Stuffing a handful of popped kernels into his mouth, Changjo chewed on them swiftly as he grinned, a smile reaching his eyes whilst glancing at Junhong from time to time. Niel was leaned back in the comfortable navy blue beanbag in front of the switched-off television set in his bedroom, running his slim notes through his light-brown hair which fell to his forehead as a fringe.
Noticing how Jonghyun was wolfing on the snack, L.Joe smacked his arm, snatching the bowl away from him as he too, tossed a few into his mouth before passing it over to the guest. “Manners, Jonghyun,” he had scolded with a click of his tongue. He rolled his eyes in answer, what he said passing over his head.
“So, uh.” It was ridiculous how awkward Junhong was being, just sitting there, his nails being bitten off little by little, his eyes glued to the floor, platinum hair covering part of the side of his face from the angle Changjo was sitting cross-legged in. “Um... How was your old school? Mokpo?” Niel started, his voice more annoyingly nasally than usual.
His shoulders straightened up a bit while rubbing his chin as he thought of a response (or so it seemed.) “Well,” Junhong began, turning to look at the elder, his big brown eyes glistening. “Mokpo was...home, since I was born there, of course.” Chuckling once, he added, “My old school was alright. Had to deal with a ton of bullshit though.”
The younger of his posse sat up, his gaze stern, “What kind of bullshit?”
“You know,” he shrugged. “People voting for the biggest Drag Queens of them all as their Class Representatives, ignoring the students who actually deserve it. Being judged, misunderstood...” a shaky sigh escaped his throat. Changjo knew how he felt. The happening was actually common for him, and he was used to it. Of course, he had grown tired. Lest, he was yet to do anything.
“It's alright,” the boy responded simply. “They're like that, the world. When they're aware of the fact that a person's smart, they'd do anything to trample him over, 'yanno? Like, they can't bare to see him succeed. That's just how it's supposed to work. Mr. Y tells us to forgive and forget. It's only for the best.”
“Yeah... I suppose you're right.”
At that very moment, a soft melody played, a treat for their ears. It was Changjo's phone.
“Yah, what song is that?”
“None of your business, bub,” he answered the skinny boy with the poor posture over his soft mattress. “Geez, somebody needs anger management.”
Changjo pressed the green ‘receive call’ icon on his phone and held it to his ear. His eyes found themselves wandering around before at last, sticking to almost nothing at all. “Hello?”
“Yeah, hi.”
He groaned. “What the Hell do you want?”
“You.”
“Shuddup, smartass. Just tell me.”
“Listen to me. That Junhong kid is bad news. Tr—”
But before he could complete his statement, he was hung up on, the phone kept to silent and tossed away before anyone could say another word.
----------
“I'm serious!”
Chanhee ran up to Changjo, their shoulders colliding with each other in the process. “Not the time,” the latter growled, his thumb under a strap of his backpack as he crossed the hall to get to his next class. “But Changjo,” he replied, his voice a plead. “You have to trust in me. Please...”
“Trusting people who don't trust you is foolishness,” he spoke. “And I'm not foolish. So leave me alone, you pinhead. Get out of my sight.”
With those words, Changjo left a devastated boy behind, staring at him...gaping...
------
The cool breeze contrasted with the warmth which radiated from the coffee mug between his palms. It was soothing. He looked down at it, his eyes focused on the small bubbles which formed on the foamy surface, “I'm so glad we could finally meet.” A small, sincere smile raised the edges of his plump lips upwards, “Really.”
With a soft “It was nothing,” Junhong adjusted the mask he wore on his face so it was covering part of it. “You know,” Jonghyun began, deeply exhaling before. “I can barely hear you with that thing on your face. And you didn't order anything either. Why?”
Impatient as he received silence, the boy took a large gulp of his coffee, the drink gliding down his throat, inflaming it along the way. It was painful, yes, but he liked the feeling. “Take it off,” he calmly included.
“What?”
“Take. It. Off.”
A shake of his head was only enough to trigger the adrenaline which began coursing through the other's veins, and before he knew it, he was approached, both of Changjo's hands clasped to his shoulders. A deep blush discolored the younger's cheeks which made him thank the Lord he was covering it. God, that would have been embarrassing!
“I'll just do it for you then.”
People began staring at the boy who was squirming within the other's hold, an occasional whine leaving his throat to which he mentally slapped himself. Changjo was exhausted of the drama so he just reached for his mask and simply slipped it off. The other was such a bother, but he was weak also. Times like these made Changjo appreciate himself for the amount of exercise he did...occasionally.
At the sight, his jaw fell ajar. “Who the Hell did that to you?! I'll pulverize them!”
Prying his fingers over the other's mouth, he begged him to keep his mouth shut. What Changjo saw was, a swollen bottom lip which could only have been caused by a fist to it. “Nobody did. Now shut up, Changjo. It's nothing,” he whisper-screamed. Slapping his wrist away, Jonghyun swiftly shook his head in refusal, “Someone hurt you. Was it that poser, Chunji?”
“No.”
“Then? Who was it? Tell me! I don't have all day!” with his arms in the air as he began to flail them like a mad person, the latter grabbed them and held them at his sides, standing up. “Calm down,” he composedly ordered. “I'll only tell you if you calm down.”
A slow expire was what the other could do, his palms running over his face in frustration and anxiety, “I'm calm.”
“It was...”
Junhong looked at the other, his hold tightening, “Niel.”
