Hwang Hyunjin || Call My Name (Under Revision)

34. Where it all started

CHANGBIN'S POV

Three years ago.

At the time, Chan and I were inseparable. We laughed easily, got in trouble together, and lived like the world was ours alone. So when he suddenly started studying seriously—like, obsessively—I thought he was joking. But no. He meant it. He was dead-set on turning his grades around, barely even acknowledging me anymore.

It hurt. I didn't know why it bothered me so much at first. Maybe it was just the sudden distance, or maybe it was because it felt like he was slipping away. When I finally confronted him about it, he apologized and asked me to study with him—said it was his way of making it up to me.

Of course, I said no. I thought it was ridiculous. But deep down... I couldn't bear to be away from him. So I gave in.

We studied like madmen. I barely slept, pushing myself harder than I ever had. There were moments I actually found it interesting, almost fun. But when my grades didn't budge, when my best wasn't enough—I started to spiral. Chan kept encouraging me, but his words felt distant, like I couldn't reach him anymore.

Then Woojin came back.

The moment I saw them together—smiling, talking like old friends—it was like ice water down my spine. My stomach twisted. Woojin was never part of our world. He didn't even know Chan. So why did they look so close?

When I asked Chan about it, he called Woojin his "angel"—said he helped him figure things out, gave him a reason to do better. He spoke so highly of him, like Woojin had saved him. And I... I felt small. Like nothing I ever did mattered.

Suddenly, Chan was always with Woojin. I faded into the background, left picking up the pieces of our friendship. I told myself it was fine. That I was being dramatic. But when I found out they were going out for drinks—just the two of them—I couldn't sit still.

I showed up at the bar. I don't even know how I got the address, but I found them in a private room. Chan was already drunk, slurring, laughing with some girl next to him. Woojin looked surprised, but calm. Like he'd been expecting me.

He called me his best friend and handed me a drink. I took it. I just wanted to get Chan out of there peacefully. But after a few sips, everything blurred, and the next thing I remember... I was waking up in a cold, dark room.

Tied up. Gagged. Woojin was hovering above me.

I panicked. Screamed through the cloth. He said he had videos. Proof. That if I told anyone, he'd destroy everything I cared about. My family. Our business. My future.

I didn't have a choice. I gave in.

After that night, I wasn't the same. I skipped school for weeks. Got in trouble for fighting. People whispered about me, called me a delinquent. I didn't care. I was just trying to survive.

Then, on the last day of 10th grade, my teacher asked me to bring some papers to the staff room. No one was there, but I found Woojin at a teacher's computer. Calm. Focused. Like he belonged there.

He didn't even flinch when I walked in.

I asked him what he was doing. He said he was changing Chan's grades—fixing them. Said Chan had failed, but he couldn't let that happen.

"Why?" I asked. My voice was barely a whisper.

He smiled. "Because I like him."

I dropped the papers.

A few moments later, the teachers walked in. They asked questions. Woojin wouldn't answer. They expelled him on the spot.

They asked me to testify. To tell them what I saw. But I couldn't. I lied. I said I'd just walked in. I was scared. I still am.

Rumors started swirling after that. People talked, made things up. And Chan... Chan didn't understand what happened. He was just confused and hurt.

He never found out the truth.

Not about Woojin.
Not about me.
Not about the way I feel when I look at him.

*****

CHAN'S POV

I tossed my bag to the floor and collapsed onto the bed, my limbs heavy, my head spinning. I stared blankly at the ceiling, but nothing made sense. Not after what Changbin told me.

Woojin—his childhood friend—murdered her. Her and her entire family. He hurt Changbin. Used him. Threatened him. I could still hear Changbin's voice in my ears, trembling but determined as he finally told me the truth. But how could that even be true?

Woojin... dependable, calm, soft-spoken Woojin. He's the one I opened up to when I couldn't tell anyone else. I told him everything—my fears, my plans, my dreams. I trusted him.

Was it all fake?

I slowly stood up and peeled off my clothes. My chest felt tight, like there wasn't enough air in the room. I stepped into the shower, hoping the water would wash away the confusion in my head. But it didn't.

Instead, the weight of everything crashed down on me all at once. My hands trembled as I ran them through my hair, gripping it tightly as tears spilled down my cheeks.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," I whispered to the running water.

The steam clouded the mirror, and my reflection disappeared—just like the person I thought I was. Just like the people I thought I knew.

I slid down to the floor of the shower, knees pulled to my chest as I sat beneath the stream of water. The sobs came harder now, raw and messy, echoing against the tiles. I wrapped my arms around myself, searching for warmth I couldn't find, burying my face into my knees like it could somehow block the memories.

Why didn't I see it?
Why didn't I notice how hurt Changbin was?

After a while, I dragged myself out, barely drying off before throwing on a shirt and lying back down on my bed. I skipped dinner. I told the others I wasn't feeling well—because honestly, how could I even explain this?

The room was quiet, too quiet. I stared into the shadows on the ceiling as if they might answer the questions in my mind.

Did Woojin ever really care about me?
How long had he been lying?
What does that say about me—for never seeing it?

I picked up my phone with trembling fingers and typed a message to Woojin.

"Can we talk?"

No reply. I stared at the screen until it dimmed. My heart sank even deeper.

The silence hurt more than any answer could.

I curled up under the covers, but sleep never came. I just lay there, thoughts racing, pain swelling in my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Changbin's face—his eyes, red and tired; his voice, cracking like glass.

He carried all of that alone.

And I wasn't there.