This Friend | Yeonbin

34

Soobin P.O.V

I drive to Yeonjun place, and I’m freaking pissed.

At Dad. And my stupid life. And the fact that it’s so unfair that my first real friend is completely off-limits. It’s making me want to speed, or hit my steering wheel, or just pull over and scream until I’ve gotten everything in my chest out.

But that isn’t what I really want.

What I want is to not even have to think about this.

I wish Yeonjun and I were ordinary guys.

If that were the case, we could just hang out at each other’s places, and it wouldn’t be weird. It’d maybe be awkward to transition into something more romantic, but it’d be cute awkward.

Rom-com awkward. Our parents might even be nosy, and get too involved, and it’d be a little embarrassing, but I’d secretly love it.

I want a Love, Simon life, basically. Not this. Not a dad who I frustrate. And a boy I can never truly have because of our last names.

or... I'm not even going to say it

I reach place and park out front.

This is the Choi house.

I shouldn’t be here.

I step out of the car and walk up to the front door. The air is still, and I can hear chirping crickets. I love this sound. I reach his porch and pause. Time to do this. For some reason knocking makes me anxious, so I message him that I’m here.

A few moments later, the door opens.

“Hey there,” he says, tilting his head up. “You look great.”

So does he. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with a Poké Ball on it and gym shorts. His feet are covered in black ankle socks, and his hair is a little limp, not pushed up like it normally is.

I realize this is Yeonjun when he hasn’t put any work in.

He’s gorgeous.

I feel lucky that I get to see this. Him, with his walls down. He beckons me inside and closes the door behind me.

Then we hug. I sink into it.

I can’t tell him about what happened with Dad, so I just try to get as much out of the hug as I can.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“I’m just picking up a vibe that something’s happened. Want to talk about it?”

I chew my lip.

And decide to test him.

“Um, my dad’s been kind of mean lately.”

His eyes widen. “Oh. Right. Well, I mean, you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” He rubs my arm. “Whatever he did, I’m sorry.”

And he passes with flying colours.

I sigh. “No, I can talk about it. He told me I frustrate him sometimes. I know that’s not much, but like I don’t want to frustrate him. He’s my dad, you know?”

“I completely get it. I’m sorry. But I’d bet he’d be really upset if he found out he’d hurt your feelings. I know my dad says hurtful stuff all the time, and I don’t think he has any idea he’s doing it. I think it’s just a dad thing, you shouldn’t take it personally.”

I like the thought of that.

“That was the perfect thing to make me feel better,” I say. “And you just, like, knew it.”