hayoon has always liked jungwon.
jungwon has never liked her back.
but after the most humiliating ex-
perience of his life, the thought of
hayoon grows a little less badly day
by day. but just as he realised he
was chasing the wrong girl, he also
...
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— SEOUL, NOVEMBER 1999
❝stay in the middle, like you a little, don't want no riddle, 말해줘 say it back, oh, say it ditto.❞
─────────
it hurt to remember.
the way seolhyun would cry. it wasn't ever small, or soft. It was loud, painful, and it grew from her chest and erupted from her throat. Or the way she'd shiver out in the cold waiting for the late bus because she couldn't leave school without getting picked on. Or the way she'd make sure she kept her eyes focused on the cold of the ground rather dare look up and make eye contact with anyone who could intimidate her.
the way she'd rush to him for comfort afterwards. The way she'd sob into his arms and he'd rub her hair as he whispered and wished for her pain to leave, to evaporate in thin air. The way he was her first, her priority, the only one to know of the true depths of her pain, her struggle. it hurt to remember.
but just as it hurt to remember that, it hurt to remember them.
it hurt to remember the way soobin's jaw flexed as he tilted her head back. It hurt to remember the way she clenched onto his school blazer like it were the only thing keeping her alive. like the moment, the moment of the two just in their own world, lips moving against the latter in it's own silent dance. like he was safety. like he was comfort.
like he was love.
"there's plenty of fish in the sea," riki weakly tried to comfort the older boy, large hands patting jungwon's slumped shoulders.
jungwon scoffed. "i don't even like fish!" he pouted, only ever so slightly, as he brushed riki's hands away, the warmth replacing the cool draft of the cafeteria. "and that's easy for you to say, riki. you have a girlfriend." jungwon's hand fluttered in rina's distant direction, coupled with begrudging grumbles.
"he just means to give it time, won." sunoo hummed, pausing from the interest of his lunch to offer something into this conversation (which, really wasn't going anywhere if being honest.)
jungwon sighed, poking at his lunch distastefully. he glanced up, watching as riki's eyes lit up the second rina walked past, all toothy smiles and blushes. sunoo's spark, predictably, was his lunch — every bite making him hum like it was some gourmet masterpiece, a personal heaven send of delight.
jungwon wanted that.
he wanted his sparkle.
and for the longest time, he thought it was seolhyun.
maybe he was just wrong.
"giving it time sounds impossible." jungwon sighed, burying his face into his hands.
"i know," sunoo sighed, eyes watering with empathy. "i'm sorry. i wish i could just... take away your heartbreak."
"eww," riki sneered. "you're gross."
"can i not love my best friend?" sunoo raised a hand threateningly.
unlike his current predicament, jungwon laughed. well, tried to. it came out scratchy and hoarse and forced — but hey, he laughed. slowly, riki and sunoo peered his way with bewildered, wide-eyed looks. he didn't blame them. it didn't sound like him either.
he stood up from his seat with one sudden, sharp movement, grabbing his bag with the kind of robotic efficiency that screamed he didn't want to feel. didn't want to think.
he brushed down his meticulously ironed uniform, rolling his shoulders back, adjusting his school tie until it sat just right.
sunoo blinked up at him, confused. "where are you going?"
jungwon didn't meet his eyes. didn't need to.
"detention duty," he muttered. the sigh that followed was quiet — not tired, just empty. empty in a way he was never used to.
because normally, detention duty was power. detention duty was good points on his cv. right now, detention duty was pushing away heartbreak and watching troublemakers with nothing better to do with their lives sit in a dusty room for an hour straight.
he didn't walk to the detention classroom with flourish. he dragged his feet with every weak little step, head downcast. everyone noticed, of course. everyone knew that this wasn't the normal jungwon.
not the jungwon who loved school. not the jungwon who raised his hand for every question and got every one right.
not the jungwon who stayed late to help teachers alphabetize files or ran from classroom to classroom collecting attendance sheets.
not the jungwon who found comfort in order, in checklists, in being good.
no. this was a jungwon who, beneath it all, was just a boy with a broken heart.
