III: friends

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        Jaebeom goes back to his mother's room feeling exhausted and trying not to think of Jinyoung at the rooftop, definitely not imagining him standing at the edge again, the tip of his shoes against nothing but the thin air as he opens his eyes again, this time his body eerily tilting forward, and then suddenly—

No, Jaebeom doesn't think about a boy he doesn't really know killing himself. What he wants to hear the least is more death or anything gloomy like that. He needs positive energy and people, not weird ones fascinated with death.

Seriously though? What kind of persons is fascinated with death? Death is an unknown and scary thing, something that takes your loved ones and leaves you to wither without them. Death is a horrid thing, not something to admire or even seek.

Evidently, Jaebeom will never understand people like Park Jinyoung, if there are others like him.

Pushing everything related with Jinyoung to the farthest corner of his mind, Jaebeom slides the door to his mother's room and steps inside, wearing a smile that doesn't really make a difference except for himself.

"Eomma, I'm back," he calls cheerfully. "You won't believe me what happened to me. Again!" He starts, walking up to the chair by her bed where he always sit to make her company. "I went to the rooftop and there was this guy there and I swear he looked like he was going to jump but actually he wasn't and he got angry at me for trying to save him because, apparently, he was just appreciating the view. And it's the second time I meet him in a disturbingly similar situation. Are there people who truly love heights?"

Jaebeom isn't the chatty type, neither is he the quiet type, those are his friends Jackson and Mark, respectively. Jaebeom is the type that speaks sufficiently, he isn't the funny or amicable type, but he's eloquent and likes having deep conversations, he feels really uncomfortable with small talk and prefers not talking at all with strangers if there isn't anyone to work as buffer in those situations. Talking so much to this mother, about everything and nothing is one of the most exhausting things to do for him because he just doesn't have much to tell, that's why reading works so well for him.

"He's a really weird lad and very reckless. People like him get in or cause accidents," Jaebeom continues, shaking his head. "I hope I don't run into him ever again. Just talking to him gave me headache."

"Did I hear right? Are you making new friends while totally ignoring us?" Someone else asks, loud and outraged as the door slides open dramatically.

Jaebeom jumps on his seat, hand flying to his chest in shock while at the door someone he knows too well stands, glaring at him.

"Jackson, God, you startled me," he accuses, relaxing and taking a deep breath.

"Don't avoid the question, hyung. You said you don't have time to come and see us but you are hanging out with other headache-inducing people? I thought that honour was reserved for me."

From behind Jackson, Jaebeom's best friend for the last ten years, comes another man, laughing happily and brightly at Jackson's offended reaction.

"Don't make him feel like you're replacing him, Jaebeom-ah," Mark, their sunbae in university warns him as he pokes his head over Jackson's shoulder. "Hi there."

"Hi, hyung," Jaebeom smiles waving joyful to see them visiting.

"You're still not answering!" Jackson insists, causing Mark to laugh some more before just pushing him to walk inside the room. He's carrying flowers for Jaebeom's mother that the son receives to put in somewhere.

"I just ran into someone crazy, I didn't make friends," Jaebeom finally replies. "And don't worry, you'll always be my worst headache."

"But also your medicine!" Jackson adds over-sweetly, his expression changing completely to one of exaggerated affection and charms he doesn't really have.

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