When Shadows Fall | BTS Kim Namjoon

Chapter 2: Stupid Boy!

I completely didn't recognize Namjoon. He was so tall, and his hair was bleached a light blond, and his face had become more angular and smooth.

When he saw me, he seemed to immediately recognize me. I bowed and said, "Hello," suddenly annoyed. I had hardly changed at all in eight years, but he had grown sophisticated and confident, and looked so different. I was still short, with the same baby face and boring straight hair.

I forced myself to breathe as everyone walked to the table. I had done very well, actually, earning respect for my hard work and sharp mind. I bolstered my confidence and squared my shoulders.

Sitting down, I stayed mostly silent through the meal, listening to the chatter of people at the table. Mr. Kim's business was apparently picking up, and there was much talk of Namjoon's band Bangtan Sonyeondan. The name sounded familiar, but I had stopped paying much attention to the music industry several years ago when I began high school and started to get serious about my studies.

Before the meal was over, an old feeling of community had returned to the table, and I was reminded why the Kim family had gotten together so often with mine. It was quite nice, and I smiled more freely.

After the meal, everyone moved to the family room, where the seats were more comfortable. I smiled at the small talk, settling in a chair in the corner.

Suddenly the phone rang. Namjoon was sitting next to the phone, and looked at my parents. "Would you like me to answer it?" His voice was so deep and direct.

"Please," my father said.

Namjoon picked the phone up from the cradle. "Hello, this is the Jeong residence." After a moment, he looked straight at me. "It's for Jeong Chunhwa."

I stood up quickly and hurried over to the phone, wondering who could be calling me. Taking the phone, trying desperately not to touch Namjoon's hand, I said, "Hello?"

"Hello, Chunhwa. This is Professor Lee."

I nervously grabbed the phone cord and rolled the twisty wire in my hand. I wished everyone wasn't watching; what could my professor want?

"Oh, Professor Lee," I said. Was there a problem with my paper?

"Chunhwa, I'm calling because your paper was excellent. Your grade, as you may have expected due to your past history, is 100%." I relaxed and couldn't stop a smile. "Really, for someone of your age, this is one of the best I've ever read." I could feel my smile getting too wide, and started blushing. Everyone was still staring at me.

"Thank you, Professor," I said, but my professor wasn't finished.

"At the beginning of the month the college is having a conference on several issues like this, and the faculty wants you to read your paper as an introduction to that section. They'll be sending you the information."

"I'm honored," I said quickly, unable to believe it.

"Also, I would personally recommend that you send this essay to one of the national college essay competitions."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Anyways, very good job, Jeong Chunhwa. Keep up the good work."

I grinned and said thank you again. When I hung up, everyone was still staring at me. I couldn't help laughing at their faces and at the incredible euphoria of success.