Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

***

They say that first love is an accident. It begins when someone makes the world seem bigger, brighter, and more interesting than before. That person becomes a special part of your story, a page that can't be torn out or rewritten. Junyung had never believed in fate, red threads, or other superstitions, but he was certain that meeting Hyungseo was not an accident. There was something bigger, deeper, and maybe even mystical behind it. Every day, Junyung thanked "whatever" for the opportunity to meet this person. His person.

***

The bright school corridor echoed with lively conversations and joyful laughter. The jingling footsteps of high school students, who had recently returned from winter break, filled the air. They crowded around the classrooms, chattering merrily and interrupting each other as they ran around and goofed off. Junyung, a sophomore, was walking with Jaehyun, his classmate and best friend. Jaehyun was gesticulating and laughing with his usual vivacity and emotion while saying something, but Junyung could barely hear him over the echo of dozens of other voices throughout the hallway. Junyung's attention was fixed on the wide, open windows overlooking the schoolyard, where windblown cherry blossoms were landing on the floor. His thoughts were far away. He couldn't take his eyes off the spring landscape outside the window and for some reason, he had a feeling that something important was going to happen today.

"Hey!" The sudden tap on his shoulder startled Junyung, who flinched and grabbed his shoulder, glaring at his friend in surprise. "Are you even listening to me?"

The boy blinked a few times, looking around and trying to reconstruct his companion's monologue. But he didn't wait, waving his hand dismissively.

"Forget it," he said, offended.

"Come on," Junyung grinned guiltily, stepping closer and playfully wrapping both hands around Jaehyun's forearm in apology. "I know you were talking about Juyeon again."

"I don't talk about him that often," Hyunjae said as he tried to pull away from his friend, who wouldn't let go. "Get off me, or we'll be misunderstood."

The classroom was no less lively than the hallway. Junyung sat at the second to last desk by the window. The outside noise was barely drowned out by the quiet song playing through his headphones. He stared at the notebook in front of him, scratching the back of his head with a pencil. He periodically paused the music, scribbling and changing things in his notes. Jaehyun, who was sitting in front of him, suddenly turned around in his chair, yanked one of Junyung's headphones off, and began poking Jacob's disgruntled face with his phone.

"Look, he's so hot," Hyunjae said lovingly, resting his hand on his cheek. "It's like he was made to play basketball. I'm sure this time it's definitely fate," he emphasized.

Junyung nodded a few times, though he didn't agree. He couldn't remember all of Hyunjae's crushes during their friendship, nor could he recall one that had lasted more than a couple of weeks. His own situation was exactly the opposite. In his 17 years, Junyung hadn't even held hands with anyone. But he wasn't really interested in that; in fact, he would rather date his guitar.

"How could you fall in love with someone who almost broke your nose?"

"It was an accident!" Jaehyun exclaimed, immediately standing up for the basketball player. "I told you it was fate," he said, looking up dreamily. "I'll tell our kids how cool their dad was when he was young."

Junyung shook his head and rolled his eyes. No longer wanting to listen to his friend's fantasies, he went back to his work.

***

The cafeteria was noisy and bustling with clinking cutlery, sliding plates, and loud laughter and conversation filling the large room filled with dozens of occupied tables. The tantalizing aroma of fried rice and something spicy wafted through the air, whetting an already voracious appetite. Junyung picked up the tray and moved along the serving line, hastily picking out his lunch; then, he found Hyunjae, who had already taken a table, in the crowd and headed toward him. Hyunjae was staring off to the side with a hand on his head. He picked at his plate with his fork and didn't even blink when Junyung sat down across from him. Junyung knew what had caught Jaehyun's eye, but out of curiosity, he turned his head in the same direction and saw the basketball player Hyunjae had been talking about for the past week. The thing is that Jaehyun, who was passing by the basketball court during one of the team's recent practices, was lucky enough to get hit with a heavy ball on his pretty face by his current lover, who miscalculated the force and threw the ball out of the court. He immediately ran up to the victim, apologized and promised to buy him something delicious as a sign of apology, which Hyunjae thought was a very noble and gentlemanly act and fell in love with the guy at first sight. In this school, Lee Juyeon was quite a popular person, that rare case when sports and studies perfectly coexisted in one person. Smart, handsome, athletic, charming, in a way he was the epitome of the word perfect. Junyung even felt a little sorry for Jae: a star like Juyeon would hardly ever bother to pay attention to a gray mouse like Hyunjae.

"I bet he doesn't even remember what he owes you," Junyung said, bringing Jaehyun out of his trance. Then he put a piece of meat in his mouth and continued, chewing and pointing his fork toward Juyeon's table. "All athletes are like that. They can't see beyond their own noses and don't think about anyone but themselves."

"Don't generalize," Hyunjae objected. "Juyeon isn't like that."

"How can you be so sure of someone you barely know?"

"I just have a feeling," Junyung grinned, which made Jaehyun frown even more. "You want to bet?"

"On what?"

Hyunjae was silent for a second, biting his cheek, and then he answered immediately:

"On a wish."

"Only within reason."

"Of course," he smiled smugly.

Junyung raised his eyebrows, still not sure why Jae was so quick to jump to conclusions about Juyeon, but he quickly shrugged it off and turned his attention back to the food.

As it turned out later, the one who jumped to conclusions was Junyung himself. They were a few steps away from leaving the cafeteria when a sharp "Hey!" made them stop and turn around. Jaehyun's gaze immediately softened; Junyung's eyes widened in surprise and his mouth dropped open as he watched the black-haired athlete actually hand Hyunjae a small colored bag with a guilty smile.

"Here. I hope I made it up to you?" Juyeon asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Jaehyun, too enchanted to stand still for a few seconds, then came to his senses and took the bag, deliberately touching Juyeon's hand with his skinny fingers, but before he could say anything, the athlete ran back to his friends, giving them both one last appraising glance. Junyung slowly turned his astonished eyes to his friend, who, after a few seconds, looked at him, too, and slowly broke out into a sly, proud grin. It was probably the first time Jaehyun had ever been right about his object of affection. Junyung had lost the argument.
***

"We agreed to do it within reason!" Bae exclaimed as the two returned to the classroom and Hyunjae voiced his wish. "Don't you think this is too much? Don't drag me into your love affairs!"

"I think it could be worse," said Jaehyun, sitting across from Junyung and resting his chin on the back of his chair. He looked at the bun that Juyeon had given him. "I didn't ask you to start a family with him. Hiding strawberry milk under his desk for a week isn't such a cruel task, you know. Compared to the ones you gave me, it's nothing," he said, pressing his lips together and looking up as if remembering something. "You should thank me for my leniency," Hyunjae said, holding his hands out as if expecting applause.
But Junyung only let out a desperate exhale, closed his eyes and buried his nose in his desk.

***

In their five years of friendship, neither of them had ever shied away from punishment after losing an argument. This time was no exception, so Junyung brought a can of strawberry milk to school the next day. When the lunch bell rang in the middle of the afternoon, Hyunjae mockingly wished his best friend good luck, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and left with the other classmates for the cafeteria. Junyung flipped him off and turned in the opposite direction, looking for Juyeon's classroom. He was a year older, so his classroom was one floor up. He walked down the corridor with his head held high, reading the signs, searching for the coveted "3-1." When he finally found it, he stopped and turned around a few times. Making sure there was no one in the hallway, he opened the back door that led to the back of the classroom, still a little hesitant. As expected, the spacious classroom was empty. However, Junyung's scrutinizing gaze lingered on the last desk by the window. A senior was sleeping peacefully with his hands folded on the desk and his head resting on them. Junyung bit his lip, unable to believe he was actually doing it. He stepped hesitantly across the threshold and entered the classroom, keeping his eyes on the sleeping man. He didn't need witnesses. Bae looked around, swaying awkwardly. It was only then that he realized he had no idea where Juyeon was sitting. Still looking at the sleeping man, Junyung cautiously approached the nearest desk, on which textbooks and other supplies were scattered carelessly, and peered into someone's notebook, trying to recognize the owner of the seat. Not seeing the right name, the guy tiptoed further to the last desk of the second row, did the same and was disappointed again. He sighed nervously, realizing that he was running out of time, but suddenly he found himself very close to the potential witness and now he could see him more closely and in detail. The breeze from the open window ruffled his black hair, which was slightly golden in the glare of the sun; he had sharp, expressive features, but his open lips gave his expression a vulnerable, childlike softness. The thin wires of his headphones stretched downward from his ears, jangling slightly; the classroom was so quiet that Junyung could vaguely hear a melody in them that even seemed familiar to him for some reason. There was something mesmerizing about his look, and Junyung, without realizing it, kept staring at him, unblinking and maybe not even breathing. It could have gone on forever, and Bae probably wouldn't have minded, but the next moment the older boy slowly lifted his eyelids, and his deep dark eyes met Junyung's glittering ones, who suddenly came to his senses, flinched in surprise, and rushed forward in an unsuccessful attempt to pretend he was just passing by. In his haste, Junyung had stumbled, somehow accidentally dropping the notebooks lying on the edge of the waking guy's desk on the floor.

"I'm sorry," he turned around and hastily sat down, looking at them with a worried, confused look; he wanted to pick up the loose sheets, but froze in place with his mouth hanging open in surprise.
Among the several fallen notebooks and the neatly scribbled pieces of paper that had fallen out, Junyung noticed a detailed portrait drawn in simple pencil. For a moment he forgot how to breathe. A fraction of a second later, the newly awake senior grabbed the fallen notebooks and worksheets with a swift movement of his hand and shoved them onto the shelf under his desk. It was only then that Bae realized that every neatly and so professionally drawn detail on the face he'd just seen belonged to him. To Junyung.

Chapter Text

“Did I just imagine that?” – the fleeting thought flashed through Junyung’s mind, but within seconds he had already managed to convince himself of it; after all, there was no other way to explain what he had just seen. The guy lifted his head and met the piercing gaze of the upperclassman. To his surprise, the older one’s eyes still carried calmness and restraint, yet Junyung felt the tension hanging in the air and noticed how the senior froze, almost as if he wasn’t even breathing.

Realizing how ridiculous the situation was, Junyung cleared his throat and straightened up; not knowing what to do with himself, he ran his fingers through his thick brown hair a few times, brushing it back. Then, swaying awkwardly, he took a couple of hesitant steps forward, but suddenly realized he had nothing to lose anymore, stopped, squeezed his eyes shut for a second, took a deep breath, turned around and blurted out:

“Do you know where Lee Juyeon sits?”

***

“So? How did it go?” Hyunjae asked, still fiddling with his new camera he had been busy with all morning, when Junyung silently put his tray down on the table and sat across from him. "Oh, wait, I just remembered I forgot to tell you where Ju–”

With one eye closed and the other pressed to the viewfinder, Hyunjae pointed the camera at the boy in front of him, but the moment he saw Junyung’s annoyed, almost furious face on the screen, he immediately lowered it. Meeting Junyung’s burning glare, he finished his sentence in a much less lively tone: “…where Juyeon sits. You okay?”

Junyung recounted everything that had just happened in the smallest detail. By the time he finished, Hyunjae was doubled over with laughter.

"It’s not funny,” Junyung grumbled, watching Jaehyun wipe tears from his eyes. “If he takes it the wrong way and tells Juyeon about me…”

"Of course he’s gonna take it the wrong way!” Lee cut him off. "How else could he even take it?”

"I swear, I’ll kill you,” Junyung threatened coldly enough that Hyunjae’s smile instantly disappeared.

"But seriously, you should go talk to him and explain. Wouldn’t be fun if people start spreading rumors,” Jaehyun suggested, shrugging.

"If that happens, it’s one hundred percent your fault.”

"No, no, no.” Hyunjae wagged his finger and shook his head. "Not a hundred. My fault would be, hm… twenty-five percent at most. I told you to do it when his classroom was empty. It’s not my fault you’re unlucky enough to run into the one day someone skipped lunch. And then you embarrassed yourself in front of him… yeah, that’s on you.”

"I told you not to drag me into this…” Junyung groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Relax, you’ll be fine.” Jaehyun stretched across the table and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Just talk to him after class and explain. But whatever you do – don’t mention me."

***

As irritating as Hyunjae’s advice sounded, it was still logical. And no matter how much Junyung wanted to never run into that guy again, clearing up any possible misunderstanding was absolutely necessary. So, after class, instead of heading home, Junyung trudged back to that cursed third floor.

He stopped a couple of meters from the classroom door, leaned his back against the wall, and pulled his cap low to avoid drawing attention while he waited. Students filed out in small groups, chatting and laughing loudly. After ten minutes, the hallway grew quieter, and Junyung started worrying he might have missed him in the crowd of identical uniforms.

But then, as if to crush his doubts, the door opened and he walked out last.

Junyoung stepped forward hesitantly, and when he got close enough, he grabbed the stranger’s sleeve with two fingers, forcing him to stop and turn around. Stranger's eyebrows twitched slightly when Junyung took off his cap, revealing his face. A second later, Junyung noticed his fingers still gripping the fabric of the senior’s jacket. He immediately pulled his hand back and coughed awkwardly.

"Listen…” he began nervously, his eyes accidentally landing on the name tag peeking out from under the jacket. The jacket covered most of it, but he caught the surname: “Moon.” Beautiful. Looking back up, he continued: "I wanted to clear something up.”

He nodded a few times, listening intently without blinking.

– “Earlier today…”

– “It’s fine,” Moon interrupted, as if already knowing what he was about to say. His voice turned out to be so melodic and soft that goosebumps ran down the younger one’s back. "I didn’t tell him. And I won’t.”

"N-no! That’s not what I meant,” Junyung blurted nervously, waving his hands. “You’ve got it wrong…”

"Doesn’t matter,” the senior said with a smile so sincere and charming that Junyung frowned slightly. “It’s none of my business.”

He turned to leave, but once again Junyung instinctively grabbed the fabric of his jacket.

"Wait!” He held on until Moon turned back. “About the drawing…”

Junyeon noticed the tension in Moon’s face.

"Sorry if I saw something I wasn’t supposed to…”

"I drew someone I’ve admired for a long time,” he cut in smoothly, once again making Junyung think he could read minds. "And yeah, I noticed right away you look a lot like him. Don’t stress about it.”

"I wasn’t stressing! We don’t even know each other, so obviously it’s impossible,” Junyung laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyway, sorry for the misunderstanding.”

Moon nodded again, then gently took Junyung’s wrist – making the younger boy’s heart skip a beat and realize he’d been clutching the sleeve the whole time – and started walking away.

For several more minutes Junyung stood frozen in the same spot, staring at the senior’s back and rubbing the wrist he had just touched.

“His hands are so cold.”

***

Junyung’s room was spacious and cozy, though a little messy – what he called “creative chaos.” Posters of various musicians covered the walls, some of them peeling at the corners and hanging down. Books and comics were scattered chaotically on the shelves, untouched by him. On his nightstand sat a half-full glass of water and a framed photo of Junyung’s mother; next to it leaned an old acoustic guitar. Two lamps on either side of the bed bathed the room in warm golden light. On his desk lay crumpled sheets of paper with messy lyrics and chords – he had just finished arranging a new song for his next cover and was setting up his phone on a tripod across from his bed, adjusting the angle. A couple years back, out of boredom, the guy decided to make a channel and post his music there every now and then to see how he was doing. Over time, it turned into a hobby for the soul. Even though his videos barely got 10 views, and only Jaehyun wrote comments saying how great he was, it gave Junyung an inexplicable satisfaction.
He picked up the guitar, sat comfortably on the bed, tuned the strings, and began strumming softly, his other hand pressing the chords from memory. The guitar didn’t sound perfect – it was old – but it had belonged to his late mother, and he never planned to replace it. His voice softened as he sang. As a child, people often said his voice sounded like his mother’s when she sang. That was why, after her death, his father strictly forbade him from doing music, even tried to throw away the guitar, but nine-year-old Junyung begged him to keep it.

“Doesn’t matter,” suddenly, Moon's words echoed in his mind, paired with that innocent smile that didn’t match them at all.
Junyung froze, the song breaking off into silence. He collapsed backwards, groaning dramatically.

"How can someone say those words with such an attractive face?!” he whined, then setting the guitar aside and lightly slapping his cheeks with both hands. "Stop it, just stop. You’ve already cleared it up, so why are you still freaking out?”

***

The next day, against his own will, Junyung bought strawberry milk again. Same as before, he crept upstairs during lunch break, checked the coast was clear, and slipped into Juyeon’s classroom. Luckily, this time it was empty. He snuck over to Juyeon's seat— which was right in front of Moon's desk —and slid the drink under it. After that, he closed his eyes, put his palm on his chest, and exhaled with relief. When he opened his eyes, he accidentally caught a glimpse of the desk behind him and had an incomprehensible thought.

“It wouldn’t hurt to at least know his name, right?”

Curious, Junyung reached for the neatly stacked notebooks on the desk. Whispering the name on the cover, he read it out syllable by syllable:

“Moon Hyungseo.”

Yesterday he had already noticed how neat his handwriting was, and now, seeing how perfectly organized everything on his desk was, Junyung couldn’t help thinking he might be a perfectionist.

Realizing what he was doing, he quickly snapped the notebook shut, shook his head hard, and quickly stepped toward the exit; opened the door, and unexpectedly flew into a figure that had suddenly appeared in his path.

The first thing he saw was the name tag. To his luck or not: Moon Hyungseo. Then he looked up, blinked rapidly, unsure if he should greet him or apologize. In the end, he gave a quick bow – not sure himself if it was for hello or sorry – and bolted down the hallway, feeling Hyungseo’s gaze on his back.

***

"I embarrassed myself in front of him. Again," Junyung mumbled into his folded arms on the table. This time he didn’t even bother to grab a lunch tray – which was rare for someone who loved to eat. "Again.”

Hyunjae sat beside him, patting his back.

“Well hey, at least it was him again," he spoke with his cheeks stuffed with rice, trying his best not to laugh and make his friend feel worse. "Imagine if it’d been somebody else — you’d have to explain yourself twice.”

Junyung only groaned miserably.

"Alright,” Jaehyun sighed deeply. “Since you’re such a lost cause, I’ll cut your punishment down from a week..." he held up seven fingers, then folded them down until only three remained. "...to three days. Tomorrow’s the last one, deal?”

Junyung peeked up at him through his arms, then slowly broke into a grateful smile before throwing himself into a hug.

"You’re an angel, Jaehyun, I love you!!!”

"Get off me, idiot!” Jaehyun pushed him away, looking around nervously to avoid attention.

***

The next morning, on the way to school, Junyung bought strawberry milk for the last time. As the cashier scanned it, he swore he’d never buy it again. Maybe it was cursed, the reason for all the humiliations of the past two days. By now, he thought it might actually be easier to just hand it to Juyeon directly – but a deal was a deal.
After waiting for the lunch break, Junyung went to the third floor, as he always did, but he walked more slowly than usual down the quiet corridor. He was afraid to imagine the shame he would endure this day. In a way, he had resigned himself to it. When he reached the door, he stopped and crossed his palms against his chest. He began to pray, asking God – if He existed – to bless him on this last attempt. He also promised never to argue with Hyunjae again. Then, feeling like some kind of fearless superhero, he grabbed the door handle and swung it open with all his might—a decision he regretted a split second later. When he opened his eyes, he saw two pairs of eyes wide open in surprise. Moon Hyungseo and Lee Juyeon were sitting opposite each other the last desk in the row by the window with their heads turned toward the door. Juyeon immediately straightened up, raised his eyebrows, and smirked meaningfully at Junyung, looking uncannily like a cat.

"Looking for someone?” he asked, eyes locked on Junyung. Then, slipping his hands into his pockets, he pulled out two cans of strawberry milk and twirled them playfully in the air.

Junyung quickly hid the identical can he was holding behind his back.

“Me, by any chance?”

Junyung swallowed hard, darting his eyes between Hyungseo, staring at him in surprise and even with a little regret, and Juyeon, grinning slyly.

"I’ll kill you. I swear I'll kill you, Lee Jaehyun.”

Chapter Text

***

Hyungseo had long understood that sooner or later, a person ends up alone with themselves. No matter how many friends there were, no matter how many voices buzzed around—inside, there was always a quiet space that no one could fill. For some, it was frightening; for others, it became torment. But for him, solitude had become something familiar, almost natural.

He had learned to speak less than to listen. To pay attention and remember—faces, gestures, the words of others. People often seemed like riddles, but solving them rarely brought satisfaction. On the contrary: the closer he got to someone, the clearer he realized that an invisible boundary would always remain between him and others. Hyungseo knew firsthand: the closer you let someone in, the more it hurts when they push you away.

Perhaps that was why he often thought about what closeness really meant. True closeness—not friendship for noisy gatherings or shared photos, but something deeper: meeting someone who would see you, accept you for who you really are, and stand by your side no matter what. Even though Hyungseo didn’t expect such a meeting to ever happen, somewhere deep inside, he still awaited it, like people wait for a rare eclipse or a falling star.

Hyungseo found refuge in art. When his hand grasped a pencil or brush, he finally felt freer, finally became himself, and without reservation, poured all his emotions, feelings, and thoughts onto the canvas.

***

Upon entering high school, Hyungseo constantly felt utterly empty. Days stretched in endless gray streaks, and even drawing no longer brought him desire or energy. His only activity was mindlessly scrolling through social media feeds late into the night; he wasn’t looking for anything in particular, only trying to pass time and dull intrusive thoughts.

One evening, lying on his back with one leg hanging off the bed, Hyungseo held his phone before his face, aimlessly tapping and scrolling, tiredly watching a carousel of bright images. Suddenly, he felt his hand weaken. Before he could react, the phone slipped from his fingers and smacked him squarely in the face, painfully hitting his nose. Grimacing, he muttered and immediately picked up the device.

From the phone speakers, a melody began to play. Hyungseo lazily turned onto his stomach, rubbing his nose with one hand as he looked at the screen. The video had started by chance: an old guitar filled half the frame, hiding the musician’s face, while long, deft fingers moved over the strings with captivating ease. A dim desk lamp flickered in the corner, casting shadows and glints across the strings. Something held him there, and he did not regret it: when the mysterious musician began to sing, Hyungseo felt an inexplicable relief. The voice flowed through the speakers—expressive, pure, alive—and it gave him the sense that someone else had magically appeared in the dark room.

Hyungseo froze, listening intently to the unfamiliar song, eyes following the graceful motion of those fingers. He didn’t notice when the video ended, only returning to reality when the room once again fell into its oppressive silence. For a moment, he simply stared at the black screen, as if afraid to disturb the feelings he had just experienced.

“So few views, seriously,” he thought, noting that the video had fewer than four. “He’s obviously a professional.”

Hyungseo looked down at the musician’s username—@jacobj—and clicked on it, opening the profile. The video he had just watched was the only one there.

From that moment, every evening Hyungseo would visit the stranger’s profile, endlessly replaying that cover and eagerly awaiting new uploads. And when they finally appeared, he would drop everything, plug in his wired headphones, and, each time, as if for the first, freeze, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions he could neither describe nor explain. He let the music flow through him, savoring each note, each trembling chord. There was something captivating about that voice, something that inspired him, allowed him to forget, even if only for a few minutes, all his troubles, and simply relax.

This went on for some time.

When Hyungseo entered the second year, at the beginning of the semester, his school held a ceremony celebrating its fiftieth anniversary. That day, Hyungseo sat at the back of the hall, listening to congratulatory speeches from teachers, alumni, and various speakers, occasionally clapping lazily along with everyone else.

The host announced the next performer, noting that they had only joined the high school this year and were already becoming a rising star, then disappeared behind the curtains. The hall froze for a moment—coughs ceased, papers stopped rustling—all eyes eagerly awaited the moment when the small musician on the middle of the large stage would strike the strings.

Seconds later, the chords resonated unexpectedly softly, and for Hyungseo, this softness felt extraordinarily familiar. He straightened and focused intently on the stage. When the guitarist began to sing, the voice struck Hyungseo in the chest so sharply that he had to take a deeper breath to conceal his tremor. He would recognize that voice among a thousand, even a million others. The voice that had been there when he was alone. The voice that gave him strength to endure each day.

When the song ended, Hyungseo realized he was standing. The hall paused for a split second, then erupted in deafening applause and cheers.

From that day on, starting the second year, Hyungseo’s gaze always sought out and followed Junyung wherever he went in school—noisy corridors, a distant table in the cafeteria, the schoolyard—but Junyung never returned the gaze, unaware of how much his voice and mere presence meant to someone, of the small source of joy he provided. But that was enough for Hyungseo: to see Junyung’s happy smile, hear his voice and laughter in the crowd, or watch his thoughtful expression during meals was more than enough. The mere chance to encounter his idol every day seemed an incredible luxury.

This continued until the day, during class, when boredom made Hyungseo absentmindedly sketch a memorized face. That day, their eyes met for the first time. Though his expression betrayed nothing, a hurricane of emotions raged inside Hyungseo, and he felt on the verge of tearing apart. Shocked by the encounter, he lost his words and could only nod toward the desk in front of him when asked.

When Junyung awkwardly left the classroom, leaving Hyungseo alone again, he realized he hadn’t been breathing, and exhaled sharply, trying to process what had just happened. His eyes landed on a strawberry milk bottle left under a neighboring desk, and he propped his cheek on his hand, sighing thoughtfully.

“Looks like he prefers athletes.”

Later, when Junyung approached him after class, Hyungseo struggled to maintain a composed expression. Of course, despite his words, he did care. His flushed ears and racing heart probably gave him away, but Junyung was too focused on something else to notice. When Hyungseo passed the corner of the corridor, he pressed the hand that had touched Junyung’s wrist to his cheek.

“He’s so warm.”

***

The next day, on his way to school, Hyungseo stopped by his grandmother’s restaurant as usual: the small family business had been started by his father, but after his parents died, his grandmother ran it. She left early in the morning and often forgot to eat breakfast, so the caring grandson checked in every morning to remind her.

“Hyungseo, how many times have I told you?” she exclaimed, seeing her grandson at the door, leaving everything to rush to him. “Don’t come in. Go to school, or you’ll be late!”

“I can’t focus if I’m not sure you’ve eaten,” Hyungseo said, stopping outside. “You didn’t forget breakfast, did you?”

“Didn’t forget,” she panted, shoving him forward. “Go, or you’ll be late. Come on.”

“Watch me, grandma,” he said, putting two fingers to his eyes and pointing them at her. “I won’t take my eyes off you.”

She waved him off with a loving glance until he disappeared around the corner, waving goodbye.

***

“This time, for homework, I’m giving you a group project,” said the teacher, collecting papers. Students groaned. “The class leader will randomly pair you, and you’ll have two weeks. You choose the topic yourselves. Thank you.”

After the teacher left, soft chatter began, stopping only when the class leader tapped the teacher’s desk to get attention.

“I knew in advance, so I’ve already prepared,” she said, twirling a small jar containing folded slips of paper. “Let’s see…” The girl quickly ran her hand inside, took out two pieces of paper, unfolded them, and called out the names, showing them to the class as proof. The jar was clearly empty when the girl said the name on the next piece of paper she pulled out: "Moon Hyungseo and..." She took the second piece of paper and unfolded it. "Lee Juyeon."

Juyeon caught several confused glances from classmates, especially the ones he was close to, before turning to Hyungseo with an appraising look.

“Hey,” he said during break, sliding away from his friends to sit across from Hyungseo, gripping the back of his chair with both hands. This caused his friends to whisper and stare, and Hyungseo, raising his eyes in surprise, froze. “You usually don’t eat lunch, right? How about we do it together this time? Talk about the project quietly?”

Hyungseo, flustered, nodded.

***

“Actually, I’m waiting for someone,” Juyeon said once everyone left the classroom. He pulled out two bottles of strawberry milk from under the desk, and Hyungseo immediately realized his plan. “A mysterious fan’s been slipping me this stuff for two days straight. Not that I mind fans,” he squinted at the pink bottle, “but I’m allergic to milk. I wanted to see who hates me enough to keep shoving this crap at me.”

Listening intently, Hyungseo stared at him.

“I suspected they’d come during lunch, and curiosity got the better of me. Funny that we’re paired up now. I was going to skip lunch anyway, now there’s a reason,” he said, slipping the bottles into his pants pockets. “I think it’s fate.”

“Maybe,” said Hyungseo.

An awkward silence followed, broken when Juyeon asked:

“Why don’t you eat lunch?”

“I don’t like school food,” Hyungseo joked, but the real reason was something else. Sitting at the table all alone, Moon felt terribly uncomfortable surrounded by dozens of noisy people. “I bring food from home.”

“Ah,” Juyeon nodded. “Then you can bring it and join me if you want. It hurts to see you sitting alone every time.”

Hyungseo, too surprised by the fact that someone was paying attention to him at all, didn't answer right away. Before he could say anything, the classroom door with its characteristic rumble suddenly swung open completely and he appeared before his eyes. Watching his expression change, Hyunso even felt a little guilty.

“Looking for someone?” Juyeon stood upright, twirling the milk bottles. “Me, by any chance?”

Nervously smiling, the newcomer held the door handle with one hand, the other behind his back, eyes darting. Suddenly, he slammed the door and ran; Juyeon cursed under his breath and chased after him, tripping over his own chair leg. Hyungseo covered his mouth with his fingers and couldn't hold back a mortified chuckle.

“Silly.”

***

“Really thought you could escape me?” Juyeon said, dragging the runner back and plopping onto his chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. Bae, at the same desk in the row across from him, studied his hands. “Anyway, what I wanted to say is…” Juyeon straightened and cleared his throat. “I don’t mind your… uh, flirting, or whatever this is,” Junyung frowned, then snapped:

“It’s not flirting! God…” Junyung began, but Lee interrupted:

“I’m allergic to milk,” he said, and Junyung clapped his eyes guiltily. "So from now on, get me orange juice, for example. I love it.”

Surprised by his arrogance, Junyung shook his head, holding up a hand to signal ‘chill,’ and said irritatedly:
"No, you got it wrong. This isn’t flirting. It doesn’t mean anything. I just lost a bet and one of your... fans asked me to do this as punishment. Got it?”

“Seems he doesn’t like athletes,” Hyungseo thought, watching Junyung and barely hiding a satisfied smile hearing the excuse.

“Oh, really?” Juyeon pursed his lips, nodding. “I thought maybe you had a crush on me. Don’t ask her name, but tell her she’s a bad fan. Here," he set one bottle on Hyungseo’s desk and tossed the other to Junyung, who caught it. "Alright, glad that’s settled. Time to eat before it gets late.” Juyeon shoved his hands into his pockets, walked to the door, then paused, noticing two watching eyes. “You guys coming?”

Exchanging glances, Hyungseo and Junyung followed the basketball player.

***

Hyunjae choked slightly when he noticed the trio entering the cafeteria. He quickly fixed his hair, checking his reflection in the phone screen, then looked at Junyung questioningly as the guys carried their lunch toward his table. Bae just smiled meaningfully and winked at his friend.

“Oh, it’s you!” Juyeon said happily, sitting across from Hyunjae and meeting his gaze.

“Ah, you’re the basketball player who almost ruined my perfect nose?” Hyunjae smiled warmly, pointing to his nose, and extended his hand. “Lee Jaehyun. Or just Hyunjae.”

“Juyeon Lee, nice to meet you."

Struggling to tear his eyes from the basketball player, Hyunjae looked at the guy on the next chair and raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if recognizing a familiar face.

“You must be…” he stopped when Junyung, sitting nearby with an innocent expression, playfully pinched his friend’s thigh. Jaehyun flinched slightly but got the hint. “Ah, a classmate. Yeah, Juyeon’s classmate, right?”

“Moon Hyungseo,” he smiled softly, shaking his hand in greeting.

“Hope you don’t mind if we join you today. No seats left,” Juyeon said, already filling his cheeks with hot rice.

“Of course not!” Hyunjae blurted, then corrected himself. “I mean, it’s more fun together, right, Cob?” The boy nodded.

“Cob?” Juyeon asked curiously.

“Ah, he has a chane…”

“Eat already, geez,” Junyung interrupted, shoving a large piece of meat into his mouth from his plate.

Hyungseo couldn’t help but smile, watching the guys fool around.

“Cob, short for Jacob,” he explained. “I once wanted to move abroad, picked a name, and it stuck.”

Gradually the hum of the dining room and the lively conversations at their table faded into Hyungseo's ears, and his gaze lingered on Junyoung, who was chatting happily. Moon looked at every detail – the curve of his eyelashes, the movement of his lips, the slight squint of his eyes and the slight smile, it seemed that every detail was designed for Hyungseo's gaze to return to him again and again. Their eyes met by chance for a few brief seconds, but it was enough to make time stop flowing. The smile that had been glowing on Junyung's face a moment ago seemed to dissolve, giving way to a slight thoughtfulness. There was a strange sensation in that silent collision, as if each understood more about the other than intended to show. A moment, and they both averted their eyes, everything falling back into place: Junyung picked up the conversation, while Moon busied himself with his lunch.

Hyungseo caught himself thinking that today, for some reason, his grandmother's food felt much tastier than usual.

Chapter Text

***

"He invited me to his next game," Jaehuyn mumbled pensively, propping his face up with his hands and dreamily staring at the ceiling. "Invited… to the game…"

"He invited all of us," replied Junyung, who was sitting opposite him, without lifting his gaze from his notebook, and his words pulled Hyunjae back into harsh reality.

"God, you are so cruel. You could have at least been happy for me," Lee slowly straightened up and cast a gloomy look at his friend. But in the very next moment, the expression on his face changed: a curious smile flickered on his lips. He leaned in closer and asked quietly: "So… what about you?"

Junyung glanced at him from under his brow in confusion.

"What?"

"You like Hyungseo? He couldn’t stop staring at you," Hyunjae theatrically widened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Bae. "Like this."

"You’re imagining things."

"Sure, I’m totally crazy about Juyeon, but not so much that I don’t notice what’s going on around me," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "I’m telling you, he liked you."

In response, Junyung playfully jabbed his shoulder with his fist.

"Not everyone’s like you, Hyunjae," he remarked, finally tearing himself away from his notebook. "He barely knows me. We’ve run into each other a couple of times and hardly even talked."

"Well, yeah, he doesn’t seem like the chatty type," Jaehuyn sighed and nodded in agreement. "But honestly, you two fit. I think you’ll end up being friends."

"You dream too much," Junyung shook his head. "We just ate at the same table by chance, and there’s no reason to think it’ll ever happen again. It was just coincidence."

"And you’re always so damn pessimistic. Don’t you think real friendship usually starts by accident?"

***

In the evening, Junyung strained to concentrate on the letters in his notebook, yet the memories of the day insistently carved their way into his mind, relentlessly diverting him from his studies. Although he denied it, Junyung had in truth felt the piercing gaze of Hyungseo upon himself, and attempting to convince either himself or Hyunjae otherwise was utterly futile. But did he truly mean anything, as his friend so confidently claimed? For some inexplicable reason, these thoughts refused to grant Junyung peace of mind.

At last, Cob surrendered; he exhaled deeply and, leaning back against the chair, fixed his eyes on the ceiling, as though all the answers lay concealed there. After several minutes, the phone resting on his desk vibrated sharply, pulling him out of his reverie, and he reached for it with a languid movement. On the screen, a notification appeared:

“User3778 has left a comment under your video:
As always, a charming cover from a charming musician! Keep it up!”

Running his eyes quickly across the lines, Junyung switched off the phone and forced a faint, crooked smile. Hyunjae had been leaving him comments of this sort ever since the boy had first begun posting videos, as though intentionally reminding him that apart from him, he was of no significance to anyone at all. Yet, to be perfectly honest, at times they sounded so genuinely heartfelt and gracious that, on the contrary, Junyung found himself truly moved by them.

***

"That will be all for today. Thank you for your attention," the teacher gathered the notebooks from his desk into a neat stack and headed toward the door; then suddenly stopped, turned back to the class, and added: "Ah yes, I nearly forgot. This year, as always, our school will be opening extracurricular clubs. The class representative will hand out the forms—please try to decide and sign up for something by the end of the day."

After receiving his sheet, Junyung’s eyes skimmed swiftly over the list of clubs, and, not finding the one he sought, he stopped the class representative.

"There won’t be a music club this year?

The girl shook her head.

"As far as I know, the music room has been closed for renovations. So the club won’t be opening this year."

Hyunjae spun nimbly around on his chair and turned to face his friend, who was staring pensively at his form.

"If you don’t know where to go, come with me to the sports club."

"Pfft, do I look like I’m into that kind of torture? You go suffer through two-hour practices," Junyung sneered, casting him a look of mock disapproval.

"Then what are you signing up for?"

"I’m thinking here," he turned the sheet toward Hyunjae and pointed confidently with his pen at the words “Art Club.” Jaehuyn gave a short chuckle. "What’s so funny?"

"Nothing, really. I just remembered how in middle school the art teacher thought your self-portrait was a potato."

"Hey!" Junyung tapped him on the forehead with his pen in jest. "I’ve gotten way better since then, just saying."

Rubbing his forehead, Hyunjae nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

"At least I’ve got a reason to join sports," he folded his arms over the back of his chair and rested his chin on them. "But what’s your reason?"

"It’s the closest thing to art here. Sitting with a book all day? No thanks. Interviewing everyone? Not my thing. And I think we can safely leave math unspoken," Junyung dismissed each of the options one by one. – "This is literally the only option left."

"Fine, whatever," with a swift motion Hyunjae snatched Bae’s pen and scribbled something onto his own sheet. "But don’t come crying later that it’s boring without me. I’m not saving you."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Junyung did the same, placing a checkmark next to “Art Club.” "Let’s see who ends up saving who."

***
The following few days passed uneventfully, devoid of any notable incidents. On one of these days, Junyung and Hyunjae witnessed Juyeon, under the disapproving glances of his friends, leave his group in the cafeteria and settle at a neighboring table, where Hyungseo sat alone. From that moment onward, Jaehuyn could not cease extolling Juyeon’s virtues, describing him as noble, magnanimous, upright, and flawless in every conceivable way. On several occasions, the four of them crossed paths inadvertently in the corridors and the cafeteria, exchanging greetings, engaging in trivial conversation, and even once again sharing a meal together at the same table.

On the appointed day after classes, Junyung and Hyunjae, true to the promise they had made to their new friend, made their way toward the basketball court situated in the schoolyard. Playfully fiddling with his camera, Hyunjae chattered incessantly about something, though Bae didn’t even need to listen closely to know the subject—or rather, the person—of his monologue. Junyung was beginning, quietly, to marvel at how enduring this infatuation had become.

As they approached the court, Junyung caught sight of a familiar face amidst the small, bustling crowd of spectators, and Hyungseo, noticing his glance, waved at them invitingly. Juyeon stood opposite him in his uniform, and upon noticing the boys, crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to appear as effortlessly cool as possible.

– Oh, you actually came? – he said as they approached close enough to hear him.

While Hyunjae, exhilarated by the sight of the athlete, eagerly bounded toward him and began persistently begging for permission to film, Junyung’s gaze involuntarily slid toward Hyungseo, who was already watching him.

"Hey," Junyung managed awkwardly, offering a small, tentative smile.

"Hey," Hyungseo replied, keeping his eyes fixed on him.

For several seconds, they simply froze, silently gazing at one another. It felt as though the entire world had paused for a fleeting moment: the court’s clamor, the cheering voices, the thud of the ball against the asphalt—all faded into silence for Junyung, and he felt his heart flutter lightly in his chest. When he finally blinked and came to his senses, hastily averting his gaze, the figures who had stood nearby—Hyunjae and Juyeon—had vanished: Bae turned to see them striding toward the basketball team gathered in the middle of the court.

"Where are they going?" he asked, following them with his eyes.

"I think Hyunjae said he’s going to be the team’s personal photographer or something," Hyungseo replied, also watching their retreating backs. Then he nodded toward a nearby bench and suggested: "Want to sit?"

"They became fast friends," Junyung remarked, watching his friend spin around the posing team, snapping pictures from every angle. Then he turned to Hyungseo: "You and Juyeon been friends long? Lately, it looks like he only hangs out with you."

Hyungseo looked at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Nah, we’re not that close. It just… happened that we got paired for a group project," he explained. "We didn’t really talk before that."

"Ah, got it," Junyung nodded understandingly. An awkward pause hung in the air. Not knowing what to do with himself, Bae dropped his gaze and started fidgeting with his fingers.

"And you and Hyunjae? Been friends long?" Hyungseo broke the quiet that had been dissolving into the hum of the noisy crowd.

"Fifth year now," Junyung replied. "We went to middle school together, and that’s when we became close."

"Gotta be fun with him," Hyunjae’s loud, contagious laugh echoed across the court, and Junyung felt a sudden, faint twinge of embarrassment on his friend’s behalf.

"Yeah, totally. He’s always annoying me, but I love him. Don’t even know what I’d do without him right now."

"What’re you guys talking about?" Hyunjae, satisfied and cheerful, finished his photoshoot and hopped over to them, plopping down on the bench between the boys.

"We were just talking about you," Junyung replied, with a hint of teasing.

"O-oh yeah? And what did you say?" he tilted his head, curiously looking each of them in the eye.

"Junyung said you’re annoying," Hyungseo said with a playful smirk. Jaehuyn immediately turned to his friend, poking him in the chest with an offended finger.

"That’s it? Not a word about me being handsome, the life of the party, or a professional photographer? You really are cruel.

A few minutes later, the friendly match finally began. The crowd around the court thickened little by little; the excited hum of voices and bursts of laughter tangled with the shouts of the players darting back and forth. The game turned out to be far more dynamic and gripping than Junyung had ever expected, especially for someone who normally had no interest in sports.

When Juyeon once again sent the ball cleanly through the opponent’s hoop, the three boys leapt up from their seats in unison, their excitement bubbling over as they slapped each other’s palms and cheered right along with the rest of the crowd.

Naturally, Hyunjae was the most absorbed in the match. His sharp, ringing voice cut straight through the general noise, and his boundless energy overflowed to the point that he couldn’t stay still for even a second. He kept springing up from the bench, flailing his arms with uncontainable enthusiasm. Every time he darted to his feet, space opened between the boys, and more than once Hyungseo found himself glancing sideways—his gaze lingering on Junyung, who was utterly immersed in the game. He noted quietly to himself how strikingly handsome the younger boy looked in profile, his features refined and perfectly proportioned.

And whenever Junyung happened to notice that gaze fixed on him, Hyungseo would quickly turn back toward the court, feigning intense focus on the match. After holding his eyes on the older one for a moment longer, Junyung too would redirect his attention to the game, as though nothing had happened.

With the score seven to six in Juyeon’s team’s favor, the game came to an end. It had already grown completely dark outside, and the crowd slowly began to disperse, leaving behind only ringing laughter and fragments of cheerful voices somewhere in the distance.

At the very end, a breathless Juyeon came over to the guys—almost as if just to hear some compliments and praise thrown his way—after which he went off to celebrate the victory with his team.

Walking unhurriedly along the empty street lit brightly by streetlights, the three of them headed home. Jaehyun walked between them, occasionally mumbling something indistinct to himself as he buried his face in his camera and looked over the pictures he had taken; Junyung and Hyungseo walked silently at his sides. The cool spring breeze carried with it the pleasant scent of fresh leaves and the sweet aroma of some flowers, brushing against their faces and gently swaying the tall tree branches.

“I'm going this way,” Hyungseo stopped at the fork in the road and pointed to the left.

“Alright, man, see you tomorrow,” Hyunjae finally tore his eyes away from the screen and patted the older guy on the shoulder. “Join us in the cafeteria if you can. And don’t forget to drag Juyeon along.”

Hyungseo smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Sure thing,” he said, then shifted his gaze to Junyung.

“So… bye?” Junyung asked.

“See you,” Moon replied and started walking backward in the direction he needed to go, keeping eye contact for a few more seconds; Junyung cautiously raised his hand in a small wave, watching him go, and kept standing there in the same position, lost in thought, even after Hyungseo’s figure disappeared into the night.

“Hello? You alive?” Hyunjae snapped his fingers twice right in front of Bae’s face. Junyung startled and instantly came back to his senses.

***

“The past few days, it’s like you’ve been floating in the clouds, seriously,” Hyunjae muttered as they resumed their walk. “You were never much of a talker, but at least you used to listen to me.”

“And what do you think I’m doing right now?”

“Nope,” Lee waved him off. “Right now you’re just pretending. I know you, man—you’ve got your own little drama running in your head.”

“Nothing’s running,” Junyung shrugged; Jaehyun narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing his friend with thinly veiled suspicion, but the latter stubbornly kept his gaze fixed ahead.

“Fine, don’t say anything if you don’t want to,” he gave up at last, then quickly grew absorbed again in his photographs—zooming in on Juyeon’s face in each shot and humming something cheerfully under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, Junyung caught a glimpse of the images his friend had taken and remarked:

“You should post your masterpieces online. Maybe someone will notice you and you’ll actually end up a pro.”

“Nah, it’s just a hobby for fun,” Jaehyun finished fiddling with the camera and stuffed it back into his pocket, inhaling the spring air deeply. “I’m not that good at it anyway. Besides, we already have one rising YouTube star here.” With both hands, Hyunjae theatrically pointed at Junyung; the latter smirked and waved him off.

“Come on. If it weren’t for your inspiring comments, I would’ve quit a long time ago.”

A brief silence hung in the air, until Hyunjae furrowed his brows and asked in confusion:

“What comments?”

“Well, user3778, or whatever it was,” Junyung's expression changed as he glanced at his companion, but Jaehyun just kept staring at him with the same curious look. Then Bae stopped, smoothly pulled his phone from his pocket, and within seconds turned the bright screen toward Jaehyun, showing the unfamiliar profile.

“Nah, man. My username’s way cooler than that,” Jaehyun shook his head, squinting at the phone. “Seriously though, who even picks names like that nowadays?” he muttered under his breath. “So what—you’re saying you’ve got yourself a secret admirer now?” Both of them looked at each other at the same moment, eyes leaving the glowing screen.

“He’s been leaving comments under every single one of my covers since I started that channel,” Junyung said, his voice detached, gaze fixed somewhere ahead. “This whole time I thought it was you.”

Snatching the phone back, Hyunjae tapped swiftly across the screen, only to purse his lips a few seconds later in disappointment.

“Yeah, no way you’re figuring out who it is just from a YouTube account. But whoever they are, dude, they’re totally obsessed with you. Your number one fan.”

***

Before going to sleep, Junyung lay on his bed and absentmindedly got caught up in rereading the comments from the mysterious user, starting from his very first video. Now, to Bae, they sounded completely different.

“I can’t stop listening, this is a masterpiece,” Junyung whispered each one out loud, his voice barely audible. “Never stop singing… Thank you.” He frowned slightly. “Thank you? For what? Weird.”

After a while, he put his phone aside and lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. A faint sense of guilt crept in — guilt that he had never noticed and never once replied to the secret admirer who, judging by the comments, truly admired him. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Silly, almost certainly pointless — yet irresistible. He unlocked his phone again, went back to the last comment left by the fan, and slowly typed out a short: “Who are you?”

Hesitating for a few seconds, he finally pressed send. Late into the night, Junyung kept checking his phone, but no reply ever came. It was still in his hand when Bae finally drifted off to sleep.

***

Gaining the courage to step into the art club room proved far more difficult than Junyung had initially anticipated. A faint regret tugged at him for not following Hyunjae into the sports club instead; at least there he would’ve been spared this gnawing hesitation. He found himself pacing back and forth before the closed door, rehearsing the moment in his head, only to lose his nerve again and again.

Finally, he drew in a deep breath and planted himself firmly before the door. His fingers had just curled around the handle when a familiar voice cut through the silence from behind.

“Hey."

Junyung whipped around, startled, only to find Hyungseo watching him with a faintly amused expression.

“You going in?” Hyungseo asked, tilting his head toward the door.

Junyung blinked, his suspicions immediately confirmed — of course Hyungseo was part of the art club.

Hyungseo entered first, moving with confidence and ease — clearly no stranger to this room. The classroom was completely empty; he made his way to the far end and settled at one of the free desks. Since the tables were designed for two, Junyeon hesitantly took the seat beside him.

As the artist began spreading out his materials, Junyung’s eyes wandered across the bright room. The walls were adorned with hundreds of different artworks: watercolor, gouache, pencil sketches, and even full canvases depicting intricately rendered landscapes and still lifes. Along one wall, empty easels stood in a neat row, while shelves were crammed from top to bottom with used paints, palettes, brushes, and a multitude of other drawing tools that Junyung had never seen before.

“You're good at drawing?” Hyungseo spoke up, drawing Junyung’s attention back to him.

Junyung gave an awkward little smile.

“Nope. Honestly, I can’t draw at all. I wanted to join the music club, but they shut it down this year. So… out of desperation, I ended up here.”

“Oh, so you’re a musician? What instruments do you play?” Hyungseo asked, still absorbed in arranging his brushes on the table.

“Mostly guitar,” Junyung shrugged. “I can fumble through some simple stuff on the piano, too.”

“I’ve always admired musicians… and I’ve always dreamed of learning to play.”

“Oh, I get it,” Junyung smiled. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to learn how to draw, but apparently my fingers are only made for guitar strings,” he added with a smirk, stretching out his open hand and inspecting it. “For a pencil, they’re just… too clumsy or something.”

Hyungseo glanced at him briefly and shook his head.

“It’s not the fingers,” he said, pausing for a moment as his gaze fell on Junyung's hand. Then, as if struck by some idea, he flipped open a pristine page in his sketchbook and handed Junyung a sharply pointed pencil. He looked him in the eyes, silently asking for permission. After a brief hesitation, he carefully and tentatively covered Junyung's hand with his own, as if afraid to startle him. Instantly, Junyung tensed, a subtle shiver running down his spine.

“Here, unlike playing the guitar, you don’t have to fear making mistakes, or worry about extra movements,” he murmured, slowly guiding Junyung's hand across the blank sheet; the graphite left delicate, dark lines in its wake. “Relax,” Hyungseo whispered after a few seconds, pressing slightly more firmly on Junyung's fingers. His voice was soft, but uncomfortably close—too close.

Junyung's gaze kept drifting from the paper, no matter how hard he tried to focus; it stubbornly returned to Hyungseo’s face—calm, intent, and absorbed. He watched closely as his dark, fox-like eyes squinted slightly, the thin line of his lips quivered, and the light from the window gently traced the contour of his profile, highlighting the sweep of his cheekbone and the line of his jaw.

Then Hyungseo slowly lifted his eyes from the page to meet Junyung's. Their gazes locked, and their hands froze on the desk, halting the fluid motion of the pencil. The air in the room suddenly thickened, charged like the moments before a storm, and breathing felt heavy. Their faces were perilously close—Junyung could see his reflection glimmering in Hyungseo’s dark pupils and feel the warm, steady rhythm of his breath against his cheek. His heart pounded erratically, so loudly that aside from its thunderous beat hammering against his eardrums, Junyung heard nothing.

After a few seconds, Hyungseo’s intense gaze finally slid down from Junyung's eyes, lingering briefly near his slightly parted lips.

The piercing vibration of Junyung's phone suddenly shattered the silence. He jerked his hand back, and Hyungseo immediately withdrew, exhaling nervously. Trying to mask the tremor in his voice, Junyung cleared his throat and hastily brought the phone to his ear—but before he could speak, the desperate voice of his best friend blared through the speaker:

“Code red, Cob! This is a disaster! Everything’s ruined. It’s over…”

“What happened?” Junyung asked, bewildered, glancing at Hyungseo, who stared at him with concern upon recognizing the voice on the other end.

“I… I just… Juyeon… he has a girlfriend…”

***

“You seriously scared the hell out of me,” the boys moved into the school courtyard, where Hyunjae was waiting on a bench, his face buried in his hands. "Okay,” Junyung continued as they all sat down on either side of him. “How did you figure that out?”

“I…” he lifted his eyes but faltered when he saw Hyungseo. Yet the gravity of the situation seemed to outweigh his reluctance to share his secret, and he continued immediately. “I saw him… holding her hand… leading her behind the school…” — and he started sniffling again, burying his face back in his hands.

Hyungseo and Junyung exchanged a glance. From the look in his eyes, it was clear he understood immediately.

“Well, it’s Juyeon—should’ve expected that,” he tried to console Jae, but it only made things worse: Hyunjae wailed, burying his nose in his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Juyeons come and go, but Bae Junyung is forever with you."

After they had calmed Hyunjae down and he went off to his own place, the two of them returned to the art room and reclaimed their previous seats. Some of the desks were already occupied by other students, quietly chatting as they waited for the instructor.

“You’re not even gonna ask?” Junyung asked, watching as Moon continued the drawing they had left unfinished. A strange, yet strangely captivating flower was beginning to take shape on the page.

“Hm? What?” Hyungseo looked at him with curiosity.

“Well… Hyunjae and Juyeon…”

“Ah… that’s none of my business,” Moon shrugged before Junyung could finish.

Junyung remembered he had said something similar once before and couldn’t help but note how considerate and respectful this guy was about other people’s boundaries.

When the club session ended, Junyung and Hyungseo headed to the restroom to wash their hands and clean up the supplies they had used.
Drawing proved to be far more challenging than Junyung had anticipated, yet equally captivating and engaging. Even if his landscape resembled the visual hallucinations of a madman, time had flown by unnoticed, and he couldn’t deny that he genuinely enjoyed the process. Now he stood before the faucet, unsuccessfully trying to scrub his arms clean up to the elbows, stained with multicolored watercolor under the noisy gush of water. At the neighboring sink, Hyungseo rinsed brushes and a palette, pressing his lips together to stifle an amused smile as he watched his companion’s futile efforts.

“Hey, are you laughing?” Junyung caught him in the reflection of the wide mirror across from them. Hyungseo immediately adopted a serious expression, clearing his throat. For a few seconds, Junyung glared at him in the reflection, then, with a sharp motion of his hand, struck the powerful stream of water, sending icy droplets flying directly at the culprit. Part of his face was soaked, and wet streaks marked his white shirt. Seeing Hyungseo freeze, eyes wide in surprise, Junyung couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Sorry, I overdid it,” he said, still chuckling.

Hyungseo snapped out of it and, not wanting to waste any time, immediately grabbed the faucet, directing the cold stream toward Junyung. Squinting, Bae instinctively raised his hands in front of him as if they could somehow shield him. Droplets and splashes scattered across the room, reflecting in the mirror and sparkling in the bright lamp’s light; their laughter mingled with the roar of the water. They bumped shoulders, playfully grabbed each other’s wrists, and every gesture, every touch sent a jolt through Junyung, like electric currents running through him again and again.

After they had thoroughly played around, soaked and exhausted, the boys stepped out of the school and paused on the porch, gazing up at the endless starry sky above. A sharp gust of cool wind swept past, and Junyung, wearing nothing but his drenched school uniform, folded his arms across his chest and shivered from the chill. Noticing this out of the corner of his eye, Hyungseo turned to the younger boy:

“Are you cold?”

Junyung straightened up immediately and shook his head.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, falling silent as he glanced at his phone. “Hyunjae messaged—he’s running really late, so we can go.”

They walked along the street bathed in lamp light, completely alone; the quiet was broken only by the soft rustle of their steps and clothing as their shoulders occasionally brushed. The air remained crisp, the wind teasing their hair, sweeping across their shoulders and necks, leaving a faint shiver in its wake. They reached the spot where Hyungseo usually turned and stopped.

“Do you live far?” Moon asked, glancing at the younger boy.

“Uh, kinda far,” Junyung pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “About twenty minutes on foot, I guess.”

Hyungseo nodded in understanding, then shrugged off his windbreaker and held it out to Junyung.

“Here, take it. Don’t catch a cold.”

“No, it’s fine,” Junyung shook his head, waving him off. “You’re wet too.”

“Take it,” he insisted, pressing it into his hands. “I live close, it’s not far for me.”

With a sigh, Junyung gave in and draped it over his shoulders.

“Thanks. I’ll wash it and give it back.”

“No need!” Hyungseo blurted out. Catching Junyung's questioning look, he added quickly: “I mean, don’t wash it. It needs special care.”

“Oh, alright then. Got it.”

They stood for another minute, silently looking at each other, as if wanting to say something more but unable to find the courage. Finally, Junyung cleared his throat and said,

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

And with that, they went their separate ways. Junyung glanced back several times, watching Hyungseo’s figure grow smaller until it disappeared around the corner. Then he slipped his hands into the sleeves of the borrowed jacket, zipped it up to his chin, and completely buried himself in it. Warmth enveloped him immediately.

***

Late at night, after finishing arranging the next song for his cover, Junyung collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. No sooner had he closed his eyes than the scene from the art room earlier that day replayed vividly in his mind: Hyungseo’s gleaming eyes, his warm, steady breath. Junyung frowned and shook his head, trying to shake off the intrusive thoughts, but the final straw was the soft, focused whisper of “Relax,” suddenly echoing in his mind. He groaned, opening his eyes and covering his ears with his hands, which burned as if betraying him. His gaze fell on Hyungseo’s windbreaker hanging nearby. Without thinking twice, he sprang up, grabbed it, and returned to bed, pulling it over himself completely and inhaling deeply the lingering scent of paint, coffee, and something sweet.

A notification on his phone broke the spell and made him slowly pull the warm jacket off his face, freeing only his eyes. But as he lazily scanned the first words, he immediately straightened up, rereading the message carefully a second time. The mysterious user had finally responded to the question Junyung had left some time ago:

“Sometimes what we’re looking for is right in front of our eyes.”