29 | a callback to freedom

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29

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THE SUMMER OF 2007
Jisung's House Party

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Jisung isn't sure how the word gets out, but the next thing he knows, his house is flooded with teenagers. Raunchy pop music blares from the stereo in the living room, vibrating through the walls and the floors.

Jisung is in his bedroom, turning every few seconds to watch the commotion unfold from his window.

"Would you quit moving?!"

Jisung startles at the voice, snapping his head back to Felix and the fucking makeup brush he's aggressively waving in Jisung's face.

"How many people did you invite?!" Jisung gapes, eyes wide as he stares back down at the horde of teenagers crowding the pool and backyard. "A–And that's enough with the...um...the makeup."

"Not important," Felix huffs, swiping a glittery lip gloss across Jisung's bottom lip. It feels more sticky than glossy on his mouth. "And don't you dare complain about the makeup. You're wearing it, and that's final."

Jisung grimaces but doesn't protest. Felix has a weird fetish from emasculating men and using their faces as paint canvases—Jisung acknowledges that. To save himself from looking like a killer clown though, Jisung recoils when Felix slams the foundation into a hot pink powdery substance. No. Absolutely not.

"Seriously, Felix, there's like three hundred people down there!"

"It's a small world, Ji." Felix shrugs, stepping back to admire his work. "People know people. Plus, word spreads fast. Y'know Telephone*? 'S kinda' like that."

"You're insane." Jisung shakes his head, then motions to his face. "This is insane."

"Relax," Felix snorts, applying lip gloss to his own lips (which is the same, cheap pink "gloss" he had swiped onto Jisung's lips). "You look hot. Like, super hot. Like, 'I'd date you' hot. Like—"

"Alright, I get it," Jisung interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. "Let me assess the damage you've done to my face."

Felix scoffs. "Rude!"

Jisung peers in the mirror, and his jaw drops. Actually drops. His cheeks have been coated with a thick layer of glittery, silver highlighter and his eyelids have been painted a dark gray color—some sort of ombre that gets lighter as Jisung tests new angles on the mirror. His lips are a bright, candy pink, and a faint blush has been spread across his cheeks.

(Jisung can't tell if the blush is natural or not. Lovely.)

"Oh my god," Jisung whispers, staring at his reflection. "Why do I look like a girl?"

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