There is written anxiety/an onset anxiety attack within this chapter, as well as mentions relating to verbal abuse from parents in the chapter. Please do not read any further if these topics are sensitive to you.
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After warming his food, Wooyoung finds himself isolating back within the depth of his room. The talk with San had gone far worse than he pictured, though, he was nearly positive that this would be the outcome. He felt like he wanted to cry, but he swallowed his tears, sucking all of his emotions up, unwilling to break over something, or someone, so meaningless.
Wooyoung sits down in the middle of his bed, reaching for his remote, turning on his television to hopefully distract away from the chaos unfolding within his mind. There was too much to think about, and Wooyoung finds himself unwilling to feel anything his heart was yearning to understand.
Halfway through the show he was watching, his phone begins to ring.
"Seonghwa," Wooyoung hums, holding the phone to his ear. "I didn't expect you to call me so late."
"It's barely eleven, Woo." Seonghwa laughs. "Anyway, I was curious about your talk with San. You never texted me or anything, so I've been a bit worried."
"It didn't go great." Wooyoung sighs, his free hand reaching to mess with his comforter. "We argued."
"Wooyoung."
"Listen! I genuinely feel like I tried, but. . . I said something stupid and he took it the wrong way, and now we're at odds again. I shouldn't have even said anything, to be honest. Things were better before I opened my stupid ass mouth."
"I know it seems that way, but at least he knows that you tried. Effort from both parties makes it apparent to whoever looks in from the outside that both people want to try and get along, and to me, that's kind of what it seems like."
"I don't necessarily want to just get along, I don't think." Wooyoung frowns, pulling at the stitching on his blanket. "There's more to it."
"Tell me."
"It's. . . complicated. I can't."
Seonghwa sighs, and Wooyoung immediately knew that his friend was slightly annoyed by his unwillingness to be completely honest. Wooyoung couldn't explain anything about Sun-hee, mainly because no one else was to know. San and Wooyoung came to the agreement that the only people who could know about Sun-hee were the three of them themselves. Any outsider who knew could be a risk to their entire lie, causing it to break apart at the seams. Wooyoung never wanted to lie to his friends, let alone refuse to explain anything that was bothering him, but there was a line he couldn't cross, and Sun-hee would have to remain their secret.
"I can't help you if you don't explain."
"There's a lot of. . . discrepancies at play here, Hwa. It's more than just me and San. I can't say anything."
"Okay. I won't press any further–" Seonghwa sighs again, and Wooyoung breathes quietly in relief. "But the moment that shit starts to fall apart, I don't care what you can and can't tell me. You better let me in, Wooyoung. I know you. I know how you are. You don't have to handle this shit alone."
"Hwa–"
"No. I'm serious. I don't care about your contracts. I don't care about San's feelings. I care about you, and only you in any of this. I don't want to see you revert from all of the progress you made. So I'm telling you now, that if any of this gets worse, you are going to tell me everything."
"Fine, fine." Wooyoung gives in easily, rolling his eyes. It surely couldn't get worse, so Seonghwa had nothing to worry about. Surely.
"I love you, you idiot. You're my best friend, okay? Yeosang would say the same thing in his own evil, shithead way."
"I know. I love you too, Hwa."
After another few minutes of bickering and talking, the call eventually ends. Wooyoung sinks into the comfort of his mattress, pressing his head down into his cold pillow, phone dejectedly laying down next to him. He's confused, still. He feels like his heart is being led astray while his mind turns to ruins.
He just hoped that when he woke, all of the anger would fall away with the setting of the moon.
The morning comes, and Wooyoung wakes up late. His phone had rung several times by Yeosang calling him, texting him even more frequently than he had called. Wooyoung rushes out of bed after briefly looking at the amount of missed pings on his phone, hopping into the shower to quickly rinse himself off, then simultaneously texting Yeosang back as he tries to dry his hair.
Yeosang
Wooyoungie!
Your mom needs you and San here in the next forty-five minutes.
Are you awake??
Wooyoung!
4 Missed Calls from Yeosang
Yeosang
Wooyoung.
She is getting upset.
Please tell me you didn't oversleep.
Oh my fuck, I am so sorry, Yeo.
I hopped out of the shower just now, I just have to dry my hair.
We can be on the way in ten minutes.
Yeosang
Your mother postponed the media appearance by another hour.
You're lucky that San's father is also running a bit behind.
Please be more careful! She's really upset. :(
I know, I know. I don't mean to get you in trouble.
I promise we're on the way soon.
Oh, shit. Btw, what am I wearing?
Yeosang
I have a suit for you here. There's a stylist here waiting for you and San. Just wear something comfortable so that you can change into that easily when we're done.
Easy enough. Thank you. See you soon.
Wooyoung quickly dries his hair until it's no longer soaking wet, then he grabs his phone and his bag after changing into joggers and a tee, rushing out into the living space. San was presumably waiting for him, leaning against the island counter, gaze glued to his phone.
"Ready?" Wooyoung asks quietly, slinging his bag over his shoulders.
"Yeah." San affirms, turning off his phone and shoving it into his pocket. "My father warned me that the media is everywhere outside of the complex. Ready to play pretend?"
"Yeah, yeah. We'll be fine." Wooyoung assures as they head out of their front door, locking it shut, and proceeding towards the elevator.
For whatever reason, the air around them didn't feel cold, or resentful. It seemed awfully similar to how most mornings usually were, save for an argument that leaves one in tears and the other fuming. Wooyoung doesn't bother to question it, but he's fully aware of how annoyed San might still be.
"I heard that you're speaking today." Wooyoung starts quietly, trying to gauge San's mood for the day.
"Mm, yeah. My father asked me to." San responds calmly. Wooyoung takes a moment to relax, hearing the softness stowed in San's tone alone sent a wave of relief to soak into his pores.
"Are you nervous?"
"No, I don't think so." San holds his hand out as the elevator reaches the bottom floor, seemingly unphased and emotionless. Wooyoung glances at his held out hand, taking it nervously, lacing their fingers together as if this all meant nothing to him. Little did he know, it meant more to him than he began to realize.
Of course, as soon as they exit the building, tens of media personnel sit waiting, cameras ready, all surrounding their blacked-out SUV, hoping for an opportunity at talking to the beloved future CEOs before the event itself. Wooyoung keeps his gaze down, head low, hoping to avoid making nervous eye contact with the overbearing media persons, but he squeezes San's hand wordlessly, and San leads him out of the complex.
Voices and shouts ring out throughout the outdoor space, catching Wooyoung slightly off-guard, but he continues forward. The driver opens their door, ushering them inside with quiet phrases that Wooyoung barely hears, settling inside with a shaky breath. San follows him inside, and both males relax once the door slams shut behind them.
Wooyoung was still clinging to San's hand, squeezing it rather, an unusual tightness clouding over his chest as he rested inside, eyes tightly shut to avoid looking at the media people staring at the window next to where he sits.
San glances at Wooyoung, raising a brow, but not moving to let go of his hand.
The driver settles inside, carefully driving away.
"You alright?" San asks lowly, gaze unwavering as he watches Wooyoung slowly peel his eyes open. Wooyoung takes another breath, staring at his lap while nodding.
"Think so." Wooyoung bites the inside of his cheek. "I have a lot of anxiety right now, and I'm not sure why. I'm not usually so nervous about shit like this."
Wooyoung turns to glance at San, but his eyes graze over their hands, heart nearly stuttering when he realizes that San was still holding onto him. "I-"
"You've always been a little nervous about this kind of thing. I can tell that the walk to and from the car has always stressed you out."
"I mean, yeah, I get the usual nerves from it, but this is. . . stronger. It's nearly uncomfortable."
"Are you gonna be okay doing all of this?"
"I have to be." Wooyoung starts to let go of San's hand, unsure of why they were still clinging together in the first place. But, San persists. Wooyoung's brows furrow, glancing down at their hands again, biting his tongue.
Should I say something? Why is he yelling at me about his girlfriend one night and acting completely fine the next? What does any of this mean to him anyway?
"You don't have to be. But if you're sure you're fine, then I won't press you."
Wooyoung isn't sure if he should be thanking San or arguing with him, or. . . what, but he's beyond perplexed. He wants to like San, he really does. But with everything that's happening, it began to send his heart even more astray than it ever has been before. San's tone was soft, the hold on his hand even softer for that matter, but his presence right now in the midst of this sudden onset anxiety was incredibly comforting. Wooyoung is incredibly confused, so he mutters the only thing that feels natural.
"We need to talk when we get home."
San meets his gaze and nods. "Yeah. Let's."
The rest of the ride is quiet, and eventually San lets go of Wooyoung's hand. Wooyoung doesn't question it, nor mention it, trying to bury his focus into texting Seonghwa before he has to live through an uncomfortable hour with his parents.
Seonghwa
Why didn't you pull away?
I don't know?!
It seemed inappropriate!
Seonghwa
So the dude yells at you, for one reason or another, and holds your hand the next day?
Yup. What am I supposed to do?
Seonghwa
Seriously talk to him.
And don't argue this time.
I planned on it. I'll call you after, Hwa.
Seonghwa
You better.
Let me know if you need me sooner. I can always come over later.
The car arrives at the front of the Jung Technologies building. Wooyoung can see the cameras flashing beyond the privacy windows, and he sighs. San glances at him for a moment before exiting the car, waiting by the door as he holds his hand out again. Wooyoung doesn't think too much into it, lacing their fingers as he exits the SUV, walking in tandem with San as they head towards the main doors. This time, San squeezes his hand, and it's only then that Wooyoung realizes that he was doing his best to reassure him without using words.
An elevator ride later, Wooyoung and San head separate ways, Wooyoung striding towards his mother's office, per usual. He opens the large glass door, glancing to see his mother sat at her desk, an unamused scowl faded across her expression.
"You're late."
"I know, I'm sorry. It was a rough night last night and I forgot my alarm–"
"You cannot behave like this when you're about to be a CEO of this company. Are you aware of how bad this looks for us? Do you have any decency?"
"I know it looks bad, mom–"
"No. It's an embarrassment to sit in front of the press to delay for another hour when not only her business partner is running late, but her own son is too. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you. You made a mistake, so fix it. Be better prepared." His mother folds her arms against her chest after adjusting her glasses, still frowning disappointingly. "Go get changed. I'm done talking to you."
Wooyoung nods, turning on his heel to head towards the common space, swallowing all of the feelings rushing through his mind at once.
His parents had always been hard on him, regardless of his current situation. They expected good marks, good decisions, good habits and good manners, all of which Wooyoung had tried his hardest to achieve. He knew what was expected of him, and he always did his best to grant his parent's wishes, but he could never compare to Beomgyu.
He finished schooling with good marks, but marks that were never good enough. Beomgyu was incredibly smart, scholarly even, and their parents had never been more proud. He was the top student of his class, receiving a diploma of sorts to merit his efforts while in school. Their parents had framed the award and hung it somewhere in their lavish home for all to see, where all of Wooyoung's awards were stowed away in storage, seemingly meaningless compared to that of Beomgyu's. He knew he was their second choice, but being the eldest son, all he could want is his parent's approval, even if it cost him everything that he himself wanted; even if it meant agreeing to marry someone he hardly knew.
"Ah, you're here!" Yeosang smiles, unaware of the conversation Wooyoung had just braved with his mother. "Your suit is here–"
Yeosang heads towards the rack, pulling free an all black suit with a black button-up, graciously paired with black shoes and the peak of a silver chain. "Seonghwa picked it out for you. He knows how you like darker clothing."
"Thank you." Wooyoung half-smiles, reaching to take the clothes from Yeosang.
"Hey," Yeosang finally really looks at Wooyoung, and Wooyoung glances away. "Is everything alright?"
"It has to be. My feelings don't mean anything right now. I'll tell you later."
"Sure. Only if you want to, Woo. Go change, yeah? I'll call the stylist so she can do your hair."
Wooyoung nods and trudges off, heading towards the restrooms.
His chest felt heavy, like a pound of bricks had been settled over him, weighing him down and feeling impossible to remove. There were too many conflicting emotions, too many thoughts and feelings to even sit down and try to think into any of it. He was angry, upset, confused, shameful, and maybe even lonely. He felt incredibly dejected, that he knew at least. But he can't break; not now, not yet. He could save that for the safety of his room, when he's alone and in the dark, safe away from prying eyes. No one needed to see him like this, not when he's worked so hard to keep himself from breaking in half again.
An agonizing twenty minutes later, Wooyoung had finally been released from the stylist's chair. He now stands looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his suit and fixing specific strands of his hair, biting the inside of his cheek. He has too many emotions stored in the back of his mind, too many that were too loud and hard to ignore, yet he does, only because of his parents. He knew that if he cracked under the pressure of all of this, he'd never hear the end of it.
Beomgyu wouldn't have cried like such a bitch.
Beomgyu would've handled everything better.
Maybe San would like Beomgyu better.
If only you weren't such a mistake.
If only you had listened to us instead of listening to yourself.
You're immature and a fucking disappointment.
Wooyoung takes a sharp breath inwards, staring at himself in the mirror before his gaze drops away. It's only then that he realizes that his cheeks were wet with tears, watching as tears fall down onto the floor ahead of him. Shit.
He had to pull himself together. He couldn't be seen like this. His parents would surely let him have an earful, if not more, and he'd pay the price for not only being late but being such a crybaby. He's gotta stop crying, stop being so selfish, he's gotta–
"Hey." A voice breaks through his mental barrier and he quickly tilts his head back upwards, hand reaching up with haste to wipe away the streaks of tears.
"Hey, sorry. Is it our cue?" Wooyoung turns to face San, unaware of how long the male had been standing there.
"In a minute, yeah." San looks like he wants to say something, but Wooyoung can tell that he's refraining from doing so. Wooyoung takes a nervous breath, smoothing out his suit jacket before walking forwards, standing a few inches away from San. Up close, Wooyoung could tell that San was deep in thought about something, but he couldn't gauge as to what. His suit was impeccably tailored, freshly dry-cleaned, hair styled in a way that accentuates the sharpness of his jawline and eyes. If Wooyoung hadn't been stuck in such an arrangement with San and had met the elder in a bar, he would've pounced on him without a thought. How one could be so obnoxiously attractive yet such a prick was beyond Wooyoung's knowledge.
"Let's go then, hm?" Wooyoung half-smiles, hoping to rid any tension left settled between them. To his surprise, San smiles back warmly and laces their fingers together.
Hand in hand, they stride to the elevator and ride down, meeting their parents in the lobby. Wooyoung's mother smiles at him when she notices their intimate contact, and something inside of Wooyoung hopes that she's proud of him, at least for a moment.
"Okay, let's get this show on the road, hm?" Wooyoung's father announces, clapping his hands together with a large smile. San's parents nod and hum something in agreement, leading the way as they stride out of the main doors and towards the newly built plaza-like stage. Wooyoung knew that there was a mass of people waiting for them, all situated with cameras and cell phones pointed, waiting to ask a million questions to pry out of the two large companies and their holders.
Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, struggling to step outside as he follows behind his own parents, but San squeezes his hand and pulls him forward. Wooyoung glances at him, a sudden uneasiness brewing away in his gut. Something felt wrong about all of this, but he couldn't place as to what.
As they step onto the stage, Wooyoung and San find their familiar place in the back, sitting down on their respective seats to the left of the podium. Wooyoung's parents settle down beside him, two empty seats left at the far end for San's parents.
"Welcome, everyone. Thank you for joining us for this press release." San's father, Eun, starts. "I greatly encourage you to ask many questions about the merge of Jung Technologies and Eun Media, as we will do our best to discuss our future."
Wooyoung's mind goes blank. The words fizzle out, his eyes blankly staring out ahead of him, completely succumbing to the feeling of familiar anxiety that he spent the better half of a year avoiding. Today was too much, he'd be the first to acknowledge that. Between fighting with San, arguing with his mother, holding onto San's hand in the car when he was on the verge of losing himself; everything felt incredibly overwhelming.
He'd do anything to be able to leave right now, hiding away in his room under his covers, holding himself and knowing that he'd be nothing except a disappointment to his family. He could handle that, at least for a little bit, realizing that eventually he would have to deal with the feelings associated with his neglectful parents.
He's spent enough time avoiding an onslaught of verbal abuse from his parents on a day-to-day basis, but after today, he's really not sure if he can continue to avoid any of it. Thankfully, San was the one speaking today and all he had to do was sit here and clap after every closing statement with a smile on his face, praying that no one notices how disassociated he truly was.
"–And now, I'll bring up the future CEO of Jung Technologies, Jung Wooyoung, to come and say a few words."
Wooyoung's heart thumps away in his throat. What? The fuck?
Wooyoung's eyes widen a fraction, blinking back to reality as he takes a breath and rises from his seat with the fakest smile he can manage, walking to the podium as Eun walks away and heads to his own seat. He truly has no idea what was said and hasn't been said, having missed the entire opening statement thanks to his unwavering anxiety. So he settles for the easiest course of action, wrapping his hands around the edges of the podium to ground himself.
"Thank you, Mr. Choi. It's an honor to be here, and to be speaking on behalf of the companies today. Feel free to ask any questions you'd like, in reference to the future of Jung Technologies or–" Wooyoung cuts himself off, spotting multiple reporters raising their hands nearly immediately. "Okay, yes. Go ahead."
A woman near the front, with long blonde hair and black-framed glasses, speaks first, smiling as she does so. "Tell us about being in a relationship with Choi San. What is it like?"
Wooyoung takes a breath, smiling back. "He's wonderful, and very respectful, just like his father."
A short answer would suffice, surely. But, more reporters raise their hands to his dismay.
"Go ahead." Wooyoung points to an older male who held his phone as a recorder in his hand.
"What is the future for the both of you? Is there a wedding we have to look forward to?"
Wooyoung digs his fingers into the podium, smiling still. "Possibly in the future, yes. We've talked about it."
Without asking, another reporter chimes in. "But, isn't your marriage to Choi San the requirement for both companies to merge? Or is there more that we don't know about?"
Wooyoung feels like he's going to throw up, his smile beginning to waver. "I wouldn't say that, exactly–"
"But isn't it true that you're both living together?" Another reporter, completely different from the last, asks intrusively.
"We are, yes. We have been living together for nearly two months." Why the fuck isn't Eun doing anything to stop the questions? Why is he letting me make a fool of myself? Why am I standing up here alone? Why isn't San speaking up too? Why is it only me? Why is it always me fucking up?
"Then how come we only ever see the two of you out and about to come to the company and never anywhere else?"
Wooyoung's eyes darted around the crowd, eyes bridging with tears. He's shaking, he's sure he is at least. This was too much, way too much. "I– that's not– no, we leave to go to dinner–"
Wooyoung's voice is trembling, but he's smiling through it, trying to be reassuring, but his tone was far from convincing.
"You love him, don't you?" A final reporter asks, and it's only then that Wooyoung feels like he's going to crack.
They've never asked us that before. Wooyoung swallows. This was supposed to be mainly about the merging of the companies. Since when did this ever just become about us? Why do they care about our living arrangements? Why do they only care about asking any of this to only me?
"I think that's enough for today, thank you." A hand finds the small of his back, another grabbing his wrist. Wooyoung glances to his left to see San next to him, gently beginning to pull him away and towards their chairs, but Wooyoung feels like he can't breathe.
"Woo?" San questions very quietly, turning to face his fake-partner who stands nearly still.
"Can't–" Wooyoung takes a sharp breath inwards. "B-Breathe."
San quickly pulls Wooyoung towards him without presently thinking, stepping off of the stage carefully, making sure that Wooyoung didn't fall behind him as they step off, then leading him away back towards the tower's lobby. Wooyoung can just barely hear as his father takes over, speaking plainly about something he could hardly understand. His mask was crumbling, all of the time spent ignoring all of his feelings coming rushing back like a tidal wave, and he's not sure if he's going to be able to out swim the force of the water.
"Hey, hey, hey–" San pleads quietly, pulling Wooyoung to sit down on a nearby chair once they've entered the lobby. "Breathe, Wooyoung."
"I–" Wooyoung closes his eyes, his free hand tightening into a fist on his lap as his other squeezes San's hand. "I don't know– I can't tell–"
"It's okay. There's no one else here. It's just me. We're alone. We're in the lobby. The media isn't here, Wooyoung. It's just us."
Wooyoung shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip, letting more tears sink past his eyes, curling over his cheeks and down to his jaw.
"Can you look around for me? If you do, you can see how safe we are. There's no one here."
Wooyoung lets out a whine as the weight on his chest tightens painfully.
"Do you trust me?"
Wooyoung's eyes open, turning to glance at San with a reddened gaze. Trust him?
"It's okay. Look." San points carefully to the space around them, which thankfully turned out to be vacant. Wooyoung follows the movement of his hand, glancing around, spotting no one in sight, leaving them completely alone.
"Breathe. We're not going back out there, okay?"
Wooyoung nods, chewing on his lower lip, lessening his grip on San's hand before realizing how hard he must've been holding his hand. "Oh my god, I'm sorry–"
"It's alright." San smiles gently at him, keeping his grasp firm on Wooyoung's hand. "Can you breathe better now?"
Wooyoung nods, taking a shaky breath inwards. "Mhm."
"Okay. Do you want to go home?"
"Please." Wooyoung pleads, and San smiles at him again.
"Okay. Wait here, I'll be right back."
Wooyoung watches as their hands leave one another, San's footsteps becoming inaudible as he treks out of the building. Wooyoung sits and waits, feeling tears continue to fall from his eyes, even if he no longer was actually crying. His chest was still, breaths even, but he supposes this familiar numbness is the only thing saving his sanity from crumbling into a million pieces. He's felt all of this before, this emptiness, this pained loneliness; none of it was unfamiliar. But, what was new was the doting force taking care of him, watching him carefully, inspecting his every move, trying to make sure that Wooyoung knew he was being cared for.
Sure, Seonghwa and Yeosang had helped him plenty of times before, but only long after his meltdowns had subsided. No one that has ever been a present figure in his life has ever watched him have an anxiety attack and proceeded to stay afterwards.
San was the first.
"Okay, we can go. The press should be busy out front, so we can sneak out."
"M-My clothes–"
"I know. Yeosang will get them, okay? He's your friend, right?" Wooyoung nods.
"Alright. He can get everything. Let's just get you someplace safe."
Wooyoung rises from his seat, blinking himself awake, unable to come to terms with the fact that out of everyone present in this building right now, Choi San, his fake-boyfriend that he 'hates', is the one taking care of him right now.
Wooyoung follows San to the side entrance, arms folded against his chest, hands hanging onto his lower arms to keep himself present, not knowing if the panic would come back with a vengeance.
San walks at Wooyoung's pace, not pressing him any quicker than he was willing to walk as they break through the door and spot the blacked-out SUV, quickly hurrying inside before anyone notices their departure. Once safely inside, the driver begins to pull away wordlessly, the car quiet, save for the rumbling engine and rolling tires.
"Better?" San asks a few minutes into the drive, gaze turned towards Wooyoung as the younger male looks out of the window, tears having slowed in the last minute or so.
"Mm." Wooyoung feels unable to formulate words, the energy stored away in his body seemingly gone, evaporating from his system, leaving his body feeling like a heartless corpse.
San doesn't press any further, keeping the car quiet and calm, and Wooyoung is internally grateful.
"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," Wooyoung sniffles as he sits down on the couch, carefully tugging a blanket over his legs with a teary-eyed gaze.
"It's nothing to apologize for." San assures with a quiet breath, sitting on the couch nearby.
"It's been a long time since I've let myself break like that. I didn't expect to lose my composure so fast." Wooyoung now holds a tea mug in his hands steadily, admiring the soft green of the mug before glancing up, meeting the soft gaze that San had held.
"I didn't know you struggled with anxiety like that."
"I don't. . . well, I mean, I haven't in a long time." Wooyoung's brows pinch slightly. "I stopped allowing myself to feel my emotions so easily because of my parents."
"That can't be healthy." San raises a brow, but Wooyoung shrugs.
"It's what I had to do. They don't like forms of weakness, and anxiety makes you weak."
"I don't think so." San tries to assure, but Wooyoung avoids his gaze. "Uhm, Wooyoung?"
"Yeah?" Wooyoung looks up again, chewing on the inside of his cheek, still holding onto his warm mug of tea.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you last night."
Wooyoung's expression falters. He isn't sure if he can handle crying anymore tonight. "You don't have to–"
"No, I–. . . I do."
"We're both at fault here," Wooyoung presses. "I should be saying sorry, too."
"I've been treating you like shit. I can understand why you don't like me."
"I'm not much better." Wooyoung turns just enough to set his mug down, adjusting the way he was sitting to eye San better. He could tell that the male had spent an obvious amount of hours beating himself up mentally about all of this, but who knows for how long he had been doing so?
"I really shouldn't have yelled at you like that, though." San sighs. "I was on edge last night. I was in a bad mood and I wasn't in control of my attitude, so it all got out of hand."
"It's okay, I'm not stressed about it. What made you so upset?"
"Sun-hee." San avoids Wooyoung's gaze now, shifting in his seat.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was stupid, and I really shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Can I be selfish and ask you something?"
San shrugs. "Shoot."
"What were you arguing over?"
San glances at Wooyoung, brow raised curiously. Wooyoung instantly shrinks in on himself, gaze blinking down at his hands. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to–"
"You." San mumbles, catching Wooyoung's attention readily. "We were arguing about you."