WARM MILK | JJK

⠀⠀⠀⠀02: MAZURKA, OP. 17, NO. 4

ACTE UN ― SCÉNE DEUX
REMARKABLY PERPLEXED.

     THE CREME COLOR of the paper, smooth and warm, stares Sekyung down. She has been sat in front of the piano for what seems like eons, pressing against the keys as they scream out in agonizing discord beneath her fingertips.

"Miss Do," The drawl of the professor interrupts her.

"My next class begins in 10 minutes," he looks at her in disdain. "If you need more practice, I suggest you do it on your own time."

He says it in such a way that it sounds like he is insinuating that she does need the practice.

Sekyung's eyebrows are knit together in frustration. However, her first class of the day is Psychology, and if she misses even a minute, she is afraid she will be abysmally behind.

So, with a sigh, she swings her bag over her shoulder and grabs the worn book of music she had been practicing out of (titled Chopin: Complete Mazurkas) before nodding in the professor's direction.

"Yes, I'm sorry," she mutters slightly. "I'll be going now."

There is a sound of approval from her professor before she leaves the hall, escaping the music department's building in search of her next class.

Sekyung loves being a music major, she really does. But sometimes (more often than not, actually) it can be hard. So much harder than most people think. The unending practice, the hours upon hours dedicated to getting a certain bar perfect is something only a musician can relate to.

What makes it so difficult, she supposes, is the additional factor of human emotion. With other areas of study, like math or science, all you have to do is manipulate a few numbers and you're there. But with music, and any other art form, you have to account for what people will feel. What will they feel when they listen to you play? When they watch you perform, or they look at something you have made?

That factor is why Sekyung loves music so much, and why she is practicing before her classes start, even on the first day of the semester.

Ten minutes after escaping the music department found Sekyung half way across campus, sitting inside a lecture hall that seemed too big for the amount of people within it.

"Excuse me..." A tentative voice begins on her left.

"Is this seat taken?"

She looks up to see a small girl clutching notebooks to her chest while she peers expectantly. Sekyung doesn't miss the way she flinches slightly when she looks up, but instead of backing away like she had expected, the girl stood her ground.

A few moments later, Sekyung shakes her head slightly and moves her bag.

The girl beams brightly. "Thank you! I'm Ito Nanami, by the way. But you can call me Nana!"

"Sekyung," she replies awkwardly. "Are you a transfer student?"

"Yeah!" Nana responds, hushed.

"What gave it away? The accent? Or do I dress badly? My hair?"

She pats herself worriedly, as if searching for something that might be out of place.

"Actually," Sekyung raises a brow. "It was your name."

"Oh," the girl blushes. "Right. I forgot about that..."

Not even a moment passes before she starts talking again.

"So, are you ready for this year? I've heard that Professor Cho is hard, but teaches more than Professor Kim..." Nana babbles on, not letting Sekyung get a word in edgewise ― not that she minds; she's perfectly content to let the girl continue on for as long as she wants.

"Wait!" She comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of her montage.

"I'm so sorry," she gasps, bringing her brightly painted fingers to cover her mouth. "I have a really bad habit of talking too much, please forgive me!"

Sekyung cracks a smile at this, and Nana seems slightly flustered.

However, she does not have the chance to reply. The boisterous chatter fades to a muted hum as a slight woman walks in: Professor Cho.

"Hello," she announces brusquely. "Welcome to Intro to Psychology."

She had only said six words, yet Sekyung could tell immediately that she was a woman who meant business. Her tone was sharp, and she seemed to command the room despite her small frame.

"I trust you all have copies of the syllabus," she begins. "Please read it on your own time and know what is expected of you. Today we will begin covering the course material for this class..."

From the corner of her eyes, Sekyung can see Nana's nose scrunch up as she reaches for a large stack of papers, immaculately ordered. She shuffles through them with intense concentration, until she finds the one she was looking for, a triumphant smile stretched across her pink lips. In turn, Sekyung can't help but smile slightly at her.

She's so adorable, she muses.

Professor Cho spends the next fifteen minutes discussing the first chapter of the book she required for the course, and Sekyung tries her hardest to pay attention.

She has paper out, and is attempting to take notes as she listens, although she isn't sure hers are up to par when she glances over and sees Nana already pulling out a clean sheet. The lecture wasn't exactly boring, but Sekyung wouldn't go as far to say that it was interesting either.

"Hmm," Professor Cho murmurs as she glances down at what seems to be a roll sheet. "Miss Do?"

Sekyung starts at her name, shooting out of her seat to stand up.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Would you mind explaining―" She begins, but her words falter as attention is drawn elsewhere.

It is at that moment that the door swings open with a resounding bang, and the hall is blanketed in silence as all eyes snap to the front.

Standing in the doorway is a tall boy with dark, windswept hair and wide eyes. He looks like he was in a rush, yet doesn't seem out of breath at all.

The second he stepped in, something shifted. He came in with waves of warmth. It sounds strange, but Sekyung could feel light emanating off of him. It is almost as if he is the sun.

At that thought, she shudders.

All eyes are on him ― particularly, the girls in the room. Murmurs break out as he walks further into the classroom, deeply bowing before Professor Cho. She, on her part, looks unimpressed.

They exchange words, quietly so that nobody other than them can here, before she nods her head in affirmation. Taking that as his cue, the boy walks further in to take a seat towards the front.

"Next time, please try to be on time for class, Mr. Jeon," Professor Cho drawls dryly.

He nods, bowing his head slightly. "Of course, Professor Cho. It won't happen again."

Nana leans towards Sekyung.

"Jeon?" She questions. "D'you think that's Jeon Jungkook?"

"Jeon Jungkook?" Sekyung furrows her eyebrows. "Should I know that name?"

Nana shrugs her shoulders, but chooses to focus on Professor Cho rather than answer. Sekyung spends the rest of the class distracted as she stares at him, scrutinizing the back of his head.

Who is he? She wonders to herself. And why do I care?