Being in class without Yeosang is the fucking worst – especially in modern dance and Choreographies where I don't know anyone else yet. Out of habit, I start checking out some of the guys as we warm up, waiting for Mrs Park to come out of her office.
Most of the guys here don't seem to be my type – although, thinking about it, I also couldn't pinpoint what exactly my type is. In high school and at my old uni I didn't have any kind of pattern. I just hooked up with guys that had piqued my interest, were handsome, and interested enough in hooking up with me too.
So basically... quite a bunch of people.
There's a cute guy now. He seems to be busy doing his warm-up at the other side of the room, but I catch him looking at me twice.
Okay - maybe I'm shit at making friends. But at least I'm pretty good at finding people to hook up with. That does count as social skills, right?
When the cute guy looks my way a third time I send him a smirk, and he averts his gaze quickly, blushing.
A bit predictable. Still cute though.
Probably I am kind of a sucker for blonde guys, now that I'm coming to think of it. A lot of my hookups in Busan were blonde. Yeosang is blonde – not that I see him as anything more than a friend now- But still. And the blushing guy who's doing his warm-up exercises for dance has got blonde hair too. It's a light blonde and parted in the middle, partly falling over his forehead. It looks good on him like that.
Leaning against the wall behind me, I start checking him out a bit.
Like many dancers, he's got a great physique... and, judging from the stretching he's doing right now, he's also quite flexible. This is gonna be good. I could probably watch him for at least half an hour, but I decide that now's not the time for that.
So instead of just smirking when I lock eyes with him once more, I beckon him to come over. And when he does, getting up within a matter of seconds and making his way over to me, I can feel the depressing loneliness on my shoulders lighten a considerable bit.
San timidly turns his key in the door's lock. He doesn't really want to cross paths with Yeosang right now – oh, scratch the really, he definitely doesn't want to cross paths with Yeosang right now. And also not tomorrow, if it's possible to avoid him for that long.- They are still flatmates after all.
Tiptoeing into their flat, San places his Converse next to his door and makes a beeline for the fridge. It's well past seven already, and he's feeling hungry and exhausted after spending close to nine hours at uni-
San freezes when he hears an unidentifiable sound traveling through their thin walls. It sounded almost like a hiccup. So Yeosang is in his room and- oh shit, that wasn't a hiccup, because San hears it again, and this time he can tell what it is. Yeosang is crying.
No. No, no, no. This isn't San's fault, is it?
Is it?
Standing in front of their fridge, San silently debates on what to do: knocking on Yeosang's door to comfort him? Or ignoring the quiet sniffling?
Both options sound terrible. The first one would be way too inconsiderate – it's just been a few hours ago that San had to tell Yeosang that he has no romantic interest in him. The second option would be way worse though. Yeosang was San's friend after all – and, for God's sake, he still is, it's not like their friendship just died today or anything... right?
The doorbell interrupts San's thoughts – thankfully, because San isn't sure how much longer he would've stood in the kitchen, just contemplating on what to do and what not.
It's Wooyoung standing on the doormat, looking exhausted, with messy hair, swollen lips-
Wait, what? San blinks.
Oh, well, whatever.
"Hi." San steps aside to let Wooyoung in. He's probably there for Yeosang. "You've had uni till now, too?"
"Hi. Yeah..." Wooyoung trails off. "Kinda. Here is 34A and B, right? Is Yeosang- oh, hi Yeosang."
San whirls around. There is Yeosang, leaning in the door frame to the kitchen. If San hadn't just heard him crying a minute ago, he would've thought that Yeosang has taken a nap: his hair is tousled, and he's rubbing his eyes sleepily. Luckily, though, there are no tear stains visible on his face - which means that San can just pretend he's never heard him crying in the first place.
Crying because of him. Maybe that makes him a coward, but San feels relieved that he can pretend not to know. He's familiar with how to do that, he's done it often enough already: by now, he's become a pro in appearing clueless.
But besides the comfortable pretending-not-to-know, San also feels increasingly awkward between Yeosang and Wooyoung – so he quickly retreats, excusing himself: "I'm going back to my room, bye!"
Once he's closed his room's door behind him, San relaxes. I'm not gonna go out there again any time soon.
Right then, his stomach starts to rumble.
Yeosang beckons me inside. "Come on in. And maybe don't put your shoes in front of the door. Seonghwa did it once, and they'd disappeared by the time he wanted to go home."
"Okay." I try laughing a bit. It sounds unnatural. "Sure." Although it's not like anyone would steal my shoes anyway – they're almost falling apart because I don't want to get dirt on the new ones I've bought a month ago, which are still lying in their shoe box, untouched and pretty to look at.
When I've placed my shoes under the coatrack, I straighten up again to take a first look at Yeosang's and San's flat. I can't believe how bare it is. It doesn't even look like they've lived in here for a month, let alone a year.
If I'd live in a flat like that, it would only take me days to spread my stuff everywhere – although I sure as hell wouldn't decorate either.
The sofa in their kitchen adds a nice touch though. I'm just about to ask Yeosang if he and San really carried this thing up the two stairs with their turns... but I shut up once I get a closer look at Yeosang's face: he looks downright miserable. And I've been standing in their corridor, admiring their fucking sofa.
What a great friend I am.
"So..." I clear my throat. "Let's go to your room?" He probably isn't too keen on bumping into San anytime soon.
Yeosang just nods. "Come on." He leads me through the kitchen and to another door, kicking it open and plopping down on the bed in the room immediately after.
I close the door behind me. "Okay, um, so..."
What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to talk to Yeosang about how heartbroken he must feel right now? - Yeah, right, putting salt in an open wound. That'll definitely make him feel better.
Should I tell him that San's not worth it - whatever it is - if he can't see what a great person Yeosang is? - Feels wrong too. They've been friends, so obviously San knows that Yeosang's a great guy. Just... in a platonic way. For San, anyway.
I decide on pretending that everything is fine – and maybe that will make everything fine in some magical way.
"Okay, so, the choreography in modern dance: we have to dance to this weird mashup that Mrs Park now decided on... it starts with some classical piano and then goes over to something R&B-like-"
Yeosang snorts. It almost sounds like a laugh, which makes me hope that my pretending-everything's-alright decision might be a good way to go.
"We're supposed to start on the ground like some kind of still-life- Honestly, I have no idea why I chose this course." I groan.
"Sounds experimental", Yeosang remarks matter-of-factly.
"It is." I shake my head. "And this dance training was supposed to have top ratings of all the dance trainings offered by other academies in the whole country?! I don't get it."
A grin crosses Yeosang's face, which makes me also grin immediately, impossibly glad that I managed to lighten his mood a little bit. "Well, it's modern dance, Wooyoung. Of course it's unusual." He snickers a bit.
"Fuck you and your impolite attitude." I glare at him.
"I'm not impolite", he tells me, and I get the serious impression that making fun of other people makes him happier. "It's called being honest."
"Then don't be so damn honest all the time."
Yeosang closes his mouth that he had already opened, probably for another snarky reply, and sighs. "Okay then. Can you show me the choreo?"
"Yep." I quickly get up from his desk chair. "Pay attention. So, we start like this..."
Yeosang hums quietly every now and then to show that he's following, and he tries copying some of my movements.
"That's it", I finish after going through everything we have worked on so far for the second time, "have you got it?"
"I think so." Yeosang is staring off into space now – he's kind of looking at his wardrobe, but also not really. Then he sits up abruptly. "I'm moving out."
I blink. "You're what?"
"I'm moving out", he repeats stubbornly. "This is embarrassing. I can't even look San in the eye anymore. I'm moving out."
"Um... sure it's uncomfortable now, but-"
"Have you ever been friend-zoned by someone you've fallen in love with, Wooyoung?", Yeosang interrupts me.
"No." I've never fallen in love at all – and I'm really grateful that it spared me the risk of experiencing the unrequited kind. It seems to be quite hurtful.
Yeosang only nods. "I thought so."
"Where would you go anyways – if you were moving out?", I want to know. "You'll need some time to figure that out, and you also need t-"
"Seonghwa's", Yeosang cuts in without letting me finish. "He offered me to live with him once, when I told him I wanted to move out of my family's house to be closer to uni. I'm pretty sure that the offer still stands."
"But... wait." I feel like I've missed a point here. "What about Hongjoong? Wouldn't he be the first one Seonghwa would live with if they've got the chance...?"
"Hongjoong's got a studio to himself." Yeosang frowns. "I guess he would come over quite a lot, so I could spend a lot of time third-wheeling in my own flat-"
"You're not seriously considering this."
"I am. Watch me." Yeosang unlocks his phone, dials a number, then holds the phone to his ear. Humming to himself, he waits. "... Seonghwa? Hi. ... Your offer of moving in with you – does it still stand?" Another pause.
"Oh." Yeosang looks down, clearly disappointed. In the next second, however, he jumps up: "Really?! ... I love you, Seonghwa! ... Yeah, I know, I don't care! I just wanna get out of here... you know. ... Yes, I am sure, thanks for asking, Mom." He rolls his eyes. "As soon as you've got time. ... Fine. Fine, I will. See you tomorrow. Bye!"
Lowering his phone, he grins at me triumphantly. "Guess what Seonghwa just said?"
"You're too emotional right now", I tell him. "This is a stupid idea."
"For God's sake, Wooyoung, fall in love once and get rejected! I wonder if you'll still tell me that it's a stupid idea then", Yeosang bursts out.
Okay, I've never been there emotionally – so what? I'm really glad that I'm still able to think rationally.
Unlike Yeosang.
"Did Seonghwa at least tell you to sleep over it?"
"He did, yeah." Yeosang shrugs. "I'm sure though. But if it calms you down, yes, he agreed to not help me move out before the weekend."
"'Not before the weekend.'" I scoff. This is so stupid.
"I don't need your opinion on this. Just let me do what I think is right." Yeosang crosses his arms. Since I really don't wanna fight with him, no matter about what, I give in: "Okay. Do it then. Do whatever makes you happy." I lace my tone with extra sarcasm, but Yeosang doesn't point that out.
"Can you show me our choreo one more time?", he says instead. Maybe that's his own way of asking if we can stop arguing.
"Sure." I get up again.
"Buut", Yeosang holds me back at my sleeve, "the normal version this time? The way that everybody else does it?"
Okay, maybe he just wants to argue about something different.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"That means without all the extra-sexy gestures. Just the plain moves. Not the way you dance..." Yeosang snickers.
I blush, knowing exactly what he means. "So what? People like it. I like it."
"I know. I've noticed. I'm not saying it looks bad, but...", Yeosang tilts his head. "Anyone in particular you wanna impress by dancing like that?"
Oh, if you only knew... "No one. I don't need to make an effort to impress guy- ah, people, I mean."
Yeosang bursts out laughing. "Sure you don't. I've noticed some people watching you last week."
"Oh, really?", I reply absentmindedly. And one of them was probably Jimin, the blonde cute guy with the hottest kissing skills-