back into the water with an anticlimactic sploosh. “You’re supposed to launch the rock so it hits the surface of the water at a twenty-degree angle.”

Joshua trudged into the water near both you and Kevin with the sleeves of his plaid over-shirt rolled past his elbows. “I don’t even know what kind of rock to look for, and you guys are bringing trig into this?”

“Oh my god, don’t even get them started,” Jin grumbled from a handful of meters away from the three of you. He kicked through the shallow water with his eyes pinned to the ground in his own search for a rock to skip. “Yn almost gave me a black eye one year.”

“That was an accident and I was ten!”

“Yeah, well rocks hurt!”

Joshua bent down slightly and scooped up a rock from the water. He considered it for a minute, taking in its size, its weight, and how pretty it was. “I guess this can work. So do you guys have, like, a training boot camp for beginners or something?” He chuckled.

“I can show you,” you offered once you’d decided on your own rock for the first round.

“Tch,” Kevin huffed, “if you wanna show him the wrong way to do it.”

Your jaw unhinged. “If you keep this up, I will take back that friendship bracelet, Moon Hyungseo.”

Jin covered his mouth with one of his hands and sidled up next to Joshua. “Ooh, she used the government name.” That coaxed another laugh out of the Los Angeles boy.

Kevin held his decorated wrist to his chest. “You can pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Suffice to say that when it came down to it, Kevin did have the better technique. There were really four main things to consider when rock-skipping, one of them being that the rock ideally should hit the water at twenty-degrees, as Kevin had mentioned before. Though, you did have to give yourself some credit for managing to work your way up to thirteen skips in a row without the help of an engineer friend.

EPISODE SEVEN: ALWAYS TREAT YOUR PLANTS WITH CARE

VACATION granted you the express permission to be the laziest bum in the world. After three years of college work, sometimes it was nice to have even a single day to yourself to do what you always wanted to: relax. In a world that moved as fast as this one, it was nearly impossible to take breaks without feeling the aching guilt of a day without productivity.

But there was something about the lake… you didn't know. Maybe it was just because years of coming here and associating it with the ease and carefree air of childhood that made it easier to sleep in and feel the sun on your toes.

The house and the neighboring ones were quiet this late morning. At ten or so, the Kims had swept up your siblings and their children and towed them off to town for ice cream and provisions. (You hoped they remembered to grab you some bird seed. You still had yet to replenish the bird feeders around the lake.) You weren't sure where your parents were off to, but you recalled them briefly mentioning a visit to the hidden swing at Lookout's Peak about a three mile hike from here. That meant that you had the whole house to yourself.

And what else did that mean? That you would not be in the house.

When it hit noon, you ate a quick lunch at the kitchen counter before gathering up your supplies to head outside. There was always a spare picnic blanket stashed in the hallway closet, and you grabbed a book, your neglected sketchbook, and a pencil to come along with you.

The weather was perfect, you liked to think—temperate, and not popsicle-melting, with a hint of a breeze wafting through the boughs of the oak trees. You trudged your way over to the largest oak tree with the most amount of shade, gunning to get some full relaxing done when you realized that you were not as alone as you thought you were.

You and Kevin locked eyes from where he sat against the trunk of the tree, his iPad left at his side and his camera being fiddled with between his fingers. The friendship bracelet you gave him the other day still hung around his wrist.

"Hi," he grinned. "I thought you went into town with the twins."

"Ah, nah" you sighed pleasantly as you shifted the things in your arms, "I decided to sleep in. You?"

"Same here." He amended, "Well, as much as someone like me can sleep in." He gestured to the picnic blanket bundled over your arm. "How about I help you with that?"

With teamwork (because that made the dream work), the two of you laid out the picnic blanket on the shady grass beneath the oak tree, overlooking the view of the lake. You settled yourself atop it while Kevin moved his things beside you; shoes were discarded at the edge, so you both sat comfortably on the blanket, half-facing the other.

You reached for your sketchbook, inclining your chin toward the DSLR now sitting abandoned as he picked up his iPad. "What were you up to before I got here?"

"Oh, uh, just looking through some photos I took this morning to maybe use as a reference," he said, twirling his Apple pencil between his fingers. "I keep forgetting to take pictures on this trip."

"Maybe it's a good thing," you offered. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and flipped to a blank page. "Let's you live in the moment, y'know?"

"Yeah. I guess so." He tapped the end of his pencil against his cheek. You were never the type for fancy technology and equipment, mainly because you were a little stubborn, but nothing could beat a good pencil and paper. "I'm gonna draw you," he suddenly declared.

A giggle bubbled out of your chest. "What? Me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well then, I'm gonna draw you."

His eyebrows shot up, an amused smile worming onto his face. "You do you, honey."

The two of you, coincidentally, came to share quite the handful of interests. One of them was sketching, and you liked to give credit to your ecology and biology classes at school that gave you the time to practice your drawing skills, even if super accurate drawings weren't always required. It just gave you an excuse to combine two things you loved.

You never did pick up how to use a DSLR though. At least, not like Kevin knew how to.

You sat there for a moment with your cheek to your fist and your eyes glued to the man across from you. Drawing people was difficult—it was always the subtle details that threw you overboard, the movement of the hands and fingers, the crevices in the wrinkle of one's eyes, the… the look. The thing that made them look like a human being.

Kevin had always been a beautiful subject matter. His bone structure was near perfect in your eyes; his smile was awful to draw just because it was so pretty, and you couldn't do it justice. You could never achieve the right curl of his lips, or infuse it with his humility. And even now, you watched the way his eyelashes fell so gently over his eyes and the dusting of pink falling across his cheekbones…

"You're staring."

You blinked, breaking out of your daze. "I'm studying my subject," you clarified pointedly and began to sketch out a rough outline of his head. A portrait would do just fine for the day.

Kevin mimicked your position from earlier where he leaned in slightly and rested his cheek against his fist. "There was this internship I turned down this summer."

His words made you glance up from your paper for a moment.

He continued on, straightening, then absentmindedly sketching out an outline for your face. "It was supposed to be in New York, at this studio, but…" He blew air out between his lips, "I don't know; I couldn't do it. It was a great opportunity and it didn't call to me, but I feel so guilty about not even trying."

You waited a beat in case he wanted to continue. You could see the conflict warring across this face, the subtle flex in his jaw at his frustration—with the portrait or himself, you weren't sure.

"Sorry, I don't know why I suddenly just thought of that," he said to you. "I was just thinking about this place and not being here last year, and I think my brain just went to that."

You looked over at him in earnest. "I feel you, I mean… some things just aren't meant to be, and you shouldn't force it. That's how you get burnt out, y'know?"

"Yeah," he murmured in agreement.

"I was looking at an internship, too," you piped up with a shape exhale. "I—I didn't get it, clearly, but uhm…" It still hurt.

Kevin frowned. "Oh, man. I'm sorry, Yn. I feel like I'm just complaining now that—"

"No, oh my gosh, no!" You hurried to interrupt him. "Don't be silly," you said gently, "you shouldn't invalidate your feelings like that. Some things just really aren't meant to be." It didn't mean it hurt any less that they weren't, but maybe this was the path you were meant to take instead. "It's something I'm coming to terms with, too, but don't compare your troubles against mine. Please."

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, and it took him a little to finally try for a half smile. "You're gonna get the next one."

You smiled back at him. "Thanks. And you'll find one that suits you."

"I hope so."

"Do you ever worry about," you began as you played around with the slightest curve of his nose on your paper, "not being who people want you to be?"

He hummed. "What do you mean?"

"Like, successful. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this." You didn't know where this had sprouted from in the first place, but one insecurity in particular had nested in the inner cavities of your chest and made itself a home. As someone who wanted to be at wildlife encampments, not catering to fancy rich dogs in a clinic, your path wasn't conventional. You were becoming a veterinarian, but your parents always thought you would end up someplace nice with a pay that was equally nice. Something practical, something they didn't have to worry over. Your calling was… elsewhere though. Somewhere a little more difficult to reach without the prying eyes and mouths of those around you.

Kevin marinated on it. "I think… the two of us are kind of similar in that way. We're both not taking on things that people have expected of us."

Out of everyone you knew, you had a feeling he would be one of the few who could empathize. "There's—there's this thing I want to do," you said. You couldn't figure out the words to string your thoughts into coherent speech; you felt like it would never come out right. But Kevin was patient. "I've always wanted to go on safari expeditions, and observe wildlife in the wild, and do research, and work with conservatories. It feels so unattainable sometimes, when I think about the people looking at me and expecting something good. Does that make sense?"

He gave a thoughtful nod, his Apple pencil tucked behind his ear for the time being. "Yeah, that makes sense. I remember you talked about it before."

That rang a bell. "When I made you watch the David Attenborough Our Planet doc series," you mused. In association, your brain sparked images of late nights, blue-light screens, and flashlights beneath blanket forts. You had been fully convinced Kevin would say the documentary series would be boring like everyone else, but to your pleasant surprise, he had been just as enthralled as you'd been.

"You didn't make me," he smiled. "I liked it."

Your chest warmed. "I still have it downloaded on my phone if you wanna watch."

He screwed his face up in amusement, shaking his head. "You're one of the biggest dorks I know. And I know so many dorks now."

"I'm still your favorite dork though, right?" You smiled down at your paper when you were satisfied with how his eyes turned out.

"Always."

A beat passed, and from your periphery, you saw him tap the blanket in front of you to get your attention.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay," he said. "One day, you will go hide in a bunker in the Siberian winter to wait for tigers like a crazy person—"

"Okay, wait, out of all the examples you watched in the doc, you chose—"

"Anyways!" He grinned at the look you sent him, unfazed. "We're both gonna be okay, alright? We're chasing dreams, and sometimes the chase is hard, but the reward is sweet."

You knew he was right; of course he was right. Talking things out was always a good idea, especially with a trusted person, and who better to trust than Kevin Moon? You had friends who understood, but not really understood.

You reached for his pencil with the end of yours and you bumped ends like ET. The corners of your lips curled upward as you met his gaze, and you were struck by the softness in his rich, chocolate irises. No sketch, painting, portrait could do those beautiful eyes justice. "Don't call me a nerd for this."

"No promises."

You fixed him with a look. "There's this thing that plants do called phototropism. Because plants need light to synthesize into food and energy, they often turn and grow towards the nearest light source. So even in, let's say, a dark hole in the ground—if there's a crack in the roof that brings light in, the plant will grow in that direction, and probably grow its way out." You cleared your throat. "Thanks for showing me the light."

Kevin's eyes shone big and wide, doe-like you liked to say, almost in awe of the explanation of a basic function plants performed to survive. But twisted in a certain way, and one could apply it to everyday non-plant life, as well.

"Now how can I possibly call you a nerd after that?" His voice went raspy and he had to clear it, too. "I think I'm getting misty-eyed," he said, fanning his eyes.

You chuckled at his antics. "Oh, hush. I guess it's my way of saying thanks for reminding me I'm not gonna be a failure." It was scary how often you thought about it, especially at college.

Kevin reached over and warmed one of your hands with his. "You're not gonna be a failure, Yn. I promise you that."

All of the kids were asleep in the back of the Kims' minivan, and it took two trips back and forth between the car and the living room to transfer all four sleeping munchkins. By the time Jin and Yuna were done, the former was certain he was going to need a cane much earlier in his life than previously anticipated.

He held his back as they made their way out onto the back porch. "I think I'm aging faster," he said to his partner.

Yuna sputtered out a laugh. "Aye, so dramatic, and for what? You're gonna survive."

"No sympathy," he sighed melodramatically as he hung off her frame. "I wonder where everyone else is."

His voice trailed off as they stood on the porch and overlooked the valley below. Just further out, they could easily see the occupants of the big oak tree between yours and the Moons' houses. You and Kevin sat slightly angled toward one another, not quite sitting next to each other, but not quite facing each other either.

The laughter was apparent on your faces as Kevin showed you something on his iPad. You grabbed the screen with ill-concealed delight, your eyes lighting up like a pair of fireflies. "No, oh my god, the little sprout on top of my head! You didn't!"

Yuna murmured softly to her lover with a chuckle, "Should we go say hello?"

Seokjin adjusted his position so now his arm rested around her shoulders. A smile etched onto his face at the view; he was so fond of the very thing neither you nor Kevin could see just yet. "Well, how could you possibly want to break that up?"

EPISODE EIGHT: NOD AND SMILE… YUP.

YOU weren't really sure why it took so long before you all deigned to take a proper dip in the lake, but as they said, better late than never.

The sun beat down on the little lake population, even at ten in the morning, which made it perfect weather to go swimming. Your house was a-bustle with life, thunderous footsteps, and motherly yelling to her children of “You better all have sunscreen on!” You were just finishing up the task yourself, rubbing in the last handprint of sunblock onto your calf before you were grabbing your towel at the end of your bed and heading out.

You caught Alice coming down the stairs with her floral one-piece on and a set of blue goggles strapped to her head. This morning, her hair was in two braids. “Do you have sunscreen on?” You asked her as you opened the back screen door.

“Yes,” she groaned as if this was the hundredth time she’d been asked that question today. Knowing your family, it probably was the hundredth time. “Do we still have the flamingo floatie?”

“We can probably pop down to the shed and see,” you suggested. You blinked in surprise at the person you found leaning against the railing of your back porch. “Why hello there.”

Joshua glanced up from the piece of string in his hands that he had tied at the ends to form one, large ring. “Hi guys! Either of you ladies know how to play Cat’s Cradle?” His hands slipped in between the string so that the ring rested on the backs of his fingers. In a movement that sent a wave of nostalgia down your spine, he maneuvered his hands through the string to form the zigzag pattern correspondent with the beloved childhood game.

“Ooh! Me, me!” Alice bounced around on the balls of her feet and rushed over to where Josh was to pick out the next pattern.

The screen door behind you opened up again as soon as you stepped foot onto the deck. Your dad appeared with your little brother, both of whom were dressed in rash guards and swim trunks. Your dad hustled his son along. “Yn-ah, we’re going down to the shed to get swimming things. Wanna come?”

“Wait, Daddy, can we get the flamingo floatie?” Alice asked your dad. Joshua finished up the next pattern, and your sister was quick to grab the next.

“Sure. We have to go now, though.”

With little else left to say or do, your dad ferried your little siblings off and around the house to where the shed was. It was tucked out of the way somewhere between your house and the Kims’ place.

You sidled up beside Joshua and slung your towel over your shoulder, noting his tank top and shorts. “You going for a swim with us?”

He gestured to his attire, nodding. “Seems like it. My parents wanted to run into town to do some shopping, see the sights. Your mom mentioned last night that you all were planning to go swimming today, so I thought I’d tag along, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, man—it’s totally cool.”

You gazed far out toward the lake down the lawn. There were already a few people there, including Kevin and the Kims. Sana and Leena were already frolicking around in the water with their dad, while Yuna and Kevin stood off to the side on the dock. It seemed that Yuna had brought down a pair of foldable chairs to set up there, perhaps to soak up a little sun.

The two of them exchanged a couple more words before Yuna left him there so she could go pick up Leena from falling face-first in the water. Leena was still an infant, after all.

You decided that this would be a good time to run and join him, but your thoughts slowed to a halt when Kevin picked up the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. You even heard Joshua beside you lose his breath. The sunlight had to be a paid actor or something, because the way it glowed across your friend’s shoulders, enunciating the firm muscles in his back, had to be illegal in nature.

Joshua’s low whistle of appreciation met your ears. “Wow… he’s ripped.”

You nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah.” Whoops, did you say that out loud?

The man simply chuckled and bounded down the porch. “C’mon, Yn. Let’s go join them before he catches you staring.”

If there was anything else that you and Kevin took seriously besides rock-skipping, it was the game Marco Polo. The rules were simple: an elected tagger would play with their eyes closed, yelling out “Marco” in order to locate other players in the water. The tagger had three or five opportunities to open their eyes (this was enforced for safety reasons) in order to tag everyone. Those who were not the tagger were required to reply with “Polo” in response to the tagger’s call.

Boundaries of the game ranged from your house to Kevin’s house, and no hiding beneath the dock. (Only the tagger could pass beneath that zone.)

By the time it was Kevin’s turn to tag, nearly an hour and a half had gone by, and you could feel the sun’s rays seeping into you. The heat was getting to you, and by the looks on everyone else’s faces, it was getting to them, too. But… one last round never hurt anybody.

"Are you guys ready?" Kevin's mom stood on the dock with her hands on her son's shoulders. Kevin's eyes were screwed shut where he sat on the edge of the dock, his feet swinging where they dangled over the water. Everyone stood scattered in the water, biding their time before Kevin's mom let him hop in.

She surveyed the surrounding water for nods of confirmation. You lingered just at the outer edge of the boundary, face half in the water with your eyes peeking out to hide your smile. You would swim back in should he come this way, but the buoy behind you kept you from cheating.

When she was satisfied with what she saw, she patted him on the shoulders. "Okay, Kevin."

He lowered himself into the water. "Marco!"

"Polo," came the wary response, a voice from every corner and reach of the boundary, it seemed.

He honed in on a voice—not yours, it seemed, but Uncle Jin's—and slowly treaded over toward that direction. You saw your uncle's eyes widen in fear, and he ducked under the water for a swift second to attempt at a silent getaway.

"I can hear you," Kevin chuckled as he swung his arm over his head to adopt a freestyle stroke. The tone of his voice sounded awfully menacing.

"YAH! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Jin screeched, no longer trying to stay quiet.

One by one, Kevin picked people off. Yuna had a little disadvantage since she had Sana clinging to her back the whole time, so she was given a merciful second life. But when she was caught once more, it was onto dry land for her and her daughter.

Kevin treaded water on the other side of the boundary. In the water, it was just you two.

"Fighting, Yn-ie!" Jin cheered from the shore. A towel was draped over his shoulders with Sana sucking on a watermelon by his leg.

You saw your siblings and Josh raise up their fists in encouragement. "Get him, Yn!"

"Wow, thanks guys," Kevin replied dryly, shaking the water out of his hair. His eyes were miraculously still closed; you had no idea how and when he got so good at this. He still had one more opportunity to open his eyes.

You grinned. "Are you sure you're not cheating by the way?" You drawled with a feigned look of consideration, as if he could see what you looked like.

He gasped. "Me? Cheating? My abilities are far greater than the need to cheat."

"Okay, prove it."

Why did the universe curse you with such a big fucking mouth?

A swear left you as he launched himself across the safe zone. It was like he knew exactly where you had been hovering in order to reach his ridiculously long arms over his head to try and tag you. You gunned out of the way, narrowly missing the dock as you backstroked back from where he came to avoid him.

"Marco!"

"Screw you—polo!"

His white teeth glistened as he grinned, eyes closed completely shut still. Damn. "I can smell fear."

"Sometimes you can be so dramatic," you taunted.

"Now that's just hurtful." And he took it personally.

Around and around you both went, lakewater thrashing as your arms and legs kicked and pumped as hard as you could. You felt so agile and free at times, a dolphin in your own right.

There was a lull in the game for a minute when you managed to evade Kevin's grasp yet another time. He was patrolling the other side of the dock while you loitered just around the corner, by a post. You could hear on land that everyone had turned their attention away from yours and Kevin's competitiveness in favor of the bag tossing boards Kevin's dad brought out.

"Oh, Yn," he smiled, brushing a hand through his hair absentmindedly. "I'm gonna get ya."

If you weren't worried about being so close to him, you would have thrown a retort right back.

But there was another poor, poor hinge to your plan, and that was the very core of the game you were playing.

He whispered, "Marco."

You screamed internally. "Polo," you whispered, barely audibly.

His head whipped in your direction, and before you could even blink, he used his shortcut beneath the dock to yank your wrist back toward him. "Gotcha!"

"Goddamn it," you groaned as you rested up against the post behind you. The water in this area was just shallow enough that your feet could reach the bottom.

Kevin chuckled as he finally opened his eyes. He blinked feverishly to adjust to the sunlight, then ran a hand through his slicked-back hair. He was so close that you could see the water droplets on his head dribble down the sharp slope of his nose. He took in his surroundings, a sly kind of smirk curling up onto his face. "No hiding beneath the dock, Yn."

"I technically wasn't beneath the dock," you shot back.

"Mhm," he pressed his lips together, brows furrowing. He moved closer and braced one arm against the post above your head. "Say I believe you."

You brushed the sudden butterflies in your stomach away as the heat melted your brain (and not Kevin). "That sounds like you don't believe me."

"Well, either way…" He brought a finger close to your face and tapped your nose. You could have sworn you saw his eyes dart downwards for a second, away from your eyes, toward your mouth. "I win."

EPISODE NINE: KINDLING FOR ALL KINDS OF FIRES

A campfire was always in order.

There were quite a few things that needed to be done before it could happen, however. One of the few things on the list just happened to be going out to find firewood, as well as filling up the bird feeders you left hanging out in the forest beyond. You could kill two birds with one stone. (Definitely not literally though. You hoped you never needed to kill two birds with one stone unless it was for pure survival purposes.)

The bird seed you'd requested to be brought back was… somewhere around here. You couldn't remember where exactly Auntie Yuna said they put the bag, but you would go hunting for it.

You meandered through the first floor of your lake cabin, gradually approaching the kitchen area where you heard voices. As far as you were aware, your parents were holed up in the kitchen with Kevin’s parents, as well as Kevin himself. Your siblings were probably either upstairs or at the Kims’ place. Probably.

“—know Judy’s daughter, right?” You recognized your mom’s voice among the fray. By this time, you stood in the middle of the living room with your hands on your hips. Where in the world was that sneaky bag of bird seed?

Kevin’s mom replied next, “Ah, she’s doing that drawing major or something, right? I forgot what it’s called—”

“Animation,” supplied her husband.

“Yes, that’s the one.” A clinking of metal on china; they were most likely digging into the trifle cake that was assembled earlier in the day.

“I hear there’s something going on and it’s getting more difficult to find work for them.”

A disgruntled sound. “Yah. That's the risk that comes with those art majors. If she had gone into bioengineering like Judy wanted her to, then she wouldn’t be worrying so much.”

You paused from your position in the living room. From your vantage point, you got a clear view into only part of the kitchen, but it was where Kevin lingered with his back to one of the cabinets. He had a bowl of dessert in one hand, the other using the tines of his fork to prod at a bite of cream and cake. His head was tilted down though, and you caught his periodic glances toward the part of the kitchen you couldn’t see where the adults probably were, prattling on and on as if he weren’t standing right there.

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach.

Why was he subjecting himself to this? Why didn’t he just pick himself up and leave—? The thought came to you that maybe he thought he deserved to hear this.

Having surveyed the living room enough to know that the bird seed wasn’t here, you did happen to note the presence of his camera sitting on the coffee table. You snatched the device up and headed for the kitchen.

“I think it’s good to cultivate creativity, but there’s a difference between a career and hobbies—”

“Psst.” You grappled onto the side of the doorway, quietly catching Kevin’s attention.

His head perked up at the sound and his eyebrows shot up in question. He offered the bowl in his hands to you. Want some? He mouthed.

You shook your head, then used your free hand to wave him over. Bird seed?

He seemed to understand. With one, massive bite, he finished the rest of his bowl, deposited it in the kitchen sink, then quietly slipped out of the room with you.

When the two of you were in the clear and you were following him over to the closet beneath the stairs (damn, had you really forgotten that this closet existed?), you handed him his camera. “I’m invoking rescue protocol,” you told him.

Kevin accepted his camera with a furrowed brow, watching as you opened up the closet door and found a canvas sack of birdseed sitting there. Huzzah! “Wait, but…” He considered you for a moment, and a slow smile slid onto his face. He ducked his head and threw his camera strap around his neck. “I appreciate you. Have I told you that?”

“And I—” You grunted as you picked the bag up into your arms and used your foot to kick the door closed. “—appreciate you. How’d you know this was where the bird seed was?”

“I just remembered what Uncle Jin said,” he told you with a shrug.

The two of you meandered out of the backdoor and onto the porch in a silent agreement to go fill some bird feeders together. The forest at this time of day was streaked in golden sunlight, emerald green leaves painted over in an amber wash of glitter. It felt warm and comfortable like autumn, but with the color palette of summer. The air was fresh, not crisp, and there was still a dollop of pollen floating around in the air from the tailend of spring.

You and Kevin entered the forest proper, and you shifted the bag into your right hand when you finally got the bag’s handles up and at ‘em. “I know the protocol wasn’t meant for those kinds of situations,” you started.

Kevin let his camera rest in his hands at midriff once he had fiddled with the settings enough to his liking. “I know.”

“They’re wrong, you know?” You turned to look at him as you stopped at the first feeder and let the sack of seed and grain fall to your feet with a thump against the earth. Before you opened up the bag, however, you peered up into the wooden house hanging from the branch, slobbered in messy paints and melting smiley faces. There wasn’t a speck of grain or seed left in this one. Satisfied, you bent down to rip the bag open and take out a scoop with your hands.

The shutter of a camera lens fired. He sighed, lowering the camera so he could inspect the test shot he took. “I’ve come to terms with that—all of their opinions, I mean.” He lifted the viewfinder back up to his eye and took another shot as you shoveled the bird seed into the hole. A small stream of it missed and tumbled to the forest floor. “Sometimes I do think like that, though. Whether or not I should have stuck with psychology and become a teacher instead of photography.”

You folded the edge of the bag over itself after dusting your hands off, and the two of you continued onward. “Are you happy with photography though? Do you like the things you’re learning, the work you’re doing?” That was one of the few metrics that kept you clinging onto your dreams—your hands were getting scraped and sweaty holding onto the side of the cliff face, but even though your shoe slipped against the ledge and threatened a long drop, you held on. Some days, you thought it was a sad, desperate effort; others, you found extra strength to dig your soles in.

He didn’t have to think much before answering. “Yeah, I do. It’s… it’s fulfilling.” He shot you a glance. “I guess it’s something I enjoy so much that most days it doesn’t even feel like work. All of the logistic, ‘real world,’ adult stuff is kind of a headache, but…” Even though his sentence trailed off, you could still follow.

You plopped the sack of seed down on the ground beneath the next bird feeder. “I know that it’s hard to think about what-ifs, and I’m kind of a hypocrite about it, too—but I think—” you scooped up a handful of bird seed and poured it into the opening. This house had a little sunshine painted on the roof. “—Kevin, I think you made the right choice. Obviously, it shouldn’t matter what I think; that’s just what I’ve observed so far.”

“It matters what you think,” he replied quietly. “To me, at least.”

The two of you shared a smile as you dusted your hands off again. The chase is hard, but the reward is sweet—those had been his words to you the other day.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?” He mused, in view of your struggle to pick the damn thing off the ground.

You suddenly gained a spurt of strength and energy. “I’m—great.”

His low chuckle followed you as you went. You could hear his shutter go off again.

“Thank you for assuring me that I took the right risk.” Kevin fell into step beside you once more with his camera cradled in his hands. There was a softness to his eyes again, a kind of tenderness you recognized only when it was just the two of you.

You went for a smile. “I feel you, you know? Maybe not on the same level, but you’re not in crisis alone, okay?”

His shoulder bumped against yours. “Get on my level,” he jested.

Your smile haplessly curled up further. “Yeah, yeah, you five year old.” You leaned over his arm to peer at his camera screen. Your heart hammered, blood spiking, when you saw what the subject of all his shots had been thus far. “Oh my god, have you been taking pictures of me?”

He giggled at your reaction. "What? What else am I supposed to be taking pictures of?"

"Uhm?" You gestured with your arm in a wide arc. "There is literally a whole world around us. Nature is much more photogenic than I am." A nervous laugh bubbled out of your chest as you adjusted a lock of hair that had gotten in your face.

"You are totally photogenic," he scoffed. "Literally look."

The two of you stopped in the middle of the path so he could show you the pictures he had taken thus far. Like most people when they saw a picture of themselves, you wanted to grimace, but you tried to search for what Kevin was seeing.

They were all incredible candid shots. The color was so vivid and bright, the edges crisp and focused. He had captured you at the moment when you were smiling, peeking into the bird feeder. It was that split second before the smile bloomed into something bigger when it only teased at the corner of your mouth.

You leaned back and coughed. "I only look good because you made me look good."

"Now that's bullshit."

You both resumed your walk to the next bird feeder. He said to you, "You can't possibly appreciate nature's beauty without appreciating your own, Yn."

You tilted your head and sent him a sidelong glance. "Why did that sound actually profound?"

"What do you mean actually profound?" His face arranged into an expression of offense. "Am I not regularly profound?"

You smiled to yourself. "I mean… if you had to ask—" Click! "Hey, now wait a minute!"

He beamed something boyish at you from over his camera lens. "Whoops?"

The bird seed bag thumped onto the forest floor again and you moved to check the inside of the next bird feeder. To your utter delight, you were greeted by the sight of sticks and mud and leaves slotted together in a messy riffraff, otherwise known as a bird's nest. You could hear the bright chirping coming out from the feeder's hole, and dark gray feathers poked out.

"We won't disturb these ones," you whispered, backing away to collect your bird seed. But before you left, you took a little of the grain to sprinkle on the outer landing ledge.

You didn't even realize you had been smiling out of pure giddiness until you reached the next feeder on the path. You had always secretly hoped that a bird would take over one of the houses as their own. Lo and behold, that hope manifested into reality.

Kevin helped you out with the next one since this tree was hung with a duplex. It was similar to a human duplex; the house was split down the middle to hold double the feed. The two of you carefully transferred seed and grain into its proper place.

"If you really are uncomfortable with me taking pictures of you," he said as the two of you picked up where you left off, "then I can totally delete them." He made a gesture with his hand. "No harm, no foul."

Heat rose to your cheeks. "It doesn't bother me that much," you admitted sheepishly. "They were good pictures."

"See!" Elated, he slung an arm around your shoulders and tugged you against his side with an affectionate shake. "You see the vision? Do you see it now?"

You couldn't possibly say no to him when his expression was brighter than the sun at high noon. At this moment—this perfect moment—when the sunlight streaming through the trees painted his face in a filter of buttery gold… you could definitely see the vision, but perhaps not the exact one he saw.

EPISODE TEN: YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES…

"OH, thank god, you guys went and got firewood!" Jin pressed his hands together in prayer as he jogged over to you and helped transfer the lumber in your arms over to his. On your way back from replenishing the bird feed, you let Kevin hold the remainder of what was left in the bag while you picked up any spare tinder for the fire. There were quite a few loose sticks around that would work nicely for the campfire tonight.

He walked off with your gatherings from the trip, and you and Kevin continued up to your lake house to drop off the bag of bird seed.

"So you were saying about the animal representation thing?" You piped up, recalling where the two of you last ended before your return to home base.

"Oh!" Kevin grinned. "It's so funny because some of my friends—you can totally see the resemblance of an animal, right? But then others don't really get an animal. Like Younghoon: he's just kind of bread."

You nearly tripped over a patch of dirt. "Bread?" You stammered incredulously. "Come again?"

"Bread," he nodded. He murmured in thanks to you when you slid open the screen door for him so he could shuck off his shoes and step inside the house. "But Changmin's a squirrel. Or a giraffe. That's what JC!Yn calls him, anyway; it's because of his long neck."

"Huh," you pondered. Interesting friend group they had going on there. You wondered what you would be…

As you passed by your bedroom on the first floor, you could hear your phone sounding off in aggressive vibrations even through the wooden walls and the closed door. You swore under your breath and pushed into your room to turn it off, then paused when you realized why it had gone off in the first place.

Fireflies.

"Everything okay?" Kevin's voice came back around the bend, his head poking into the space and the bird seed bag nowhere to be seen. He must have put it away just now.

You glanced up at him as you silenced the alarm and tucked your phone into your pocket. You hadn't needed it all that much this entire trip, but you would definitely hold onto it tight tonight. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Ready to head out?"

He didn't question your behavior and nodded. "Ready when you are."

Sometimes campfire smoke burned Kevin's eyes, but that was mostly when he was younger and didn't know any better. The embers of the fire were always so warm and inviting, always luring him toward it and inviting him to stare into its core. He could still feel the sting of the ash in his pupils as he looked at it from afar now.

The summer sun had sunken down into the horizon and gave way to a comfortable nightfall. Above your heads hung curtains of leaves from oaks, and above them was the blanket of night sky bedazzled in stars. Nature, as you had said earlier today, was quite photogenic.

He sat perched slightly away from everyone in the group, settling at the picnic table with his back to the table surface so he could still face into the fire. When everyone regrouped, Joshua had brought along an acoustic guitar and played it for everyone now.

"Sunday morning, rain is falling."

Someone lit up in a small hoot of approval. Kevin observed the group before him, the several families that had come together. He was especially pleased that the Hongs and the Xus were still hanging out with the lot of them, the latter being around a little less, but still coming out to join the fun, nonetheless.

He hadn't even realized when the last time his mom tried blatantly pushing him towards Serena. At some point, she stopped and it slipped his mind.

"Clouds are shrouding us in moments, unforgettable. You twist to fit the mold that I am in."

Kevin scratched his jaw as he turned his eyes down to the iPad settled in his lap. After he had finished up dinner, he ran inside to swap out his camera for his device to get some sketching done. There wasn't a particular project he was working on; he just wanted to practice a little.

When he lifted his gaze back up to pick a subject, he found himself looking in your direction. Your dad and Connor brought out the goodies to make s'mores. Long, slim skewers were passed around the circle, and the kids were the first to receive marshmallows to spear.

You and your sister sat beside one another and you helped her grab two of the mallows to impale. The light from the fire flickered across your face in differing levels of shadow, a play on contrast. Your expression seemed softer here—he wasn't really sure what it was. Maybe it was the tenderness at the corner of your eyes as you laughed at Connor's marshmallow falling burnt into the pit; maybe it was the triumph you shared with Alice when you helped her sandwich her marshmallows between a slab of chocolate and twin graham crackers.

He liked to believe his hand started before he consciously knew what he was doing.

"That may be all I need… In darkness, she is all I see."

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you one?" You asked your brother as he grabbed his redemption marshmallow from the bag.

Connor huffed, puffing out his chest. "I got this."

Your eyebrows flew upward. "Okay, big guy. Have at it." You chuckled and grabbed a marshmallow for yourself, sticking it onto your skewer to let it broil over the heat.

Kevin traced the lines of your face with his eyes, his hand transferring that memorization onto his screen. Sometimes human expressions were a little difficult to portray accurately, and there was a thorn pricking the back of his mind, urging him to do you justice. He didn't know if he could.

Your head slowly swayed to the sound of Joshua's pretty melody, the corners of your mouth tilting upward. Kevin shifted his position on the bench and drew the little tick mark at the edge of your mouth for that slight smile.

He always knew you were beautiful—for fuck's sake, he'd practically said it today in the forest. It had been among the crush of other important conversations, but he meant it. He still had the image of you engraved in his brain, the moment when you discovered the family of birds in the feeder house. You'd lit up like a goddamn star.

You stood up from your spot once your marshmallow became the perfect golden tone over the edges. You stepped over to the chair that held all the ingredients and smooshed the marshmallow between chocolate and cracker. Then, you turned and marched over to him.

Surprise alerted in his features, and he subtly tilted the screen of his iPad up against his chest. "Hey," he greeted softly while you approached.

You returned the expression and held out the s'more to him. "Here. It's for you."

The organ in his chest did a somersault. "What?" He laughed, "For me?"

"Yeah, silly. I don't know why you're so far away, but I know you like 'em." You settled on the bench next to him with one arm braced behind you on the table and your legs crossed, one over the other.

"Thank you," he said, using one of his hands to bite into it with childlike giddiness. The mixture of flavors exploded in his mouth—the crunch of the graham cracker, the soft, gooeyness of the chocolate and marshmallow. A perfect, sweet treat, and done exactly right. "Mmmh, this is so good," he mumbled behind his hand to catch any crumbs on his lips.

You chuckled. "Nice, glad it has your stamp of approval." Your eyes wandered down to his iPad, and you could see the white screen lit up against his shirt. "What have you been up to?"

His eyes widened a smidge, and there came a bashfulness to his face. (Cute.) "Oh, uhm," he swallowed down the remainder of the s'more and tilted the screen away from you. Huh, strange. "It's nothing really. Just sketching."

You hummed in understanding, though it was a little out of character for him to hide it from you. "Ah, I see."

The two of you descended into silence, and you leaned your back against the table to get comfortable. Kevin passed you sidelong glances from the corner of his eye, unsure of how you knew he wanted you to stay. (Because he definitely did want you to stay.)

Perhaps this was a sign. Thoughts had been brewing in his head as of late, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. They all just… sort of piled up in his hands and he didn't know how to free them up to reach out to you.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—maybe even about the pact—to retract the pact?—it didn't matter.

But when he turned to look at you this time, your gaze was elsewhere. That soft, tenderness remained, but you had turned your attention to Joshua.

Ah. He shouldn't have jumped so soon. A hopeless kind of ache twisted in his stomach that made him uncomfortable. He briefly glanced down at his screen of what he'd sketched of you so far and decided it might be better to finish it later.

Fireflies. You nearly forgot that you planned to sneak out and see fireflies tonight.

By the time the campfire was cleaned up and everyone was tucked away into their beds, it was probably nearing midnight. You quietly rustled around your room in the dark and used only your phone's flashlight to gather things into a little knapsack—just the essentials, of course. There was no need to get fancy with it.

You wished you had signal so you could text Kevin and warn him ahead of time that you were about to go appear at his window, but you figured it would be fine anyhow. Even if he wasn't awake, the excitement buzzing inside of you could hardly wait.

Shouldering your bag, you headed out the door and crossed the divide between your house and the Moons'.

You located Kevin's window on the second floor, quietly rejoining when you realized it was cracked open. This had to be fate; what other reason would his window be open? (Clearly not for the cool, evening breeze or anything…)

You cupped your hands around your mouth. "Kevin!" You stage-whispered. "Kevin!"

A moment later, a head popped out the open frame. His hair stuck up a little bit and his eyes squinted down into the darkness at you. "Yn?"

"Yes," you said with a grin that he probably thought was idiotically too large. You waved him down. "I'm gonna go see fireflies!"

It took him a second to compute. "What time is it?"

"Like, midnight."

"Okay."

Seven minutes later, Kevin emerged from the back door with a T-shirt and sweatpants on, a yawn splitting his face. He shook his head out as if he was shaking out the remaining remnants of sleep from his system. You met him on the back stairs.

"So what's this about fireflies?" He asked you as the two of you ventured off into the wilderness.

Last year when you were up here at the lake, there was one night when sleep refused to take you. Your solution had been to go on a walk, and as completely dangerous as that sounded (because it was), you'd stumbled upon the meadow you now took Kevin toward. You hadn't the faintest why you never knew about this place after years of coming up to the lake town, but it was where the fireflies took flight.

The meadow was not too long a walk from where you both lived, and by the time you arrived, Kevin was wide awake.

"It's just over this crest," you told him, the jubilation in your voice nearly spilling over.

Kevin smiled at the sound of your excitement and eagerly followed you up the hill.

As soon as you made it over, you lost all your breath in awe. The meadow sprawled at your feet for miles was completely a-glow. Little beads of yellow-green light dotted the field in every corner like light bulbs strung together by invisible string. You had only ever seen this once in person, the rest via the internet and popular culture (movies, TV shows, and the like), and yet, it never compared to the real life experience.

You and Kevin stood there for a moment to soak in the sight. What a wonder of nature this was.

When you finally gained the sense to, you dug around in your bag for wherever you'd stashed your phone. Your tongue stuck out of the corner of your mouth as you fidgeted with the settings on your phone camera. You just wanted one little picture to show one of your professors at school, but it seemed your camera-working skills left much to be desired.

"Here, let me," Kevin murmured and gently took the phone from you. He showed you the screen as he fixed the settings—et voilà! Like magic, the field before you became visible on your camera screen in the crispiest, sexiest quality you had ever seen. "And… there you go."

He clicked the photo for you and handed you back your phone.

Mouth agape, you zoomed in on your completed photo. "Thanks, Kevin!" You gushed as you admired his handiwork.

He clasped a hand against the back of his neck. "No worries. Just a few tricks I learned."

You still warmed at the gesture. With your phone now tucked away, the two of you could sink back into the glory of the field of fireflies.

You heard Kevin's voice, soft, "How do they light up like that?"

"Bioluminescence," you replied in a whisper back. "It's a biochemical reaction that basically lets them convert energy into that light you see." There were plenty of other examples of bioluminescence in nature, as well. One particular instance you'd read about once, was a wave of bioluminescent algae appearing on the shores of a Southern Californian beach during the summer. It was neat stuff.

"Wild," he marveled.

A wave of calm fell over your form. You'd never felt so at peace in your life—just you, the outdoors, and one of the few people who made you actually feel this comfortable. You swallowed at the thought.

You were suddenly hyperaware of how close you were standing to him, the backs of your hands grazing against each other. You could feel his skin, his knuckles against yours—and maybe your brain was making it up, but the touch felt intentional.

For a second, you indulged yourself in what it might be like to close the distance and take his hand into yours. Of course, it wouldn't have to be in the romantic way; friends could hold hands… right? They could hold hands and your heart could skip several beats and he could look at your lips, and you would still be friends. Right?

You cleared your throat, and the sound seemed to thunder in the silence. "We should—we should probably head back," you said, sparing a glance at him.

He caught your eyes and held them. His lips turned upward, and the shine in his eyes was fond. "Okay."

With renewed energy, you made the trek back into the neighborhood. Your bucket list items for the summer had nearly all been checked off—not like you had a physical list written out. These were simply traditions you hoped to fulfill every summer while you were here in your happy place.

The crickets chirped a lovely serenade as you and Kevin strolled back onto the street where your houses stood. At the point where you both needed to split off, you nudged him with your elbow. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight."

"Thank you for inviting me," he countered with an amused hum.

"Good night, Kev."

You both lingered for a second. "Good night, Yn," he said back, pausing for a moment. Then he leaned over toward you and pressed his lips to the crown of your head. Your eyes fluttered shut. "Hope the lovebugs bite."

EPISODE ELEVEN: ROCKING THE BOAT

IF there was one thing that Kevin Moon was good at (besides the myriad of things he was actually good at), it was waking up his cousin to exercise with him in the morning.

"I think I deserve a nice, fat stack of pancakes after this," Yuna grumbled after nearly tripping over a raised tree root and kissing the forest floor. She grappled onto her cousin's shoulder to steady herself, the cousin in question giving a light chuckle at her antics. "When your mom said we should exercise together, I thought she meant the next time I was in Vancouver, not right now."

"Well, it's only because Yn's mom planned to go out with my mom this morning," Kevin mused. "Usually I have a designated walking partner."

"Woe is me. Alas, I have become your Plan B," Yuna sighed melodramatically with a hand draped over her forehead.

This morning, at a lovely 9:46am, the lake and its surrounding forest was just as alive and awake as Kevin was. The sun had taken up its perch in the clear, blue sky and the birds had long since begun their morning songs. They were awfully loud at this part of the lake, the exact three-quarter mark around the perimeter. Kevin thanked his parents for choosing houses away from this area—he would have never slept ever if they bunkered up here. (Not that he slept anyway, but that was beside the point.)

The walk began a little later than he usually did with your mom, but he granted Yuna a bit of leeway since she hadn't exactly been given a head's up. (He argued the opposite, but he let this once slide.)

"You're so dramatic," he chided playfully. "Watch out for that rock."

Yuna's mouth morphed into a deep frown, eyes wide open, as she narrowly missed being nature's fool another time. "Oh, speaking of Yn… Yn's mom? Whatever, I just mean Yn."

Kevin perked up at the topic change. His brain was fresh from last night's midnight endeavor with you and the fireflies. His lips still tingled from when he ventured to kiss you on the head… he wasn't sure where that courage had come from, but the memory of it kick-started his heart into a gallop. "What about Yn?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. You tell me." A smile crawled onto her face, and Kevin could smell her slyness a mile away. "The two of you have been hanging out a ton recently."

"We usually stick together," he sniffed, fidgeting absentmindedly with the beads on the bracelet you'd made him.

"Aish," she pressed her features into an unimpressed look that reminded Kevin of a typical Chanhee deadpan. "You're so unhelpful. You know what I'm talking about!" She smacked the side of his arm, and Kevin erupted into a fit of laughter.

His smile grew shy. "I don't really know what to say! I'm sorry—that's the truth." Because how could he even begin when it came to you? Where did it end, where did it begin?

"I see the way you look at her, Kev."

Kevin shoved his hands into his shorts. Suddenly the bird nest he spotted in a nearby tree became all too interesting. The bird nest reminded him of the birds who had made a home out of one of your feeders, and that reminded him of the adorable elation on your face when you discovered it and that reminded him of—he came to a stop. Oh, god, he was so far gone. "How do I look at her?"

Yuna peered at him curiously, then stopped to face him. "You look at her like I look at Jin. At least, that's how I think I look at him." She offered him a supportive smile. "But right now, you look like you're going through your midlife crisis."

"I might as well be."

She barked out a laugh. "Save that for when you buy a house, my friend."

He rubbed his temples with a wince. "Houses, domesticity, money, partners. Why is adulting so hard?"

"Hey, you'll get through it," she told him and nudged his shoulder. "What's going on, dude? What's on your mind?"

Kevin swallowed. He still hadn't the faintest idea where to begin, but everything had to start somewhere. Yuna had always been kind to him (a menace at times, but that feeling was mutual), and he trusted her with his vulnerabilities. He toed the ground. "Okay, last night, I kissed her—"

"YOU WHAT?"

He sputtered, red rushing to his face, as he grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes were practically falling out of her head. "Nonononono! Let me finish, you—I kissed her on the forehead, okay?"

Her gaping mouth closed only slightly. "Oh…" She thought about it some more. "Oh."

Kevin nodded gravely. "Yup."

Yuna straightened with a furrowed brow. "Well, that's not that big of a deal, is it?"

"What do you mean that's not a big deal?" His hands shot to the top of his baseball cap. "How is that not a big deal!"

"That's because the two of you refuse to acknowledge or entertain the obvious!"

Kevin hissed when she reached over to give his forehead a very hard flick. He rubbed the spot that began to smart; getting flicked in the forehead twice in one lake trip was twice too many. "The obvious?"

"That you guys can have the mushy gushy feelies without it being a product of the placebo effect from your moms' collective matchmaking efforts."

He made a face. "That was a lot of words…"

She deadpanned. "Kevin, listen to me: just because the two of you made a stupid pact when you were ten—"

"Eleven."

"Whatever. Eleven—doesn't mean that you can't leave room to, you know, amend that. You have to give yourself the opportunity to explore it, especially when I can clearly see that your feelings are changing about this girl." Yuna grasped her cousin by his shoulders this time in an attempt to telepathically insert these words into his brain. Or at least, just make him listen.

The words seeped into his head. The two of you had already made amendments earlier this trip, but you had never commented on the "only friends part." He even entertained the idea of bringing it up to you last night at the bonfire.

He didn't realize Yuna already began tugging him along the path to circle around the remainder of the lake to get back to the house. Everything was so muddled… but a part of him recognized that Yuna was right. He just wished he could get an idea of where your thoughts laid.

There were moments when you thought life could be like a movie, but then why was doing this pedal boat thing so much less glamorous than it seemed? Then again, maybe you shouldn't have thought doing this at high noon was the greatest idea.

You should have been like your Uncle Seokjin, who sat to your left, swallowed up in a blue lifejacket, a pair of big sunglasses, and a crocheted bonnet with a duck face to keep his face out of the sun. Yeah, maybe glasses would have been a good idea.

Sweat dribbled down the side of your face and down the slope of your nose, and you wiped it off with the back of your hand. "It's so hot, Uncle. We couldn't have waited until later today when it cooled down?"

He leaned back, his cheeks and skin reddened and damp from the heat and the fire in his calves from pedaling. "Okay, okay. Let's stop here."

"Right in the middle of the lake?" You asked incredulously, but immediately brought your feet off the pedals to give your legs a deserved break.

"What better place to do so?"

The two of you lounged in your seat beneath the molten afternoon sun, limbs screaming, water draining from your bodies through your pores. This would have been nice if you brought a sun umbrella… or maybe some water… man, did you make so many poor choices today.

"So what's going on with you and Kevin?"

The question snapped you out of your heat-fazed daze. You nearly thought you hallucinated him saying that. You stammered, "What about me and Kevin?"

You could see his overexaggerated facial expression even from behind his sunglasses. "Yah, don't give me that. You know what I'm talking about—I saw you two last night."

You lurched out of your seat and caused the violent rocking of the boat. You and your copilot let out twin swears as the boat evened out on the waves, and luckily, did not capsize. "Sorry—the fuck? You did?"

"Actually, I didn't," he snickered. "But now I know something did happen. So what's the tea, girl? Hit me with it. It's hot outside but I always take my beverages scorching." He shifted in his seat, carefully, in order to give you his full attention.

You couldn't believe he dragged you out to the middle of the lake just for this conversation. Total Uncle Seokjin move. You walked (or pedaled) right into his checkmate.

Moments of last night flooded into your brain—the campfire, the fireflies, the kiss, the… the him. Kevin. You gulped. Where did you even think to begin? "I took him to see fireflies last night."

Jin scrunched his eyebrows together. "Fireflies? Since when did we have fireflies? You didn't take me to see the fir—oh, you know, what? It was your little romantic moment; I got it."

"It wasn't a romantic moment!" You sputtered helplessly, uselessly. "It was—it was a moment of serenity and scientific marvel."

"You are such a nerd. What did he do, huh? Did you guys hold hands or something?"

Almost. "No," you said. "He… he did kiss my forehead once we got back though."

"Aha!" You both careened as the boat trembled violently from Seokjin's sudden Einstein epiphany. "I knew that something happened," he said once the boat slowed to a stop again. "I just had a feeling in my gut."

"Are you sure it wasn't the yogurt you had this morning?"

"How dare you," he huffed. "I brought my lactose pills. And hey! Stop changing the subject."

You laughed aloud, but inwardly, your gut was churning. Maybe you could blame the heat, but you knew the real reason why you were suddenly feeling as unstable as the pedal boat you sat upon. The idea that the entirety of your friendship could be so easily uprooted… well, perhaps not easily. Picking apart your friendship would be like flushing weeds out of a garden—you would have to get at the roots, and right now, the roots were so deep that you would fall into the ground before finding the bottom.

Not that you wanted to uproot your friendship, or relationship, with Kevin. Of course not.

What did that forehead kiss even mean? What did all of the moments you shared between him this summer, as a whole, even mean? Why, all of a sudden, did you want the way he looked at you to mean something different besides platonic affection? Why did you want more when you had never really thought about more before?

You voiced all of this aloud to your uncle, who sat staring out onto the calm surface of the lake. When you were finished with your ramble, he said, "You need to get your shit together, girl."

You coughed. "Thanks, that was so helpful."

"I'm told that a lot," he beamed. "But really, those are all very good questions, Yn. And they're super important, too."

You frowned, lifting the rim of your baseball cap to wipe away the perspiration collecting at your hairline like a cult. "Do you think that these mixed feelings are a result of all the matchmaking going on? Like, somehow, we've let it affect how we view each other?"

"Honestly?" He sighed, his shoulders lifting and dropping in a half-hearted shrug. "Could be. But, Yn honey, is it really such a bad thing? And let's think about it this way—how do you feel about Joshua?"

You didn't need to think too hard about it. "He's a catch, but not my type of butterfly."

"Exactly, and oh my go—"

"Don't," you chuckled menacingly, "call me a nerd."

He gestured vaguely with his hand. "I wasn't; I was gonna call you a dork."

You snorted. With another swipe at your dripping neck, you said, "But Kevin and Serena—"

"'Kevin and Serena' don't exist," he told you with a smack of his lips. Jin peered at you from over the rim of his glasses, which in kind, made the duck's beady eyes stare straight into your soul, too. "That girl bats for the other team, and Kevin has shown zero interest in her other than helping her not fall off a jet ski."

Huh. You leaned your elbow onto the knee of one leg, propped up to your chest. "Well when you put it that way…"

"When I put it that way," he finished for you, "it makes it a little clearer, hm?" You were quiet for a moment, and Jin gave your shoulder a pat. "Some things are just meant to be."

The words, so familiar to you, rang true as a bell. Some things are just meant to be. You couldn't help the smile that started to work its way onto your face, and it was all thanks to Seokjin helping you sweep away some of the webs confusing your brain. You weren't completely confident, but you could feel yourself being nudged in a certain direction, and this time, you weren't pushing back.

The tide could take you where it may.

Your uncle by association added quietly, "Haven't you thought just once that, after all this sneaking around, there's been another reason for it other than a pact?"

EPISODE TWELVE: FISH IN THE SEA, ANTS IN THE GROUND

BY the time you and Jin returned to solid ground, you discovered that Kevin was away with his dad helping the Xus pack and clean up. Today they would be departing the small lake town, as they hadn't planned on spending as much time up here as the rest of you did. You and most of the others already said your goodbyes at the campfire, so you had little else to do but twiddle your thumbs until you could confront Kevin with your thoughts.

A shower always produced productive results, especially after melting Wicked Witch of the West style in the middle of the lake.

There was time, you realized, to bring things together. Of course, there was a part of you that shied away from wanting to even address this epiphany. What if bringing this up opened up a whole new can of worms? In other words, what if talking about the elephant in the room only led to regret? You didn't want to lose Kevin, and because your families were always so close, you didn't want to lose this. This connection, this tradition, this place.

Too many memories made their home here at the lake. It was your happy place… his happy place. It was everything.

Everything could change, and wasn't that terrifying? But it could also be great, and who best to share the scariest, greatest moments of life with other than your Kevin Moon?

As rubber tire wheels ate gravel, Kevin nodded to his dad and set off back across the lawn toward your cabin. The afternoon had him busy with helping the Xus head home, which he didn't mind doing, of course; the lot of them had fun with his party, and his party with the lot of them. He and Serena left on friendly terms, undeterred by his mother's half-hearted attempt to get them sort of talking. Serena said she understood.

Kevin needed to talk to you though. After the morning was spent with Yuna getting him to see the big ass elephant in the room—trunk in his face and trumpet in his ear—there was no other course of action left but to tell you the truth.

The truth. God, the truth. The truth was that he didn't want the old pact in place anymore. That was it, plain and simple. It was crazy to think about how long the two of you had let it restrain your relationship—wait, did you want it to though?

"Hey Kevin!"

Kevin slowed to a stop, attention perking up at his name when he saw Joshua making his way over to him. He worried his bottom lip. You didn't… like Josh, did you? He just had to be sure because, well, that would throw a rock into things. "Oh, hey, man."

Joshua offered him a bright smile. "Hey. Did Serena and her parents just take off?"

Kevin cupped the back of his head. "Uh, yeah! Just now, actually."

"Cool, cool." Joshua nodded his head. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

His heart threw itself over the side of a cliff. Oh no. He let out a laugh, hoping to push the nerves out of his voice, but he was sure it wasn't too convincing anyhow. "Really? What—what about?"

"It's about Yn—" Oh, double no. "—I kind of," he winced, "noticed that her mom was trying to… nudge us together?"

"Oh god, let me be the first to apologize—"

Joshua broke the tension with a chuckle. "Hey, it's no worries! I just didn't know if you were aware or not because you and she kind of seemed like a couple to me, but I didn't know if her mom knew."

Kevin blinked, heart quickening for a different reason. "What?" He stammered. "Sorry, can we rewind?"

"Hm? That you and Yn are a thing? Are—are you not?" He gasped, eyes going wide. "Shit, that was stupid of me to just assume. Sorry if that was totally awkward!"

Oh, but quite the opposite. Kevin could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, clear as day. There was a warm feeling in his chest knowing that more people thought that you and him looked like a couple. It was ridiculous how the thought got him giddy now. Kevin shook his head though. "No, no, you're good, dude. But we aren't a couple." Yet. Hopefully.

Joshua cocked his head to the side curiously. "Oh? I guess… it's still a little strange of me to assume, so I apologize. You're…?"

"Interested?" A nod. "Yeah." (Wow, that was a verbal admittance. One step closer to the real thing.)

Kevin cleared his throat and grabbed his shoulder with his opposite hand. "You're not—you're not interested in her, are you? I mean," he rushed to add, "it's totally fine. I understand—"

Joshua shook his head. "Oh shit, no, I'm not interested. Not that Yn's a bad person or anything, but I'm taken."

Pause.

…that made sense.

Joshua laughed, ducking his head to hide the smile that blossomed on his face. "Yeah, I'm already spoken for. My parents don't really know yet, but… yeah. I didn't wanna get in the way of whatever you and Yn have, and hopefully I'm not saying this too late."

On the contrary, a weight lifted from Kevin's chest and he sucked in a lungful of summer breeze. "Nah, man. Thanks for saying it in the first place; I appreciate it."

"Yeah," Joshua said pleasantly. He nodded at him, lips pursed with one eye squinted. "She digs you, too, you know? I've seen it all throughout this trip."

Hope filled his heart like the air ballooning his lungs. He didn't know what to do with all of these. They just kept coming up onto the stack of things in his hands that he wanted to take into consideration and tell you to your face, once and for all. Your face just kept flickering in his mind's eye, and the nerves were slowly melting into excitement. He wanted to share this with you, as the two of you had done for years.

"I hope so."

Joshua clasped a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "I would say 'go get 'em, tiger,' but I have a friend at school who is scarily obsessed with tigers, so I'll just say—" A squeeze of his shoulder, "you got this."

Kevin didn't know what to do with that extra factoid, but he gave Joshua a grateful grin. "Thanks, man."

The pair split off from there, one heading back toward his own cabin, and the other, marching toward the future. Whatever laid ahead, he could take on.

His step gained a skip, and soon, he was jogging across the green until he appeared at your back porch. He hadn't really prepared anything—no romantic gestures, no flowers or candles, no chocolates. All he had were the words on his tongue and his newly realized love for you. Love, a strange phenomenon. He had his love for you stashed away in his breast pocket and it blossomed every summertime.

He let himself into the house and went poking around for you. "Yn? Yn, you back yet?"

No answer.

He ducked his head into the kitchen, the living room, before he came upon your bedroom door left slightly ajar. Through the sliver, he saw the bottoms of your feet on the bed, and he gently knocked on the door before pushing through.

"Yn…? Ah," His voice quieted to a whisper.

You were curled up over the bedsheets, asleep. Kevin slowly tiptoed his way over to you where your body was angled toward your phone screen, lying discarded on the pillow and actively running an episode of Our Planet.

A smile, fond and tender, pressed itself into his mouth. He reached over to carefully turn the downloaded episode off to descend the room in complete silence.

His head swiveled toward the foot of the bed where your patchwork quilt hung off the railing. He carefully draped it over your sleeping form, then made his exit.

You deserved the rest. And though he couldn't confess to you now, this gave him the time to ensure he got this exactly right.

EPISODE THIRTEEN: THE DAMSELS IN DEVOTION DEAL™

TIME passed by differently here.

One moment, you were biding your time and indulging in an episode of Our Planet; the next, the bedroom was dark and the house was quiet. You roused from sleep confused and delirious. You stretched your limbs up over your head, taking note of the quilt draped over your body.

Huh, you wondered how that got there.

Your eyes fluttered and squinted when you stood up and saw a flicker of amber light from outside your window. The view looked over only part of the backside to the house, so all you could see were the shadows that the campfire created. They danced by way of the breeze, their puppetmaster.

The time on your phone read a (slightly alarming) ten o'clock. You hadn't realized you slept that long. Maybe you were more tired than you originally thought.

Wait, then why was the campfire still blazing?—

"Yn! Psst!"

You pressed your face against the open slit in the window to track the sound of your name. Déjà vu swept over you as you discovered Kevin making his way over toward you from the outside. "Kevin? Is everyone still up?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I've just been waiting," he admitted sheepishly. "Come on out. Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, no. I just woke up."

"Ah… right." He clasped the back of his neck. "Well, come out anyway. We can sit together."

Together. You liked the sound of that.

Without wasting more time, you promised him two minutes and scurried out of your room to round to the back door. The campfire crackled on your side of the lawn, rather than the middle of the properties this time, and Kevin tended to it on one of the two foldable chairs present.

You took a seat in the open seat. "S'mores?" You chuckled, noting the basket of ingredients at his feet.

He ducked his head. "Yeah," he loosened a laugh, "I thought I'd make you a s'more this time."

It was just a s'more, and yet, here was the organ in your chest palpitating in your chest. You didn't reject the s'more, of course, and watched him skewer a marshmallow and hold it over the blazing embers. As he did so, you caught the way his other hand fidgeted with your bracelet on his wrist, how his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. Was he as nervous as you were?

The thing, Yn.

"There's something I—" You both stopped short at your simultaneous words. They were the same, too, and had the pair of you fumbling.

"You first," you said, gesturing to him.

He hummed and tried for a smile. "Do you remember that night in sixth grade when we made the pact?"

You nodded.

"It was kind of like this actually," he mused. The marshmallow had browned into a beautiful gold, and you reached into the basket to help him assemble the chocolate and graham cracker pieces. Your fingers grazed his as he squished the outer crackers together to hand it to you. "A late night, s'mores, the campfire."

You took a chunk out of the s'more and swallowed before adding, "Seems like so long ago."

"Right?" He slipped the metal skewers back into the basket and leaned his arms onto his knees, body angled toward you. "The pact, I…" He considered his words as they melted on his tongue like the chocolate and marshmallow on yours. "I wanted to ask if you would think about another amendment."

You met his eyes now. The burning fire reflected in his dark irises, warm and bright. "An—an amendment," you parroted. Was this what you thought it was? You finished off your s'more, hoping not to choke when he told you whatever he wanted to tell you. You suddenly wondered if the s'more was just to soften the blow.

Kevin nodded. "Yeah, another amendment. We didn't really discuss the biggest part of the original pact when we made the rescue protocol."

"The 'just friends' clause," you finished, breathlessly.

"Yn, I don't wanna be just friends anymore."

It didn't hit you at first. You swore the ash from the fire was making you hear things, but it hit you, milliseconds later. "Oh."

He pursed his lips for a moment. "It's taken me a stupidly long time to come to this conclusion, and I was thinking about what we were talking about the other night—about if we were ready for relationships. And I said that maybe the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with was someone I already met.

"Yn, I think I'm in love with you," he said. "Not just in a way that friends love each other, but something… something more. And I wanted to let you know because—if I'm being completely honest—I want to share everything with you."

You could feel the way your lips curled upward and your heart soared. "I wanna share everything with you, too. And I don't know how long I've sat on this, but what I do know is that I feel so much for you." Every admittance that was released into the night air like sparks flying was another card laid out between you two, face up. "This place, the lake, has been my place, Kevin. But I want you to be my person."

He smiled at you, sweet and boyish, the type of smile that made you feel on the edge of seventeen. He helped you out of dark places with that smile; he was always showing you the light. "Your person," he murmured, letting that sink into his tongue and be familiarized with it. "I would love to be your person, Yn."

Your hand found his across the gap between your chairs. His thumb caressed over the side of yours, and he tucked his other hand over top until you were enveloped in his clasp—safe and sound.

When the fire was reduced to nothing more than ash and memory, you and Kevin raced each other down to the water's edge. The lake was stilled beneath the moonlight, a pool of silvery mercury. You reached for his hand again and intertwined your fingers firmly, a comforting weight and hold.

It felt right.

"So since we made an amendment to the protocol again," you started as he swung your laced hands between your bodies, "we need to seal the deal."

A grin bloomed on his face, and he bit his lip. "Hear me out," he drawled. "Maybe we should update the seal, too."

You narrowed your eyes in jest. "You just don't want me to flick your forehead."

"Sue me, you flick hard," he laughed.

"But shoot."

He licked his lips and turned to face you. "Can I show you?"

Your heart gave one big lurch as he leaned over to you. You closed the rest of the distance and sighed something happy at the feel of his lips against yours. It was gentle and brief, his mouth parting from yours to give you enough room to back away.

You could feel your twin smiles. "I kind of like it."

"Yeah?" He hummed. "Well, that can be our practice round."

You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck to pull him back over to you. His arms curled around your middle, hands pressed to your sides and holding you close.

When you broke apart this time, his warm chuckle ran a delicious bolt of electricity down your spine. "I know things are gonna be different now… But we got this."

It was the way he looked at you—the one that assured you he was the same Kevin he was three years ago and beyond; the kid who broke the swing set when you challenged him to a bet; the kid who sketched butterflies in meadows, and now sketched you in the firelight; the kid who would never judge you or ridicule you for your feelings, but validate them, always. You didn't know how you were so blind to it before.

It wasn't so scary anymore, not when you knew he would be there with you.

"Yeah," you said softly, running your thumb down the back of his neck, "I'm not really worried."

He let out a breathy laugh, and it coaxed one out of you, too. Kevin pressed his forehead to yours, pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, pressed his heart to yours.

Some things really were just meant to be.

a/n: now the question is how are they gonna tell their moms... 🤡 if you enjoyed, pls remember to reblog, or comment, or send in an ask!! thanks for reading :] see you in at your convenience!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @kflixnet

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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the coolest kids on the block

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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I love house md. it’s gay, its homophobic. it’s ableist, it has some of the best disability representation I’ve seen. medical malpractice and felonies are committed pretty much every episode, some of these aren’t even related to the case. for as bonkers as everything gets it never stops being a medical drama. it a fucking sherlock adaptation

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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had to draw him

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moonyswolf · 2 years ago

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Missing Person

synopsis: you’ve been happily dating your boyfriend, mark lee, for the past two years. but what happens when all of a sudden your best friend sends you a missing persons article and your boyfriend is listed as missing for the past three years?

pairings: boyfriend! mark lee x g.n. reader

genre: thriller/horror

warnings: blood, knives, killing, physical fighting

word count: 7.1k

a/n: in no way do i depict any member of nct like this, especially mark lee. i just wanted to write something dark for halloween so here we are. i had many ideas for this one but decided to make it shorter lmao. hope you enjoy ~

taglist: @joyumo @lovingvoidgoatee

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana

rain drops pelted the train window as you stared out into the setting sun, creamsicle skies mixing with a vital red that brought your nerves to a halt at the scenery behind the glass. normally you’d hate the summer rain, since it always seemed to ruin any plans you had, but being stuck inside this moving train with thirteen hours left with nothing to do but binge watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine reruns on Hulu and take occasional naps made you realize that maybe it wasn’t all too bad- maybe there was some beauty in things that you hated. with pink sweat$’s 17 playing at full volume in your airpods and a mug full of hot cocoa in both of your hands, you felt like you were in some romantic film. you know, the pretty individual staring out into the trees as they admire the fast-moving world outside all while the handsome stranger across the way from them is admiring their effortless beauty. and, truth be told, that’s what was happening. you just didn’t know until you saw someone sit across from you at the corner of your eye, making you turn your head to greet them and ask if you had bothered them in any way.

the handsome stranger smiled at you, making you smile back as you removed one of your earbuds from your ear to give him some of your attention. his blonde hair swooped over just above his eyebrows underneath his navy blue beanie that complimented his blue and white striped button-up, a white tank top underneath it. the way his smile brightened up his face made you feel comforted, almost like a warm hug. you watched as his frames fell down to the tip of his nose, making him scrunch up his nose in an attempt to bring them back up to their previous position.

a giggle escaped your lips as you watched him before speaking up. “hello, may i help you? did i bother you at all? i’m sorry if-“

he shook his head in disagreement, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “no no, you didn’t. you just seem pretty chill and i wanted to say hi, if that’s alright.”

for the rest of the ride, you both sat in those spots talking about everything yet nothing all at the same time. he told you all about how he was moving across the country due to getting an amazing job offer fresh out of college, and you exchanged your story as well with him as if you had known him for all your life. you told him about your family, your pets, and the reason for you moving across the country as well: transferring from a two year college to finish off your degree in psychology in a four year university. with each word that left your mouth, he listened with great intent.

and that’s what he did for your entire relationship. he always listened, always showed how much he cared, and never made you feel less than. even during his busiest days in the music studio where he co-wrote songs and even produced some days, he always found the time for you regardless of his schedule. and vice versa; with your busy college schedule and part time job you always made sure to make time for him as well. whether it be study dates where he helped you study for upcoming exams or texting him during work when you were able to sneak onto your phone for five seconds. your dorm mate even got so used to mark staying over that he ended up having designated days where he would spend some nights. but they never minded since he always brought over snacks and dinner for you all.

Mark Lee was a dream come true, a prince charming if you will. Everyone seemed to love being around him and having him in their life, whether it was the occasional meeting of a stranger in line to get coffee and he pays for your drink during the early morning rush or a friend that you kept close to you because he changed your life for the better. Everyday you were reminded of just how lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, even before you both made it official and made your switch from strangers, to friends, to partners. Mark as a partner was even better than you could’ve imagined: flowers and chocolates after a long hard day of exams or work, movie nights where he feeds you pepperoni pizza when you’re half asleep and halfway done with the movie you picked out for you both, little encouraging notes in your lunch bags, even offers you massages when you’re feeling stressed out from everyday life. He was the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend; you couldn’t ask for more or less from him.

On your one year anniversary, he even wrote you an entire song dedicated the past year and a half together, from when you first met on the train to your last special occasion spent together. He even made a small picnic for you both in his personal office space where he produced and wrote his music, accompanied with a woven wicker full of watermelon, two mini cakes baked from a local bakery you both frequented, along with champagne with tall glasses and other of your favorite foods. Alcohol entered your body as you listened to mark sing to you his song, a slow beat playing through the speakers and his fingers strumming on his acoustic guitar. his small raps cut you off guard but in the best way possible; you loved everything about his sweet gesture and felt yourself falling more deeply in love with him.

on your second year anniversary, he made you another song. but not only did he sing it to you, he sang it to you in front of others on the piano. he had rented out a restaurant for you both to enjoy endless meals for the night, dressed up in very fancy attire that you knew you’d only be able to wear a handful of times before growing out of it. an hour down and reminiscent memories being shared between you two, he randomly got up from his seat and walked down to the grand piano in the middle of the room. you watched him in confusion, your head cocked to the side as you asked him what he was doing. he just smiled at you lovingly as per usual, sitting down on the bench and cracking his knuckles quickly before he started singing along to the melody his fingers played. tears welled up in your eyes at the gesture, his words stinging beautifully as you listened to every confession. falling in love with mark was the easiest thing you had ever done.

two and a half years later here you both were, sharing an expensive loft in the city while working your dream jobs. all the while happily together without any pressure of future marriage or kids from family and friends. your life was perfect, utterly perfect. if anything it was more storybook, something only young kids dreamt of. a happy couple with well paying jobs living in a big city, accompanied with the presence of a five month old ragdoll kitten. everything seemed perfect.

today was just another morning, or so it seemed. only difference was you both were working from home today. mark had his own room to work in when he had to focus on his work while you worked in the bedroom or kitchen; you didn’t mind not having your own space since mark kept his distance when you were busy at work. on days when he worked as well, you both forgot about the existence of one another while you worked for a bit. but with being so secure in your relationship neither of you minded at all.

kissing his puffy morning cheeks, you rubbed your thumb along the stubble on his chin as the rising sun illuminated his soft facial features you never got tired of waking up next to. you watched as he scrunched up his nose lazily, fluttering his eyes open slowly to allow his eyes to gradually adjust to the bright rays. the chirping of birds were mere background noise to the tired chuckles your boyfriend let out as you attacked his face with wet kisses, causing a gleaming smile to spread across your lips.

his arms laid around your waist securely, bringing you closer into his bare chest. “good morning to you too.” he mumbled, his morning voice deep and somewhat raspy.

you pulled your lips from his cheek and down to his lips, pecking it a few times before pulling away and allowing your head to hit the pillow once again. “morning, handsome.”

he shuffled under the sheets, throwing his legs over the end of the bed and rising to his feet. you watched as he slipped on his glasses, adjusting them on his nose as he turned to look down at his partner. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight below him on the bed: you with your head in your hands, staring up at him admirably with a cheeky grin and your morning bed head sticking up in different directions. “pancakes for breakfast, my love?” he questioned as he leaned down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

the small gesture made your heart flutter immediately, causing your smile to grow wider. “yes please.” you responded, swinging your feet in the air dramatically.

he just ruffled your hair playfully before turning on his heels and leaving the room to start on the pancakes he just promised you. standing to your feet, you grabbed some fresh underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt of mark’s before walking down the hall to the bathroom. as you turn on the hot water, you hear the rustling of the pans in the kitchen on the first floor. you undress out of your clothing, tossing them into the dirty hamper and stepping into the steaming hot shower. with the door cracked slightly open, the sweet smell of banana and cinnamon pancakes fill your nose making you feel more awake and ready to take on the day full of zoom meetings and article writing. you hum to a tune mark recently showed you of his recent work he was planning on sending to a big company for approval, excited to be able to hear another hit of his on the radio and secretly knowing it’s your boyfriend who wrote and produced the song. mark being a ghost writer only hurt when you were reminded you couldn’t show off his creations to the world, other than that you were always very supportive and constantly told people of his career- you just couldn’t expose which hit songs he wrote and produced and for who.

even though mark was very friendly and popular locally, he was also very secretive about certain things such as his past and family. he was very brief about his siblings and childhood, only ever sharing about how his parents lived in canada and he barely spoke to them due to a falling out. whenever you asked, he dismissed it and said it wasn’t important since it was ‘all in the past’. whenever you asked how his childhood was, his regular bubbly personality changed to one full of tension. his frown was evident and eyes full of sorrow, making you change the subject to something else entirely that brought back the mark you had always known. so you never pondered much on the thought of it since everything else he did for you drowned out his secrets.

stepping out of the shower and onto the fluffy carpet on the floor, you dried yourself off with your velvet black towel and walked up to the mirror to start doing your morning routine. multiple steps later, you slipped on your clothing and matching house slippers with your boyfriend that he surprised you with last weekend. you rubbed some product into your hair before walking out of the bathroom and down the industrial spiral staircase, shuffling towards the soft vocals of Bazzi that bounced off the walls of the small kitchen. the sight of your boyfriend in his matching slippers, naked torso, and plain black boxers made your face light up. as previously stated: everything was perfect.

you shared a breakfast with him for the next hour as the cat took turns napping in each of your laps, ultimately deciding to sleep in yours for the last twenty minutes before you switched positions to start your work. mark happily cleaned everything up, not one complaint leaving his lips as he hummed quietly to himself as to not disturb your workday. you caught him catching glimpses at you as you attended a zoom meeting and waved bye to him off camera as he left the room to go do his work for the day.

you always wanted to see his personal at-home office, see how he decorated it or even watch him work his magic. but that was another secret he wanted to keep to himself, always making sure to lock the door behind himself as he exited and entered. he even went as far as to get a code lock for the door and not letting you know the code. one time you even tried every combination it allowed you to while he was out running errands but failed at every attempt you made. curiosity struck you from time to time at what he was hiding behind that wooden door, but you never questioned it since you knew it wasn’t any malicious intent behind it. i mean, he could never do anything wrong. he was mark lee. your loving boyfriend of two years who never did you wrong. so why would he start now?

by the time your zoom meeting ended, it was three in the afternoon and time for checking emails. logging into your emails, you noticed one labeled IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ ASAP from your close friend, jungwoo. he had become a close friend during your time in college, then when you both got accepted into the same company you both became even closer; you now thought of him as a brother. you automatically opened the email, concern flooding your brain as to why he emailed you in all caps at three in the morning. he was always known to be an early bird, even in your college days, so this was very unexpected and a bit odd. nonetheless, you opened the email and read his message attached with a link to a webpage.

i know it’s late, i’m sorry. but you need to see this. let me know when you get this.

was all it said above the link to a missing persons webpage. you clicked it, unsure of what she seemed so scared of in her email. but once you opened the page and scrolled down a bit, you understood. it was a bunch of different people, raging from missing for as long as five years to three months. but somewhere along the middle, you stopped.

impossible. this has to be some kind of sick joke. the face on your screen has to be some edit that one of your friends made as some distasteful prank. but the type of friends you had rarely pulled pranks and if they did they were minuscule and forgetful. this, this was different. an evil prank if there ever was one.

down the hall, the familiar creaking of your boyfriends work studio door was hearing opening. as his footsteps jogged down the steps towards your direction, you quickly shut your laptop closed and started packing up your items, pretending you had finished all your work for the day even though it wasn’t even four in the afternoon yet. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body from behind startled you, making you jump in his arms at the sudden contact.

“woah, are you good babe?” mark asked you as he moved his face down towards yours, planting a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away to stare at you lovingly.

the pit in your stomach wasn’t comforting in the slightest, if anything it made you want to vomit up all your emotions onto him and run away from your shared apartment. but you couldn’t do that; you had no idea what would even come of it. there had to be an explanation to all this.

you put on your best fake smile, pecking the lips you’ve loved for the past two years that suddenly felt more cold than warm. “sorry, was deep into packing everything up. i just finished for the day!” you attempted to sound excited that you had finished for the day, smiling from ear to ear and believable as you could.

luckily, it worked. mark had a voice telling him something was wrong with you, that something was up, but he ignored it because he trusted you with every fiber of his being. his one hand moved from your body to your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “so early? i thought your work day ended at four thirty?”

“it does,” you started as you wiggled from his grip attempting to stand up from your seat at the dining table. thinking of an excuse to throw him off your trail, you said it in an aggravated tone to show you were at least somewhat serious. well, you weren’t. but you didn’t want him to know that. “but i forgot one of my files at the office for tomorrow and have to run to go get it really quick.”

he just nodded, running a hand through your hair as he placed another loving kiss to your jaw. a fake giggle left your lips, a fake giggle that seemed nothing but real to your boyfriend. he might not buy what you’re selling him, but he knows there’s nothing malicious behind your potential fake lie. if anything he assumed it was for a surprise for him. “tacos tonight? my treat, i’ll place the order online for pickup.”

“sure babe.” you grabbed your briefcase and shut it tightly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door to slip on some sneakers. “taco bell or the taco place off of Woodbury and 15th?”

“Woodbury and 15th, duh. they have the best tacos around.” he followed behind you like a lost puppy, watching as you threw on your jean jacket and grabbed your keys from the key hook. “what time should i place it for pickup?”

you looked up in thought, pondering what time it would be best. “four thirty sounds good enough. should be done picking up my files and make it there in time for it to still be hot enough for us to eat when i return. do you need anything while i’m out?”

with a swift shake of his head and a goodbye kiss, you exchanged ‘see you later''’s as you exited the apartment and went down into the parking garage to your car. when you entered the vehicle, you threw your briefcase that you didn’t even need in the backseat so you could grip tightly onto the steering wheel in frustration.

why was your boyfriend, mark lee, on a missing persons list? and why did it say he went missing nearly three years ago? you tried convincing yourself it was a stupid website, a dumb website someone made up to trick you and get a laugh. but it was also an official government website so it couldn’t be fake. it was real. too real.

holding back tears as you drove down to your friend's home, you pulled into his parking lot and ran straight into the building. texting or calling him hadn’t even crossed your mind, you needed to talk to him face to face about this. how did he even find this webpage? when did he find it? was he just as confused as you were? nothing made sense and you just needed answers, any answer that remotely made sense would do at this point in time. within the first two knocks you were face to face with jungwoo, walking straight past him and into his living room with no hesitation in your step. you waited till he closed the door to even attempt at speaking.

“what the fuck?” was all you could say as you stared into the eyes of your distraught friend, taking a seat on his couch before putting your head in your heads.

he made her way to you cautiously, making sure to stay his distance since you seemed so upset by the news. “i found it last night and sent it to you right away. it makes no sense. im just as confused as you are.”

his hand resting on your shoulder brought you comfort, not much comfort but a pinch of what you were craving from anyone but mark- if that was even his real name. “i don’t know what to do.” you turned to face him, small tears streaming down your face that he subconsciously wiped away with his thumb. “do i ask him about it? i mean i met him two and a half years ago and it says he went missing three years ago, so i met him six months after he was reported missing.”

jungwoo shook his head right away. “no, don’t. we don’t even really know him-“

“i do-“

“no you don’t.” he interrupted, his voice remaining as calm as possible. “nobody does. i mean, what if he ran away from doing something terrible? what if he hurt someone?”

“he wouldn’t do that!” you yelled, more tears stinging your eyes as your best friend spoke. you watched his expression change to hurt, making him back away from you and over towards the other end of the couch. “no, i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m just- he just seemed so lovely. maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

he picked up his nearly empty wine glass, taking a sip as he leaned against the armrest. “for three years?” watching you crumble in front of his own eyes made his heart break into pieces; he never wanted to see you like this. “listen, i did as much research as i possibly could before passing out on my laptop and made a google doc about it, i could share it with you if you’d like and we can go over it together tomorrow? when you’re more calm.”

nodding in agreement, you wept in his arms for a bit before leaving his apartment and driving off to pick up the tacos mark ordered in. as you walked up to the vendor, he asked if you were okay since it seemed you were crying. you reassured him you were okay and there was nothing to worry about, smiling along with your lie to try and mask it as a truth. he didn’t buy it but gave you your tacos after payment anyway and wished you a goodnight, telling you to tell mark he said hello.

you made sure your face look somewhat normal before exiting the car and heading towards the elevator of your shared apartment, fiddling with the plastic bag out of habit due to your nerves. as you opened the front door, you plastered on your fakest, brightest smile so mark wouldn’t suspect a thing. and he didn’t, at all. his head shot in your direction as he laid across the sofa, jumping to his feet to go greet you and help you carry in your tacos and briefcase. his lips that greeted you no longer felt like safety, but instead of betrayal.

“missed you, babe.” he commented as he made his way into the kitchen, his smile never leaving his face.

“missed you more!” you shouted in reply, hanging your jacket back up before making your way to the couch to plop down in thought. how were you supposed to act normal around him, knowing he’s a supposed missing person?

the next morning you woke up an hour earlier than normal, wiggling your way out of your boyfriend's grip and quietly making your way downstairs to start the coffee and make some eggs with bacon. as you slipped on your morning cup of energizer, you read the google doc jungwoo had shared with you the previous night. you were reading every bullet point and reading every article he attached.

each article and point he made was more shocking than the last. one article mentioned how there was a late teen who went missing in ontario, canada with an attached photo of what seemed to be a younger version of your boyfriend. you couldn’t even attempt to convince yourself it was someone different- the resemblance was uncanny. the only difference was the name in the article was Minhyung Lee instead of Mark, but besides that there were no differences. a different article went on to explain his childhood, how he was always a troubled kid who always found himself in detention or in different juvenile detention centers. it continued on explaining how despite all of those challenges, he was such a great guy up until the incident.

the article never went into detail or said-incident, but it mentioned the slaying of three family members. reading just that small blurb left you sick to your stomach, but even more so after it explained that after the bodies were discovered in his home he was never seen again. how if anyone ever came across him to not interact or draw suspicion, but instead dial 911 and inform authorities of his whereabouts.

you were so caught up in reading the article you didn’t even hear mark coming down the stairs and enter the kitchen, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets and starting to pour himself a cup.

“you okay, babe? what’s wrong, bad nights sleep?” he questioned, breaking you out of your daze.

your eyes immediately darted to him, smiling warmly at him to withdraw suspicion of you being awake so early. “you could say that again.” closing your laptop, you made your way over towards the stove and moved the fully cooked bacon and sunny side up eggs onto a plate for him. you turned to face him and noticed him already dressed for the day, taking one last swig of coffee before grabbing his keys from the small bowl on the island counter.

he noticed your confusion and then the plate of eggs, frowning apologetically before grabbing a piece of bacon and shoving it into his mouth. “i don’t have time to eat this morning, i have an important meeting then a long day ahead of me. i’m sorry, i should’ve said something sooner.”

you shook your head in disagreement, leaning over to peck his lips before placing a small one on his cheek. “it’s okay, just make sure to eat when you can and to let me know when you get to work so i know you’re safe.”

he mumbled a soft ‘shit’ as he realized the time, noticing that if he didnt leave now he would be late. he placed his mug down swiftly before placing a sloppy kiss on your forehead and running out the door. normally you’d get giddy about him running late while seeming very professional, the sight being too cute for you to handle. but that pit in the bottom of your stomach wouldn’t leave no matter how much you wish it did. you wish everything was just some sort of sick nightmare and that your loving boyfriend of two years wasn’t some sort of potential killer from canada who’s been missing for three years.

as soon as he left, you called your friend and luckily he answered. you went over the facts you both found, or more so he found and you caught up on. jungwoo comforted you the best he could over the phone, saying you both would figure out a solution together. when you told him mark was gone in the studio all day till late, a lightbulb went off on top of his head.

“try sneaking into his office.” he suggested, running a nervous hand through his hair.

your eyes widened at the thought. “what? but i’ve tried every possible combination, it’s useless.”

“but what if he used the anniversary of the day he committed the crimes?”

you bit down on your lip, pondering for a moment. “but we don’t even know the date-“

“july twenty fifth.” he interrupted. “one of the last articles i sent you mentioned it, but i’m guessing you didn’t finish reading it all?”

“no, mark interrupted me before i could finish the whole doc.” you sighed, ultimately deciding to take on your friend's idea and walking up the stairs towards his at-home studio. “if i’m going to do this, please stay on the phone with me.”

jungwoo reassured you he wouldn’t hang up at all, and he never did. you tried the numbers of the date he provided, but the red blinking light signaled it was wrong.

“it didn’t work.” you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“instead of 0725 try 2507, switch it around.” your best friend suggested, anticipation stringing through his words.

after typing in the numbers backwards, the green lights signaled you could open the door and enter inside. wasting no time, you swung open the door and was greeted with something you didn’t expect. it didn’t look anything like a home studio, but instead a lonely mahogany desk with piles of different color coordinated folders and files scattered across the top of it with very few sitting on the floor around the chair. stepping inside, you looked around and noticed a duffel bag sitting at the corner of the room near the window that was closed off with wooden panels. you slowly made your way over there, being cautious not to step on anything or move anything out of place.

the bag itself was already zipped halfway open, allowing you to be able to peek inside and notice some bloody knives sticking out of the side. your eyes widened, making you take a few steps back into the closet of the room. when first buying this loft, you hadn’t noticed this particular closet. but granted you haven’t been inside this room for several months now so you might’ve forgotten it. but since you let your curiosity get the best of you, you found your fingers sliding it open and being greeted by nothing. there was nothing but black clothing, extra sneakers that were also black, but that was until you noticed something dangling from the ceiling: a small rope. you knew you shouldn’t open it, you knew you should’ve just called the cops or even answer your friend who was still on the phone screaming at you to answer him, but you did the stupid thing you knew you shouldn’t have and opened it.

down came a set of wooden stairs leading up to something that seemed to be an attic, or a makeshift attic of some sorts. as the stairs came down, some movement was heard and a light popped on in the middle of the room. you took in a big breath of air before climbing up the dingy stairs and peaking in the room. inside seemed empty, nothing but an extra mattress and a few boxes. but when you heard some shuffling from the corner behind you, you whipped your head in it’s direction and noticed a man sitting there chained up to the wall.

the sight alone almost made you drop your phone but thankfully you tightened the grip on it which caused it to stay in your hands. the man’s eyes widened as well, trying his best to say words but failing to do so as a ball gag was in his mouth. in the background of all this was your friend on the line, asking what all the commotion was. it wasn’t until he said he was going to send the cops that you spoke up.

“this is so much deeper than we thought, jungwoo.” you said to him, making him yell a ‘what’ on the other end. “send the cops. give them the code to my apartment door. tell them there’s a man in the attic.” was all you said before hanging up on him.

leaving your best friend in confusion, you fully pulled yourself into the attic and crawled over towards the scared man. although he was excited to see someone else for a change, he was also scared you were part of what mark had going on. he cowered in fear, backing up into the wall as he watched you remove the ball gag from his mouth. he was unsure whether to scream or just stare, so he opted out on just staring at the stranger in front of him.

you stared back, not sure what to even say to him. “what’s your name?” you asked him, putting the ball gag to the side of him as you stared down at his condition. his clothes were dirty, ripped at some edges and obviously had been worn out for quite some time now. the sight made you frown, tears welling up in the back of your throat. but you kept them down, you had to for this stranger that was being held captive by your boyfriend for some unknown reason to you.

“taeil. moon taeil.” he replied, his voice sounding dry and broken. “who are you? please help me, i’ve been up here for months.”

suddenly, you heard the front door of your apartment open and mark shout out that he forgot something and apologizing for disturbing your work. eyes widening, you slip back on the ball gag as tears fall from his eyes, quiet mumbles of disagreement falling from his lips being heard from him before you tighten it on him. you quietly pull up the rope to hide the stairs, making sure it closed tightly before shuffling around to find a place to hide. you ultimately decided on the abnormally large yet dusty toy trunk in another corner of the room, unlocking it quickly and squeezing in as tightly as you could before you heard mark pull down the rope to enter the attic.

you heard him tsk as he crawled up the creaky wooden steps, an obvious smile on his lips as he spoke. “you’re lucky this room is soundproof, you're moving around way too much for my liking.” he said, his tone different from his usual one. this one was threatening, more scary and off putting.

taeil’s muffled cries were filling the room, earning a small laugh from mark. this laugh was different as well, very sarcastic and something fueled by rage. “i have a proposition for you, taeil.” you heard something being picked up from the floor, earning a loud muffled scream to be heard from the chained up stranger. “tell me where they are, and i won’t kill you tonight like i planned.”

your eyes widened. he couldn’t possibly be talking about you, could he? no, it’s impossible. you’ve been quiet this whole time, and you made sure to not leave a trace that you had been in his ‘studio’. your mind flooded with what he was referencing, but everything kept pointing back to you. and what does he mean tonight? is that why he was staying at work late and encouraged you to go out and have fun with audrey? so he could sneak home early and get rid of taeil?

a shake of some chains could be heard, signaling taeil had shaken his head. “come on, i know they’re in here somewhere. i saw on the camera, now where are they?” fuck. you didn’t even notice any cameras. “if you tell me, i’ll let you go right now.”

another shake of the chain and you soon heard footsteps approaching the toy trunk, meaning taeil gave you up. as much as you wanted to hate him for telling mark, you probably would’ve done the same if you were in his situation. you could’ve sworn your breathing stopped as you heard the lock twist on the toy trunk, soon the dim lighting of the attic showing you your boyfriend with a knife between his fingers. he smiled down at you, not with love or admiration but with something sinister.

he shook his head with a chuckle, kneeling down to your eye level as he teased you with the already bloody knife. the blood seemed recent, and when you glanced over at taeil for a split second you noticed a fresh mark across his chest that was dripping from a fresh wound. attempting to mask your fear was no use, even if you did try your hardest to. mark was able to see right through you, the mark you thought you knew.

“how’d you figure it out, huh?” he brought the knife down to your cheek, trailing the cold metal along your cheekbone with gradual pressure. “how long have you known?”

his evil smile never once left his face, making your insides churn in disgust. you swallowed hard before responding, mentally yelling at yourself not to stutter as you replied to his questions. “FBI’s missing persons list, i’ve known for two days.”

“two days and you’re already getting this nosey? tsk tsk, babe.” the knife trailed down to your jawline, the pressure starting to sting when it starts to draw some blood. “you’re so cute, trying to save little taeil over here but he gave you up without a thought thinking i’d actually let him go.”

screams were heard through taeil’s ball gag, making you both turn to look at him as tears fell from his eyes. without a thought, you quickly kicked mark in the face with your foot with a swift yet hard kick. watching him fall onto his back and the knife slide across the wooden flooring, you jump out of the trunk and run towards the knife, picking it up and climbing down the attic stairs. an aggravated groan was heard from mark as you touched the floor of his supposed studio, running out into the hall and hearing him follow behind you shortly after. you heard him scream after you followed by him grabbing at the shirt you were wearing that was coincidentally his. he pulled you back harshly, causing you to slide across the floor and towards the industrial stairs with the knife falling down to the first floor.

you crawled backwards down the stairs, kicking at him as you attempted to escape. eventually, he fell back onto the floor once more which gave you a few seconds to jump to your feet and attempt to run down to first floor and out the door. but before you could, mark was quick to his feet and grabbed your shoulders. he tried to push you over the railing of the spiral staircase, but you were a fighter. always were, and always will be. you fought back just as hard, even if half of your body was dangling off the edge of the railing and his hands around your neck in attempt to weaken you. in one motion, you brought your knee up to his crotch hard which made him groan and loosen his grip on you. taking this small window of opportunity, you pushed him back and off of the railing successfully.

the noise it made when he fell made you cover your ears, the crack and imagery of his body limp out across the floor with blood pouring out at a rapid rate made you nearly vomit. you slowly made your way down the stairs and towards the front door, not even sparing a glance in the direction of your boyfriend. before you could

turn the handle, the door swung open and in front of you were policed officers with their guns pulled out accompanied by your best friend. all the officers rushed past you and into the apartment while you fell into the comforting arms of jungwoo, your tears finally escaping from your eyes.

you sat on the balcony of jungwoo’s apartment as you read the new article written about mark. it was ten months after the incident had occurred, and people were still writing about everything that happened; even youtubers were making videos about it and netflix and peacock both reached out for documentaries or a dramatic remake of your trauma. of course you declined, even if the seven digit numbers they offered were the tiniest bit tempting.

the full story about mark shocked you to your core, because the mark that you met and loved all those years was not the same mark who tried to kill you that day. after fleeing canada successfully, he took the next amtrak train out to the farthest city and figured he’d wing it when he got there. which he ended up doing successfully. he ended up meeting poor taeil, becoming close friends with him and eventually masking as him in daily life. taeil was a fresh college graduate starting at a new company, and after mark found that out he decided to chain him up in taeil’s own apartment for months and stealing his identity. he posed as taeil at work and did a damn well good job at it. then once you both decided to move in together, he moved taeil up to his ‘at home studio’ attic and the days you thought he was working from home, he was really torturing taeil up in the secret room behind the closet he had built in. every sadistic detail about the past three years was written down in a leather journal he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk, every detail of how he hurt his family, tortured and kidnapped taeil, and how much he loved you. everything was very sick and twisted.

as the summer rain pelted against the metal railing, you couldn’t help but shudder in disgust at the sight and noise. jungwoo, who was sitting beside you noticed this and decided to bring it up. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you nodded, taking a sip from your coffee mug as you looked out to the setting sun. the oranges and reds mixed together beautifully, but the view just made you upset if anything. “i’m fine. i just hate the summer rain.”

maybe there wasn’t always beauty in the things you hate.

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