Guts (EXO)

Guilt

The mirrored walls gave away her supposed to be surprise entrance. Even with just opening it a little bit, it was clearly noticeable from every corner of the room. Shaking her head, she stepped inside completely. She was probably found out, anyway.

In the center of the room, Yixing moved effortlessly to the beat. She wasn't sure if he didn't notice her or if he just chose to ignore her.

Hyerin stood there for a while, maybe for as long as ten minutes. It took about three songs for him to finally stop dancing, but even then, he wasn't sparing her a glance. Irritated, she scratched the back of her head and called out to him.

"Lay."

He took a water bottle from the wooden floor, gulping down its contents.

She huffed, folding her arms and leaning against the wall. "Lay."

He walked over to the stereo and detached his iPod from the auxiliary chord connected to the stereo.

Hyerin glared at his back. "Zhang Yixing."

With that, he turned around, giving her an unsurprisingly empty look. "What do you want, Hyerin?"

She rolled her eyes. She wasn't expecting Lay to welcome her with pure joy or with a warm hug, but she definitely thought he would give her more than a cold remark. They were childhood friends after all. And really, that was it—their friendship was left behind in their elementary days. They drifted apart a year before their first year in middle school, mainly because she was more invested in her training and he started to take a liking to dancing. It was a natural separation, though that didn't mean it ended on a good note. There was a reason they weren't speaking to each other anymore.

Even though they were practically strangers now, she couldn't help but be surprised the moment she saw his profile in the manila envelope. The first time she went through all the boys, she never recognized him—he was all sharp features and cut lines now.

Hyerin scoffed. "Nice to see you, too, Lay. Very warm."

The boy turned back to fixing his things. "Right. We were somehow associated with each other at one point," he said. "I wonder how that happened."

She frowned. "Since when did you turn into an asshole?"

"Since the beginning." He zipped his bag before slowly heading towards where she was standing. "Now what is it? I need to go."

"God, if you don't want to talk to me that much at least try to conceal it with that pretty boy smile of yours or something. What the hell?" She glared. "Look, I'll just make this quick."

He raised a brow, standing in a sluggish way that made Hyerin want to kick him in the shin.

"I'm in a desperate need of a job. I heard your family restaurant's not that far from here. I figured I could apply."

Lay merely gave her a look of disinterest. "We're not hiring," he simply said before walking past her and towards the door. There it was again – people pushing her away.

"Lay!" she called. "I don't know why you hate me so much, but this doesn't have anything to do with you, okay? If you don't want me to talk to you when I get that job, then fine. Just please help a frie–a former acquaintance out," she pleaded, standing in front of him to block his way.

Lay stared at her for a good ten seconds, eyes roaming around her face.

"So what do you think?"

"What happened to that?" he asked in a monotone voice.

She looked at him quizzically. "To what?"

"To that," he said, poking her hard on the cheek.

She winced in pain and swatted his hand away. He was referring to her big nasty bruise. The gesture gave her an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, back to when they were kids when they would roughhouse. "Nothing. It wasn't necessary to poke it, you know," she scoffed. "Are you going to help me out or not? I really need this badly."