Prologue

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Kim Seokjin's secret note
November 12, 20XX

To my dearest amber,

Hey!

Hey.

Hey?

Shit. This is my tenth scratch on my notebook today. I don't know how to write a letter because I never wrote for anyone, not even for my mom; not until you came.

I was a Senior from that high school that you just transfered in to. And you were leaping on your steps happily as you get inside of that steel opened gate of the campus. But, I wasn't as excited as you or maybe because I've seen most of the faces from that school eversince I was a freshmen. I am not the good guy you think I am, I am a one hell of a troublemaker back then and you, being a joyous innocent tranferee in that school, You were the one I had interest to bully.

You are wearing your uniform as properly as it could, your white polo covered by the school's blazer wrapped in a soft black coat as a third finishing touch of your top and a skirt that falls just a little longer, just enough to cover your slender thighs.

And those white knee socks that I really hate the most, The school isn't friends with fashion I might say. But you look so happy, wearing that uniform in fresh ironed and you, holding your backpack's straps with your tiny fists looking so ready to start learning in your first class ahead.

Yes, isn't it strange how I remembered how you looked on the first day you walked in into that goddamn school?. But it's because I'm just enjoying the first and the last day of you being happy; the one that I will bully for the rest of my last year.

I wasn't interested in you like in a romantic way, yet.

It was a friday of that same first week of your school year there and you're wearing a P.E uniform, trying to catch the volleyball you keep throwing in the air with your curled fist together and your mouth hanged open and eyes concentrated on the ball.

I was practicing basketball that time, together with you, freshmen who is supervised by a P.E instructor on the other side of the court. That was also the time that I started to get your attention by purposely threw the ball at your area.

I didn't meant to target you but the ball ended up striking you in the head. You winced in pain as you stomped your butt on the ground, I felt bad for a short second but I turned back in for being not sorry. I even had the audacity to bark at you of being so unattentive in your surroundings, then there I got your attention. Not because I like you but because I was starting to bully you.

It was a Monday, Three days since the day of the incident I've made to get your attention. Now you're at the canteen, eating your bread with jam on it and a yogurt on the side.

My friends and I are just a couple tables away from you but from where I am seated, I got a full picture of you from the distance. You got that full cheeks round as you munch the bread and your eyes wide open like you were feeling that sweetness and the softness of the bread and the jam that is circulating inside of your mouth. I admit, I kind of enjoyed watching you eat and how you smiled heavenly when you gulped in your first munch of the bread. I can't contain to let out a small tint of a smile on my face.

I've spent the whole week then, interrogating you with nonsense questions or bullying you along the hallways in which made you very annoyed. I can't help it, I find it very amusing when your nose flares in anger as you blunt words at me like 'can you stop bothering me?!' or 'Why do you keep on following me and throwing stuffs at me?!, I dont even know you!' and your cheeks flushed in red as you balled your tiny hand into a tight gripped fist.

And there's me, Trying to act cool and resting my other hand on my pocket and the other loosely gripping the strap of my bag, giving you a cocky smile. I even remember how you rolled your eyes at me and spat 'cocky bastard' before you stormed away from me leaving me speechless.

I mean, No one has ever had the guts to call me that and yet, there you are, spits it like it was none of my business. I huffed, half irritated and half amused by your audacity. There, I concluded, You are different from the others, I know. And I loved it.

But, the real reason why I write a letter for you is to tell you something I couldn't speak out from that night, 6 months after the day I first met you.

That night that the thick drops of heavy rain was dripping down from your hair down to your body, standing there unsheltered under the heavy rain in front of me as I am being sheltered under my umbrella five feet apart from you and standing behind my car with your eyes doe pleading me to stay.

I'm sorry

I know just simply saying sorry wasn't enough and it will never be. But, for the last time. Can you hear me out through this letter? I'll tell you everything.

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