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We are late.
With flushed cheeks, heaving chests and disheveled hair, we slink back into class sheepishly, bowing our heads apologetically as if we were in Korea and not Australia where no one gives a damn if you're late or not.
"What were you two up to?" our teacher questions jokingly, in a way that would insinuate that we were up to no good. Taehyung just holds up a hand to him with that adorable smile of his and says, "Sorry."
The class is dismissed a minute later, and I shoulder my bag, ready to walk right out of there and go straight home when I hear footsteps. A solid arm hooks around my shoulders, and a warm voice vibrates above me.
"Let's go eat something – I'm starving."
I push away from him, picking up pace. "I need to go to work."
I hear his footsteps falter, but then, swift as lightning, he is beside me, matching my brisk stride. "Where do you work?"
"At a gift shop," I surprise myself with how easily the words tumble out, with no attempt to cover up the truth. Why is it so easy to talk to him?
"Oh, cool. Can you get me discounts?"
I arch an eyebrow at him. "That's not how it works, Taehyung."
We fall into silence, and I notice that I can only hear one pair of footsteps. I turn, and he has stopped, mouth gaping. "What?"
"That's the first time you've said my name!" he breathes out in disbelief.
I scoff. "Stop being so dramatic."
But as we continue to walk to the tram stop, I realize that he had every right to be dramatic. I never say anyone's names. At least, not since I started tertiary education. Calling people by their names means you acknowledge them, appreciate them, know them.
I don't want to know anyone. But I guess Taehyung wants to know me.
We catch a tram to the heart of the city, where you can find anything and everything. Living in a multicultural melting pot really does have its perks, because everyone is diverse, everyone is different, yet we all belong. We all blend in.
I can't believe I am hanging out with Taehyung after class. Not that I could say no to his pleas as he claimed that his stomach was eating itself and that his heart was next. I don't understand how that is possible, but the guy wouldn't shut up, so I guess that's why I'm here.
Besides, I'm also a little hungry.
"You're going to eat all of that?" I gawp as the waitress delivers our trays of food, or, in Taehyung's case, a whole entire buffet.
"I told you I'm hungry."
He devours his lamb burger in four bites, while popping in chips at each interval. I barely get through half my own burger when he is done, moving on to his second burger.
