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Chapter Text

The rumours of Kang Younghyun’s perfection have been greatly exaggerated.

Contrary to popular belief, his nose is not drawn straight with a rule. Rather it’s a little crooked—barely so but visible upon close inspection—just at the bridge. Like someone punched him in the face. For being annoying, probably. Something I can easily imagine happening.

Note that this close inspection is not brought upon by intimate relations. Ew. I simply happen to have the unfortunate circumstance of sitting behind him and to the left in Philosophy, only the most boring class in existence, and given that my mind is prone to wander...well...there it wandered.

And what do you know. Nobody is perfect. Not even Mr. Top of the Class, star forward of the hockey team, and All-Around Good Guy Kang Younghyun with his winsome smile and his winning personality.

Maybe especially not him.

If anything, it’s guys like him who have figurative skeletons in his closet. Maybe even literal skeletons in his closet. Not that this train of thought indicates any desire whatsoever to foray into his closet. His closet, literal or figurative, isn’t really the issue here.

Kang Younghyun isn’t the issue here.

The issue here is hockey.

Specifically, the university’s men’s ice hockey team.

But first, a recap.

***

For the record, I wasn’t late. I was on time. But in the business of sucking up to the chair of the Communications and Media Department, coming in at least thirty minutes early was the standard practice. A practice I don’t have the privilege of exploiting because Han Gain has made a conscious effort to not make it appear that she is favouring me in any way at all. Really, it has to do with who my father is. Being the progeny of a respected and decorated movie producer and his actress ex-wife made any and all of my attempts at anything media-related a series of hoops and hurdles played on One-Winged-Angel mode as the default setting.

I knew this when I decided to go into broadcast communications that it wasn’t going to be easy. That whatever I do, my work and craft will be held against a different standard. I was prepared to put in the work, and I have been putting so much work since freshman year. Even though it’s only two weeks into the second semester of junior year, I’ve already out-qualified the graduating seniors who are applying for this year’s grant. I already meet the required grade point average. I attended, and still fully intend to attend in the future, all the seminars on media and related keynotes. I did, and still  am doing, the extra credit work. I sacrificed last year’s summer break to volunteer at a public grade school in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t have to do any of those things, but I did. I specifically asked what I needed to do and I did them all. All of it in preparation for next summer’s application process.

The summons to Professor Han’s office, presumably for the film project that all aspirants are expected to submit, is just another step closer to being the recipient of a National Geographic grant to be part of a team documenting the global climate crisis and communicating the message of saving the seas across the globe. Professor Han’s office looks like it’s been lifted right off a movie set: wide cherry desk, wall to wall shelving, reference textbooks in a neat row, and paperwork in two piles on either side of her leather dossier. There’s a couch and two one-seaters across her desk and that’s where the rest of the students are piled, wedged together and, those who can’t fit, perched on armrests. Meanwhile, the professor has her hip against her desk, sheet of paper in her hand. Twelve of us show up, three I recognised from various classes, and then there’s Oliver Kim.

Ugh.

Oliver Kim—though it physically pains me to bestow upon him such an honour—is my arch-nemesis. So far, he’s the only other student who’s CV is a close match to mine, and only because he benefits from Professor Han’s attempts not to favour me. Sure, I guess, he has a sort of outstanding college career, but he’s only a close second to my accomplishments because he keeps tracking what I do and catching breaks when the bias is against me. Jerk.

Oliver has a seat all to himself, of course. “Nice of you to join us. We started without you. Hope you don’t mind.”

“What did I miss?” I can’t have been late, even after I ran all the way across campus. But, of course, this is my fault because I didn’t come in earlier than early to clothesline Oliver before he pulled stunts like this.

“Your topic for your next film project,” Professor Han said, gesturing at another student  to my right who handed me a medium sized cardboard box. Inside was one last folded piece of paper.

“We have topics?” Usually we’re free to choose our own subjects, whatever is important to us and our personal advocacies. This is the first time I’m hearing of topics being pre-picked.

“Due to the competitive nature of this film project, I’ve decided to write down topics I’ve never seen in any of your previous works,” Professor Han explains, “So nobody recycles footage or story beats.”

Okay, first of all? Anyone who recycles footage and story beats for an international internship to Save the Earth needs to be slapped out of the ozone layer, not handed, silver-spoon style, a new topic to work with.

They went through the mechanics and the requirements without me, I realize. Nice. The rest of the details are recapped for my benefit, but all I can think of is: is this punishment for wanting to be The Best? Once, and not in these words exactly, Professor Han told me there were others who quit the moment they knew I was up for something, internships included. It was unfair that I have to suffer and be punished just so the others can feel like they have a shot at things, but I can’t begrudge the professor. She’s my mentor, after all.

Besides, if I really am the best then this shouldn’t be a problem.

I pick out the last sheet of paper from inside the box. “So this is me, I guess.”

***

So that was this morning, and yes, my paper said ice hockey.

What I know about ice hockey is this: it exists.

Okay, that’s a lie. I’m not that sports deficient. Hockey is a big deal here at this university, so yes. I have some knowledge given that the team always makes it to the championships. What I really know about ice hockey is a byproduct of what I know of their team captain, Park Sungjin. And, I guess, whatever information passes through the university grapevine about the players. Of note, Kang Younghyun. But we’ll circle back to him later. First, Sungjin.

Have I mentioned how beautiful he is?

My palms go clammy with just the thought of him. Captain Sungjin is my best kept secret. I’m not usually into jocks, but ever since freshman year when he helped me chase after my homework across the parking lot he’s become something of a permanent fixture in my life. Our paths have had no reason to cross other than an accidental brush of destiny along the many halls in the many buildings in the entire campus, and even after I found out he was in the hockey team, somehow, something always came up that I never had the chance to watch their games. It’s unlikely that he even knows I exist, but I can never forget the way he smiled at me or the deep rasp of his satoori. 

Unlike the rest of the athletes who’ve risen to some level of fame, Sungjin doesn’t strut through the quad with one of those I’m-God’s-gift-to-the-world smirks or show up with a new girl on his arm every day. In fact, the opposite is said of him. What I’ve heard is that he’s not the casual dating type at all since he’s hyper-focused on hockey. On the rare occasion I do see him around, he always gives off this intense, intelligent vibe that offers some insight to the hidden depths of him. As team captain, I heard he’s strict but respected, serious but capable of laughing and joking with his teammates. All the more reason that makes me desperate to get to know him.

I’ve dated other guys in the in between, but there’s just something about Park Sungjin that persisted through the years. Somehow he can always turn me into a mindless pile of mush. And nobody knows. Not even my best friend Jimin or my roommate Yerin.

I’m not one to believe in superstitions, but it seems inevitable in my field. See, I have this thing. I’ve kept Sungjin my secret for so long, it feels as though the universe has kept him secret for me as well. If I were to reveal how I felt for him, it would cause a cosmic big bang that would suddenly unveil Park Sungjin to the world and a secret he will no longer be. People are going to start noticing him and then he’ll be lost to me forever.

I kid you not.

I have a locked spreadsheet of all the boys I’ve secretly pined for before who, as soon as the secret was out, have found the loves of their lives. Just like that. Obviously, the love of their lives is not me. And thus, I couldn’t risk it. It was too much.

Besides, I can’t even begin to imagine the trash talk I’ll get from my friends and my social circles for even thinking about dating a jock.

Can you imagine? Me, dating a jock?

Ridiculous, right?

The moment class is dismissed, the lecture hall fills with the sounds of notebooks and laptops snapping shut and being shoved into bags as students shuffle out of their seats. I linger behind, watching Younghyun from the corner of my eye.

The praise and veneration for Sungjin, however, cannot be said of Kang Younghyun.

Case in point, Younghyun is immediately cornered on his way out of the row of seats by a gaggle of girls stopping him to say hi and to ask about coming to see him during practice or maybe after or at some party or other. Younghyun is the top scorer of the hockey team, a random fact I happen to have knowledge of because I did a quick search on the team on my way here from the meeting with Professor Han. Star athlete. Star student. All around superstar with his winsome smile and his allegedly winning personality. Personally, I don’t have anything against Younghyun—or Brian as he’s called in some circles, apparently—but let’s face it. A percentage of the university’s ruling elite are terrible human beings. It’s like an extension of high school, but with a different flavour of drama and actual consequences to one’s future.

I mentally gag as I pull up a map of the university on my phone. Not following sports means not knowing when or where sports happen. Anyway, I had my camera with me and I could start filming some establishing shots of the rink. Interview some people—coaching staff, the team, auxiliary personnel, maybe even some fans. Surely if I could get enough material, I can filter through it all, dig in elbows deep into the muck and find a beating heart to this story.

But first, I need to find the rink.

Three years, and I’ve never even been to the rink. Three years and I don’t think I’ve even taken any shots of a crowd at an athletic event. Or any athletic event. I save my map and start down the stairs and out the lecture hall. If I get lost, I can always ask for directions. As I’m walking, I look up the rest of the team profile to get a feel of what I’m working with. I save Sungjin’s profile for last, him being team captain and everything. Just thinking about interviewing him, filming him, spending time with him…My heart starts pounding in my chest and I randomly tap on the screen to take my mind off him.

“Are you lost?”

My phone clatters down to the concrete and I suffer a mini heart attack as I watch it skid to a halt. For a moment, I’m frozen on the spot as recognition sets in.

Another mini heart attack seizes my chest as Younghyun crosses my vision and picks up my phone. When he sees his headshot on the screen, he grins the most annoying grin ever and lifts my phone next to his face. “Are you following me?”

I crush the urge to clutch my chest to keep my heart inside my ribcage. Turning my chin up, I say, “I’m not following you. I’m on my way to the ice rink.”

His nose twitches and I’m hit with a wave of self-doubt. People do call it an ice rink, do they not? Whatever. I hold my ground and match his gaze.

Younghyun is…tall. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting but it wasn’t to be looking up at him as he hovered over me. Unlike his official profile photo where he wore a white bandanna over his forehead, casual Younghyun wore his black hair pushed back and to the side with a stubborn fringe sticking over his brow. Compared to the intense gaze on his picture, real life Younghyun’s striking feline eyes gleamed with…something. Something mischievous.

“Didn’t know you were a fan,” he teases, obviously holding back a chuckle.

“I’m not.”

He turns to my screen as though that explained everything. “You just happen to be looking at my official profile?”

I scramble my brain for the most convenient lie. “I forgot your name.”

Epic. Fail.

He laughs as he hands me back my phone. I reach for it and he slowly slides it into my waiting palm. “I’m Younghyun.”

Feeling like an idiot, I clear my throat before I introduce myself.

“I know. Nice to meet you, anyway,” he says, tilting his head and showing off a row of white teeth. “And guess what?”

I’m checking my phone for damage, so I don’t realize it’s a prompt for an answer until he nods at me like I didn’t get it the first time. “What?” I snap.

“It’s your lucky day.”

I doubt that very much. “Is it?”

“Indeed, it is,” he says, leading the way forward with his body. “I, myself, am on my way there, too. Come on. I’ll give you the exclusive tour.”

Somehow, coming from Younghyun, the words ‘exclusive tour’ feel like a euphemism for something.

Younghyun, from what I’ve heard of him, seems to be the euphemistic sort of guy.

Against my better sense, I follow him anyway. And as I walk two and a half a paces behind him, I try not to notice the way his red shirt clings to his wiry shoulders or the way it hangs down his torso. Instead, I memorise the directions and the pathways best as I can. And if I end up staring at him, it’s out of frustration and a desire to stab a freshly sharpened pencil right through his jugular.

I’m doing this for the Earth, I mentally chant. This is for the global climate crisis. Work is necessary. Especially work that I didn’t think I would be doing because my mentor could have just given me the slot and the recommendations. I knew it. This is punishment.

I might have let that last sentiment apparent to my dearest mentor who had something to say about my reluctance to pursue this topic. Professor Han’s final words echo back at me: Have you seen the hockey players? You have no idea what you’re talking about.

Chapter Text

There are reasons I am less than thrilled with my ice hockey assignment, and Kang Younghyun easily tops that list.

“So what brings you to the rink?”

The moment he asks, I immediately hate the thought of having to repeat myself when we get to the rink and the rest of the team makes their inquiry. True, it’s a valid question. Also true, it’s just not a question I want to entertain especially from him. But the way Younghyun is looking at me tells me he’s not about to let this go until I give in and tell him what he wants to know. He’s got a brow cocked and the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. Insufferable. I’m sure this is what he does when he wants to get his way with things, so just to throw him off I shut him down before he files me as another willing victim to his crimes against humanity. I refuse to allow him to pigeonhole me along with everyone else who jumps at the opportunity to do his bidding.

“You’ll know when we get there,” I say, keeping my eyes straight forward. Not a hardship. The campus is gorgeous with its rolling green lawns, brick buildings and old architecture seamlessly blended with modern buildings. Just walking around makes you feel like a university student in a movie, complete with all the students with their backpacks and books and other materials rushing from one place to another.

Younghyun is a man in a movie in his own right.

It’s a good thing then that we’re not in the same movie together. He’s more mainstream sports bro-film while I’m wildlife documentary.

“Ah,” he says, letting the word linger in the air. “So I take it it’s not a casual affair?”

I pin him with a sidelong glance. “I don’t do casual.”

Younghyun breaks out in a cheeky grin. “That’s what they all say.”

Ugh. Cringe. 

As we walk, it’s difficult not to notice how everything about him is easy and languid like the world just falls away and bends arounds him. There’s a cat-like grace to him that’s not endearing or charming or appealing, but nonetheless a weird thing that draws people to him. I won’t be surprised if sometimes against their will. He keeps turning heads as we cross the quad and into the other side of the university, and I swear I see girls just swooning and fanning themselves and outright blanking out at the sight of him.

Okay. That’s totally fair because I, too, would blank out at the sight of Park Sungjin. I get it. I know the feeling of euphoria that overpowers your better sense. I just don’t get Kang Younghyun. But on the principle of inclusivity and mutual respect, to each their own, I guess. Although, just in case, I do keep my distance from him in the likelihood that someone decides to jump to the wrong conclusion and attach my name to his. I prefer to be  perfectly nobody in the university’s elite and famous and I prefer it that way. My circle with the hard-hitting journos is all the reputation—good and bad—that I need.

Besides, I’m pretty sure having my name associated with Kang Younghyun only does more harm than good. Though I’m also pretty sure there’s a whole population out there that begs to differ. And violently, too. But as long as their subset remains independent from mine with no chance of an overlap, we can all coexist in this wide, wide world. Me over here, them over there. The world is wide enough, after all. How else can I explain never once having to interact with the ice hockey team.

Or Park Sungjin.

The fact that he’s all I can think about now makes me feel like a total loser. I am on a mission. This is for the planet. And yet…the thought of getting to know him…

“What’s up with your face?”

I pull my facial expression back to neutral from whatever embarrassing thing it was doing. “Nothing. Are we there yet?”

We’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes now, the slower pace partly because Younghyun keeps being stopped every other couple of steps by someone who wants his attention for one thing or another. I’ve lost count and I’m not paying attention to begin with. When it happens, I just pretend to be busy on my phone so it doesn’t look like I’m waiting for him. Some keywords I pick up have mostly to do with hockey, an invite to some party, study group, and more than one occasion a date.

It feels like we’re going around in circles through the parts of campus I’ve never had time to fully explore before. I swear to the heavens above, if Kang Younghyun is in reality a serial killer in disguise and he’s walking me right to the scene of my murder, I will haunt his—admittedly, and I do so with utter indignation, impressive—derriere for all of eternity. My ghost will fucking haunt his ghost.

“Almost there, princess.”

“You can call me by my name, thank you.”

Younghyun regards me for a full moment, the glint in his eyes unreadable as he is unpredictable. And here we have his main advantage over me. I read people. That’s what I do. I take apart the whole and find the parts that make it tick. I know of Kang Younghyun. But for all I know of him, he remains an unknown variable. He’s a sum of all the stories passed on about him, but when did the sum of the parts ever equate to the whole?

“And here I was thinking all this quality time together grants me the privilege of an endearment.”

Full stop. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and out his mouth in a breathy, hearty burst. He hikes his backpack higher over his shoulder and maintains eye contact. All of a sudden it makes sense why they call it eye contact. With Kang Younghyun, it may as well be a full contact sport, complete with padded gear and helmets.

Suddenly, it hits me. This is how he likes it. Having people not know what he’ll say or do next is amusing to him, doing things—shocking and unexpected things—simply for the sake of doing them just to see the reaction he’ll receive is what gets him off. He revels in lording his rogue nature over everyone else.

I hold up my guard just a little bit higher.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he teases, continuing down the path.

We walk another minute or so, and then finally the building facade of the skating complex comes into full view. Younghyun leads me through the double doors and there beyond the railing, surrounded by the bleachers, I see the ice.

“Welcome to the University Indoor Ice Rink,” he says, throwing his arm out and wiggling his fingers toward the massive space. He’s got big hands with long fingers, short nails, and knuckles that are slightly red and cracked. I wonder if he’s been in a fight recently, but then I realize the busted-up knuckles are probably a hockey player thing.

I don’t know why I was expecting the rink to be empty. Maybe it was some vain hope I can get a clean establishing shot of the empty ice and stadium, because I’m definitely sure I’ll need one. More than that, what I looked forward to was getting a feel of the liminal space. Know what this place is like apart from the noise and chaos. Right now, it’s far from empty. I find that out as soon as we walked in and I heard the authoritative barking out of instructions and guy laughter.

Despite myself—or maybe because exactly I am me—I search the ten or fifteen or twenty guys pouring into the rink for Sungjin. It takes a few seconds, but I find him the moment he emerges from the locker rooms in his jersey, running his hands through his dark, floppy hair that falls back down his strong forehead. Even through the distance and the glass separating us, I make out a smile on his face as he jokes around with a team member. Embarrassing enough, my knees go weak at the vision of him walking out in slow motion. My heart pounds in my chest and I’m transported to my editing bay, watching my own life’s playback. This is that moment, that scene where a cute guy walks toward you and you just know.

Cue spotlight.

Cue music.

Cue Kang Younghyun ruining the frame with his sauntering in, Cheshire Cat grin plastered across his face.

Oh, fuck me.

Uh…that came out wrong.

Whatever. You know what I mean.

My guard snaps back into place and I cross my arms over my chest. Wrong move because that only makes me look defensive. I drop my hands to my sides and turn my chin up at him, daring him to say something just to try and shock me. I’m ready for him.

Bring it, Kang Younghyun.

“So this is hockey,” he says, far too amused than he should be. Clearly, something must be so funny he’s barely holding back laughing in my face.

“Shouldn’t you be over there? Aren’t you late?” My face is so hot but I steel my nerves.

Where even is his stuff? He’s walking in here with just his book bag and his…well I suppose he’s walking in with just himself like his presence in itself is a Gift.

“Practice doesn’t start for an hour.”

“Then…shouldn’t you be getting your…” I don’t know enough about the sport to even carry on with that sentence. Besides, all I can think of is Sungjin being the first one on the ice. “Equipment? Stuff?”

He shrugs. “Nah, a frosh usually grabs my bag from the house for me. Don’t worry, I have all the time in the world to give you my exclusive tour.”

I walk away. It’s all I can do.

Of course he follows me. I don’t even make it two steps into the bleachers and Younghyun’s already strolling along, slowing to a stop when I glare at him. “Oh, I see.”

I’m sure he doesn’t, so I keep walking.

“That’s what it is,” he muses out loud, “I get it now.”

I shouldn’t ask. He wants me to ask. And asking can only lead to a Younghyun desired destination and I certainly do not want to go there. Going there will only force me deeper into this unnecessarily long and unwanted interaction and I am so done here. I will not give in.

Not me. I refuse to be swayed by him.

“And what exactly is it do you think you get now?”

Trust me, I, too, am judging myself for this weakness in character. My fatal flaw is curiosity. I can’t help it. I have to know.

He bounces his gaze off the guys that have now entered the ice. “You want someone else to give you the tour.”

Just once I want to wipe that grin off his face. Whack him in the nose with his hockey stick. Bash him on the head with a puck. Run him over with a Zamboni.

“So which one is it?”

“Who’s in charge here?” I ask because I need to drag this conversation right back to where it’s sensible and proper and not Younghyun-controlled.

He waves at an older guy with a clipboard and a whistle hanging down his neck. Someone who looks like he played in the past, someone who can still play if he wants to. I’m faced with a tall, chiseled man with a wide smile that’s all teeth. Younghyun introduces me to their assistant coach, Ok Taecyeon.

I introduce myself properly. “I’m from Han Gain’s class. From the Communications and Media department. I’m here for a video project.”

Coach Taec nods, recognising the name. “Oh, sure thing. You can talk to Sungjin, he’s the team captain. And, I guess”—he looks behind his shoulder—“Sunshine!”

Yet again, I’m thrown off because when I hear the word sunshine I think of a bright, bubbly personality with a full smile on their face. Instead, I get this girl dressed in black distressed jeans and a leather jacket over a retro shirt with some band on it. Her hair is hidden underneath a black knit beanie but I see a few deep blue strands peeking out. On her face is an expression of utter boredom. Maybe even existentialist ennui.

“Sunshine is our team manager,” Coach Taec explains, “She knows everything. You can coordinate with her.”

“Hey, Sunshine,” says Younghyun in a tone I can only describe as warm. He leans into her, almost like he’s about to tackle her into a hug. He doesn’t.

“It’s June,” she says to me. Then to Younghyun, “Toronto, you’re late. Lace up.”

Younghyun just grins innocently at her, clutches his chest dramatically. “I love it when you boss me around.”

Surprisingly enough, he does as she says and starts toward the locker rooms but not before he turns to me with a lopsided grin. “See you later?”

I refuse to dignify that with a response, and instead introduce myself to the team manager. “Nice to meet you, June. I can forward the email explaining the project and the course requirements. I was looking at the official team page but—”

“Yeah, the page needs fixing.”

Coach Taec excuses himself to get on the ice with the players for warm up. I watch the rink fill up, one by one, with a full cast of characters from a sports movie. I turn back to their team manager. “I know nothing about hockey,” I confess. “I actually came by for my first immersion.”

For a full moment, June is silent. When she talks, it’s terse but polite. “You can sit over there and watch if you like. Send me the official email and questions if you have them. Or you can ask whoever’s free and willing.” 

June gives me her contact information and directs me to the bleachers. After that, she heads back into the inside rooms for whatever it is team managers do. I back up to where I can see the whole rink and get a bird’s eye view of the setting. Somewhere elevated and safe to film. I pull out my phone and take pictures and compare frames. When I zoom in on the guys, they zip through the length of the rink too fast for me to follow with a stable hand.

I’m supposed to tell a story. For some people, the story comes first and they do what they have to do to bend their reality to say what they want to say. Some people come in with specific beats, but my instinct has always been to let the heart of the piece come out organically. Looking at this pile of sweaty, probably stinky, powerful, virile pile of…uhm….

I’m sure there’s a pulsing heart in there somewhere.

About twenty minutes of watching them skate around and hit a puck with a stick, I brave the distance and come closer for a better view. I’m sure the glass is there for a reason. It’ll be fine. Taking a seat, I jot down more notes on my phone to distract myself from the cold. Why did I not think it would be cold? What is this sorcery? I make a mental note to bring an extra jacket next time.

In between all that, I try to single out Sungjin. Following his jersey number, 16, is easy enough. Now, I don’t know enough about anyone else’s skating to be making comparisons but compared to player 94 who’s wicked fast and player 00 who is flapping about and yelling, Sungjin is steady and stable on his skates.

Ugh. The rate I’m going, this is going to be a Park Sungjin documentary instead of a hard-hitting sports documentary about what it means to be a team with the heartbreak and the victories, and everything else in between.

As I contemplate that thought, someone passes by me, slowing down to an easy glide in front of me. When he raises his visor, Younghyun directs his gaze to my side of the bleachers from across the glass. It can’t have been more than a second. Maybe two, three seconds max. But it felt like a forever the way he skates past. I feel a blush spread across my cheeks as Younghyun’s mouth quirks into a grin.

He really is quite handsome.

I’m only noticing it now—probably because I’ve been too distracted by how insufferable he is—but Kang Younghyun is all boyish charms. But at the same time there’s nothing boyish about him. Not his sharp, feline good looks or his athletic frame or those wiry arms and shoulders of his.

Thos shoulders. Yes.

I can acknowledge these points in an objective sense. I’m a real girl with working body parts. I’m not dead.

However, Kang Younghyun is also extreme and off-putting and the King of all Drama Queens.

I shake enough sense into me to respond, but he’s already laughing, pulling his visor down and skating away. He waves as if to dismiss me. That’s when I feel the urge to look behind me where June sits, averting. her gaze just in time to resume working on her homework.

Interesting.

Very interesting, indeed.

Chapter Text

The moment practice ends a new surge of nervousness rushes through me, momentarily overpowering the curiosity Younghyun’s capriciousness uncovered. I check behind me and see June getting up from the bleachers, her homework and other belongings already packed into her backpack, and coming down to my level next to the ice. Her battered black boots clunk down the steps and I look up at her.

“Do you want to meet the team now or later?” she asks in her deadpan voice.

“The video project isn’t due until the end of the semester,” I tell her, “I have time.” And time is what I need. I want to be able to take as much time working and reworking this piece, but I also don’t want to bother the team more than necessary. Furthermore, I don’t want to get into any awkward conversations due to my lack of knowledge and experience in the sport. It’s one thing to make a fool out of myself with Younghyun—that doesn’t count for anything, it’s nothing more than a blip in each of our universes. But with Sungjin? I don’t think I can survive talking to him and having him think I am any less than brilliant.

While I have been looking up the sport while watching the team practice, I don’t think I really absorbed anything. Not the rules, not the play. Best not to risk it. I can always come back—can always use the excuse to keep coming back.

“Come say hi anyway,” she says, walking ahead. “Eggheads are probably wondering who and what you’re supposed to be.”

I follow her down to the edge of the rink, right up to where it opens up to the locker rooms. The boys are filing out in twos and threes, boisterous with their teasing and their laughter. Younghyun is laughing too, walking toward us with a wide grin that stretches across his face like he knows something and you don’t and he’s not about to tell without a trade that benefits him more than it does you. Sungjin is the last to walk out of the rink, along with their assistant coaches Taecyeon and Yubin, and he notices me standing there almost immediately.

June introduces me using as little words as possible. “Video project thing,” she concludes, “don’t get any weird ideas and no”—she cuts off player 00 as his hand shoots through the air—“this is not for your vlog, Jae.”

It’s getting hard to focus on what anyone is saying because they’ve sort of all congregated around us, around me. Just a bunch of guys all decked in full padding and sticks like medieval knights in full armour and lances—or something. They’re talking among themselves, and I keep hearing mentions of who looks best on video and what this means for them. I’m glad no one’s asking me what it means for anyone, because I don’t have an answer to that just yet.

“So this is the team,” June ends, throwing a casual, noncommittal gesture at the men’s hockey team. Her lips twist into an expression I can’t place. “That’s the team captain.”

Sungjin steps forward, a solid and stable presence amidst the confusion. “Hi, I’m Sungjin. Nice to meet you.” He says it like there are people in this university who don’t know his name or who he is. Granted, I’m sure there are people who don’t know who he is or have not heard of him even in passing but that would probably be a stark minority. His modesty is a breath of fresh air. It’s adorable.

“Hi.” I sound illiterate. Sue me. “I have to film the team, I don’t know if Professor Han told your coaches about it yet?”

Sungjin’s eyes—his beautiful eyes—light up with recognition. “That’s the thing Coach Yubin was saying?” He asks this to June who nods like she’d rather not be talking to him. His smile is so bright, he has to know what it does to people. “Yeah, we’d love to help you out. You have to interview people, right?”

I nod and stammer, “Yeah…yeah. Interviews, access to games, personal profiles and some background on the players, and anything else you think and want me to cover, I guess.”

“Not a problem. Just let us know when you want to do the interviews and we’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.”

“Cap, we should invite her to the party tonight,” says 00—Jae—a tall, lanky player with messed up bleached hair matted down his forehead, and sleepy eyes and puffy cheek pockets. “It’s like a crash course on the team.”

There’s a chorus of agreement from behind them, someone hoots, and someone claps. I catch Younghyun from the corner of my eye, observing me from a distance. There’s a good solid defence of at least six guys between us, but I can feel his eyes on me as though we were standing face to face. It’s unsettling what he might be thinking about me. I do my best to ignore him and return my attention to the matter at hand.

Sungjin seems to be turning the idea over in his head, and it gives me an opportunity to study his dark sooty lashes. They seem so soft and out of place on a hockey player. My name on his lips sends a shiver right up my scalp. “The team, well most of us anyway, are going to be at Papa Tuan’s tonight. Would you like to join us?”

***

“It’s not a date.”

I’ve lost count how many times I’ve said this, Jimin and Yerin don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore. The reminder is more for my sake than theirs, as they’ve taken no time at all feeling sorry for me and making fun of my new assignment. They also took no time inviting themselves with me even though none of us have ever been to Papa Tuan’s before. Or maybe precisely because none of us have ever been here before. My friends are both considered the artsy types, half the world I consider myself a part of. They’re far more multifaceted than just arts students—Yerin is in the linguistics and sociology department and Jimin is in multimedia arts—but their happy place is with the arts crowd. Papa Tuan’s, with its infamous reputation, is not an arts crowd local haunt.

Papa Tuan’s is a small bar fifteen minutes away from the university. Some say it used to be a sleazy bar before it went under and was bought then rebranded. Others say it was a literal hole in the wall before the pace was built. No one knows for sure. What matters is that it’s the kind of place the hockey team goes to. The upper floor is a karaoke room and the surrounding establishments are various grills and chicken and beer places. Outside, you can find an assortment of buskers. Naturally, it’s the busiest place in town.

“Still so weird you’re into jocks,” Jimin teases, eyeing me playfully just as we enter the bar. “It’s weird. I mean, I’m glad you’re crushing on someone. It’s been ages. But, really? A jock?”

I’m not. Technically, it’s just the one jock I’m interested in and it’s not even by choice. And it hasn’t been ages. “I told you it’s not like that.” Though I’m sticking to my cover story that I am so totally not crushing on a jock, I can’t help but feel like I should be defending Sungjin. He’s not like other jocks, I want to say. He’s different. Sungjin is not like, for example, Younghyun. “It’s not a date.”

Yerin laughs. “No one’s saying it’s a date. You’re the only one saying it’s a date. It’s cute but it’s also pathetic at the same time. Whatever happened to avoiding guys like that on principle?”

“That’s what I’m saying. It’s not like he asked me out.” Hence, my freakout over my freaking out. “It’s for my film project with Han Gain. The one vital step before, you know, the real deal internship I’ve been working for since high school.”

“Almost makes you think Han Gain’s got something against you,” Yerin comments, digging into her purse for her ID. The guy at the front doesn’t even ask for it, he just lets us through passively waving us through the dim corridor. “Do you think she did that on purpose? Giving you this topic specifically?”

Right. This is why they say the first rule about Papa Tuan’s is that you don’t talk about Papa Tuan’s.

“We picked out the topic from a box. She couldn’t have known what I’d get. Why would she have anything against me?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

“Uh.” Jimin stabs me with a “duh” look. “Maybe because you’re like Han Gain 2.0.”

Stubborn, focused, likes to keep the hands and brain busy, if only to better cope with things beyond our control. The first time I came into the professor’s office for advising, I knew we were meant to be. Professor Han knew it, too. I learned from her it’s okay to be like this, driven and impatient. Although sometimes I wish I don’t feel like have to prove myself every damn time.

A part of me understands that Professor Gain threw in hockey because I’m pretty certain none of us in that group cared about sports. Whoever got the topic would be out of their comfort zone. All of us would have gotten something we wouldn’t automatically know how to sell. Unfortunately, woe is me.

The music swells around us, a mix of electronic and rock, and it’s pretty good.  Nothing at all like the manufactured dance beats you get pre-installed on a laptop or an app. Whoever the DJ is, they have my support and admiration. This might even be enough to get us all dancing.

I crane my head looking for the hockey team. The place is packed with, as far as I can tell, students. Jimin and Yerin wave at a couple of people they recognise from their departments, and I find a few familiar faces as well. I’m also pretty sure the group of boys by the bar are freshmen.

The only person I’m really interested in seeing tonight is Sungjin, but I can’t let Jimin and Yerin get even the slightest hint that I’m into him. Not until I can figure out how to justify crushing on him this badly. Maybe if they meet him, they’ll understand what makes him special. He’s not a stereotypical jock, whatever that means. He’s not Younghyun.

Speak of the devil and he appears.

Younghyun shows up the second I think about him, and it’s a curse I tell you. I duck my head hoping I’ll blend into the walls and the shadows. He hasn’t seen me yet, walking through the crowd with what I can only call a swagger. Every step he takes, the crowd makes enough room for him to saunter toward the bar. He looks determined. But determined to do what? As soon as he gets to the bar, he throws an arm around a girl, annoying the hell out of the guy who, I guess has been trying to flirt with said girl. Maybe even the girl’s date or boyfriend or whatever.

Am I watching a scene from a movie right now?

Is this really the role Younghyun chooses to play every single time he’s given a chance?

Younghyun doesn’t even seem the least bit fazed. Apparently, he has no conscience whatsoever and therefore no qualms stealing someone else’s girl. Just because he can. Eventually the other guy gives up and angrily walks away. The girl turns around, and it’s June with a basket of chicken in her hands. They walk back to the other end of the room, Younghyun keeping a protective hand on the small of her back.

What the fuck did I just witness?

“Did you find them yet?” Jimin asks over the music.

“Yeah, I think I know where they are,” I answer. “Are you coming with me?”

“Hell, yeah,” Yerin says, “I won’t miss this for the world. Also you might need back up. Where to?”

This should be fun. I lead the way toward the direction I saw Younghyun and June disappear to, hoping I’m not intruding on whatever. The hockey team, some of them anyway, are occupying two booths at the far corner with one set of benches built against an exposed brick wall. June is greeted back with a hero’s welcome and she plants the basket of chicken right in the middle of the table. Younghyun slides into the booth and she sits next to him; Younghyun has to squeeze himself against another teammate and extends his arm on the backrest around her shoulders to make space for her.

I wave at them. That part I’m not sure what possessed me to do, but I wave hi like something has taken over my brain, and my brain did the thing where it commands your muscles to move. Younghyun smirks when he sees me, but it’s Jae who acknowledges my presence.

“Hey!” He’s at the very end of the booth, across Younghyun. “You made it. Grab a chair. Anywhere is fine.”

Sungjin, who had his back turned to me twists in his seat and stands up before I can say anything. “I’ll get you a chair.”

Once the seating arrangements are taken care of, an awkward silence follows. Jimin and Yerin are sitting at nearby table while I join Sungjin and the others who have pushed the tables together. I’m sitting at the free end, which was nice. Made me feel safe enough to make an exit if anything feels weird or uncomfortable. I have a feeling Sungjin did that on purpose. But so far, all I’m feeling is intrigue.

“Are we starting now? Is this it?” someone asks, Wonpil I think. I spent the rest of the afternoon obsessing over memorising as many names and faces as possible.

“This is all off the record,” I tell them, feeling self-conscious. “Tonight, at least. Let’s just say this is session zero.”

“So what’s the video about?” Jae asks, reaching for a piece of chicken. He’s wearing a pair of too large glasses on his face and it makes him look like that one character from that movie. Definitely not jock-like, whatever that means. Even I am beginning to question the stereotype. Now that’s a good beat to follow up on.

“I don’t know yet,” I admit. “That’s something I’ll have to figure out along the way. In the meantime I’ll be asking questions and stuff, follow you around, see if there’s anything specific that needs highlighting. Whatever is most interesting.”

“What kind of questions should we be expecting?” Sungjin asks, clearing the table of rubbish and putting them in a pile on top of a used plate.

“Questions,” I answer vaguely. I keep my tone casual. Cool. “Could get personal. Serious stuff.” Maybe if I ask the right questions I’ll finally find a good beat to go with. Something about what gives this sport a heart, something about what makes this team a team. I’m sure I’ll find something that doesn’t sound like a cheesy sports movie.

Sungjin smiles, the kind that’s sunny and all teeth. “Sounds reasonable. You’ll want him, for sure.” He points at Younghyun who answers with a slow, sensuous grin.

“Everyone gets equal opportunities,” I answer, trying not to look at Younghyun too much. It hasn’t skipped my mind that Younghyun may as well be the face of the team. As much as it pains me to admit, I will be interviewing him too. I’ll be getting to know Kang Younghyun, whether I like it or not. “It’s not just any video, it’s my ticket to this huge internship.” I don’t know why I said that. It’s not like these boys are going to care about what I do with the video.

I didn’t want to get into movies or even investigative journalism for a reason. I want to tell a different kind of story other than those told through fiction, and I don’t want to cover war or politics because it gets too real. That’s why the internship is so important. It leads me to where I want to go. It matters to me that I care about what I work on. And this is something I’ve worked hard to prove I’m good at. This video project? It’s better if I care. I can stitch together footage, I can make a story, and I’m good at what I do, but it won’t mean anything unless I care.

I need to care about hockey, somehow.

Younghyun’s gaze flickers to Sungjin for a split second, and I’m ready to neither confirm nor deny whatever he’s about to throw at me. We stare at each other for a couple more beats before he turns away to laugh at something someone on the other end said.

“Can we get a copy of the video?” Jae asks, leaning over and pushing someone out of the way.

“I’m sure it will be up on the internet somewhere,” I tell him, still shaken from Younghyun’s prodding. “But sure, that’s not a problem.”

“Any footage of me, really,” Jae adds.

Sungjin laughs next to me.

“I’m serious,” Jae explains, “it’s for my vlog, ain’t that right, Sunshine?”

June leans back and tilts her head in response. Her face is stone-cold as ever. “How much more footage of yourself do you need?”

“Well,” Jae inclines his head, “I’d have enough if you kept the focus on me through last season’s games.”

June’s lips quirk, but only the slightest. Her lips part in a…something. I think it’s a laugh. It’s a little chuckle that makes it look like she’s amused but I could be wrong. “You’re not the only player on the team.”

“There’s no I in team, but at least attempt to not play favourites,” Jae laughs, gesturing vaguely at Younghyun. “You’re too obvi, Sunshine.”

“Or I could just be better than you,” Younghyun cuts in.

Laughter breaks across the table but I don’t have enough context to laugh with them. I turn to Sungjin who just shrugs at me. We spend the rest of the night like this, me attaching names to faces and stories and just generally having more fun than I expected. Even Jimin and Yerin seem to be enjoying themselves, and later in the night have found themselves dancing with some of the guys in one big circle. I stay behind in the booth with Sungjin and we talk about what else needs to be done with and for the video. He grants me access to practice and games, and gives me tips how to get to know the sport better. We call an early night and leave far before closing.

“Do you live far from here?” Sungjin asks as the brisk outside air greets us.

“About fifteen minutes,” I answer, feeling my face grow warm. I point at the general direction of our building.

“We’ll walk you,” Sungjin offers, and I don’t really try to stop him. By we, he means him, Jae, Wonpil, and Dowoon.

Younghyun and June walk in the opposite direction.

Chapter Text

Some nights I have no choice but to stay at the library, so here I am now reading up on hockey, watching online videos for the sports-illiterate, and looking at the team’s previous games.  It’s not often I come here and stay late as Yerin and I have an official favorite coffee shop—Khunfections—where we study and work on our papers. True, I can easily explain to Yerin that I’m doing the necessary review of related literature, hence my current state, but I don’t trust myself not to reveal a more personal investment in the matter.

Also, I won’t know how to explain why it’s relevant that I’m reading three thousand words of a coffee shop AU of the hockey team. The one where Jaehyung doesn’t really like coffee but Wonpil just really likes the ambiance.

In any case, I love the library after hours. I love the emptiness after all the other students have given up and gone home to bed or wherever it is they went to after studying until their brains shrivelled into little pink worms one poke away from turning into mush. I like the quiet isolation, the peace and the solace of being undisturbed.

In other words, I like being Kang Younghyun free.

I haven’t seen the team since the other night, I was busy with class and they didn’t have anything else planned in the meantime. They have practice the day after tomorrow, so that’s when my first real day on the job will commence. I can’t wait to see Sungjin again. 

I still can’t believe Sungjin offered to walk us home. What a gentleman. I could barely speak three sentences to the guy, but he carried conversation well by himself. Mostly, he talked about hockey and the season, and mostly I didn’t understand the technical parts of what he was saying, but at least he was talking. He didn’t think I was boring or anything. The fact that he tried to keep up the conversation counts for something, right?

I pull up the official photos and scroll through the team. My cursor hovers over Younghyun’s face and I feel this indescribable urge to draw a moustache over his face. And a pointy beard. Maybe some horns. A tail. An unflattering hairy mole.

Nobody mentioned Younghyun or June on the walk home, or perhaps no one mentioned them in our company. The part of me that’s all investigative journo wanted to pry but it wouldn’t have been polite. With the way no one seemed to think it out of place, is it safe to assume it’s a regular occurrence?

What a cliche, the star of the hockey team is a total character straight off of his own fan fiction. He’s living the college superstar life doing what he wants with whomever he wants.

I don’t care.

I click save on his picture and pull up the annotations tab to draw on his face.

A loud yawn breaks through the silence and, startled, I look up and around the library and find Kang Younghyun getting up from a study carrel. Our eyes meet.

Oh, shit.

In a panic, I hurry to snap my laptop shut. Why did I do that? I don’t know. Let’s just call it the Kang Younghyun Effect, where one’s natural instinct is to run to the opposite direction and hide away. I glare at him.

“Are you watching porn?” he laughs.

I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him. “Don’t be gross.”

“Hey!” He raises his hands in surrender. “No judgment from me.”

“What are you even doing here?”

He lifts his books and notes as evidence. “Studying, what else? You think my classes just ace themselves?”

Honestly, I operated under the assumption that professors cut him more slack than he’s worth by virtue of him being the team’s top scorer. Our university is known for a lot of things, and hockey just happens to be one of them. Younghyun is a valuable addition to the university’s reputation, and it is in the administration’s best interest to keep him around. 

According to their official profiles, Younghyun is a business and economics major which, to be quite honest, tells me absolutely nothing about him. After sliding his books and notes into his backpack, he comes over, stretching his arms over his head and my eyes are immediately draw to the hem of his shirt riding up and revealing a flash of skin. When I tear my eyes away and look back up to him, he’s already smirking at me.

This is why I avoided that one fic that said: You and Younghyun are stuck in the library one rainy night…and the unexpected happens. It’s rated Explicit and I don’t happen to have a vat of bleach on hand right now.

He drops into the seat across me. “You done with the readings for tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

Is there a curse for never sounding like an intelligent person in front of jocks? Is it a disease one contracts in university? Should someone be conducting a study on this and be calling out a national epidemic?

“For Philo. We have three chapters or something.”

“Oh.” Of course. That. He’s in my Philo class. “Yeah.” Sort of. Kind of. Ish. I read through the chapters. Did I absorb anything? I surely hope so because my mind is consumed by this video project.

Younghyun just nods, says nothing more, and pulls his books and notes back out and continues studying. It’s an image that throws me off entirely because never in this lifetime did I think I would see the object of every other student’s fantasy studying so close to me. Like this, he almost looks like a regular student. Also, what do you know, Younghyun chews at the sides of his wooden pencil.

It’s not cute, exactly.

It’s just…something.

Something so close to having a personality and I don’t think I’m ready for that.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Younghyun doesn’t look up from his reading. “What are you doing?” he mimics. “What does it look like I’m doing. What are you doing?”

I snap my mouth shut and open my laptop again, careful not to let him see anything even if he’s right across me and can’t possibly see what’s on my screen. Still, I’m not about to take any chances. I minimize the window with his face and the window with the coffee shop AU, and open up the extra readings I picked up for my environmental law seminar class.

But I can’t focus when Kang Younghyun is right in front of me playing that scientific calculator like a musical instrument.

“Are you cramming for something?” I ask. I’m not about to leave first because I was here first. Leaving first feels like admitting defeat, and I refuse to let Younghyun win this…whatever this is.

“Who isn’t?” came his easy reply.

“Don’t you have a frosh or something doing your homework for you?” He already has a frosh doing his bidding, why not someone to do his homework? I’m sure Sungjin doesn’t have freshmen bringing him his hockey equipment to the rink for him.

He laughs.

I hate how his laugh sounds so…annoying.

Younghyun pins me with a serious gaze, similar to the scrutinising look he gave me at Papa Tuan’s. Then he looks up and waves at someone behind me. “Hey, Sungjin!”

I look behind me.

And nothing.

Damn it.

Fuck.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Younghyun grins at me when I turn back to him. “You have a crush on Cap.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement he’s proven based on evidence he’s gathered in, what, two days?

I begin randomly typing letters on my keyboard. Never mind that I don’t even have a word processor open or that I’m not actually typing known words in any language. He can’t see what I’m doing. As far as he knows, I’m a very busy woman. “Don’t you have better things to do than involve yourself in my personal life?”

“You’re not denying it,” he quips, “You got it bad for Captain Sungjin.”

“I neither deny nor confirm your claims.” Click-clack, goes my keyboard. Thump-Thump-Thump goes my heart.

He rests his pencil behind his ear. “So you do like him.”

“I like pasta too, you know.”

“I can’t believe you’re into him,” he teases, unable to keep the delight off his voice. “Actually, yes I can. You’re into him.”

“You know what,” I snap, “if it helps you sleep better at night, have at it then.”

But inside, I’m shaking. How the fuck did Kang Younghyun read that? Did he just randomly pick out a name? Did he cold read me? Was I that obvious? Moreover, how did I not see that in my initial read of him? Kang Younghyun is more a mystery than ever, and I don’t like it. I don’t like mysteries because I love mysteries.

I can’t stay away from mysteries.

Pulling myself together, I settle my gaze at him to regain some semblance of control. Just so he doesn’t think he’s gained the upper hand. I force myself to lean back in my seat, refusing to let him see how much he’s riled me up.

That’s when I notice a deep purple discolouration just beneath the neckline of his shirt. I gesture at the same spot on my shoulder. “What happened to you?”

Duh.

Hockey.

Hockey happened to him, obviously. But it’s not like I can take back the question so I just go with it. Like a fool. Wasn’t I just watching Younghyun take several tackles to the board and to the ice? He has a target on his face, and every other team they’re up against has made it a side quest to see who can knock him out first. I’m surprised, and lowkey impressed, he’s still standing after all that physical bashing.

Though to be fair, him being a target is just like regular life, but with less physical violence.

“Oh, this?” Younghyun calmly takes the segue and tugs at the collar of his shirt, affording me a good view of his defined collarbones and a bruise spanning his shoulder. An aside, the action had inadvertently flexed his biceps, and I’m almost convinced he’s doing that on purpose.

Show off.

Unfortunately for me now that I’ve noticed it, I can’t un-notice it. 

“Yes,” I sigh. It’s an ugly bruise that looks fresh and tender. I can’t help but feel it on me even though I’ve never once in my life been tackled. Or even hurt that badly. I can’t possibly imagine how it feels like but I feel a void swirl uncomfortably in my gut. “That.”

“BM bulldozed me right into the glass,” he says matter-of-factly. Like it was nothing. Just another regular day on the ice.

“BM?”

“Matthew Kim?”

Oh. Right. Someone on their team. A defenseman, I think. “Practice game?”

He nods like the bruises are nothing and goes back to his homework. Every once in a while though, I catch him glancing at me with that light in his eyes. I ignore best as I can, but I can only take so much because now my concentration is shot.

“What is it now?” I ask, unable to mask the exasperation in my voice.

A grin breaks on his face. “So do you, like, want to date him or do you just want to, you know…” he asks curiously.

I can pretend to not know who he’s talking about but that will only prolong this conversation. “No, I don’t think I do know.”

He shrugs, and oh-so-very casually asks, “Do you want to date him or do you want to fuck him?”

I splutter out a response that I’m sure has more expletives were I able to form the words.  The nerve of this guy. But, of course. What did I expect? 

“Oh,” he says, unfazed, “That’s right. You don’t do casual.”

God save me from Kang Younghyun. I call on what limited patience I have at my disposal and take a deep, deep, deep calming breath. I inhale big through my nose and hold my breath for eight counts before releasing it slowly through my mouth. “Are we done here? I can just leave if you want me to leave.”

“Actually, there is something.”

Here it is. Here’s the punchline. This is where he makes some vulgar remark and I will have no choice but to slap him with my binder. God, please. Give me a good enough reason to slap that beautiful face with my binder. Just once, please.

“About the video you’re making,” he begins, “I’ll answer all your questions. Honestly. I’ll be as open as you want me to be. I’ll throw in some stuff no one’s ever heard of or written about in articles before. Fuck, I’ll even explain hockey to you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“I want a copy of my footage too. The final video and everything you have of me.”

It’s too reasonable. Therefore, it’s too good to be true. “What do you really want? More screen time?” Is this what the June business is about? If so, then I don’t have time for any of Younghyun’s attempts at hogging the spotlight.

“I just want your videos. Whatever story you dig up.”

“Just my videos?”

“Just your videos.” And the vulnerability he’s radiating is slightly unsettling. I haven’t known him long, but I’ve gotten used to his confidence and his vexing. The uncertainty on his face seems out of place.

“Forgive me if I’m disinclined to believe you. I don’t trust your face, you see. So, no deal. I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want from me.”

He nods. “That’s fair. You and Sungjin.”

I hate the way he says it. “What now?”

“Are you going to ask him out?”

I take a moment to let the alarm rippling through me to subside. Now that someone  has said it out loud, the words ring in my ears. “No. Also, that’s none of your business.”

“I thought you said you’re into him?”

“You said that. I didn’t.” Semantics. “Besides, I don’t really know him that well.” Probably a terrible excuse. Even I know the whole point of asking someone out was to get to know them better.

“Are you scared?”

Yes. “No.”

“Are you waiting for him to ask you out first?”

Yes. “No.”

I can’t read him all of a sudden, and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this information. Now that Younghyun has broken free of the convenient box I pigeonholed him into, I don’t know how to deal with him. He could say anything, do anything, and I won’t have a choice but to just accept it. Accept that this is who he is, and that worries me? Not knowing what happens next makes me nervous.

“Do you want him to?”

Yes, but I don’t answer that question. “Look, if you want your footage, fine. But I won’t be giving you any special attention.”

I don’t know what he’s thinking behind those serious eyes. “I want a separate video. I want my own tape.”

“No.”

“I can get Sungjin to want you.”

That gives me pause simply from the audacity of the statement. I laugh in his face. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Shit. He’s serious.

Am I considering this ridiculous offer? For all I know he’s playing me right into another punchline and I’m the one who will pay for this in the end. I can’t trust him. And yet Younghyun’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s been looking me in the eye from the start and either he’s a professional conman or he’s being absolutely honest.

“What’s the video for?” I admit, this has got the gears in my head turning. I know what this could mean for me and my project as well. The questions from Younghyun’s honesty and vulnerability will open up a new level of storytelling for me. Something short of exploiting the soft, warm, mushy beating heart of this sport and this team.

“I have my reasons,” he says. “Do we have a deal?”

It won’t even be that hard to edit him his own ten-minute special. I can probably even do it in my sleep. “Email me a proposal.”

Younghyun shoots his hand out.

Against my better judgement, I take his hand. We shake on it.

Chapter Text

When people ask what I consider to be my best trait, I tell them I pride myself in having a good head over my shoulders. But after that conversation with Kang Younghyun, suddenly I’m not so sure anymore. At the library, I had all the chances to walk away from him. I could have just told him to fuck off and leave me alone and keep it professional between us. But I didn’t. Not only did I lose sleep over that careless, and admittedly self-serving deal with the devil himself—granted, when are deals with the devil ever not selfish and self-destructive—I also, apparently, have signed up for a lifetime of constant shame and regret.

All because he dangled Sungjin in front of me like a carrot.

Kang Younghyun brought me Pandora’s Box, and all that’s left inside it is the most destructive force known to mankind: hope. For a fleeting moment, Younghyun offered me hope that Sungjin might notice me. Hope, that Sungjin might want me in the same way I want him. Hope, that Sungjin might give my life a beating heart and a story worth telling.

The only story people are going to see here is the urban documentary of the poor university student, besotted and in despair. Slow, dramatic pan, and zoom in to the lonely, lonely, girl, sitting in an artsy cafe with all common sense lost, face to face with her natural predator: love.

Lights.

Camera.

Action.

Someone drops into the seat across me. “Is that supposed to be your thinking face or do you just need to go poop or something?”

Screw that. My natural predator, the ultimate thorn in my side, is Kang Younghyun.

“Why are you here?”

He shakes his head and tsks patronisingly at me. Spreading his arms wide, he says. “This is a coffee shop, is it not? It is an establishment open to its paying customers. Also you asked so nicely, so here I am.”

Oh, right. This is my fault.

In the name of transparency, I did not ask him to be here. I simply volunteered a time and place where I am likely to be found should he have time to waste over the course of the afternoon. Somewhere not my usual haunt. Somewhere I know my friends and social circle are not going to accidentally walk into and see us together. Somewhere far enough from prying eyes. Somewhere safe.

So here we are.

I snap my binder shut just in case I find a good enough excuse to bash it over his head. “You sent me three whole pages for your business proposal.”

I woke up this morning to a bunch of email and message notifications as usual, nothing new there, but one sender stood out most of all. Lo and behold, sitting pretty in my inbox was the subject line: Out of Your League? UNLOCK Your Full Potential—The HUNT Begins. I know I told him to send me his proposal. Did I think he would take it seriously? Who does that, even? I was ready to junk it until I confirmed who it was from and then I knew I really had to drag that thing all the way to the garbage bin. But did I do that? No. Because in this line of work I am dedicating my life to, knowledge is power.

So, yeah.

I read it. All three whole pages of Kang Younghyun’s proposal.

Rating and review to follow.

“I’m a business and economics major,” he states like I already don’t know that. “In case you missed that. I’m very thorough.” Then he takes a long sip of his iced americano.

The word thorough coming from his mouth sounds dangerous somehow. Almost sexual, but there’s nothing overtly or even subtly sexual about that word or that line at all that thing he just did. It’s all pretty copacetic and benign and this is just another day in school but…how?

“The conversation was last night. How…? When did you even have time write that up? You emailed me the thing this morning. How’d you even get my email?”

The timestamp was at 4:38am. 

“First of all.” He ticks a finger for each point he makes. “Sleep is for the weak. Second of all, time is of the essence. And third, I got your email from Sunshine.”

Ah, June. Of course, what else did I expect?

“So I read through it.”

Leaning back into his seat, his mouth quirks into a grin. Like he already knew I read it. “And?”

I straighten up in my chair. “You still didn’t tell me what you need your footage for. You gave me objectives and a development strategy and your deliverables, but not what you want this for.”

“I’m trying to be mysterious,” he teases, tilting his head with his eyes all sparkly and whatever. “Is it working?”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“How do you think I survive through this life?” He laughs. He laughs with his whole body, I’m afraid he might fall off is chair. “This degree? You think those papers write themselves?”

That does me in and I laugh and wheeze into my hands despite myself. Younghyun looks rather proud of himself, and well, I can’t begrudge him that. He earned it. I mean I hate that he made me laugh but he earned it.

“You ready to do this shit?” he says once I calm down. His tone is…soft. Unsettlingly soft and considerate?

“Huh?”

Younghyun pulls out a notebook and his tablet from his backpack. “If you’re gonna start filming tomorrow, you should at least have a basic understanding of what’s happening on the ice.”

I can’t deal with the sudden serious business tone because I refuse to take Younghyun as anything but an egghead with a stick on the ice. “You chase a puck with a stick. What’s there to understand.”

Younghyun clutches his chest in mock pain like I stabbed him in the heart. And he’s back. I’m thinking I should have just stabbed him for real if he insists on being such a drama queen. “Is that really all that you think we do?”

My main problem here isn’t that he’s not offended by what I just said. My main problem is that he knows I’m being facetious and he’s being facetious right back to my face. For fun. As though he understands that to make this work, this is how it works.

He gets up from his seat and transfers to the chair next to me, dragging the chair all the way next to me, we’re not even inches away. If he breathes any deeper, his jacket will rustle against my sweater. “Eyes on the screen, not on me.”

My fingers curl over my fork resting next to my yet to be demolished cake. “I am going to stab you with this fork and I will feel no remorse.”

“Too bad I’m your ticket to ride…-ing the man of your dreams.”

“I really will stab you. Like right now.”

He laughs, leaning over and curling around me to take the fork from my hand. Younghyun’s fingers graze against mine, and they’re quintessential boy hands, roughhewn and calloused. The move also presses his shoulder against me, and I did not need to know the solid feel and heat of him through his white shirt and black jacket. I look up, and of course he’s looking at me, watching me.

I wait for him to say something off bounds. Something scandalous for scandal’s sake. Anything.

And what he says is absolutely surprising and revealing and frustrating.

“So I think we should go over the basics first,” he says, maddeningly smooth and confident. Angled toward me, he rests his wrist over his knee closest to me, while the other one he uses to draw and write on his notebook. “Run through the main rules, important points, penalties, and how a play works.”

Younghyun explains everything in an articulate and organised manner, comprehensive without being overwhelming. Unless we’re talking about Younghyun himself because, yes he’s rather overwhelming at the moment with his obvious and palpable passion for the sport. There’s genuine love there. Like he’s found meaning in life through hockey. I don’t know what surprises me more, that he’s really into it for more than the adrenaline or the superstardom or that I’m finding myself just as into it as he is.

In the course of the forty or so minutes he talks about the game, his hand has found its way to settle on the backrest of my chair, half-caging me into him. Oddly enough, I only mind because it’s distracting me from what he’s saying and I’m supposed to be paying attention because we’re watching this video about…what again?

“So maybe if you’re filming this, you’re gonna need a tripod or some stabiliser?”

I make some noncommittal noise from the back of my throat. “Uh-huh.”

And there it is, that slow curve of one corner of his mouth. “Uh-huh?”

What?

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles softly to himself and pulls up another video of one of the team’s previous games. While scrubbing through, he then proceeds to talk about their team record and I’m sure this is important and relevant information but why does Kang Younghyun smell like manly man? Something woodsy and fragrant and warm. Manly isn’t even a good enough word for it, but you know how my intellect drains when I’m around jocks? Yeah, that.

Clearly, I’ve been infected with some form of brain rot.

And I need to get out.

“You think you got all that?” Younghyun’s gaze shifts toward my face and catches my eyes. The worst part about this is that he’s earnest, at least for this part of the conversation, about introducing me to the sport and the team. If he were joking around, this would be far less confusing.

But, of course, it’s not that easy or simple or straightforward.

Because he’s Kang Younghyun.

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks, I think.”

I didn’t think I’d be getting all this from Younghyun on the first day. I’m not closing the book on him just yet simply because he has the capacity to be a decent human being for half an hour. Knowing what I know of Younghyun, this is just one more layer to him that I should know better than to take at face value. One more entry into my mental dossier on him, is what I take home from here.

“Any questions?”

Normally, I would have a few. This moment does not count as regular programming, as we all can tell. “No, I think I got the gist of it. I’ll save the questions for tomorrow. You know, for the first official day of filming. And things.”

There it is again, that shift in his eyes that goes from soft and serious to cocky and teasing. “Things like Cap—”

I slap my hand over his mouth. “You be quiet!”

Younghyun doesn’t even hold back laughing into my hand.

“Don’t say that out loud!” Because if he says it out loud, it’s over for me.

His reply is muffled in my hand but I don’t care. I think he said something like “Say what?”

“Say his name out loud,” I hiss. “Just don’t. Do this for me, okay? Just be quiet and don’t say his name out loud.”

When I’m sure my words sink into him I let him go, letting my hand hover his mouth for a moment making sure he won’t do something utterly juvenile and yell out Sungjin’s name when he thinks my guard is down.

My guard is never down.

His eyes twinkle with amusement. “That’s no fun.”

“Nothing about this is fun.”

“Some things about this is fun.”

Ignoring the tingling in my palm, I draw it back and hold it against my lap. So we’ve come to this. We’ve talked about him, sort of, now we talk about me, kind of. All of a sudden, I feel vulnerable and exposed and I have nothing to shield myself with but my binder and, honestly, what good would that do to me?

There it is again, that spark of hope Younghyun dangled in front of my face. He’s not even saying it yet—he barely hinted at it—but my heart is thumping. “Whatever it is you’re planning, you better believe I will inflict physical pain upon you if all this goes to the gutter.”

“I sent you a whole three pages.”

“I know,” I snap, “But I also don’t trust you.”

“Smart.”

Does Younghyun look impressed?

I think he does.

I smile sweetly at him. “You know I have the power to destroy you, don’t you?”

The power under my fingertips is no joke. I am not beyond passive-aggressive black propaganda if the situation calls for it. The moment my safety is threatened, it’s over. Kang Younghyun is going down.

But let’s hope it doesn’t get to that, I like being a kind, generous, loving person.

The grin on his face is absolutely…brilliant. “Saying such things on the first date, you are a dangerous woman.”

I don’t like the thrill that rushes up my spine because I like it. But obviously I like it because when was the last time I’ve had any sort of stimulating conversation? Intellectually stimulating conversation, I mean.

“I’m harmless.” I bat my lashes at him.

“You’re dangerous.”

“Let me guess.” I go over his proposal in my head and try not to laugh and the absurdity of it all. “If I pretend to date you, my reputation will suddenly spike off the charts and every other guy will want to date me as well, him included.”

“Your reputation really will, though,” he answers feigning thoughtfulness. “But no, your Mr. Daydream won’t fall for that. He’s a little more complex than that. A little more, how should I say it…” He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “A little more dignified than that.”

My pulse quickens and I feel a little dizzy. “And here I thought all you needed to do was take me as your date to a party and I’m suddenly an instant celebrity.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m happy in the bed I lie in, thank you.”

So the word bed just came up. Shoot me. It’s been a while, okay. 

Younghyun, though, picks up on it because of course he would. “Don’t worry about our approach to hunting down your man.”

“Don’t use the word hunt.”

“It’s what it is,” he insists, “it’s a hunt. Just trust me.”

“I trust you about as much as I trust a bloodthirsty vampire.”

Heavens above, Younghyun bares his teeth at me. “Like I wrote in my proposal, it will be a slow, organic, bottom-up development. You’ll showcase your strengths, and I’ll make sure he notices.”

“You really think he’ll notice me.” There it is again, that’s blip of hope.

“I’ll make him notice you.”

Those words do something in me that I can’t even begin to explain. Being under Younghyun’s mercy like this is both jumping off a cliff and into the ocean without a life vest and knowing at the same time that’s kind of the point of hiking all the way up the peak in the first place.

“You’re not gonna give me a makeover, are you?”

Younghyun’s eyes trace a slow path down my hair, my eyes, my nose, my mouth, down my body all the way to my sneakers and up again like I’m not wearing a hoodie and jeans. He looks at me like I’m like nothing he’s ever seen before. Slowly, he withdraws from my personal space, gathers his things along the way, and stands to his full height. “You don’t need one.”

And then he exits stage right.

“See you tomorrow,” he calls out without even looking back at me.

Dear God, please give Kang Younghyun a good pummelling on the ice tomorrow.

Chapter Text

I never thought there’s a god out there listening to my prayers, but oh my God?

Matthew Kim is a beast. He’s tall and he’s big and he’s strong and that’s the third time he’s slammed Younghyun into the plexi. He slams Younghyun into the glass so hard I feel it jar every bone in my body, but Younghyun just shrugs it off and is back on the ice like nothing happened. But I just know that’s going to leave a hell of a bruise.

A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Younghyun’s barely healed from the bruise on his shoulder. Another one like this, probably worse than the one before, is too much. How much does he love this game to willingly take this much beating?

Pain, however, doesn’t seem to affect him as he fearlessly zips through the ice and scores a goal for their side of the team. There’s a few seconds of celebration, guy cheer and fist bumps, before he’s back at it again, running himself into a scrimmage, the staccato of their sticks slapping against the ice echoing through the rink in a mad rush of energy. Everything happens so fast, I don’t think I breathed through the entire sequence.

Perhaps what’s ultimately bothering is that I hate that I can sense Younghyun’s laser focus from where I stand. The body language and the presence he exudes is nothing like the Younghyun who was with me at the library and at the coffee shop. Teasing, yes. Once or twice, I catch him grinning and waving his gloved hand at a white shirt. But as soon as the whistle blows and he’s got the puck, I’m almost convinced someone else is wearing his number. But there he is, jersey 19, in the dark red shirt. It just seems like him, to be what he is off the ice but something else—someone else—entirely on the ice.

When I zoom in on the other guys, all I see is a whirl of skates and sticks and heavy shinguards. I’m all the way up the bleachers with my camera on a tripod, filming from a safe distance, and even with this view I still can’t keep up with what’s happening. From the corner of my display frame, two guys ram into each other, the sound of it flat and loud, and I focus on them as one tumbles to the ice. Then there’s a tangle of arms and legs that gets sorted out quickly, and the guy who fell somehow manages to skate back into the bench where a teammate tends to him.

There’s a special spot right next to the glass, a down ice hole that gives me an eye-level dynamic view of the players and the action but I don’t think I’m quite ready for that position just yet. At least not right now when I don’t even know where I’m supposed to be looking or who I’m supposed to be watching.

One thing’s for sure, though.

I might just be a little way in over my head.

Coach Taec blows the whistle and calls the team forward to where he’s set up a dry-erase board on the ice. The boys huddle around, some of them standing, most of them kneeling, all of them listening intently while Coach Yubin stands at the other end and talks strategy and drills to them before they’re dismissed for the night. One of these days, I’m going to have to get a good shot of that but for now I pack up and make my way down to the middle of the bleachers where June sits with her homework spread on the level above where she sits.

Also today I learned: her choppy layered bob is dyed blue and grey.

I have never felt a girl crush this intense in my life.

Interspersed with her textbooks—biochemistry and molecular biology—is the team roster and a printout of their training and game schedules. For a good three seconds I’m thrown by this scientific discovery. Even more so when I spy a familiar form peeking through a folder.  One that shines a much needed light on who June is as a person, not just to the team but as a whole. And to me. Snap decision made. Scholarship kids hate me as soon as they find out who I am, but girls should stick together, and if making June my hockey best friend inadvertently provides me benefits then lucky me, I guess.

But to do that, I need to spend more than five seconds around her and exchange more than three sentences with her. I’m sure I’m not the only one drowning in the testosterone here. I haven’t been here more than two sessions and I’m feeling the fatigue. Don’t get me wrong, the view is amazing—thank you hockey gods—but sometimes a girl just needs a friend.

“Is it usually like this?” I ask when she looks up at me.

June glances at the rink from over her shoulder. “No one’s lost a tooth so, I guess it’s a good day,” she deadpans.

What.

I sink into a seat a few spaces away from her. “Are you being serious or is that a joke?”

The corner of her lips quirk just the slightest. “Did you need anything?”

I point my thumb at the inner rooms beyond the rink. “Need to take some establishing shots of the inside. Do you have a trophy room?” I realise that makes me sound like a total noob but there’s no point in pretending otherwise. “Or maybe a nice long hallway decked out in school spirit? Also a shot of the locker rooms. Empty, ideally. Or maybe with the team but, like, decent.”

As I’m saying all that, June is already piling her stuff into her bag. When she’s done, she gets up, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and hugs her textbooks protectively around her chest. “I’ll show you around.”

I follow her down the side and into the inner facility where—thank you hockey gods—there is indeed a hallway of school spirit and a trophy room. June is quiet, always placing herself out of my (and my camera’s) way, patiently waiting for me to take all the shots I need, back up included. Our conversation goes as follows:

Me: Asks for information.

June: Information is given in a brief but succinct manner.

Me: Says thank you and moves on.

Good talk.

It’s not until we’re walking down the tunnel toward the locker rooms that I figure I might as well take this opportunity for a preliminary interview. After all, June is as part of the team as any of the players are and her insight might offer me more in terms of the big picture than any of the boys.

Furthermore, the backdrop is compelling and the lighting isn’t completely horrible, and the acoustics should hold.

“Can you tell me what you do for the team?”

June freezes when I point the camera at her face, her eyes locking on the flashing red dot indicating we’re recording. Her whole body language is Red Alert: Panic Mode, and I don’t think she’s breathing. Oh, no. We have a camera-shy, likely socially anxious, introvert in the premises.

Thankfully, I hear the team shuffle into the tunnel in a chorus of voices and footfalls. Before I make things worse, I look around me for the closest player I can find to help with the situation. As I am a stranger, June will only reject any of my attempts at making her feel safe. She needs someone she can trust.

That someone—the closest team member within earshot—is none other than their team captain, Park Sungjin. To the rescue. Like some White Knight on his noble steed.

Sungjin steps into the frame and the atmosphere lifts as though he’s a ray of light slicing through the shadows. He stands before me like a hero, helmet tucked under his arm, stick and gloves in his hand, and an easy grin and sparkling eyes.

“As team captain, how do you feel about your team manager?” I fill in, hoping Sungjin can read the cry for help in my eyes.

He smiles bashfully into the camera and licks his lips nervously. “As team manager, June handles planning, logistics, communication, and everything else in between to make life easier for the team and the coaches.” He pauses with a tilt of his head and a thoughtful expression on his face. “And the captain. Definitely helps make life easier for the team captain, too.”

The captain’s sure and steady presence instantly knocks some sense back into June and her eyes flicker up at Sungjin. Then she steps away as if she doesn’t want to stand so close to him. Unlike me, who would lovingly bask under the warmth of the summer sun, June’s avoidance of him seems more visceral in nature, as though she wouldn’t dare fly so close in fear of melting the wax in her wings. June mutters some excuse and steps away from us to disappear into the chaos.

The sense of calm Sungjin brings affects me as well, and I focus on his face through my screen instead of directly at him. I widen the frame a bit to catch the background of his teammates filing into the locker rooms behind him. “Thanks for helping me just now. I should have known.”

Sungjin just laughs it off but shoots me a sympathetic look. “How could you have known that? Just give her some time and she’ll warm up to you.” After a beat he adds, “Eventually.”

I feel silly just smiling so much my cheeks hurt. “Can you tell me how you feel about today’s training session?”

Sungjin spares a beat before he speaks, but I’m too distracted by the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the way he keeps running his fingers through his hair. He talks with his hands and gestures in a manner that feels friendly. Like we’ve known each other a long time. I find myself smiling as he mentions the freshmen on the team and highlights their first year goaltender Yoon Dowoon.

Without needing my prompting, Sungjin then proceeds to tell me about how Coach Taec and Coach Yubin have been more experimental and collaborative with their plays, and he throws in a lot of words in a sequence that I’m sure will make sense to me when I watch the playback but right now it’s a delight watching him talk. I can listen to him talk all day. About anything. I don’t even care. Sungjin can read the menu and it’ll still be the best thing ever. He’s thoughtful with his words and is careful in his tone. It’s a no-brainer that he’s the team captain.

Through this, I remind myself to stay professional. If I can’t maintain a neutral, but welcoming and accepting, expression then I should at least try not to look like I have stars in my eyes. But I can’t help it. I should. But I can’t. I try to focus on the words instead, try to keep up with Sungjin has to say about today’s session and the season ahead. In my mind, I think about clever distractions to keep my head in the game.

That’s when I notice something behind Sungjin.

And there’s nothing I can do but keep rolling.

Younghyun is standing a few paces behind him, smiling and making faces at the camera, waving at me, mimicking Sungjin’s mannerisms and gestures. He’s laughing, clearly amused by his own antics. Younghyun starts shooting fingers guns at me, and I zoom in over Sungjin’s shoulder just enough to fully capture the moment.

No surprise, Jae, Wonpil, and even Dowoon all join in behind Sungjin. Some of the other team members start walking purposefully behind him, acting surprised at seeing a camera or staring straight at it with the weirdest faces. Jae walks backwards. Then does it again in the opposite direction, but this time flapping his arms. Wonpil passes by innocently at least four times. Dowoon just stands there next to Younghyun watching the other boys clown around and judging them.

As if that’s not enough, Younghyun starts poking the side of Sungjin’s head with his stick in a forced perspective angle. Every time Sungjin nods or jerks his head to the side, Younghyun times the movement perfectly so it looks like he’s hitting him repeatedly.

I hold back my laughter because it’s not right.

Because I don’t need nor want Kang Younghyun to think he’s funny.

“They’re doing something weird behind me aren’t they?” Sungjin asks. He doesn’t even have to look behind him. He just knows.

Hockey gods are chaotic neutral gods and no one can tell me otherwise.

I nod.

His jaw tightens playfully and he ticks his head to the side with a resigned sigh. “This is what I have to deal with.”

That makes me laugh harder than it should. I shut off recording and put my camera away. “Thanks again for that. I’ll schedule a full, proper, interview soon.”

“Is that it for today?”

“For now, yes.” Consciously, I tuck my hair back behind my ears. “But I’ll let you know when the next one is. It’s important to have a one-on-one with the key players. It helps to lessen the pressure of saying what they think is the right thing?”

“You mean so they can tell you all the dirt about me?”

“Why?” I narrow my gaze at him. “Is there any dirt about you?”

He just laughs. “Who knows what you’ll find if you dig around like that.”

I highly doubt that I’ll find anything scandalous about Park Sungjin. He’s exactly the kind of boy you introduce to your parents. He’s the kind of guy your parents introduce to you. He’s such a model student and athlete and…and I’m getting ahead of myself.

I clear my throat. “Sounds like you’re asking me to dig around.”

His eyes turn serious for a moment, but it’s still good-natured, almost self-deprecating to a degree. He points at the camera. “Well that’s what you’re here for, right?”

I get the feeling I will enjoy working with Sungjin. Not just because I like him, although that definitely plays into the equation. Professionally speaking, it’s because when he talks, he knows exactly what he’s talking about. Sungjin will have an answer to almost everything and will be ready and able to elaborate on salient points as though it’s his duty to talk about hockey and the team.

It’s such a joy to work like this because some days interviews get tedious when people talk and talk and talk but don’t communicate anything at all. It takes hours upon hours of going through enough footage to find something useful and by then I'm braindead. But then there are guys like Sungjin who has a spark in him and it shows when he speaks and it's just wonderful.

“Right,” I say, feeling both overwhelmed but at the same time parched for more. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you.”

We exchange see you laters and I watch him disappear into the locker rooms. I take some more shots of the now empty rink, the shadows cast on the hanging lights and the banners and the bleachers. I imagine what this all looks like filled with students cheering for the team. When the band starts playing the school song and the scoreboard lights up.

I circle around, hoping to find June so I can apologise to her for going guerrilla style on her. The last thing I want is to make anyone feel unsafe in my presence. I may be short of exploiting what heart I can find in this team and what story they have to tell, but that’s just work and work is work. Besides, I still need to interview her and a caged up subject does no one any good.

Instead, I find Younghyun leaning against the railing, his hockey bag dangling down his shoulder and his eyes transfixed on the ice but his thoughts are elsewhere. The vision of him standing there triggers a flurry of questions that have no words. It feels like such a personal moment that I can’t help but be curious. Day in and day out, is the ice all he can really think about?

Before I can second-guess myself into approaching him, June comes up from behind him and reaches for his hockey bag. Younghyun doesn’t laugh or make any of the expressions I’ve seen him do. He just tugs his bag back over his shoulder, fighting June for it, and ruffles the top of her head when she gives up. She slaps an ice pack onto his chest which he plants over his collar bone. They leave the rink together.

Of this, I am absolutely certain.

I was wrong about Younghyun, but I was right about him too.

Kang Younghyun is a mystery.

And he is one mystery I intend to unravel.

Chapter Text

The text message was short: Papa Tuan’s. Come now if free.

It’s Saturday evening and I’m at the dorm watching cheesy romantic comedies on my laptop when my phone pings with the message from Younghyun. I’m tempted to ignore it. Say I’m busy when he asks about it—and he really will ask about it—when we see each other again either during practice on Monday or class on Tuesday, but I also don’t want to risk it. I find that when it comes to Younghyun, it’s best to just give up and give in.

And to be honest, I have a really good feeling this is Sungjin related and that gets me up from my bed and into the bathroom to get ready for tonight. Yerin eyes me from the dining table as I walk out of the bathroom all dressed to go out. It’s really just a nice fitting sky blue pullover and my best pair of jeans, but Yerin and I don’t usually leave the room during the weekends unless it’s to the library or the convenience store.

“Where are you going?” She pauses her drama series and looks up from her laptop to raise a brow at me.

I rummage through my drawer to find my makeup kit. On one hand, I could lie and tell her I’m going somewhere else not Younghyun or Sungjin related, but on the other hand in case of an emergency my roommate needs to know where my last whereabouts are and who I’m with in case of an emergency. That’s the entire point of having a roommate and not living alone in these vulnerable and dangerous times. “Papa Tuan’s.” After a beat, I add, “Hockey stuff.”

“Mhm. And you’re putting on a full face of makeup for all the behind the scenes work. Because you want to look good for which end of the camera?” It’s not judginess in her tone. It’s teasing. Genuine curiosity too, but mostly teasing. “You’re not suddenly into jocks now, are you?”

No time like right now, but I hesitate about telling Yerin about Sungjin even if she’s already met him and thought of him as a good guy. “It’s not a full face,” I say instead. “It’s just tinted moisturiser and lip tint.” Okay maybe one or three swipes of mascara and some cheek tint too. But, like, really light and natural looking. Fresh, like I’ve got healthy blood pumping through my veins instead of coffee and instant ramyun.

“Hey,” she says, raising her palms in the air. “I’m not stopping you. Or judging you. I’m just asking. Inquiring minds need to know.”

I consider the question as I pick out exactly which shade of peach to use on my lips. Too light and it’s just another day at school, faking it until I make it. Too dark and it’s like I put a little extra effort showing up tonight. A healthy middle is always a good bet. The look that says, yeah this is just how I look like when I’ve had enough sleep and have had proper food and am not in zombie mode from drowning in my academic workload. They should really create a whole product line for that. With that name exactly.

“I don’t know,” I say eventually. Honesty is the best policy. “I kinda just want to look pretty.”

“Fair enough,” Yerin answers, pulling her knee up to rest her chin on. “You sure you don’t want to wear that top we got from the mall last summer? The white and pink color blocked knit sweater.”

“You don’t think that makes me look too sweet and innocent?”

“Why,” Yerin asks, “What look are we going for?”

I have no idea because Kang Younghyun did not think it would be pertinent information to be shared. All he said was…

Well he didn’t exactly say anything.

More like he just looked at me.

Suddenly I have this urge to destroy something.

Preferably Kang Younghyun’s face.

Kang Younghyun is so annoying.

Even his name and the way it rolls off the tongue is annoying.

“You okay?” Yerin asks when I don’t answer for a full minute.

“Yes,” I tell her, finally picking out a nude lippie instead. “I just had a thirty-second existential crisis because I’m not sure what I want to look like tonight, so I guess I’ll just go as myself.”

“You’re perfect the way you are, babe,” Yerin assures me. “It’s just weird.”

“I thought we’re over this!” I laugh. “I just want to not look like a zom—“

“I know!” she cuts in, “I know. I’m just teasing. It’s good you’re doing the thing. Remember the new motto? It’s not vanity, it’s self-care.”

Thank you, Queer Eye for the self-love tips. “Exactly. Except we’re still doing terribly on the healthy eating part.”

“One battle at a time. Should I go with you?”

I give it a good moment’s thought. “No, you catch up with your dramas. I’ll be fine. Unless you want to come with?”

“Hell, no. Also, I’m not waiting up for you so don’t come home too drunk to remember the passcode.”

I finish up my face and grab my phone, which has my ID and my debit card in a convenient card holder taped to the back of the case, and some bills. “I’m not drinking, don’t worry.”

At least not drinking much.

“And if you’re not coming home,” she pauses for effect and to waggle her brows at me. “Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Oh my, god. Baek Yerin.”

“What?” She turns back to her laptop and hits play on her episode. “It’s the responsible thing to do. Besides, one of us has to take one for the team eventually. Bring home the bacon. Get our game on. Or whatever it is they say these days. You see this in itself is a problem.”

I head for the door and put on a pair of white sneakers. “Okay, but I’m going to at least get to the third date first, you know. And then we get to the bacon.”

She laughs and waves at me to leave. “It already is the third date. Also you forgot to bring your camera.”

I shut the door behind me.

The team, or some of them anyway, are at what I shall henceforth refer to as their usual spot at the back of the bar. It’s easy to spot Jae with his head sticking out. Matthew—big, chiseled, gorgeous Matthew—sits next to him, then Wonpil and Younghyun on the other side of the booth. No Sungjin.

Even with the fully booked Saturday night crowd, I would have noticed him if he were ordering at the bar. Maybe he’s in the restroom?

Also, curiously, no June.

“Hey!” Jae raises an empty glass at me. “You made it! Awesome.”

Wonpil pushes Younghyun against the glass on the window side to make space for me. “You can sit over here.”

“Thanks.” I’m half dangling out of the bench, but it’s all good and I don’t mind because it gives me a good exit if I ever need one. Younghyun’s been watching me ever since he’s spotted me walking over and he’s still watching me now so I look up and acknowledge his presence with a flick of the brows.

He does that slow grin that starts from one side of his mouth.

Act casual. “Just you guys? What did you summon me all the way here for?”

“Sungjin should be here soon,” Younghyun answers. There’s something off about him, but I can’t place what it is. Must be the bruises. Should he even be out tonight? Isn’t he still all banged up and everything?

“Soon is a construct, my friend,” Jae says, rearranging the bottles of soju and cans of beer on the table like he’s moving around chess pieces. “Especially since Cap’s been stuck at the lab all day.”

My ears perk up. “Lab?”

“Mechanical engineering stuff,” Wonpil says, “he’s been building a thing for one of his classes, I think. I think it’s a robot. He’s probably building a robot, you know. Like a Gundam or something. Like a top secret project.”

I’ve come across this information before, but I never really knew what to do about it until this very moment. The image of Sungjin and power tools does a little number on my stomach. “I hope you didn’t ask me here for official stuff because I didn’t bring my camera.”

Matthew just laughs. Even his laugh is manly. All these choices and I just had to be stuck with Younghyun. I wouldn’t have complained even I didn’t get Sungjin if it were Matthew. “It’s official business, kind of. Unofficial official business.”

“Bro.” Jae raises a hand. “Isn’t it more like official unofficial business?”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, brah, there’s a difference.”

“Dude, it’s exactly the same thing.”

“Mate, the devil is in the details. You cannot disregard semantics and syntax for your convenience.”

“It’s the same difference.”

“Bruv, no.”

Thankfully, Wonpil shows mercy on me. “We’re having our annual initiation ceremonies that’s totally not hazing for the froshbites. You’re not allowed to film it because it’s a hockey team secret and you’re not allowed in there but we’re inviting you after and you can film some camaraderie stuff if Cap says okay.”

“You asked me all the way here just to say that?” I throw a glance at Younghyun who just shrugs innocently at me. Except I see him wince because he’s all banged up and shouldn’t be outside in his condition.

Wonpil shrugs too. “It’s sensitive information. No paper or digital trails.”

Nights like tonight I wonder how Wonpil is on the hockey team and why, but I suppose that is a question that will be answered when I get them one-on-one for their interviews. The same can be said about Jae, but Jae enjoys the game from what I see. He’s always yelling enthusiastically at one thing or another during their plays. And even though he looks awkward with his loose limbs and lanky frame when he’s on solid land, he’s pretty slick on the ice.

“Well,” I sigh, “if this is going to take a while I’m gonna go order something. You guys want anything?”

“A basket of offerings for the table would be nice,” Jae answers, palms raised to the ceiling. “Especially if you’re paying.”

Matthew nudges Jae with his massive arm. “That’s not polite.”

“Polite does not take precedence over the hallowed traditions of the club. The rules clearly state—”

Matthew cuts him off. “Do you just make up rules as you go along?”

“These are the bylaws and guidelines of the brotherhood, man!”

“You mean these are the bylaws and guidelines of the brotherhood when it’s convenient for you.”

Jae the political science major is likely going to take a while so I get up and head to the bar to order a soda and a basket of chicken. I didn’t notice Wonpil follow me until he’s standing next to me.

“Buddy system,” he says by way of explanation. “Sometimes it gets kinda rowdy up here. Tonight it’s my turn.”

“You guys take turns?” I look around us and it’s pretty quiet and chill, although it’s still pretty early for a Saturday night. “For what exactly?”

“Yeah. We each take turns in case you need more hands,” he answers. Spreading his hand, he ticks off his fingers one at a time. “Me, Long Beach, BM, and Toronto. Also I want another soda and some fries.”

When we get back to the table with our food and drinks, I’m all caught up with the team nicknames, meanwhile Jae and Matthew are still not done discussing the brotherhood and the bylaws that govern their institution. Younghyun is just idly dividing his attention between them and his phone, his forehead resting on the heel of his palm. I want to ask if he’s okay or whatever it is he’s so bummed about, but any destination that is Younghyun related is automatically a bad trip.

Matthew doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s a forcefulness there that’s passion driven and not at all malicious in intent. “You know what’s will finally settle this score?”

Jae turns to Younghyun, “Tell Sunshine we need her ASAP. It’s a matter of personal pride.”

“You tell her that yourself,” Younghyun shoots back with a chuckle. “You’re the one who needs her.”

“Where is she?” Matthew asks, crowding Jae and peering into the latter’s phone screen as he’s typing. “This is a very serious team meeting. The team manager needs to be here.”

Younghyun just shrugs with the one shoulder. “I told her we’d be here. She comes and goes as she wants. I can’t make her do stuff.”

“You really can, though,” Wonpil muses out loud.

“I won’t do that,” Younghyun laughs. “Do you know what the consequences are for pissing off the person who’s in charge of ordering team jockstraps?”

Wonpil’s brows shoot up. “I thought that was just a myth?”

“Oh, Twinkletoes,” Jae says, shaking his head patronisingly at Wonpil. “There is much for you to learn.”

Thankfully, it’s at that precise moment that Sungjin decides to show up. Tonight he looks so comfortable and relaxed in a black shirt underneath red plaid and with his cap on backwards. He looks surprised to see me, but the smile on his face is warm. 

The discussion revolves around allowing me access to the initiation rites, and Sungjin just laughs it off saying it’s really not as hardcore as the others make it sound like. Although I can tell this is serious business to him as well. There’s something in the way he talks about it, as though he’s recalling pleasant memories and generally good associations with the whole affair. It’s tradition, and what I take away from here is that Sungjin values tradition.

I’m given the important details, sworn to secrecy, and vaguely threatened should any information leak out. All in all it’s a good night.

By the end of the second hour, Matthew, Jae, and Wonpil all get up to hop over to Jackson Wang’s party across campus. I’m crossing my fingers this is where Younghyun leaves me alone with Sungjin, but Sungjin is the next to get up saying he has to get back to the lab. And so I’m left with Younghyun.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks after Sungjin has gone. We’re sitting across each other in the booth now. The bar is still full, it seems it’s only getting even more crowded as the hour passes.

Yes, I am but I’m not in a hurry. It’s not a race. All that matters is I got to see Sungjin tonight. Do I wish we had more time together? Of course, I do. We didn’t even get to talk about anything else other than this initiation special, and I did not think I was in a position to supply any input so I kept quiet and listened well. But it’s still a good night because I got to hang out with him.

“Slow and steady,” I tell him. “Did you really ask me here for the whole…” I try to find a word but come up blank.

“You’re the one who asked for full access to everything,” he says. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to thank you. For what exactly?”

He laughs, but I can see the strain it puts on his body.

“Please tell me you had yourself checked. You don’t have any broken ribs, do you?”

“No,” he says, wincing. “Nothing’s broken. It just hurts like hell.”

“Are we still waiting for someone?”

“No.”

That’s all I need to hear. “Okay, you know what I’m taking you home.”

“At least buy me dinner first,” he quips.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t protest and I walk him outside where we’re greeted with a crisp in the air and the sound of buskers singing and dancing and a full crowd of people lining the strip. I take in a lungful of oxygen for the betterment of my brain. I can’t believe I’m stuck doing this, but what else is there for me to do? I can’t just leave him alone.

“I’m gonna go call you a ride home. Where do you live?”

“And how are you getting home?” he asks, eyeing me offendedly.

“I’ll walk.”

“Let’s get you home first and then I’ll book a ride from there.”

“Or we could go separately.” I look up at him when the silence between us gets too loud.

Younghyun turns to me with an annoyed look on his face. He’s determined not to lose this not-argument, and unfortunately for him I am as equally determined. The face-off begins with a stare down, goes into second period with a pro-level sneering and non-verbal trash talking, until it finally ends with a long fit of wheezing and hiccuping laughter because…well…I guess we’re both five years old.

Younghyun sways toward me and pulls me into a walk using only his gravitational field. Somehow it just happens that we walk all the way back to my building in comfortable silence. It’s…nice. I blame the alcohol and the fumes, but it’s nice.

Younghyun walks me all the way to the main door before I wait all the way until he’s safely inside a taxi that will bring him home. Yerin is already asleep when I get back. I don’t settle into my night routine until I get his message that he’s home safe and alive and not a victim of some serial killer. As proof, he even sends a totally unnecessary selfie of him in bed which definitely in no way makes me feel a weird sense of fuzziness on the inside. Or if I do feel warm and fuzzy, it’s because I’m exhausted and it’s been a weird night.

I understand that the act was a good deed he had done for me.

I know this.

He’s a good guy.

But now I can’t sleep because I’m curious.

Why did he do that?

Chapter Text

I’m at the rink at the crack of dawn Monday morning, at least an hour ahead of practice, to get some shots of the boys coming in early. I thought I could set up and have enough time for the coffee to kick in, but the surprise is on me because Sungjin is already skating circles around the ice when I get there. He’s got his helmet in one hand and his stick in the other. As he glides down the ice, the momentum pushes his hair away from his face and I’m stuck there like a statue just watching him.

Of course, he’s the first guy on the ice. First guy in, last guy out. It’s just so Park Sungjin.

Sungjin turns to me and raises his helmet at me when he skates by my side of the bleachers. I smile. Also, I wave.

I realise three things at the same time.

One, I should have my camera out because

Two, that’s what I’m here for; and

Three, the wave part I really didn’t mean to do but I keep doing silly things like some unseen force just insists on making me appear like some lovesick girl.

To be fair, I don’t think that’s what I am. Not exactly. I’m just…

Sigh.

I grab my camera from its case, leaving the heavy bags and the tripod at their usual spot at the topside of the bleachers, and head the way down to the tunnel. Maybe I can get some closer shots of the ice, and of Sungjin, from the benches. I might even get a good shot of him just skating. And if I get enough footage of him—which, let’s face it, I probably will—I can even give him his own tape.

Like I don’t have enough work to do as is.

My heart beats faster the closer I get to the ice. I’m trying to figure out what my best opening line is, if I should start with a hi or if I should go in with a question for the interview. One approach is friendly, the kind that operates on the assumption, and hope, that after all this is through we can still hang out in the future and not be strangers. The other approach is professional, the kind that says I’m a serious person who takes my schoolwork seriously and should be taken seriously at all times. Like I said to Younghyun, I don’t do casual.

Sungjin solves my dilemma by speaking first. “Welcome to the ice,” he says as soon as I enter the bench area. He’s at centre ice, but I can hear him loud and clear. It’s just the two of us here now. Alone.

“So this is what it looks like down here.” I’m already filming and I point at the camera to let him know.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?”

It really is. Without the rest of the team, it feels like a completely different world. I pan across the bleachers, wondering how it feels like when all the seats are filled and all eyes are on the team. “Not as intense as usual.”

The corner of his mouth curves into a half-smile. “A different kind of intense.”

“It’s an intense game.” I sigh. “It’s definitely intense to watch. There’s a lot of skill involved.” I have skated, but I’ve done nothing more than move forward and around without falling down on my butt.

He chuckles softly to himself. “Well, you’ll get to see your first real game with us this weekend.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Same as always.” He glances around the flags hanging from the walls. “There’s a lot of pressure on us. The team’s been around for a good solid run with the university, and being listed as the one of the top ten campuses in the country to go to if you’re into the sport is testament to that. We’ve got a lot on our shoulders, but at the end of the day it’s a sport. It’s just a game.”

“But it’s not just a game to you?”

He blows a puff of air from his cheeks. “I’m on a scholarship, so no. It’s not just a game to me.”

Just thinking about all the grade requirements he has to maintain to keep his scholarship and his participation in the team is already giving me insight into who he is as a person. There’s nothing complicated at all about him. What you see is what you get with Park Sungjin.

“But you’re the team captain, that must count for something. And a junior, too. How did you become team captain?”

He starts moving around the ice, pushing off to a slow skate before answering. “It was a unanimous vote. The coaches don’t have a say on who becomes captain as they believe the team knows best. So the team chooses who they know they trust and will”—he shakes his head—“will lead them to the championships. They chose me this year.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.” It’s a lot to carry on his shoulders, especially if even the seniors on the team voted for him and trusted him with this responsibility.

When he looks up, he’s grinning though there’s a tinge of stress there. “It is. But it’s a team sport. We’ve got each other’s backs on and off the ice. I trust them as much as they trust me.”

“On and off the ice. On the ice—does that mean to say it’s because it’s a sport that can really get you beat up?”

He laughs. “You noticed.”

Oh, I’ve noticed. Sungjin is one of the defensemen on the team, and though he usually hangs back and makes sure no one from the other side gets anywhere near their goaltender Dowoon and score points, it can get more than a little aggressive.

Not as aggressive as what Younghyun has had to suffer through.

I shake the rogue thought away.

“And off the ice?” I follow up.

He stops skating to think about his answer. “Off the ice, we’re good as brothers. In a sport like this, we really need to know we can count on each other to keep up us all on the level. If there are any conflicts, we need to get them sorted out before someone brings it to the ice. Likewise, whatever happens on the ice, stays on the ice. We’re each other’s support group. We have to be. We spend so much time training together, winning together or losing together, and there’s more in between that’s really hard to put into words. ”

“Is that why you’re here early? For some alone time?”

Another laugh, one with shoulders and a crinkle in his eyes. “You can say that.”

“Are you usually the first one here?”

“Usually,” he says, skating around in a big circle. “Sometimes Toronto beats me to it.”

I can’t help it, I snort. “Younghyun?”

I know he just said they are as good as brothers on and off the ice, but could there be a touch of competitiveness between them? As though it matters who gets here first. Like it’s a race to the finish line.

Yeah, I don’t know my sports okay. This isn’t new information. Deal with it.

Although, imagining Younghyun all alone on the ice isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I flash back to the other night after practice when he’d been contemplating the rink, when he looked so deep into his thoughts it felt like he was drowning in them.

“I know it doesn’t look like it,” Sungjin says, “but he’s got a lot of pressure on him.”

“Because he’s the top scorer of the team.”

He nods, but I can tell there’s more to it than just being able to consistently win games. “A lot of the guys on the team, myself included, got into the sport almost by accident or just out of curiosity. I didn’t think I’d be playing hockey, but I got dragged into it somewhere in middle school. Wonpil, he used to be a figure skater but the university only offers scholarships for hockey players. Then there’s Jae and Matthew who grew up fans of the sport. It’s more or less the same for the rest of the guys.”

“But for Younghyun?”

“His dad played in the NHL and his mom was a figure skater. He was born on the ice, so says the urban legend.”

The chips fall into place. “Toronto.”

“Where he’s from,” Sungjin confirms. “His parents still live there, as far I know.”

“So why is he here?”

“You should ask him that yourself. I’m sure he can tell you the story better.”

There’s a story there that’s just jumping out at me, but I’m apprehensive of where it leads. Asking Younghyun, even knowing he promised me answers, niggles something in my brain. Turns out he’s even more of a mystery than I initially thought, and this not bode well for either of us. And maybe that’s why I can’t help but feel like a moth being drawn to the flame.

Something buzzes behind me and I know it’s not my phone because the buzzing doesn’t come from inside my back pocket. I look around, my curiosity getting the better of me. The area is mostly empty save for the end of the bench that’s piled with books spilling out of a backpack and a black hoodie draped next to it. A phone buzzes and lights up on top of a monster of a biochemistry book. It’s too late to feel any guilt about eavesdropping because it all happens so fast without me meaning to. Younghyun’s face fills the screen—it’s a selfie of him drinking an iced americano with the Jae and Matthew crowding the space behind him.

Sending selfies is a totally normal thing to do. I tell myself this in that mentally out loud way you tell yourself things when you’re rationalising an irrational thought that blindsides you. The best way to frame this is that Younghyun is the type of guy who likes to randomly send pictures of himself. Maybe he’s just reporting signs of life to inform the authorities that he’s not slacking off.

Or maybe Younghyun is just doing it to annoy the fuck out of people. He’s already proven again and again that his main mission in life is to be a little shit.

And just like that, I suddenly have this urge to whack his face with my binder.

I look away just as I hear the sound of heavy boots entering the area.

June walks in with her clipboard and a pair of black gloves. When she turns to me, she acknowledges me with a nod that’s not cold at all I feel like I won something.

I kind of smile at her? A friendly, non-threatening, very mild sort of smile. I stop recording and put my camera down. “I’m sorry about the other day, “ I tell her. “I didn’t mean to ambush you. I should have warned you first.”

“It’s okay,” she answers, her voice still a little hoarse like it’s too early in the morning to be functioning and she’s barely managed to catch some sleep. I wish I knew she was here this early, I would have brought her some coffee. “I’m sorry, too. For freaking out.”

Progress. I love this.

“I’ll give you enough time to prepare next time, I promise.”

I think she’s smiling but it’s hard to tell. “I’m supposed to message you about the details for the thing.” She pauses long enough to allow her words to sink in. The initiation thing. “It’s after the game this weekend. You’re going?”

“Yeah, I’ll figure out how to—”

June shakes her head. “No, you’re coming with us on the bus. I’ll message you what time we meet up here.”

Okay, then. “Cool.”

“I’m trying to get you a spot on the down ice holes, too. I’ll get BM to spook one of the journ nerds from the other team.”

I can’t tell if she’s joking but I’m into it.

The ksssh-ksssh-ksssh of Sungjin’s skates as he approaches the board has both June and I turning toward him. He swings himself over the wall and plants his skates on solid ground with us. Remember what I said about my body doing stuff on its own accord because I lose all executive function when I’m around exceptionally attractive jocks? Yeah. That. Like I’ve been doing this all my life, I offer my hand to help Sungjin in whatever way I can. But this time it pays off because he hands me his stick and—praise be to the hockey gods above—it’s still warm from his touch and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Sungjin sets his helmet down on the bench and pulls off his gloves. “Where did you find them?” he asks June, pulling off his gloves and reaching for the ones she just brought in with her.

“Locker room,” she mumbles, “The left one in Long Beach’s stall and the right one in BM’s.”

June—bless her poor heart—places the gloves on the clipboard for him to take. Sungjin is taken aback by this, as any other person would at such blatant disregard for and conscious avoidance of human contact, but he just laughs it off and exchanges his gloves.

Sungjin just shakes his head. To me he says, “That’s why I come early.”

“Come early,” June snorts. “It’s really not,” she mutters under her breath.

I don’t get to ask for clarification because she’s already collecting her stuff from the bench, pocketing her phone after checking her notifications, and stepping out and back out into the tunnel leading toward the supply rooms. Sungjin just watches her go with mild amusement on his face. Then it’s quiet for a couple of beats. And then it’s not because Younghyun, Jae, and Matthew all arrive all at the same time. 

Jae announces his presence, loudly singing, “You are sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey.” And his voice is not at all half bad if only it weren’t June as the object of his affections.

“That’ll turn out well,” Sungjin comments, taking his stick back so I can film the boys come in. He says thank you in the softest way possible, I don’t know how I’m even still standing.

Younghyun is walking more like himself, though I doubt his bruises have all healed yet. I zoom in on him carrying two coffees, and when I focus on his face he’s smirking at me. Like he knows I’m zooming in on his face. Like I’m supposed to be doing that in the first place. His eyes bounce between me and Sungjin and the corner of his mouth tugs upward. I can hear the thoughts in his head. Even though he did nothing to orchestrate this, I’m sure he expects me to thank him for my time with Sungjin.

Despite my reluctance to leave this little piece of heaven with Sungjin, I leave the benches to follow the boys into the tunnel to catch them walking in with their gear. Jae is still singing, and loudly. Matthew is talking with June, and the height difference is perfectly cinematic I can’t stop myself from framing them within the hallway and the backdrop of the trophy room. I know this isn’t the kind of material I want to work with, but I can’t help it. It’s so cute.

That is until Younghyun walks into the scene and hands June her coffee. He takes her free palm and wraps her fingers around the cup. Then Younghyun saunters off right toward the center of my frame.

I stop recording. “You’re blocking my shot.”

“I am your shot,” he teases. His shoots a glance at the rink. “I saw that. Good morning, by the way.”

“I should have just made you walk back home by yourself,” I mutter, stepping aside and walking up back the bleachers. The rest of the team is coming inside in twos and threes.

“Except you didn’t,” he calls out after me. “Admit it, you’re growing fond of me.”

I throw him the finger from over my shoulder and jog all the way back up to my spot on the other side of the glass.

Chapter Text

Game day.

It’s introductions all over again. I forget half the names on the roster during the bus roll call, but that’s okay because that’s the whole point of recording the entire sequence. I started recording even before I boarded the big smelly bus, right from the arrival of the players and the loading of equipment and now to their seating arrangements. Coach Taec was rounding them up like sheep, standing in front of the bus with a microphone making like a tour guide. When he was satisfied everyone was accounted for and they had all their equipment and other necessities, we were off.

Younghyun took me aside a while back, grinning at me and leaning into my space as soon as he arrived to say, “Make sure you’re the last one to get on the bus.”

Never mind that his hair was lowkey greasy and I don’t even know if he took a shower this morning, what with rolled-out-of-bed look he’s sporting and the slight stubble on his upper lip and chin. But he was happily munching on his breakfast when he arrived with the rest of his closest teammates, even offering me a half-eaten cereal bar which I politely refused.

I ignored him at first, not really understanding what he was hinting at, but now it’s all starting to make sense. The two coaches sit in front. June sits a few rows behind them, her seat mate being her backpack. The froshbites are all crowded in the back, with some of the soph-serves interspersed in the far end and the middle with the juniors and the seniors. Wonpil and Dowoon sit together in the latter end, Jae and Matthew sit together somewhere in the middle, Younghyun has two seats to himself behind June, and on the same row across from him also with two seats to himself is Sungjin.

Thank you, hockey gods, for such a fortuitous circumstance.

Naturally, I say the wittiest, most charming, most original line in existence. “Is this seat taken?”

Sungjin just chuckles to himself and offers me the seat next to him. It feels like middle school again and my crush finally noticed me for the first time ever, and I’m running out of ways to distract myself from just gushing and making a fool out of myself in front of Sungjin. As the noise of guys being guys—joking around, playing games or music on their phones—and all other ambient noise settles around us, I pretend to be busy on my phone just because Sungjin seems lost in this thoughts, busy with his phone.

Younghyun’s message arrives a few moments later: talk to him

Jerkface: make a move

Jerkface:  any move

Jerkface: say something

I watch Younghyun from the corner of my eye but he’s just pokerfaced staring into his phone with his music in his ear. I text back:

me: And say what?

Jerkface: do i have to do all the work? 🙄

me: Or we could just sit in silence.

Jerkface: or we could just sit in silence 🙄

God, I heard that in my head as oR wE cOuLd JuSt SiT iN sIlEnCe

Jerkface: ask him about his feelings. you’d like that.

I hold back a snort.

me: Or you could mind your own business.

Jerkface: or you could mind your own business

me: Stop that.

Jerkface: stop that

I’m dizzy just trying not to laugh out loud and throw something at Younghyun across the aisle. Meanwhile, Mr. Kang Younghyun doesn’t even flinch, not even a little bit. He just sits there, all cool and chic and unaffected.

me: Are you nervous?

Jerkface: yeah

When I cut a glance at him, he’s already anticipating it and catches my gaze across the the distance between us. I don’t know what I was hoping he’ll say when I asked him if he’s nervous, and now that he gave me his truth I’m at a loss for what to say. I feel like I should say something, but what can I possibly say that won’t sound like empty platitudes?

Matthew getting up and walking right between us breaks our little not-staring match to sit next to June. He picks her backpack off her seat and settles it between his legs before stretching comfortably as if he intends to stay long. I wish I could take a picture without being too obvious. I have no idea what’s going on between them, but I dig it. They look cute together.

Younghyun doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, but he’s managed to maintain his poker face throughout our little conversation so I really can’t tell what he’s thinking. Not that I think he should have been affected by our little conversation. If it even counts as a conversation.

“You guys are cheaters!” Jae suddenly yells from behind me. “The betrayal! The deception!”

“You just suck at this game,” June deadpans. It’s the first time I’m hearing her speak louder than a mutter, and it’s a little jarring when it’s coming out of a void because that’s what it looks like from where she’s sitting, the backrest and Matthew completely hiding her from sight.

“No,” Jae counters, “You guys tag-teamed on me! My Sunshine, how could you? I trusted you!”

Matthew twists in his seat to stick his tongue out at Jae. “It’s not my fault you suck at this game.”

“How dare you!” Jae leans over the armrest, bending himself at the waist to glare at Matthew. “The game is called Words With Friends! Friends. Where is the friendship?”

“There’s no such thing as friendship in Words With Friends,” June shoots back. “You owe me a rootbeer float.”

“I demand a rematch!”

“You guys are playing without me?” Younghyun laughs, getting up to kneel on his seat. “Add me!”

Next to me, Sungjin sighs and taps his fingers impatiently on the back of his phone. I get it. Totally. It’s going to be long, long, ride.

The pre-game rituals are probably the most interesting bits of the next few sequences I film. I take a couple of shots of the opposing team’s stadium, as well as the bleachers filled with the other team’s colours and the scoreboard and the rink being prepared for the match. When I follow June into strategy with the guys, it really sinks in that this is official. It’s the start of the season. I zoom in on faces, serious and nervous and excited. Younghyun’s eyes blaze with a focus that’s startlingly foreign to me. Nothing else exists in his world now.

Afterwards, the boys take to their stalls. The froshbites are running around, doing errands, making equipment runs, and generally submitting to the older players’ bidding. Matthew plays a game on his phone. Wonpil listens to some electronic music. Dowoon checks and rechecks his gear. Jae is quiet with his eyes closed. Younghyun is taping and re-taping his stick over and over again. Sungjin was just here a moment ago but he isn’t anymore.

Times like these, it’s best to leave them alone and I make a clean exit to find a good spot and set up on the bleachers so I have a good clean shot of the rink. Sungjin is standing in the middle of the hallway, back against a wall. It’s a personal moment I don’t want to intrude in, so I give him a few more seconds before I have to walk through. That gives me enough time to debate on whether or not I should wish him luck. Break a leg? Do your best?

June comes running down the opposite direction, skidding to a stop when Sungjin clotheslines her with his arm. She bounces off him softly with a little laugh—the first time I think I’ve ever seen her laugh—and raises a roll of laces, which Sungjin takes with a grateful smile. Then she steps away from him, one hand on her waist and the other fanning her face as she catches her breath. They stare at each other for a full moment, not saying anything in the way of words but there’s a whole conversation going on just with their eyes.

When June sees me, she puts her game face back on and gestures at me to follow her out. So I do that, taking a deep breath and diving right into the action. Sungjin acknowledges me with a smile and I do what I always do.

I wave.

By the end of the second period, I realise I’m having a whole lot more fun than I expected. I still don’t understand, like, 80% of what’s going on but June takes her time explaining the comings and goings of the game in an approachable manner. She doesn’t have to stand with me all the way up here, I’m sure she’d rather sit where she usually sits at these game, doing all else but babysit me, but she’s here. Like she wants to be here.

During the break, we get a soft pretzel and a box of popcorn to share. I don’t want to jinx the game, I’ve seen the way the boys and the looks of worry on their faces, so I keep my thoughts to a minimum and hope for the best.

When the last period begins, June gets up from our seats and nervously bounces on her feet. In between bouts of muttering at the players, and to herself, she tries her best to keep me caught up with what’s happening. “Toronto’s got the puck, and…” she trails off, muttering profanities under her breath.

I am probably going to end up deaf in one ear and with supersonic hearing in the other, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay because hockey is exciting. Unlike the usual stories I cover that predict when the all the polar icecaps will melt and submerge the land masses on this planet, this game is a different sort of nonstop action. It’s different from a practice game. The players flying past at warp speed, the sticks slapping the pucks so fast I can’t see where it is. Every time a player slams into the plexi, and it feels like it happens every few minutes, my heart leaps to my throat. I can never get used to the violent sound it makes or the inappropriate thrill each time it happens. And it’s already happened thrice to Younghyun and he just barely got healed from his last beating.

“Fuck him up,” June mumbles beside me. Her voice is half a whisper but the sentiment is the same as any of the yelling around us. “What are you doing? Come on guys.” This is her version of cheering and she’s so cute I want to boop her nose. “Bacon,” she says, “Gotta bring it home. Bacon is life.”

Then I feel her go tense beside me, and the whole student section seems to lean forward. I reach for my camera and focus on one of our team’s players who has broken away from the rush of his pursuers.

It’s just Younghyun now. Him and the puck and the other team’s goalie, who also tenses.

He feints to the left and then slaps the puck with the smallest of moves with his wrist. I can’t see it anymore, but a lamp lights on the plexi behind the net, and half the arena stands up and screams. The roar of the arena pulses in my blood.

We scored! And now I’m spreading my arms and then hugging myself because June probably doesn’t like big hugs but there’s more hugging down on the ice and in the bench area and then the team is all piling on top of Younghyun, the end of his stick the only evidence that he’s underneath the dog pile.

Hockey. It’s not bad.

When we regroup together again in the tunnel, I’m feeling flushed and happy like I’m part of the team, too. All I did was watch and record the game, but somehow it feels bigger than that. It’s a strange feeling, like I belong with this group I’ve only met three weeks before. It’s a feeling I bookmark for now, to be revisited at a later time when the adrenaline isn’t rushing through my bloodstream.

I follow June into the locker room with my camera trained on the sight ahead. I get a shot of Coach Taec, all teeth, and Coach Yubin, all fierceness, both grinning ear to ear while discussing all the things that went right in the game. The boys are still exuberant, riding off the crest of this high, exchanging fist bumps, high fives, and enthusiastic finger guns. June jumps right into the fray and Younghyun catches her with both arms, enveloping her in a tight, long hug. Then she goes around and hugs Matthew and Jae.

My job here is to blend into the background and be as unobtrusive as possible, but I can’t help but want to be in on the celebration as well. I turn to my side when figure appears next to my shoulder, and it’s Sungjin.

“How was your first game?” he asks, hair pushed back and mouth pulled wide in an easy grin. “Not bad, right?”

“I don’t know what to do or say because I don’t know what’s good luck and bad luck, but oh my god?” I’m saying to him while keeping my camera hand steady at the other people in the room.

Oh my hockey gods.

He laughs, “When it’s like this it’s good, isn’t it?”

“Do I say congratulations?”

He nods. “Yeah, that’s okay. Perfectly acceptable.”

“Congratulations!”

Sungjin is swallowed by the team despite his vehement protests, and I capture everything on camera. Jae does a little victory dance, just like the one he did on the ice a while ago and Matthew and Younghyun join him. I know it’s too early to feel complacent or even celebratory, but maybe this is why people do sports.

It’s an angle I could definitely put a spin on. A little cliche, but who doesn’t love a good trope? Done right, I could extract the heart of this piece and serve it up on a platter, Master Chef style, for the judges to eat up.

Younghyun’s gaze catches mine from the across the locker room just as he breaks away from the dancing. He cocks his head at me and smiles like he’s glad I’m around to see all this. Or maybe because he’s glad I’m around to capture his moment of victory. I file the thought away for now, deciding to think about whether or not, and how much, it matters to me.

From the midst of the chaos, he steps away from his teammates and walks toward me, eyes locked on mine. My camera hand slackens and everything comes into high definition and surround sound. Younghyun’s swagger, at least for tonight, is well deserved.

“Not bad,” I tell him, “You were almost good.”

“Almost? I was on fire. Did you see me?”

“I’m sure I have like a minute or something of you,” I tease. “On the bench. Dancing that dorky dance of yours. Oh, and I got a pretty decent shot of your stick sticking out of a pile of limbs and padding.”

He reaches over and for a moment I think he’s going to pull me in his arms in a tight embrace, but he just grabs a towel from behind my head and wipes the sweat off his face.

I get the distinct feeling he knows exactly what I’m thinking, what with the mischievous glint in his eyes and the sharp angles of his smile. Slowly, he lifts a brow.

I point my camera at his face. “So how does it feel to win tonight?”

Chapter Text

It’s raining men.

Hallelujah.

Praise be to the hockey gods.

The men’s hockey team’s initiation rites may be a baptism of fire by trust and loyalty,  mild embarrassment of the emotionally non-scarring variety, and a bonus side of alcohol abuse for the members, but it’s nothing but a show of virility to me, a third party observer fly-on-the-wall privileged enough to be invited. Earlier this Friday afternoon, June messaged me with instructions to come to an address in a fancy residential part of town fifteen minutes before midnight and to let myself in using a key code to the back entrance. She should have added a warning that this is not for the weak of heart as I do not have the mental and emotional fortitude to look away.

Alas, the all other male-attracted members of this team are too used to this view and are thus unaffected and likely disinclined to feel anything for each other for various other reasons that are none of my business. My fingers are itching to message Jimin and Yerin, but June confiscated all phones and devices for the sanctity of the hockey team’s initiation rites. Good thing, too. I don’t need to go revealing myself to my friends that I have completely, and without remorse, fallen into this ditch.

I love sports.

The team is scattered around the backyard. Dowoon is being asked to lift his shirt again, for another look at his muscles, but the shy goalie just mutters off and walks away. Jae, in a loose sleeveless top and jeans is playing air guitar with some of the freshly initiated froshbites. I can’t tell if he’s drunk because I haven’t seen him with a drink in his hand since I got here and I got here before the team did. June and I were the welcoming committee, and we had to do the welcoming before I could ask any questions.

Matthew is parading around in board shorts. Only. For some reason, not that I’m complaining, he is soaked even before getting to the pool. The deck is lit up by the lights from inside the house and outside by orange electric torchlights, bright enough for illumination without alerting the entire neighbourhood of the activities at this hour of the night. It is just enough lighting to see that his bruises have faded into a slight discolouration on his skin so you are absolved from guilt from watching the trickle of water down his six-pack and his biceps and all those other rippling muscles on his chest and back that I don’t know the names for. To my right and sitting cross-legged on top of the table, June is a rock. Solid. Unwavering. Also—as of the moment Matthew waves and smiles at us—not breathing.

“So you’re telling me you kidnapped the froshbites from the first year dorms, brought them to the rink, not-hazed them, and now we’re here?”

Wonpil nods. He’s sitting to my left, holding a clear umbrella up as a shield to keep his speakers and laptop safe from…I don’t know what from just yet but I’m thankful for the secondhand defense. He’s been playing a mix of electronic dance music all night. “It’s a pretty straightforward process.”

“Sure.” I don’t mention that the froshbites all have cartoon stickers all over their faces and are wearing all their clothes backwards. “Where are we exactly?”

The area is a gated community and I had to be called in before being let inside; I had a security guard drive me in a golf cart all the way to this house. A big, fancy house with a pool and a deck. I haven’t seen the inside, but based on what I have seen from where we’re sitting outside on a picnic bench, the house is at least three storeys with more rooms than there are uses for.

“It’s BM’s house.”

My jaw hangs open. “What?”

“Well,” Wonpil explains. “It’s his parents house. BM lives with us at the hockey house.”

The hockey house is not a house. It's one of the dorms in the athletic housing services on campus. As far as I know, Younghyun, Sungjin, Jae, Wonpil, Matthew and three other guys occupy the second and third floor of the four storey building. There’s an open kitchen on the first floor and, according to Jae, Wonpil almost set the building on fire the first night he stayed there.

Speaking of the other guys, Younghyun and Sungjin come stumbling in from inside the house. Younghyun’s shirt is not in attendance tonight, revealing just how bad his bruises are. And the reason he is topless is because he, too, is freshly initiated despite being on the team since freshman year. The details to which, I have not yet come across in conversation because…well…there’s no point to asking questions and holding conversation when you don’t trust yourself to keep your eyes up top and actually listen to what anyone has to say.

Sungjin is also divested of his inner shirt for reasons unknown, but I’m not complaining either because the buttons of his plaid shirt have come nearly all the way undone. Sungjin wrestles himself successfully out of Younghyun’s hold, and Younghyun crashes into Jae and they both tumble into the pool; Matthew cannonballs in after them. Water splatters against our umbrella and everything makes sense now.

Sungjin steps away from the mess with a laugh and heads toward us, self-consciously crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you have my shirt?”

I almost answer, but he’s not speaking to me. June tenses for a moment when she realises Sungjin is talking to her. Her recovery comes after a long beat, but Sungjin is nothing but patient. Leaning back, she reaches behind her for a gym bag with the university team badge and rummages inside. She hands him a rolled up white shirt.

“Thanks,” he says. Then Sungjin steps a little further into the shadows offered by the hedge wall behind us and turns his back to us before sliding his shirt down his back and shoulders.

June looks away and busies herself with folding his used shirt on her lap.

But I am not June and I do not look away as Sungjin quickly pulls off his sleeves off his arms and puts on a fresh a shirt.

Wonpil nudges me with his knee, and when I turn to look at him he just laughs and shakes his head. When I look back, Sungjin’s already dressed. Sad.

It’s not until hours later that the party dwindles down and the team crawls inside the house to camp out in the living room despite the number of guest rooms. I am appalled at the lack of regard for proper beddings as they literally just choose a spot on the carpet and pass out. Jae lucks out on the couch, but he has to curl up just to fit comfortably on the cushions. June throws a blanket over Jae after a headcount. We’re missing Younghyun, Sungjin, and Matthew, but June tells me not to worry about those three—that Sungjin and Matthew are probably in the garage talking about engines and whatever.

She tells me to go on ahead while she goes make herself some ramyun in the kitchen. Lucky for me, I get to sleep on a bed. I’m sharing a room with June, but when I get there after I use the bathroom  the door is propped open and someone else is on the bed.

Younghyun is lying belly down on the wide bed, chin propped against a pillow and his arms extended forward so his hands dangle off the edge. He’s still shirtless. More than the shock of seeing him in such a vulnerable position, is the shock of seeing his bruises in this light. There’s one on his shoulder and another down his side, still purple against his otherwise smooth skin and wiry muscles. There’s also scratches on his back, it’s a minor abrasion but still there. How did he even get that? And from where?

“What are you doing here?” I ask, hesitating at the door.

“Waiting for Sunshine.”

I tuck my hands inside the sleeves of my sweater and lean against the doorjamb. “So…you and June, huh.”

It’s not the best approach to the question I’ve been meaning to ask since I met the team, but sometimes finesse has no room in the pursuit of knowledge. Better to ask for the answers straight from the source than to hear it from someone else and have the information all twisted and mangled from being passed around too much.

He raises a brow as if that’s an acceptable response. “Sungjin’s probably still cleaning up outside. You should go help him.”

I already have. “He’s at the garage with Matthew talking about cars.”

His shoulders droop and I see the exhaustion in his features. “I saw you talking to Sungjin. Do we have progress?”

Redirection. Typical.

Sungjin and I were talking earlier tonight, and for quite a bit. Mostly about the class stuff; mundane everyday things. Every few minutes he would check on the team as though he were in charge of a bunch of kinds instead of adults. Then when people were starting to pass out, I helped him tidy up the deck while June and Matthew dealt with the body count.

I don’t know about progress.

Thankfully, I’m saved from answering that question by June walking into the room with her gym bag. She tosses it on top of the bed and digs in for a tube of ointment and can of cold spray. I feel like I’m intruding on something intimate, but they’re both acting like nothing is amiss. The embarrassed part of me wants to leave, but the curious part of me has rooted myself to the spot. Because even though the situation is personal, the atmosphere between them bears none of the familiar tension of a couple. They’re definitely familiar, definitely routine, but…platonic? None of the chemistry that can set a room on fire. Unless my sense for these things are dulled at the moment because it’s been a long day and an even longer night.

“Remember,” Younghyun says, looking up dramatically at June. “Soft hands.”

“Soft hands,” June mutters under breath. “You do it yourself, why don’t you.”

Younghyun makes a face. “Can’t reach.”

Good god. Younghyun is such a whiner.

June opens the tube of ointment and pushes it into Younghyun’s nose; he flinches and swats her hand away. She squeezes a small amount onto her fingers and taps it against his injuries. 

Younghyun winces at the touch. “Cold.”

“Boohoo. Deal with it.”

“I said soft hands! Wonpil has softer hands than you!”

With a huff, June gets up and walks toward me—pushes the tub of ointment into my hands. “You do it,” she mutters, “I’ll go get some ice.”

So now Younghyun is looking at me, pushing his hands under his pillow and making himself more comfortable if that's even possible. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “I’ll be out of your room in a minute.”

“It’s fine,” I say before he decides to get up. “It’s not a big deal. I can do it.”

He watches me with mild amusement as I approach the bed. “Soft hands,” he reminds me, “I’m very sensitive.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs.

I perch on the edge of the bed and do what June did. His skin feels so warm. Only the telltale twitching of his corded muscles let on that this is stinging a bit. “Why weren’t you initiated before?”

“Out of town youth summit ‘cause I’m smart,” he says, and I hear the smirk in his voice. “And then the following year I was out of town again because a bunch of hockey people took me to an exhibition game and the guys couldn’t figure out how to kidnap me from a fancy hotel.”

His bruises really do not look good and I carefully apply the ointment not wanting to hurt him. “I can’t believe you willingly put your body through all this torture. Is it really worth it?”

“It is,” he says, “It really is. A few scrapes and bruises are nothing to the thrill of being on the ice, in the middle of a game, the feeling of winning.”

“Have you always wanted to play?” I ask, and maybe later I can think about if it’s to distract me from the expanse of his shoulders and his back.

He tenses for a beat. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know.” I try not to let my fingers linger too long on his skin, but I’m pressing my fingers along the definition of his muscles before I’m even aware. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re doing this because you feel pressured because of your parents.”

I feel the change when I come across some resistance in his shoulders. “Because I was born on the ice?”

“Were you?” I absently ask. “Do you even like hockey?” It’s such a basic question but I can’t take it back now. Sometimes basic can be good. I can’t just assume that he loves hockey because of his dad.

“I was skating even before I was out of diapers,” he confesses—the honesty comes to me as a surprise. “I don’t know if they pushed me into it or if it’s something I just picked up because it was there, you know? And I was good at it. I mean, it would have been different if it turned out I had absolutely none of the skill requirements to skate.”

“You’re still good at it,” I tell him softly. “Really good at it. But you can’t just be doing something because you’re good at it. It’s not the same as loving what you do.”

He hums. “Soft hands.” 

“Huh?”

“You have very talented hands.”

Seriously? At a time like this?

I poke at his bruise. Just a little bit. Just enough to startle him.

He chuckles under his breath, and I hate that it makes me feel good somehow. I can’t get a straight answer from him, but here I am liking the conversation anyway. But now I’m afraid to ask more questions about his parents, about Canada, even about June.

The bed shifts as Younghyun pushes himself up to sit and my hands fall to my knees. He tilts his head curiously at me, the look in his eyes is similar to the way he answered my post-game interview. When I asked him how it felt like to win, the playfulness to his character vanished into someone I almost didn’t recognize. Good, he said. He said it felt good to win.

I break contact first, feeling the hitch in my chest. “I…should go check on your ice.”

Younghyun doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. He just keeps his eyes on me as I scramble off the bed and out the door. I stamp my feet on the carpeted hallway floor to regain some sense of here and now. My hands are shaking and I hear my blood rushing to my ears. What just happened in there?

I turn down the corner and go down the stairs and left into the narrow corridor that leads to the kitchen. At the last couple of steps, I overhear voices muffled by the whirring sounds of the ice maker. I slow to a stop recognising who’s speaking. It’s Sungjin. And June.

“I thought you weren’t staying,” he says.

“I wasn’t going to,” June answers tersely.

“Younghyun’s here,” he says. “Is that why you’re here?”

A long moment passes. “That is why.”

“Because it’s safer when he’s around?” There’s a bite to Sungjin’s tone that feels off somehow. I’ve never heard him talk like that before. Especially not about a teammate.

June chuckles under her breath, but it’s humourless. “That’s the word you’re using?”

“What word would you have me use?”

“Is that your choice of word because last year when he wasn’t—”

“Last year when Younghyun wasn’t around, what?” A beat passes before Sungjin speaks again. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you. None of these guys would. I—”

“And nothing happened,” she says firmly.

“Nothing happened, huh.”

June takes a breath and I hear the trickling of ice cubes into a plastic container.

Panic courses through me and as quietly as I can, I run halfway back up the stairs and pretend to be on my way down the hall just in time as June comes out of the kitchen. “Hey!” Shit. Do I sound guilty? I swallow a breath. “I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

She lifts the ice bag in her hand. “Had to wait for the ice dispenser to freeze things.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Did he give you shit about soft hands, too?” she asks. If I hadn’t accidentally eavesdropped on her very stressful conversation with Sungjin, I wouldn’t even think they had one. I wouldn’t have suspected a thing.

“Oh, yeah.” It’s not a lie. He really did. And I hope if it comes out weird, she just assumes it’s because Younghyun was just being Younghyun and now I’m all out of sorts because of him.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t let him wear you down. He’s a needy little shit when he wants to be and the moment you give in he’ll bite and never let go and then you’re stuck with him forever.”

At least I can tell that when she says that, there is genuine fondness despite the words. “He’s not your…uh…”

Her lips twist into a grimace. “Boyfriend?”

I shrug.

“Oh, god.” She shudders and gags. “No. I don’t have a death wish.”

I believe her. I don’t have a reason not to. We walk back to the room in silence, and I hope June is too lost in her thoughts to notice how out of breath I am. Or how I’m looking for any signs from her to clue me in regarding what that conversation with Sungjin was all about.

Because, obviously, something happened.

Chapter Text

“Hello? Anybody home?”

I swat Jimin’s hand away from my face. “I’m thinking.”

We’re at the quad during one of our breaks in between our morning classes with cups of iced coffee between us. It’s been two weeks and two games since Initiation Night, and the team won one and lost one. While the team assures me it’s all well and good and shouldn’t be surprising, I can’t help but think about the implications on the members.

Fine.

I can’t help but think of how it affects one specific member.

The one who feels good about winning.

Ugh.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Massaging my temples, I groan, “This video project is driving me nuts.”

It’s Tuesday, and yesterday and Sunday gave me a much needed break from hockey and filming so I spent it going over my notes, my footage, and thinking of how to put this together. From the general tone of the coverage the team has received, the interviews from the coaches, and the initial interviews with Sungjin and the first years, it’s telling that this is a championship team. I keep wondering if I should push for what makes a championship team a championship team because it’s far more easier for an audience to root for the underdogs because we see ourselves in them. 

And yet there exists more than one way to be considered the underdogs, or the dark horse, or whatever spin one might attach to this story. Just because the guys kept winning, just because they came from a system that offers them support—and gladly—doesn’t mean they don’t work as hard. It doesn’t mean they don’t sacrifice just as much. Privilege in one aspect of their lives doesn’t mean they enjoy the same comforts everywhere else.

A lesser storyteller might dig for dirt on the team, expose some scandal or allude to corruption. Another storyteller might attempt to dig deeper looking for sob stories fuelling the constant willingness to go through training six days a week, ice time, weight room time, game tape viewing, and strategy meetings; to put jocks on the spot and make them cry. Oliver Kim would do that. He’s the type to take something innocent and taint it. The type to take something people love and spin it around and tell everyone why your love is wrong. And any of those ideas would sell, perhaps. But that’s also why in some aspects of our academic career, Oliver might say I lost to him. Because I always insist on my own way despite the direction the people in charge want me to take.

Jimin props her chin on her the heel of her palm. “That bad, huh.”

She’s being vague on purpose and I just want to spill my guts and tell her everything—about Younghyun, about Sungjin, about June—but what do I even say? Where do I even begin? How do I even broach the topic of the men’s hockey team being more nuanced than I gave them credit for?

You don’t.

You can’t. Not without having all your facts. This is the part of the project, halfway in, where there’s too much information but you don’t know what to do with them just yet. I know this process because I’ve gone through it all through out middle school and high school when I started making and editing videos. I know this, but the stress never easier to handle. The more I learn it seems the more I realise how much more I don’t know.

I’ve lost count how many times I’ve replayed Younghyun’s post-interview footage from that first game. Tens, maybe even close to a hundred, of times and I still can’t place the look in his eyes. The succeeding interviews with the other members and the group interviews provide insight, but not enough and never the right kind. At every replay I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something, a key point that I have yet to unravel. Every time I feel like I’m on to something, just when I think I have an answer to my questions, another set of mysteries open up and I’m too lost down this rabbit hole to climb my way out.

The worst part of it is I don’t want out of this mess until I have all the answers.

And I want to know everything.

Deep down, I know the story here, the angle, is becoming obvious to me, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to do.

***

June and Matthew are sitting under a tree, but nothing comes after that phrase no matter what that playground taunt might tell you. The Natural Sciences building is right in between the main quad and the main building, and in front of it is a sprawling landscaped lawn students take well advantage of during perfect early afternoon weather days such as this one. They share a picnic blanket spread on the grass. Matthew is lying on his back, biology book on his stomach and his arm slung over his eyes, taking a nap while June is flopped down on her stomach, pencil between her teeth, with her monster text book in front of her on a bookstand. Both of them are wearing their team hoodies, dark grey with the hockey team logo front and center.

I take a picture of them on my phone just because they look so much like a stock photo.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I say, walking up to them.

June looks up and waggles her fingers at me—first as a hi and then as an offer to sit with them. I have time before my next class so I join them, setting my things down on the grass and myself at the edge of the blanket. Looking back, I can’t remember if I’ve ever spent time just sitting out here enjoying the weather. The air is crisp without the nip and the sky is clear. If I’m not in my editing bay, I’m in the library or the archives. When was the last time I’ve seen the sun?

Matthew stirs in his sleep, lifting his arm and cracking one eye open. When he sees it’s just me, one corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. “Oh, hey. It’s just you.”

Were they expecting anyone else?

“It’s weird seeing you outside the rink,” I admit. About as weird as that conversation I didn’t mean to overhear between June and Sungjin. I can’t get it off my mind. I’ve replayed that moment in my head for about as much as I replayed Younghyun’s videos.

June takes the pencil out of her teeth. “Hard to imagine them doing anything else but chase a puck around with a stick, isn’t it?” June’s tone isn’t a dig at me exactly. I’ve gotten used to the lack of emotions in her regular speaking voice and the irony in her humour, which is why I can’t let go of Initiation Night. “The B in BM actually means brain, not big.”

Matthew reaches out to poke her cheek, but ends up booping her nose instead. “You’re such a fucking ray of sunshine.”

Hockey gods, please grant me the honour of booping this fucking ray of sunshine’s nose, too.

“Why do they call you that?” It’s about time I get through the Easy Round with some semblance of speed.

“Everyone goes through Jae’s baptism during initiation,” June answers. “He made it official then because the first time we met he said those words to me exactly like that. You’re such a fucking ray of sunshine. And then it stuck.”

“You got initiated?” Yes, that’s shock. Not of the mild variety.

“Yeah,” June answers, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Last year when I joined the team.”

Something doesn’t add up because the mention of last year’s initiation triggers a response I was not expecting from her. Perhaps it’s inappropriate affect, like laughing when you’re not supposed to.

Matthew throws his head back and laughs. “Worst initiate ever.”

June kicks at his legs. “I can still feel the bruises, you wet sock.”

“What did they make you do?” I can’t decide if I should be horrified for June or if I should be horrified for Matthew for being called a wet sock.

“I can’t skate,” June confesses, bashfully. She covers her face with her hands. “And the thing happens at the rink and I can’t skate.”

“Yeah, and Sungjin held your hand the entire time and you still fell. Hard.”

“Shut up,” June whines, kicking at Matthew again. “It’s not my fault I have the coordination and the agility of a dead rock.”

A phone starts trilling on top of a backpack and Matthew reaches for it to shut down the alarm. “ Aw, man. Nap time’s over. Why can’t we just play hockey all day long?”

“Because,” June says, highlighting a line on her textbook. “The B and M in BM stands for Biology Major. You’re gonna be a doctor when you grow up,” June teases. “Just like your parents.”

“Why can’t we all be Toronto and have ice hockey superstar dads.”

June shoots him down with a look, and Matthew has the decency to look contrite. Judging by the look June gives Matthew, it’s a sensitive topic even within the team. Somehow, it always circles back to Toronto. I can still remember the days when Kang Younghyun and the hockey team weren’t a fixture in my life.

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

“Oh, damn,” June mutters when Younghyun drops to his haunches next to me. “Now that you’re here we have to stop talking about you.”

A feel a prickle behind my ears at his sudden appearance, but it’s not entirely unwelcome. Because, you know, it’s totally normal to look at someone when they’ve just intruded on your ongoing conversation with someone else, I don’t fight the urge to check him for any physical signs he’s hurting. He’s wearing a maroon button-down. The color looks good on him. Also, he’s wearing glasses. Looks good him, too

Younghyun laughs. “Don’t let my presence stop you. I’m just stopping by before Philo.” He turns to me with a smug smile. “Hey, you. Wanna walk together?”

Both June and Matthew snort.

“Smooth, man,” Matthew says, pulling himself up to sit up. It’s too late not to imagine him doing actual sit ups so I just let it happen and let the vision induce a flood of pink sparkles in my head. “Ten out of ten.”

Yes, sir. Ten out of ten indeed.

Matthew, I mean.

Not the devil beside me.

Obviously.

Younghyun sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry. “Don’t you two have labs right now?”

June checks the time on her wristwatch and groans. “I am so not ready for this quiz.”

***

No practice game after class means I have time for myself. Which is good because I have homework and I need to study. Naturally, I’m lingering in our classroom as soon as Philosophy class ends not-waiting for Younghyun. I am simply deciding where to go and his next moves determines the outcome of my evening. If he’s headed to the library, then that’s where I am not going.

“What is it?” Younghyun asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“I, uh…” Perfect. I’m so good at this. My two brain cells finally catch up. “I’m headed to the library. You?”

Oh, the mortification.

“Same. Want to walk to the library together?”

There was a time when I didn’t have to listen to his cocky remarks or see his rogue grins or get drawn into almost-charming banter I have no interest in, and I miss the good old days.

“You should come with us to breakfast tomorrow,” he says, out of the blue. “If you don’t have class in the morning.”

Every morning after training, the boys have breakfast at this family restaurant a few minutes walk from the rink. It’s team tradition, I’m told. I haven’t been to breakfast with the team since I don’t always go to morning practices because it’s morning. And when I do, I’m usually out the rink before they’re done from the locker rooms because I have to run to the film labs for extra credit work. 

I can skip helping out at the labs tomorrow.

What’s one day?

“Sure,” I answer, feeling a little blip of excitement. “I need to schedule more interviews with you guys anyway. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Great,” he says, stepping aside and letting me walk out of our classroom door first. “I’ll make sure you get a seat next to Sungjin.”

“That’s not necessary,” I tell him. “Anywhere is fine.”

“Yeah, but constance is key. I told you I’ll get him to ask you out, didn’t I?”

For the Kang Younghyun Special from yours truly. The blip in my stomach sinks into a dark swirl in my gut. “Right. Your business proposal.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, clearing my throat from the little tinge of annoyance. “I haven’t forgotten either. I have so many shots and videos of you, I feel like a fansite admin. How much do you think your videos are worth?”

Younghyun just laughs softly and I can’t help but feel like I said the wrong thing. I hate this feeling. I hate not knowing what the right thing to do is. Weeks knowing him, and all I really know about him is that he can be unpredictable, and at the end of the day that means absolutely nothing.

“A lot, probably,” he says after we’ve started down the winding path back to the library.

I’m about to make a snarky comeback about how full of himself he is, but what he says next throws me off my insult game.

The mask of sarcasm and insouciance disappears for a moment. “From an award-winning filmmaker and documentarian? More than my career’s worth, probably.”

“For sure,” I say, defaulting to our usual state of affairs. I have to admit, it’s a tad disconcerting to see Younghyun retreat into his mind and his thoughts. This is such a new side to Younghyun, I can’t help but want to know more. “Are you ever going to tell me what it’s for?”

“Maybe,” he turns to me like I’m supposed to read the answer in his eyes.

“Because I need to know what I’m editing for.”

“My love for hockey, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

But it’s not obvious at all. No doubt, Younghyun loves hockey but it’s more than that, and I can’t break through his defences long enough for even the tiniest peek. It’s maddeningly frustrating and intriguing.

As we make our way across our picturesque campus, I spy a familiar black cap and grey hoodie leaning against a large tree just across the  Natural Sciences building, waiting beneath the growing shadows of the evening.

If Younghyun sees it too, he doesn’t let it on.

Chapter Text

This is the breakfast of champions.

We’re sitting in a booth at the family restaurant, ironically called School Cafeteria, that the team frequents. They’re greeted with familiar smiles and warm teasing from the aunties running the place. The usual seating arrangements are taken—Younghyun, Jae, Sungjin on side, Dowoon, Wonpil, and myself on the other. Orders are placed. Food is served. Also, coffee. And for Jae, a yogurt smoothie with artificial strawberry flavouring.

Jae has his phone attached to a gimbal all throughout breakfast—and an action cam on his helmet throughout training this morning—for a special episode for his vlog: A Jae in the Life. He’s showing me this morning’s practice footage, laughing out the entire history of Wonpil’s checking clinic: from curling into a ball on the ice to speeding away before anyone can even get close to him.

“Hockey is a contact sport,” Jae explains to his camera in a voice that’s too loud and too enthusiastic than what I’m used to in my own work.

“More like a collision sport,” Wonpil complains from across him, and Jae swivels the camera at Wonpil’s face. “I told you not to check me!”

“I still think we could make a play out of that, Cap take notes. As I was saying,” Jae continues, focusing back on himself, “before I was rudely interrupted”—he turns to me—“this is where I add in some animation and stuff explaining  checking is when you disrupt an opponent’s play or take possession of the puck.”

“Jae,” I tell him, placatingly, “I’ve seen your vlogs. You’re doing great.”

Jae is a child of the world wide web and it shows with his gratuitous use of memes and pop culture references. Most people might think it random or shallow, but there’s a subtle art that he applies and the fact that it doesn’t show is testament to his intellect. Also, Jae’s a natural. His interviews are one of my favourites. I can’t wait to sit him down for a serious one-on-one and pick his brain apart.

“Awesome,” he self-cheers. “You gotta meet Sammy, though. Next game. You two are gonna get along so good. Anyway,” he turns back to his recording. “Hockey is a contact sport.”

I’ve heard them mention Sammy Kim before. He’s the home-game pre and post-game DJ and runs a web commentary on topics of interest within the university. He also used to be Matthew’s roommate back in the first year dorms. Seems like a fun guy. I make a note on my phone to remind me to check out his vlogs and writeups.

“Wait,” I turn to Wonpil. “You’re doing better on the ice now. You didn’t freak out the last game when someone not-tackled you.”

Wonpil makes a crying face. “That’s because Brian Kang works harder than the devil.”

“Really? Brian Kang?”

“The Canadian version. There’s a difference from our Toronto. You know this,” Jae answers, which still doesn’t explain anything but they’ve moved on to the rest of the story so I don’t push for elaboration.

Wonpil takes his cue after that. “Right as soon as the problem was brought up by Coach Tae, Toronto would wake me up every day at, like, four in the morning so we can practice at the rink before everyone else came in for training. He said I’m not giving up on you until you’re not scared anymore.”

Younghyun makes a strangled sound from his corner of the booth. “I did not say that!”

“Maybe not in those words, exactly,” Wonpil says, tilting his head in thought. “But that’s what I heard.”

“You’re acting like you never had to wake up early in the morning for training,” Younghyun jokes. “You’re a figure skater. You had a drill sergeant for a coach.”

“Be that as it may,” Wonpil defends, “I’ve never had anyone run me into the glass before, okay?”

Laughter peals across the table and, more than the heart-stopping action on the ice, this is the story no one else gets to see about the team. Younghyun looks a lot more like his usual self this morning. Compared to last night when he’d been quiet and brooding as we studied until past midnight, he’s been all laughs and teasing since training. I’m almost convinced it’s the hockey that made him feel better but that could just be the endorphins because after our conversation after Initiation I’m not so sure anymore. He catches my gaze on him, and smirks before his eyes flit toward Sungjin across me.

Sungjin is just watching the team and their antics, leaning back against the seat and taking sips of his coffee. He’s wearing his favorite black cap but a different jacket. Every time the bell on the door rings, he checks on who has just arrived. This time, when the little bell pings and he looks up, a near imperceptible smile ghosts over his features.

I ask myself how I feel about all this, and my only honest answer is curiosity. But curiosity is always a good thing. Curiosity means you want to get to know someone better. And I do want to get to know Sungjin better. I shouldn’t be losing sight of what, or who, I want.

Before I can interpret what I’m seeing, June and Matthew arrive together. She asked him to stay behind while she finished up inventory and stocked the newly delivered supplies in the storage room. Younghyun volunteered to help her—I get the feeling it’s part of their routine—but June rolled her eyes and turned him down before asking Matthew instead.

Younghyun full-on whined, “You’re replacing me?

“He’s taller,” June simply replied, “And bigger.” 

Which made sense at the time because heavy boxes and high shelves. But in retrospect…? And after their next exchange?

“You stood me up last night, too.”

It was an odd thing to say because Younghyun hadn’t said anything about meeting with June at all last night. When we passed by the Natural Sciences building, he could have mentioned it but he said nothing. At the library, he wasn’t obsessing over his phone or finding excuses to leave the while we were studying. Hours and he acted like there was nowhere else he was supposed to be.

After a beat, June answered “You’re the one who didn’t show up last night, you turd.”

Matthew pulls up two chairs and sets them at the end of the table while June goes to the counter and orders for the two of them. The next time the bell on the door rings, Sungjin doesn’t pay attention anymore. He’s on his phone now, instead.

“Bro,” Jae says, flicking his brows at Matthew. “Is Sunshine’s tutoring really worth the price? I feel like she’s hazing you as cruel and unusual punishment as revenge for all the things since last year. She made you pick up the team laundry too, didn’t she? Damn.”

Matthew leans forward and chooses his words carefully. “Dude, if I don’t ace my midterms I’m getting benched. That’s cruel and unusual punishment. Some heavy lifting here and there is a small price to pay.”

Jae freezes for a split-second, stricken. “It’s midterms? Since when was it midterms?”

Wonpil rolls his eyes. “Not yet, genius. Attend class once in a while, why don’t you?”

“I attend class!”

Younghyun is rubbing his eyes from amused frustration, grinning and shaking his head. “You attend class to argue with your professors,” he wheezes. “You argued your way to a decent GPA last semester.”

Jae huffs as though this should be obvious. “Why’d you think I took this major? I wanna argue for a living. Not a good enough reason, probably.”

It dawns on me, just now, that these guys will probably have lives outside hockey after hockey. Despite being a championship team, they won’t all get drafted into professional teams and go into hockey full-time for the rest of their lives. Right now they still have their senior year ahead of them, and they’re not being asked to make a decision at this moment, but what happens when the inevitable passage of time comes for them? For us?

But the weather outside is too good and the company inside is even better so I ignore the thought and decide to think about the implications at another date.

“Uhm.” The usually quiet Dowoon speaking up all of a sudden catches the attention of the table. “Uhm, isn’t that—isn’t that guy the guy from Papa Tuan’s?”

Everyone turns to the counter where some guy is chatting an obviously not interested June up. Anyone can see that there is absolutely nothing this guy can say or do to even catch June’s attention despite his efforts, or perhaps because of too much effort. He’s leaning far into her personal bubble and he’s acting like he’s got it all. He even has the gall to touch her hair, and that’s asking for a death wish.

Matthew swears out loud. “Does this dude ever give up?”

“His tenacity is to be admired,” Jae says, annoyed. “But when the lady says no she means no.”

Younghyun moves to get up but he’s locked in the corner. “I’ll go.”

“Give her a minute,” Matthew says, calmly. “You know she can handle herself. She’s not helpless. The douchebag needs to back down from her because she said so, not because some other dude made him leave her alone. Otherwise, he’ll just keep coming back when we’re not around.”

“Besides,” Wonpil adds, “You already took your turn last time. Who’s turn is it?”

Jae counts off names on his long, slender fingers. “I took one the other night at Papa Tuan’s. So it’s Toronto, BM, Yours Truly, and then Twinkletoes. Twinkletoes, you go.”

“It’s fine.” Younghyun taps his seatmate’s shoulder. “Jae, can you let me pass? I’ll go.”

“We have a system, man,” Jae answers, opening his palms. “If we don’t abide by the system, chaos and anarchy will ensue.”

“Maybe you should let him go.” Wonpil looks serious. “I don’t think my approach will work on this one. Or maybe let BM go. Might need a different style.”

“I’ll handle it.” BM pushes his seat back and goes to stand next to June, not doing anything. He just stands a good pace away from her on the counter while waiting for their orders.

I turn to Wonpil, confused. “Style?”

It’s heart-warming the way the team looks out after their members like this. Often, I feel like the fly on the wall no one notices until someone points it out but even when I’m behind the camera there’s always someone making me feel included. Wonpil is one of them.

“Oh, it’s not on purpose.” He pauses. “Like Toronto’s Boyfriend Style approach. It’s just that because Toronto is just like that. Long Beach brings up some debate topic until the other guy gives up, BM…well there’s a reason there’s a B in BM. And me? I give them a real cold look.”

I can imagine the spine-chilling stare and shudder.

“What’s your style?” I ask Sungjin.

Sungjin’s eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by the question.

“Cap doesn’t have a style,” Wonpil answers. “He’s not part of the rotation.”

My first thought is Captain’s Privilege, but Sungjin isn’t the type to accept unequal treatment from his teammates, especially not reverence such as this. Not when his default setting is to swoop in and save the day.

“He’s not?” I furrow my brows. “Why not?”

Sungjin nods. And then he slowly shakes his head like he’s thought of this before too but never really asked out loud. “Good question.”

“That’s ‘cause you weren’t there,” Wonpil explains like Sungjin should already know this.

“Yeah,” Jae pipes in. “That was after you left to walk Sunshine home Initiation Night last year.”

Sungjin’s swift response bothers me somehow. “Toronto wasn’t there either.”

“Yeah, but he’s like OG,” Jae answers with a shrug. “They’ve known each other since  even before freshmen year. Furthermore, he specifically gave clear instructions to keep an eye on Sunshine.”

Sungjin is bothered by this, but I can’t seem to put my finger on any reason why he should be. My imagination is taking me to wild places and if I don’t check myself, I’ll be ignoring the facts I have and jump to theories that are products of overthinking instead of critical thinking.

Younghyun just looks smug as always, the sharpness of his features emphasised by the all-knowing glint in his eyes. He rests his jaw against the back of his hand, and I can’t look away. A weird prickle starts behind my ears and runs up my scalp and down my collarbones and I’m tempted to touch the hollow beneath my throat to rub the spot where the warmth gathers. My face feels hot.

The conversation comes to a pause when June and Matthew return with their food and coffee, and it’s business as usual for the hockey team. I keep myself busy observing their interactions and talking to Sungjin—ignoring the way Younghyun glances at me like cat who’s found a mouse to play with. After breakfast, the team breaks off to go to their respective classes.

“Do you guys ever think that maybe we should have a theme song?” Jae says, throwing the doors open with both hands and strutting outside.

“For what?” Wonpil asks, trailing behind him.

“For everything.” Jae grins. “For when we walk into a place, for when we leave a place, when we get together as a group. My guy, for when we get on the ice! Like an opening sequence song, you know what I mean?”

“Like a sports anime opening?”

“Exactly that.”

I’m trailing behind them, caught between being embarrassed for them when people look their way or being proud to be a part of this group of oddballs.

Younghyun catches up to June and throws an arm around her shoulders and locking her agains this chest. “Buy me lunch since I know you miss me so much.”

I’m walking next to them and shaking my head. Lunch already? We just had breakfast.

June’s eyes flicker toward me and the corner of her lips twitch. “Can’t. I…have that thing.”

“What thing?” Younghyun’s jaw falls open, looking insulted he’s not being made a priority. “We haven’t hung out in forever. What thing?”

June slaps Matthew’s chest with the back of her hand. “We have that thing.”

Matthew has no idea what the thing is about and it shows on his face. Everybody can tell. “Uh. Okay?” Everyone can see him whisper to June, and most of us are close enough to hear him. It’s not like it’s not obvious. “You know I have class, right?”

June puffs her cheeks and wrinkles her nose. “You’re on your own, Toronto.”

Then she ducks away from his arm and drags Matthew by the shirt to the direction of the Science Complex. Jae heads off with Sungjin to the direction of their buildings, and so do Wonpil and Dowoon. Now I’m left with a pouty Younghyun.

I shrug at him when he looks at me with an annoyed face. “I don’t have class until after lunch today. We can do your interview now if you want.”

A slow grin breaks on his face.

Chapter Text

“You shouldn’t be looking at the camera like that.”

“Like how?

“Pornographically.”

With an aggravating smirk, Younghyun leans back against the brick wall and tilts his head upwards, exposing the long column of his neck and teasing a peek of his clavicles under his shirt. It’s indecent. And wrongfully enticing because it can easily tempt some random person into sitting right there with him and pulling down the fabric of his collar and nibbling at the skin there. One can only imagine how scandalous that would be if that’s the scene some innocent bystander would accidentally walk into.

No, that won’t do.

That won’t do at all.

Few places on campus offer me good lighting, decent acoustics, and an aesthetically pleasing backdrop for when I don’t have a pre-booked studio for interviews, and the walkway between the fifth floor of the chemistry building and the biology building is perfect with how it angles against the early morning sun, the backdrop of trees, and the relative peace and quiet it offers even while classes are in session. The discovery wasn’t serendipitous. I often come here to consult with professors and graduate students regarding ocean acidification and ocean chemistry in several of my film projects and this is where I’d ask them questions. None of my previous subjects were this inconvenient, however.

“Right,” Younghyun drawls, “Look at you. Not at the camera.”

I hate that he’s echoing my earlier instructions in this context. An hour into this interview and did I expect anything else? Watching him through my screen, I ask, “I have more questions.”

“As expected.”

Jerkface.

“You’re a business major.”

The question seems to strike a chord in his head somewhere because he shifts into proper enough interview position and rights himself against the wall. And by proper enough, I mean to say right now he at least looks like he’s here for conversation with more spoken words and less…body language. “I am.”

“Can you tell me about that?”

He shrugs but I can tell he’s thinking about how to answer my question. “It’s a perfectly reasonable major. It’s a good plan in case the hockey thing doesn’t work out. When I got accepted, I thought to myself I have to think this through. It’s good to not just be the one thing all the time. What happens if hockey doesn’t work out? It’s good to have options.”

“You didn’t think you’d lead the team to your Frozen Four finish the past two years?”

“We didn’t win, though.”

“You made it far enough. Coach Taec and Coach Yubin say it doesn’t matter how the team performs, you’ve got scouts looking at you anyway. You could do this professionally after you graduate. You don’t even have to graduate, I’ve heard you’ve been getting offers as early as last year?”

Comparatively speaking, there’s quite the back read on articles written about Younghyun and his potential. Analysts are saying he’s wasting his time here in university when he could be training with the best; he’s wasting time in this country when he doesn’t have to be—when he could have had it all if he hadn’t left Toronto. What reason could he have had to come here when his parents both established their home on the basis of their careers? It’s true that the times have evolved, and Younghyun being here is a viable option for him, but why would he leave the home he’s known all his life?

Nothing about Kang Younghyun makes sense.

He pulls his knee up to his chest and rests his arm over his kneecap. “So I have.”

Despite my curiosity, I don’t mean to ask about Toronto if only because I don’t know what I can do with that information within the context of this film project. Asking him about it felt personal in a way that if I bring it up, I mean to talk. So instead I ask him to tell me about hockey, the team, the coaching staff, university support, and the ongoing season. We talk like this for an hour, have talked like this in varying degrees. How is it possible for someone to give me so much useful information while still not telling me anything.

From a professional standpoint, I have everything I need. It’s just frustrating when you know there’s more and you’re not getting to breakthroughs. When you feel like you’ve hit a wall and have no clue moving forward.

What it does is remind me of how little I know him.

Not Brian.

Not Toronto.

I don’t really know Younghyun.

“Are you considering them? The offers.”

He nods, somberly. “I know how lucky I am to be getting them at all, but I don’t want to rush into it only to find out I missed out on something in the end. I chose this major and I like to think I’m being more than a mediocre student because being a student also matters to me. Hockey means something to me.” He pauses as if to let the words sink in. To me or to him, I can’t tell. “But I also don’t want to feel like I’m stealing someone else’s opportunities before I’ve fully made up my mind about mine. Life’s like that. Sometimes you feel like you’ve stolen from someone because they hesitated or weren’t paying attention.”

“But in your case, aren’t you the one looking the other way so someone can steal that opportunity from you?”

“Only if the chance was mine to begin with.”

“It becomes yours if you take it, isn’t that how it works?”

“It works if you’re at the right place at the right time.”

“Aren’t you already? Aren’t you afraid that if you don’t take this now, if you don’t push forward now, you’ll get left behind?”

He chuckles under his breath. “It’s a marathon, not a race. It’s okay to be slow.”

A thought whispers into my ear: the brightest flames burn the fastest. Younghyun isn’t here to play around. He’s here to make a mark. To burn so deeply into history he can’t be forgotten.

In the first time since, like, ever, I get it.

I know exactly what he means because that’s what I’ve been doing all my life too. All I want is to make a difference, somehow. In a way that’s mine alone. Without the shadow of who my parents are. My film projects are a way for someone to look back from the future and see a glimpse of the past through my eyes. From a perspective no one forced on me or expected of me or think should define me.

I stop recording and move to sit next to him against the wall. “You can’t do that in Toronto, can you?”

“Do what?”

“Take it slow.” I place my hand between us, maybe an inch away from his hand. “At a pace that’s yours.”

He hums in response.

“People will always be looking at you over your shoulder wondering out loud why you haven’t gone as far as they think you should have because you’ve been given such a head start solely based on who your parents are. Like they have any say at all at how you should live your life. The pressure can be…debilitating.”

Younghyun doesn’t ask the question out loud, but I can read it in his eyes.

“Have you seen that one historical movie with the dragons and the assassins?”

“The one that came out recently?”

“My father produced that movie.” It’s not information I voluntarily share with people on account being judged prematurely. My father’s movies range from mainstream blockbuster to the rare cinematic gem, but he’s more known for his psychological thrillers across sub-genres. Always fun to be associated with those. Always fun to be asked why I didn’t go into acting instead. Because, and I quote, with the right fixing up, I too could fit exactly into the society’s ever changing, ever hypocritical and twisted standards of beauty. “Among other movies. He won that big, fancy, serious international award.”

A grin quirks on his lips. “And now here you are working on save the Earth documentaries.”

I raise a brow. “How is that any different from taking up business and economics as a major?”

“Fair point.”

So many choices and I still went for this life anyway. I could have gone into the sciences, chosen a field that had absolutely nothing to do with media, but I can’t help but love what I love. And I do love what I’m doing now—the amount of work that drains away at my days is proof of that.

It’s the same for Younghyun too, I realise. We’re both just trying to prove a point.

“What’s the video really for?” I ask.

Younghyun leans forward, closing the gap between us, and there isn’t that much of a gap to begin with. “You’re never giving that up, are you?”

“You know I won’t.”

“Too bad I’m just as stubborn as you,” he says, so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

My eyes drop to his lips, falling right into his deflection. I look back up and he knows his tactics are working. Jerk.

Smug as he is, his eyes are molten as though he’s as affected as I am.

If either of us just lean in the slightest bit…

No.

I shouldn’t.

Kissing Younghyun isn’t on the agenda here. Period.

I’m not attracted to Younghyun, and I don’t want to kiss him. End of story.

Except…well, it doesn’t feel like the end of anything. Warmth begins behind my ears and goes throughout my entire body, and my hands are trembling not from nerves but anticipation. When I picture his mouth pressed against mine, my heart races faster than a Wonpil’s favorite snare-and-kicks track.

Younghyun inches closer. Our thighs are touching now, and either I’m hallucinating it, or I can actually see his pulse throbbing in the center of his throat.

He can’t possibly want this…can he?

My palms grow damp, but I resist wiping them on the front of my jeans because even though I know that he knows how unnerved I am, I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. I’m wholly aware of the heat radiating from his body, through his pullover and his jeans, the faint scent of his woodsy cologne, the slight curve of his mouth as he awaits my next move.

“Stubborn,” he mocks. “In more ways than one, aren’t you?”

Now I’m bristling. He knows. Of course Kang Younghyun knows what I’m thinking. What I’m feeling. He takes weird satisfaction in observing his prey before hunting them down and…and then what?

Is that it?

In the wildlife documentary that is Kang Younghyun, he’s the hunter and I’m the hunted?

Admittedly, the thought sends a little thrill down my spine.

Screw it.

It’s just a kiss, right? I might not even like it. He might even be bad at it. Taking him by surprise and seeing the look of shock on his totally unnecessarily attractive face will be reward enough.

Who am I kidding?

Younghyun’s probably really good at kissing too. Just like how he’s good at everything else. It’s really becoming a nuisance.

Arching a brow, I reach up and touch his cheek.

His breath hitches.

I sweep my thumb over his jaw, stalling, waiting to see if he’ll stop me or say something smart, and when he doesn’t, I slowly bring my mouth to his.

The second our lips meet, the strangest thing happens. Kissing Younghyun is hot and sweet and I feel it all over my body, behind my ears and even the backs of my knees. Holy shit, I need to not want to grab his shirt and pull him closer and kiss him harder. But then Younghyun’s fingers tease at the fabric of my sweater before taking a fistful and tugging me closer.

He stops kissing me for a moment and I hear myself whine, but then I realise he’s checking if this is still okay and if this is still what I want and…

Holy hockey gods, save me from myself.

This should be my cue to leave.

Instead, I lean in for another kiss.

And another.

And another.

I really want to say that all this is an accident, obviously. That somehow I tripped and fell and, oh no! I fell onto Younghyun’s lips exactly the way the laws of physics would totally predict and prove with equations and things. But there’s a deliberateness in the way his lips are moving across and against mine, slow brushes and deep strokes, and I don’t know anymore.

And that’s exactly what has me pulling away from the kiss in a start. Younghyun is as shocked as I am, understandably, but infinitely more in control of his emotions. I push away with the grace of a newborn foal, and with shaking hands pack up my camera. Or I try to. My fingers are too shaky to do anything so I just fold the tripod’s legs and hug it against my chest.

“So, like, uhm.”

Younghyun just leans back against the wall again. It’s true what they say about lips looking like they’ve been kissed because that’s what his mouth looks like. Like he’s been kissed. By me. That maybe they need to be kissed more. By me?

I don’t know.

“I’ll see you around. Good talk.”

And then I power walk out of the open walkway, out into the lab corridors, and down the stairwell, until I break into the main lobby.

Where I run into none other than Park Sungjin.

Because the hockey gods smile upon me so much I’m blessed beyond comprehension.

“Are you okay? You look…” he gestures at his face. “Flushed.”

“Yeah,” I breathe, throwing one hand back to gesture vaguely at the stairwell and the  anchoring my tripod against my chest. “Stairs, you know. Lots of them. Cardio and stuff. Really gets the circulation going. I can feel all that blood and oxygen really going up my brain. Wow. What a workout. What are you doing here?”

He lifts an amused brow but doesn’t comment any further. “I’ve got a consultation.”

“For chemistry?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “That’s why I scheduled a consultation. I have no background in chemistry. I just build stuff.”

“Right!” I laugh. Kind of. It’s kind of pathetic. “I do that a lot here, too. Consult with professors, I mean. For my film stuff. Actually, I do it a lot it kinda makes me wonder how I never run into June around here. She’s takes a bunch of chem, right?”

Why am I still talking? Younghyun can come down at any minute and Sungjin will put two and two together and even if he’s in engineering I really hope he’s bad at math because I can’t deal with this right now.

“I…” he tilts his head in thought. “…really wouldn’t know. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” So obviously doing peachy. “Anyway! I should, uhm, gotta go. Good luck on the thing. I’ll see you around!”

And then I power walk all the way out the building.

Maybe later, if I ever get the feel of kissing Younghyun out of my head and off my lips, I can review that little bit of interaction with Sungjin without glossing over the fact he didn’t have any of his stuff with him.

Chapter Text

Of course it’s awkward.

But only on the inside.

Outside, it’s all just peachy.

Although from a certain point of view, it can still be viewed as the best possible outcome. There are worse things, after all. Like he could have laughed in my face. Or we could have escalated to the point of no return. Both worst case scenarios carry more than the consequences of embarrassment, the implications of any of those two options would determine the rest of my involvement with the team and would snowball into how I present the story in my film. Anything else in between would amount to the same place where we are now. A weird kind of limbo of not knowing how to act with one another.

Or maybe that’s just me because he seemed absolutely fine yesterday in class. He acknowledged my presence and then proceeded to enjoy being at the receiving end of this girl’s flirtations. Not that it bothered me. In fact, I take it as a good thing. It means The Incident means nothing to him as it means nothing to me.

As far as I’m concerned, The Kiss didn’t happen. Kang Younghyun’s lips weren’t on mine, his hands weren’t on me, and I wasn’t making any of those needy sounds into his mouth.

None of it happened.

And because none of it happened, there’s no reason for me to stress about it.

Besides, I have other sources of stress. Oliver Kim is starting to grate on my nerves, asking about view counts and what other criteria will determine who gets the internship to Han Gain’s special documentary team next semester. The deal is for a global broadcasting channel that airs news, culture and tourism, sports, education, and environmentally relevant programs. Professor Han was tapped to produce a special on local biomes and culturally significant endemic species. Needless to say, whoever survives that internship without completely falling apart wins at life.

“The criteria is based solely on the panel’s decision. They want to see whose skills fit best with what they’re looking for. They’ll be looking at the total application package—personal and academic backgrounds.”

“You should have been disqualified from this,” Oliver says, eyeing me meaningfully from his side of the office. We never sit anywhere within reach of each other. For good reason. “Isn’t there such a thing as conflict of interest? Your connections should make you unqualified for this.”

He’s pulled this card before and Professor Han, being all about fairness and equal opportunities, has taken me out of competitions and other things I could have won if I joined. It’s frustrating when people look at your name, attach you to someone famous, and make decisions for you. But I understood Professor Han’s decisions then. I will understand them even now. Doesn’t mean I have to like whatever she decides.

I keep the anger from my face and my voice. “What connections? I’ve never worked for my father or his company. My name isn’t credited anywhere, not with him directly or any of his colleagues. Definitely not with this broadcasting company or its affiliates.”

Unlike Oliver, however, I can win based on academic background alone. I’ve done the work, checked as many boxes as I can in record time, and have enough foundation to work with wildlife. All I really need now is a double major, which I can apply for if that’s what it needs to prove I’m committed to this line of work.

“It’s a non-issue,” Professor Han says, cutting off Oliver’s line of reasoning before he gets too into it as he usually does. “Let’s focus on the content for now.”

“But she’s the CEO’s daughter, isn’t she? She stands to run the entire studio in the future.”

But Professor Han doesn’t take the bait and continues with her meeting brief for our quarterly assessment. I’m only half listening because now I’m angry when I don’t want to give Oliver Kim the privilege of riling me up so much. It’s not worth it. But it’s there anyway, the feeling that I have to do better. That I have to go a little harder. Make a better video. I won’t let Oliver get to where I want to go first.

After we’re dismissed, Oliver walks right alongside me. “Sports. Nice. That’s new for all of us.”

I know what he’s trying to do and it’s not working. “And you got what again? The university indie music scene? How’s that going for you?”

In some alternate universe where everything else is the same but this, I think Oliver and I could even be friends. We have the same taste in movies, thought within the same range of thought regarding said movies, and sometimes he’s nice enough to talk to. Of course, he just has to make an issue of who my dad is all the time. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. Like I chose this path because it would be the easiest way to a financially stable career. He always implied that all I had to do was show up, and every single time I showed up just to work harder than I have to. Just to prove I’m not a fraud.

“Good,” he says, cheeky like he already has a good angle on this story. I’m sure he does, but whatever. “Really good. Good luck with yours, I guess? May the best video win?”

I don’t even give him the effort it takes to roll my eyes. “You just focus on making a good video, okay?”

And then I cross the pergola from the media building to the south side of the quad where Jae and Wonpil are waiting for me.

***

We finish our interviews not without me questioning and checking my mental and emotional faculties at least twelve times in two hours. I stopped counting at twelve because I just lost it that one time Jae called Wonpil an idiot and Wonpil outright had a minor meltdown because apparently everyone keeps calling him that when he’s not. Or maybe it’s just Jae who keeps calling him that, that bit is all a blur to me.

So now we’re just hanging out here like we don’t have midterms next week to worry about. Although Wonpil says he’s already halfway through with his, by virtue of majoring in Undecided For Now, and Jae because…because he’s Jae. I always did like the quad the best because of the sense of familiarity it brings. It’s all stone tables and stone benches under big, leafy trees that are now beginning to turn deep shades yellow, and orange, and red, and everything smells crisp but at the same time mellow.

Wonpil flashes me a grin. “I know it’s midterms and everyone’s busy over Hell Week ver. 1.0 but it’s BM’s birthday on Sunday so we’re celebrating Saturday night after the Friday game. We’re gonna get dinner, then Papa Tuan’s. It’s just dinner, then some cake, then one round of drinks. Just one round. Promise.”

It’s never just dinner and cake and one round, and I wouldn’t put it past these guys to have more planned, even after a game. Maybe especially after a game. Never mind that it’s midterms. “You’re all going?”

Because, you know, I can’t bring myself to think about seeing Younghyun so soon again even within the context of a group dinner. But because nothing happened, it shouldn’t be an issue. Right?

Right. Because I felt absolutely nothing from that…incident.

Nothing.

“Of course, everyone’s going.” Jae pushes his glasses up his face and blinks. “Unless there’s someone you’re avoiding?”

I stifle any and all reactions. Would Jae know about anything about The Incident? Is Younghyun the type to talk about that? Brag about that stuff? “Uh…not that I’m aware of?”

“Oh.” Wonpil exchanges a glance with Jae. “I guess that’s good, but you know you can tell us. We want you there. I’m sure BM wants you there, too. If there’s anyone you want to avoid, just let us know. We’ll make sure you’re never in the same breathing space for more than whatever amount of time you deem is necessary for the obligatory faking friendship.”

Jae laughs a big laugh into his hands. “You let us know and we’ll handle it. But you’re not obligated to spend time with someone you don’t want to if you don’t want to. Let us know who it is, if they’re not that important we’ll just not invite them.”

Wonpil furrows his brows. “What if we’ve already invited them? We can’t just uninvite them.”

“Of course, we can!”

“That’s just rude.”

“Depends on the crime.” Jae turns back to me. “So who is it? If anyone’s been giving you problems, you let us know and we’ll…well we’ll get Cap to handle it.”

It’s Younghyun but probably not the in the way they think. “No, nothing like that for me.” And then after a moment’s thought, it hits me. “Has that happened before?”

“Well there was a time—”

Jae elbows Wonpil’s ribs before Wonpil can even finish that sentence.

Wonpil rubs his side aggrievedly. “I told you not to check me!”

“That wasn’t a check!” Jae then does the thing with his eyes that’s supposed to mean ‘You’re not supposed to talk about the thing you’re about to talk about to shut up before we get into trouble.’

Wonpil however, has other ideas. “I’m just saying it’s relevant to this discussion. We don’t even need an explanation. Just say so and we’ll make it work for you somehow. I mean, Sunshine didn’t have to tell us anything but we made sure Cap was never in her breathing space for a whole, long while until things were okay. Honestly, even now I don’t even know for sure if things are okay between them because it’s still definitely awkward, you know?”

Jae drops his forehead into his palm. “Dude, we’re not supposed to talk about that.”

“Why not? It’s over now, isn’t it? Kind of? I mean, they’re not totally icy to each other anymore like before. And they’re obviously not avoiding each other at get togethers anymore. Awkward is better than avoidance.”

Not that it was entirely avoidable to begin with. But one might be inclined to think that the team made time apart from each other a thing, too. These guys already spend so much time together, it still confounds me that they still want to spend even more time with each other. As if hockey and living together isn’t enough.

“I mean, do you even know what that was all about?” Wonpil continues, “because we never knew. We never asked. Sunshine didn’t really even say anything. All we know is that they were okay, and then they weren’t okay, and then now they’re just…you know.”

Jae shakes his head. “Maybe because it’s none of our business?”

“Well,” Wonpil huffs. “Maybe we should make it our business. Sunshine makes all of us her business, we’re supposed to look out for her too.”

I feel like I should step out of this conversation before I get too invested, but let’s face it. They’re talking about June and Sungjin and I’m already in too deep with that one to get out. Something happened Initiation Night, and maybe it’s completely not what I’m thinking but whatever it is, it’s affected their closest group of friends.

“I’m sure Toronto’s got that covered, you know.”

Wonpil doesn’t look convinced even though Jae makes a valid point. “I guess.”

“What? You don’t think so?”

I’m too enthralled by this conversation to even interrupt.

Wonpil runs his fingers through his hair. “You know how Toronto has this thing about carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders just because? Like it’s a burden he’s supposed to carry? And he’s, like, proud of it and he thinks that lets him be what he is and we can’t call him out for it?”

Jae nods sagely. “Carry on.”

“Well, he’s doing that for Dowoon now, kind of. I mean, with me it was helpful you know? And with Dowoon, they’re really training hard but at least it’s still during proper hours. But he doesn’t draw the same line with Sunshine. But Sunshine doesn’t need him to look out for her.”

Jae’s voice becomes quiet. “He just does that so it’s not like Sunshine’s looking out for him more than he looks out for her.”

There’s a quiet that follows, one that none of us are willing to acknowledge because it’s a conversation none of us should have been having but have had nonetheless. Perhaps they’ve become used to my presence behind the camera that the self-consciousness doesn’t translate so well in their minds anymore. Perhaps they needed a third-party objective opinion. Perhaps they just needed to let it out.

I’m not sure who they’re protecting anymore.

“But anyway,” Wonpil says, trying to sound casual. “BM’s birthday. You in?”

“Yeah,” I tell them. “I’ll come and meet you guys for dinner. And it’s all good, nothing to worry about here.”

It goes without saying, I know nothing and that we’ve talked about nothing. If only it were my place to tell them about what I overheard, then maybe we can make sense of what happened to June and Sungjin. But it’s not my story to tell.

My friends arrive to collect me before we head off to dinner, and I say goodbye to Wonpil and Jae. I can’t bring myself to tell Jimin and Yerin all the things I want to talk to them about. Not Younghyun or about hockey. Usually, I’m only ever this lost when I can’t figure out how to angle a project or when Professor Han is trying too hard to equalise the competition by giving everyone else a handicap except for me. I’m so worried that my friends would disapprove of how attached I am getting to, in their words, a bunch of jocks.

How am I even supposed to explain Younghyun? That in exchange for a video, he’s promised to get Sungjin to ask me out on a date. I’m worried that telling them will only get me a lecture because I’m supposed to be smarter than that.

I can’t explain my situation any more than I can explain wanting to see Younghyun again despite everything. So when they ask me what’s going on, I just put on a face and tell them all about Oliver’s little tantrum with Professor Han today.

Chapter Text

Matthew’s birthday bash begins at the hockey house.

“Are you ready for your evangelisation?” June asks when we round the corner from the main student residence avenue.

I don’t know how to answer that question so I just laugh nervously because what does that even mean? Why is that not a question I was asked during initiation but instead for a visit to the team’s residence building? It’s the Saturday before midterms, and the responsible student in me should be studying but we all need breaks once in a while, don’t we? And it’s Matthew’s birthday. In addition, the team won their last game. When was the last time I celebrated anyone else’s birthday? Jimin and Yerin don’t count. Which brings me to a big zero. Sad, I know.

On the flip side, I’ve made so many frenemies it almost cancels out my sad excuse for a social life.

June leads me down the row of older buildings. We do not appear to be in a hurry. “Are your friends coming over for dinner?”

“They said they really need to finish studying, but they’re dropping by Papa Tuan’s later.” It was a whole production number forwarding the invite from June to Jimin and Yerin. My friends were skeptical at first, and I completely understand being invited to a party where you don’t know anybody else in close degrees, but they’re giving the boys a chance. I really hope this shows the team in a good light because I’d like my all my friends to get along.

We stop in front of a four storey building that’s definitely seen it’s fair share of student athletes but still stands proud through the test of time. There are a few bicycles chained and parked outside the curb, as well a couple of potted plants in a neat row. I can just imagine one of the boys coming down to water the plants every morning and try not to snort.

“Disclaimer,” June announces before we get to the main door. “There might be nudity. Mostly BM. If you’re lucky it’s BM. Sometimes it’s Long Beach. Sometimes it’s Toronto. The others vary in frequency but still in considerable moderation. Maybe not Twinkletoes. So…don’t freak out or anything if that stuff freaks you out.”

“Even Sungjin?”

June pauses at the threshold, her shoulder connecting to the door but not pushing it open. “Oh,” she says, “Right. He lives here, too.”

I follow her into the first floor which is set up like a wide receiving area. There’s a common room straight down the center, and—if this is set up like the freshman dorms—I’m guessing the open kitchen toward the right. There’s an elevator covered in yellow tape that, if I’m hazarding another guess, hasn’t been functional for at least half a decade. June heads right to the dry-erase board built into the wall and the cork board stationed right next to it.

There’s a table for the team’s training and game schedules and individual schedules for whoever lives there. The chore chart is determined wheel-of-fortune style, with cut up photos of their faces pasted on magnets to move around. June updates the game dates and venues—adding the midterms schedules she copies off her phone. I’m about to commend how well she takes care of the boys when she pulls out a box from inside her bag and dumps the foil packets into a little plastic basket hanging down the corner of the board.

Yes. Those are condoms.

“What are you doing?”

June doesn’t even flinch or look at me. Because this is totally regular behavior, nothing to see here. “Advocating safe sex.”

Ah, yes. That makes sense.

“Did you get the glow-in-the-dark ones?”

Look, if I can control my blushing I really would totally not blush at a time like this because it’s embarrassing and it’s revealing. Younghyun appears from the kitchen, fully dressed thank you, with a can of soda in his hand. He greets me with a nod, and I return his nod with a nod of my own. Classy.

“No,” June says, “Just the fruity ones. ‘Cause you’re all so fruity.”

He answers with one of those nose-scrunchy annoying smiles of his and follows her up the stairs. I follow too because what else am I supposed to do. Someone should really write a book about post-kiss etiquette because there are people like me who need a protocol to follow in these trying times. True, I kissed him first. Maybe. I think. But Younghyun was just as into it as I was. Right?

Or was that one of those in the moment things?

Did he just go with it because it was happening already?

Because I kissed him.

And what the fuck did he mean by the glow-in-the-dark condoms?

Two flights of stairs later, we’re at the third floor corridor. Younghyun’s floor, apparently. June stretches her arms over her head and kicks open the first door to the left. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to follow her inside or what. Now I’m thinking I should have stayed downstairs instead.

“Where’s BM?” June asks, dropping her backpack on the bed. She’s looking around for something, lifting the pillows and looking through the clothes piled on the bed. “Have you seen my hockey jersey?”

It’s a simple room: a bed against one wall, a desk, a lamp, a closet and a set of drawers. The chair is stacked with clothes, pairs of shoes are lined behind the door, books everywhere. It’s Younghyun’s room.

Younghyun leans against the doorjamb. The dark blue pullover is doing things to his arms and his chest and his collarbones and it’s very distracting. “No. Were you wearing it the last time you were here? BM’s getting dressed. Jae and Wonpil are buying the cake.”

June’s eyes widen in horror. “You sent those two to get cake? Do you want Jae to come back here with an unnaturally large baguette like they did for Dowoon’s birthday?”

Younghyun shrugs, having no issue with this scenario at all. “It wasn’t a bad idea. It was enlightened.”

“Right.” June shakes her head and walks back out the door. “I’ll go get BM. If you find my jacket in your laundry let me know.”

I watch her go one down the corridor and knock on the last door, yelling Matthew better have at least one piece of clothing on because she’s coming right in. I think I hear Matthew answer something like, “Yeah, wearing my left sock. Come right in.”

Well, that’s a vision.

Unfortunately, one not compelling enough because now I’m pointedly not looking at Younghyun because…how?

“Don’t worry about the thing,” he says, reading my mind. Or maybe he whispers the words because anything above that is too loud. “It’s just what it is, right? No big deal?”

I nod because obviously I go around kissing guys for fun. Not that there’s anything wrong with that because, you know, all things consensual and responsible and hot is all cool in my book. I just don’t have much experience in the department. Experience Younghyun clearly has. I know this. I’ve always known this in the back of my head. I just never recalled the knowledge to the forefront of my consciousness because…

It’s stressful, is why.

“Yeah,” I say, finding my voice. At least he’s thinking about it too? In whatever capacity it may be. “I mean…it happens, right?”

But it doesn’t just happen for me. Younghyun knows that. He must know that.

“Yeah…We’re…friends, right?”

If there were a more appropriate time to slap him with my binder, it’s now. Right now. Right at this very moment that I don’t have it with me. Hockey gods, what punishment is this?

Friends?

But maybe it is better this way. This way I don’t have to deal with his mind-numbing kisses. The heat. The tingles. The desperation. My brain is all worked up as it is. Furthermore, I can’t ever get involved with a subject. That’s just unprofessional. It would colour my work with bias and…

And it’s Younghyun.

I know better than to want to want Kang Younghyun.

Sungjin comes out of his door—right across Younghyun’s—just as June and Matthew emerge from Matthew’s room. “I thought I heard the neighbourhood.”

“Alright,” Matthew says, throwing a massive around June’s lithe shoulders. “Let’s get this party started.”

And that’s how I end up walking between Younghyun and Sungjin all the way to the grill. Other than the conversation between them, there wasn’t much room for me to engage. Younghyun, though, insufferable as always kept trying to include me in whatever Sungjin was talking about. And Sungjin, bless his poor heart, he has no idea Younghyun is manipulating the entire scene to his advantage.

But what advantage is that exactly?

“How was your consultation, by the way?” I don’t know why I asked that. It really does seem like a terrible question in retrospect because it reminds me too much of The Incident, but it’s also the most recent anything I have with Sungjin.

He tilts his head, confused for a second. “What consultation?

“The one when we ran into each other at the Natural Science’s building?”

“Oh.” He shakes some sense into him. “It went well.”

“What was it about?” I can feel Younghyun staring at us. Lucky for him, I’m not the type to back down from a fight. “Maybe I can offer some insight?”

Hockey gods, possess me with the power to flirt.

Sungjin laughs. “To be honest, I don’t remember much of it. I don’t think I really understood what was happening in that conversation. It’s, ah, how do you say? Mental overload.”

I give a little giggle because it seems like the right thing to do in this situation. I’ve daydreamed about this since freshman year, and here I am and…and I don’t know how I feel anymore. But Sungjin is sincere in a way Younghyun is not, and I appreciate the casual frankness in his demeanor. I’m never questioning what’s really going on because I already know. That makes me smile for real.

Dinner, for the most part, is uneventful unless you count Jae and Wonpil trying to light up the candles for Matthew’s birthday cake using the actual grill after arguing about whether or not they should bring the cake out before midnight. Other than that, it’s hockey as usual with the boys and their monster appetites and the mess that masquerades as conversation for them. I can never keep up so I don’t even try.

Besides, I’m too busy thinking about what Younghyun said and the way he said it. I really thought we had a moment after the interview. And I don’t just mean the kiss. He opened up to me, but every time I feel like I’m getting closer to him that’s when he shuts another door in my face.

Thus, responsible alcohol consumption.

Jimin and Yerin eventually show up, but they’re currently preoccupied with Jae and Wonpil, and Matthew showing them how to wreck the dance floor. Matthew, I can say in all honesty, has been blessed by the hockey gods with gift of groove and I can watch him all night. I can even watch him teach Jae how to dance all night.

I’m stuck in the booth with Sungjin, and with June and Younghyun across us. We’re not really speaking together as a group. Or, anyway, Younghyun and June are having their own separate conversation. They’re having a discussion on, surprise, hockey. Sungjin is still making casual conversation with me, and it’s really nice of him because it keeps me distracted from Younghyun. Or Sungjin would have been if I haven’t been catching Younghyun’s glances across the table.

Interesting enough, I also catch June.

She’s onto us, I swear.

But I’m on to her, too.

And what Wonpil said the other day comes back to me: Younghyun looks out for June the way he does so it doesn’t appear that she’s really the one looking out for him.

At exactly midnight, the group gathers together to sing happy birthday to Matthew who stands there awkwardly waiting for us to finish. Then it’s hugs around the group, and if I squeeze a little tighter and enjoy my hug a little more it’s because I’m really happy to be here and Matthew is a really good friend. Papa Tuan, who is an actual person, apparently, gives us two more rounds on the house. Wonpil picks a song from the list, and now people are dancing. Even Sungjin. If one can even call it a dance. June, too, is standing in the middle of the dance floor with Matthew who’s teaching her some moves.

Sometimes I think he’s trying to get June to let her guard down.

“I know that look,” Wonpil says, sliding into my dance space. “But Sunshine doesn’t date within the team.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.” I was so totally thinking that.

Wonpil shrugs, incorporating the gesture into his dancing. Papa Tuan’s isn’t even of the dancing variety of establishment, but ah, well, too late for anything now. Besides, with half the team like this, the space is pretty much packed there’s nothing else left to do because now it’s standing room only.

“You don’t think they have chance?” As I ask that, I get the distinct feeling of being watched, and of course Younghyun is right there behind Wonpil. By watching me, I don’t mean to say he’s staring at me. More like he glanced this way and that’s more than enough for him to figure out what’s going on. Because he has preternatural sense like that.

Younghyun is a vampire.

I just know it.

“Someone’s going to be heartbroken, I think,” Wonpil says, “But that’s just a feeling. Oh, no. This song is terrible. I’ll be right back.”

And now I’m face to face with Younghyun.

Because the hockey gods have a beef with me, obviously.

“Having fun?” he asks, and I’m holding my breath for no reason at all.

“Are you?” Kiss me.

Younghyun steps right into my breathing space and I’m almost melting into a puddle because I can feel the heat of him and the cool scent of him, and Younghyun’s contrasts have me all out of sorts. “Yeah,” he smiles. It’s alarmingly sweet, I think he’s drunk. “Yeah, I am.”

Kiss me again.

Another hour, maybe two, Papa Tuan is shooing us out the door.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks for the third time. She’s got a half-asleep Yerin, and they’re both sober, but it’s late and they’re tired. “Because we can all go together?”

I look back at June trying to stabilise Matthew with one arm and Jae with the other, but she’s also toeing the line right beyond tipsy and has Younghyun supporting her from behind. Sungjin’s got Wonpil who’s a handful on his own. “I’ll be fine. You go ahead, I think Yerin’s asleep. They’re harmless.” I throw that last bit I there to calm Jimin’s nerves.

“I know they are,” she answers, knowingly. Maybe even a little offended. Maybe she’s on to me, too. “Message me when you’re all home, okay?”

“Yeah, you too.” I get them into a taxi and wave goodbye.

And then the real adventure begins. Sungjin, Younghyun, and I miraculously get all the guys and our girl back to the hockey house in one piece. We get them all the way up to the third floor, not without herculean effort, and when we finally get there, Sungjin has the presence of mind to suggest we just leave them on the floor.

But of course, he’s just joking and he methodically gets the boys into their rooms with an expert ease as though he’s done this before. June can walk, and she wrenches herself off me once she recognises the familiar setting. She ambles to the first door on the right, keys in the passcode, and tumbles right in.

No one says anything.

“It’s too late to go home,” Younghyun says, opening his door. “You can crash here for tonight.”

“He’s right,” Sungjin agrees. “Take the room. I’ll take the couch downstairs.”

“It’s freezing down there,” I say, not finding the will to argue my way home. Younghyun’s bed looks so inviting. Because I’m tired. Not because it’s Younghyun’s.

“I’ll grab a blanket, don’t worry.” Sungjin pauses at his door, visibly counts to three before keying in his code and walking inside. Careful to keep the door open, he grabs an extra blanket from his drawer.

From what I catch a glimpse of, his room is neat and tidy, and June is already curled up in a little ball on his bed.

Sungjin closes the door gently behind him and heads downstairs.

When I turn back to Younghyun, he’s still holding the door open waiting for me. “Come on,” I tell him. “I don’t want to steal your room. And I know there’s not enough room down there for the both of you.”

I can hear the words as I’m saying them, and I haven’t had that much to drink. Younghyun knows this, and still he asks:

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Not nearly enough,” I admit. “Come on. Nothing’s gonna happen. You and I both know it.”

But that’s a lie.

Something’s totally going to happen, I just don’t know what it is yet.

“Don’t argue this time,” I say, walking into his room and suddenly being enveloped by the intimacy of the surroundings. “You can take the floor.”

Younghyun calls out my name and I wonder if he’s ever done that before.

“I know,” I say before he even begins that thought. His dark eyes stare back at me as I say, “I trust you. You won’t let anything bad happen to me.”

Chapter Text

Bad is relative, and right now I regret ever saying those words out loud because it appears that Kang Younghyun is hellbent on ignoring me. Because he’s a gentleman. A fact that is both endearing and frustrating, but that’s what he is. Kang Younghyun is a paradox—the more I think about him, the more I try to discover who he is, the more I can’t think for the thoughts that lead to define him might not even exist yet.

So now we’re stuck in limbo.

All because of honourable intentions.

What’s worse is I know that in his mind he’s already playing out the scenario and it does not end well for me. Or for him. For us in the grand scheme of things. Nothing will happen because I said so, and he listens well. Too well. And damn me to the ditch where the hockey gods forsake those who sin against them if that doesn’t only make me melt inside. But because I just had to invoke the word trust—something that backfired on me—he’ll only end up on the floor with a terrible backache in the morning and I will end up angry and wishing I had a hangover instead.

Unfortunately for him, the more he insists on playing this game, the more I refuse to lose.

Younghyun quietly steps into his room and closes the door softly behind him; the click of the lock tumblers engaging is loud in the suffocating silence. I sink down on the edge of the bed, fold my hands over my lap, and stare at my shoes from where I left them by the door. After a beat of hesitation, Younghyun toes off his shoes and wanders across the small space. He stands in the middle of his own room like he doesn’t know what he’s doing there and what he’s supposed to do.

I feel hot and achy and it’s the alcohol, I assure myself. It has to be. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be brave enough to do what I just did. Or say what I’m about to say. “I wasn’t serious about the floor.”

So many reasonable reasons in this line of reasoning:

It’s cold.

It’s uncomfortable.

It will hurt his back.

It’s not next to me.

Yes, sir, it has to be the alcohol. There’s no other explanation for the sensations coursing through my body. The ache in my chest, the tight clenching in my legs, and the strange emptiness in my core.

Shaking his head, Younghyun flicks off the main light, leaving us in a faint orange glow of his lamp on the table. Then he takes to the floor, leaning back against the side of the bed, stretching his legs forward, and letting his head hang back on the mattress. Once again, I’m given a full view of his throat and his jawline. His eyes flutter close, lashes kissing his cheek. His mouth falls agape, just the slightest bit. His nose is slightly crooked, and now I know it’s because it’s been broken once or twice before. And the sexy curve of his lips is…pure temptation. I want to kiss him so badly I can’t think straight.

“You’re in the wrong room with the wrong guy,” he mutters.

“Am I?” Because nothing about this feels wrong.

He swallows and I follow the bob of his Adam’s apple. I’m so nervous, I can’t even think. But at the same time, something Younghyun says puts me at ease. He’s so laidback, and besides, it’s hard to feel intimidated by a guy when he’s exhibiting the animal kingdom’s universal sign of showing vulnerability. 

“Because I don’t think you’re really stealing anyone’s opportunities here.” There, I said it.

He cracks one eye open to look at me with a hot lingering perusal that crackles electricity all over my body. Are we going to kiss now? Is this it? Is this the part where we mutually agree that kissing is next on the agenda? Of course, not. Younghyun just closes his eye again and takes a deep breath.

Every muscle in my body is tense and I stretch out on my side and down on the bed.  Probably a bad idea. Probably going to end up suffering more because of this. Because here we are, here I am, and nothing. And as much as I know, rationally speaking, that this is a good thing,  it is also decidedly not what I want. But it’s not just about me. Curling my arms around a pillow, and trying—and failing—not to inhale the scent of him surrounding me, I find a comfortable position facing him. Younghyun tilts his head slightly toward me, but says nothing.

Looking at him like this, I get it now why some people decide to share their bed and wake up next to the same person night after night.

“You’re acting weird,” I say. “Don’t be weird.”

“You’re in my bed,” he admits. “It’s a little weird.”

“I doubt I’m the first girl to sleep on your bed. I have no such delusions.”

He chuckles low and dark and it heats the air between us. “Does Sunshine count?”

I give it a moment’s thought. In my imagination, June gags at the insinuation of any funny business. I do, too. For the same reasons. “No.”

He laughs again, just under his breath. “Then, congratulations.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you don’t fool around with other girls?” Or guys? Doesn’t matter. The real issue here is the fooling around. Honestly the thought is making me dizzy. Just the thought of his lips and his hands is making fuzzy-headed with want.

“I never said that. I just said I never brought them up here.”

“Ah, the sanctity of your bedroom.” I tease because I refuse to believe I’ve just been given yet another privilege by the hockey gods. This, whatever this is, whatever this will be, can’t get to my head. I can’t make it more than what I’m given. “To keep a piece of yourself to yourself, and to prove that your heart is a fortress fully armed and guarded with no easy way inside.”

He scrunches his nose at me. “The walls are thin and you can hear people having sex on the other side. Had a blast studying while the guy who used to live in the next room brought his dates home.”

I snort into his pillow. “Did they get any glow-in-the-dark action?”

The tips of his ears burn pink. “Did you know noise-cancelling headphones have now been invented?”

My eyes travel down the side of his neck, and it makes me think of all the bruises he’d had to suffer through. “Why do you do it?” The question tumbles out of me. I ask because he’s right here, and we are alone—and just because I can. “Why do you play so hard when you get beat up in the process?”

His answer is matter-of-fact. “Hockey is a full-contact sport.”

“I know that, but…I’ve seen other games. I’ve seen Wonpil and even Jae. There are less violent ways to play.”

“Ah,” he breathes, letting his head fall back down on the bed. “I know what this is. This is you trying to save me from myself. You won’t be the first to try. Sorry if that means something to you.”

I roll my eyes. I take it it’s a popular enough motivation for anyone who has dared to walk into his life. The broken, bad boy saved by…by what exactly? Younghyun doesn’t even fit into that image. Besides, this isn’t what he thinks this is. It’s just another layer to the mystery. I’m doing this for the film project. Not to save him from himself. “So you admit it then? There is some…motivation behind it.”

A wry smile lifts his lips. “You want to know my secret pain?”

“Secret pain?”

“Oh, yeah. My inner demons. The dark current of torment eroding at the stone cold foundations of my soul. That’s what you’re asking for. You think that if you can corner me like this, alone with you, inebriated, and confused, and unsure, you can come throw me off guard and expose my soft bits. Then you’ll wrap me in a warm, fluffy blanket and cuddle me with pillows, and then I’ll learn to love myself and stop submitting my body to such horrific abuse.”

I bite my lip, grateful that in this light and this angle, he can’t see me blush. I flick the back of his head. Why, oh, why, have the hockey gods decided to unload the King of All Drama Queens on me. “Don’t be such a drama queen. God, you’re such a drama queen.”

He chuckles. “It’s not my fault I’ve heard that from pretty much every other girl I’ve dated. You’re not the first to try it, and you won’t be the last. Not that we’re dating.”

“Maybe I’m asking from an investigative standpoint.”

“Maybe.” He twists around, so that he's facing me, lays his elbow on the end and rests his chin on his arm. “Do you want to know my deep, dark secret? If I were to tell you everything, open up my soul to you, if you could really see right through me, do you think you can still look at me the same?”

“I know what you’re doing and I really wish you can just…stop.” I sigh that last word because here is yet again, deflecting all my attempts at getting to know him. “You know what, I’ll bit. Tell me.”

“Here it is.”

I hold my breath as he leans close to whisper in my ear. The back of my neck and the backs of my ears prickle. Despite knowing where this goes, his deep voice resonates in my bones

“I play hard,” he says, “because I’m good at it. And because it makes me feel alive.” He turns away. “That’s the truth.”

I am not convinced.

Oh, I don’t doubt that he speaks some semblance of truth there, but I suspect it’s not all of his truth. There’s always something more, something he’s not willing to admit to me just yet. Not to me, because I’m me. But also perhaps it’s something he’s not willing to admit even to himself.

I reach out to touch his shoulder, and when he turns to face me, his cheeks drives straight into my waiting finger. “Got you.”

He laughs in a low rumble. “Guess you did.”

I lightly stroke his cheekbone and he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. Younghyun rests his head against the bed again, and I run my fingers through his hair, caressing him gently until his breathing slows and falls in a steady rhythm.

I fall asleep with his face nestled in my hand.

When I wake up, I am Younghyun’s arms.

I’d panic, but this is exactly where I want to be. Even in the light of day, I still want to be here. The morning sun filters through his window, and it occurs to me the rest of the team will be waking up soon. Walking out the door is not something I know how to deal with right now, so an orderly exit is favourable.

But…

Younghyun’s arms are around me, holding my back flush against his chest. Every time his breathes, his cheek grazes my face and goose bumps erupt on my skin. And every time his breath puffs on my jaw, a flurry of shivers skitters through me. The heat of his body sears into me, his scent surrounds me, and I’m excruciatingly aware of his warm hand clutching mine.

It feels so much more intimate than anything else I could have known to ask for.

I don’t want him to wake up to find me gone because that will only lead to awkward and weird conclusions, especially after that Friend stunt he tried to pull yesterday. I can’t believe that was only yesterday. “Younghyun?”

He doesn’t even stir.

Somehow, and with major reluctance, I manage to untangle myself from his limbs. I stroke his hair, feeling silly and giddy at the same time. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.”

I send a quick message to his phone, fix myself, and stealth out of his door. My throat is parched so I make a detour to the kitchen first before I leave. It’s still early, barely eight in the morning, and I doubt anyone else is awake.

Naturally, I’m proven wrong.

What is it about kitchens?

Or is it just a June and Sungjin thing? I should just turn around and walk away, but being invisible and the wizard behind the camera for about all my life is both a curse and a gift. The corner puts me at a blind spot, and I promise myself—and the hockey gods—I’ll only take a minute.

Sungjin pours two mugs of coffee. “I should change the key code to my door.”

June laughs, palming the mug in her sweater paws. “I’m sorry. Did you sleep okay?”

“I’m fine.” They’re both leaning against the kitchen counter, only halfway into staying. Perhaps always halfway ready to make a run for it.

“Liar.”

Sungjin clutches his back dramatically and groans like a grandpa. “Well…now that you mention it…”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because of all the dancing you did. You, sir, are wild.”

“Yet you’re the one who’s bad for me.”

June doesn’t answer, takes another sip of her coffee.

Sungjin’s expression turns serious. “Younghyun—”

“Yeah.”

That’s my cue to leave, and with all the thoughts swirling in my head, I’m surprised I make it home without much incident. I plop into bed and press the heels of my hands into my eyes.

This is what I get for freaking out on a not walk of shame.

Chapter Text

The following week puts the hell in Hell Week.

Younghyun and I don’t have time to have The Conversation, what with training and exams and other academic requirements, but I’m glad he’s not acting like nothing happened That Night. We study together at the library—most nights I catch him taking naps there and, when it gets too late or when we give up for the night, he walks me home. We both know there’s a conversation to be had, I can see it in the way he looks at me sometimes like he has something to say but can’t find the words because we both know, that for the both of us, these words are difficult things to say. We talk about everything else, but there’s only so much deflecting we can do until we fall apart with the weight of our own defenses.

I give him his space as he gives me mine, but now I have to ask: until when?

 “I’ll see you tomorrow at the game?” Younghyun asks, walking me up to my building’s main lobby door.

“Where else would I be? I need to film the team,” I answer, cheekily. “As much of you as I can. This video is going to be my best this year. Probably the best of my whole academic career.”

That’s a lie. I have no idea how to frame this story, and I’m drowning in the number of material I have I don’t know how to even begin editing, and I haven’t drafted a script even though I told Professor Han I’m halfway through. I’m on the verge of a breakdown, but I can’t fall apart like this. I don’t get the privilege of complaining about how life is hard.

Younghyun falls into me, capturing me into his embrace. He holds me tight against him and buries his face in my neck. Every night it’s like this, at the end of the day when it’s time to say goodnight, Younghyun holds on like he’s afraid I’ll vanish before his very eyes.

“You need to get home because you need to rest up for tomorrow.”

It’s the last day of midterms today and he’s been beaten physically, and mentally, and emotionally and yet he always come out whole and better than before. I don’t know how he does it. “I’m still mad you made me wake up without you. This is payment for that.”

“Are you still not over that?” When I woke up after my morning nap, it was to a barrage of messages from Younghyun complaining about how I left him. Again. For the second time. Like it’s my fault he stresses me out. He’s been bugging me about it ever since, holding it against me at every opportunity he gets. He’s such a child. 

“Never.”

What are we? I want to ask.

What are we, Younghyun?

Because I don’t want to just be your friend.

The words are so easy, but I can’t find the voice to speak them into existence.

***

The team lost again today.

I can’t breathe as I watch them filter through the tunnel, shoulders slumped and faces devoid of laughs and smiles. They look nothing like the team I know and am falling in love with. It’s not the end yet, there’s always a chance for a comeback, but this loss does them a number because it brings them further away from their goals. This being a home game only makes it worse. The bleachers were draped in our school colours, and the cheers for us were the loudest. The disappointment could be felt all throughout the entire rink.

My camera hand shakes as I record the team, and a part of me wants to stop and look away but there’s always that part of me that can’t turn away from a wreck when I see one. A dastardly part of my mind thinks this is good material, I could definitely use this footage, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I know exactly how to capitalise on this loss for my own gain.

I search Younghyun out in the collective entity of the team, but he’s nowhere to be seen. My heart sinks into the ground. He had the puck before the other guy checked him and Younghyun lost possession when he was thrown airborne and down into the ice.

He blames himself for this loss, I’m sure.

Even if it’s not his fault.

“He’s out back.” June tilts her head toward the direction of the loading bay at the back of the facility. She has her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself. “Just…” she struggles to find the words. “Just…just remember if he says anything or does anything, don’t take it to mean that those actions define who he is. He’s…”

“I get it,” I tell her, holding back from touching her arm understanding it might not be a welcome gesture. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s better if you go to him instead?”

She shakes her head and smiles sadly. “I’m not what he needs right now.”

I cut a glance toward the rest of the team. June might think she is not who Younghyun needs, but there is someone else who does. Someone June also needs right now. “Thank you.”

“He’s my best friend.”

The words carry more weight than I can ever bear, especially coming from June. From the person who’s looked out for Younghyun for the past three years, the words mean more than just words. But she doesn’t need to say anything else, and there’s nothing I can ever say or do to alleviate her fears and her worries. Something is changing between us, a shift in the atmosphere I’m not sure I’m prepared for. But I’ve always been the type to be the best at things, and Younghyun can be something that I can be good at. I will be the best at Younghyun, too. If he lets me.

The walk to the loading bay gives me room to breathe and collect my thoughts. Fear bothers me the most—what if I’m not what he needs? My footsteps echo as I navigate through the dimly lit corridors leading through to the garage behind the rink. It feels as though I’ve been walking for days before I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Younghyun is crumpled on the concrete, back against the garage wall, his head between his knees, and his arms over his head. His helmet, his gloves, and his jersey are discarded to his side and he’s left in his pads and is barefoot. Something inside me breaks seeing him like this.

“Younghyun?”

He doesn’t answer.

Words are never there when I need them and mere words will never be enough so I sit next to him. It’s all I can do. He must know I’m here for him. I won’t leave him until he tells me to. The first strangled cry from his throat tears down all my defences and I wrap my arms around him. Younghyun’s breaths are ragged and heavy and the more he tries not to wail, the more it hurts us both. I steady him in my arms and let him cry as much as he needs to. All I can offer are gentle strokes to his hair and warm sweeps of my hands down his arms and his back.

“Don’t let them see that,” he sobs. “Don’t let them see I’m not doing well. I promised them I’ll do well. They can’t see me thrown into the ice like that and not pick myself up and win the game.”

“Who?” I ask, holding him tighter against me. “Younghyun, who?”

“My parents. The video. I don’t want anyone to see that video and see me fall over and over again and fail. I don’t want anyone to see that.”

“They won’t see that,” I comfort, “That’s now what they’ll see. Your parents will see their son and they’ll be so proud of you. You did so well today. You did so well this week. This year. It’s okay you can rest now.”

He shakes in my arms and I can’t help my own tears. He wants the video for his parents. In Canada. To see that he’s doing well so far away. Kang Younghyun acts like he’s got everything under control but deep inside he’s still a boy.

“I fought with them to let me come here alone. They didn’t want me to leave. But I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there and live the way I was living.”

“Shhh...it’s okay.”

He doesn’t have to explain anything to me anymore. He doesn’t have to speak if he doesn’t want to. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, as long as I am able, he will have it.

“I wanted to quit so many times. I wanted to come home so many times. But I couldn’t. Not after I told them I’ll show them I’ll do well without them. I just wanted to prove I can make it on my own. That I can win without them.”

“And you have,” I murmur, “Younghyun, you’re amazing. So brave and so strong.”

“I feel like I’m running out of time.”

“You’re not. There’s time.”

“I was so alone.”

And everything falls into place. His devotion to June, his looking out for the new kids, his utter adoration for the hockey team. He must have felt so isolated. Younghyun just wants to prove he’s the best. He’ll put his body on the line to prove he’s doing well.

“You’re not alone anymore. We’re all here for you. I’m here for you. I won’t leave you alone.”

I hold on to him until he calms down. It’s dark out when he’s exhausted his tears and I’m worried he’s fallen asleep when he doesn’t stir when I call out his name. 

“Younghyun?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s getting late. Are you ready to go back now?”

He nods. “There’s a rooftop thing. We always do it after midterms.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head, wiping away the tears in his eyes. “No. I want to go.” Because they’re more than this friends. The hockey team is his family. “Come with me?”

With him, I just might go anywhere. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

Younghyun straightens up and wipes away the rest of the tears off his face. I reach forward and push his hair away from his eyes, and he leans into the touch.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” he mutters into my wrist, pressing his lips against my hand.

“Whenever you need me, please trust in me. I’m here for you, Younghyun.”

I think I’m falling in love with you.

Chapter Text

It’s a small, intimate gathering of friends on the rooftop when Younghyun and I get there. I was expecting more people, more of the hockey team, but it’s just June, Sungjin, Matthew, and Jae. They’re seated in a circle around a small heater on the floor with cans of beer and bottles of soju between them. June looks up as soon as she sees Younghyun, and he ambles forward, crouching next to her and letting June catch him to give him a big, tight hug. My heart clenches and swells and aches for them, too.

June peeks over Younghyun’s shoulder to catch my eyes. “Thank you,” she mouths at me. “For bringing him back.”

I thought I was done tearing up, but I guess not because another tear escapes my eye and I swipe away at it before anyone notices. Younghyun stays next to June, who is next to Jae, who is next to Matthew, who is next to Sungjin. Because it’s the only space left, I drop down between Younghyun and Sungjin. To this day, I’m not sure where I stand in this group but I’ll take what crumbs I can get.

“Welcome to the Midnight Society,” Jae announces, handing me shot glass. “Rules are rules. Shots as soon as you join the formation.”

I wait for Matthew to contest the rules or say it’s not a real rule, but he just hands Jae a bottle to pour for me. Younghyun picks up a glass, and he and I both take a shot. As I feel the burn down my throat a huge weight lifts off my shoulders seeing them laugh and talk among themselves. They’re okay. This team isn’t going to break just because they lost one game. They’ll pick themselves up and fight until the very end.

Because that’s just what you do in this life.

Sungjin pours Matthew a shot and nods at him.

Something is communicated in that small gesture, and my instincts are telling me I am about to witness something either amazing or ridiculous or both at the same time. I’m holding my breath even if I don’t know why.

“It’s been a tough week,” Matthew knocks back his shot, then mutters into his empty glass. “I am going to fucking lose my shit when my midterms come back and I don’t make the requirement. I don’t want to get benched. We have to win this year, and I can’t do that from the bench.” He pours Jae a shot. “You guys okay?”

Jae shakes his head. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m feeling right now. Sucks that we lost this game. Sucks that it was scheduled right at the end of midterms. I hate that we lost in front of all our schoolmates. I hate it. Life is hard.” He passes the shot to June who knocks it right down her throat.

She then leans forward, rests her cheek on her knees and breathes out a loud, shaky breath. “Still breathing. Not good, but still breathing. I feel like…like I don’t know what’s happening anymore. It doesn’t make sense. I’m just so tired? I’m exhausted.”

Younghyun pats the top of her head and his thumb rubs the back of her ear. “I’m sorry I let you guys down. We lost today because of me—”

A chorus of aggressive “No”s rain down on him. Startled, Younghyun jerks back and barks out a laugh. “What are the rules to this thing! I invoke the rules!”

“It’s not your fault,” Sungjin says, shutting everyone up. “That’s that. But everyone else be quiet.”

Younghyun pours himself a shot and takes it. “What’s worse is even though we lost, Coach Taec said that recruiter is still interested. Says he wants a meeting with me. Coach Yubin says I should take the meeting. That I should take all the meetings.”

There’s a silence that sucks the air out of the circle. The lamplight flickers and buzzes back to life. Younghyun mentioned before that he didn’t want to be the one to steal someone else’s opportunities before he was sure of his own. He’s never mentioned it again, and I didn’t feel ready enough to ask him because it sounded like I mean to follow him even after this semester is over. Halfway through, and I still don’t know for sure what happens when I’m through filming and no longer have a legitimate excuse to hang around the team as much anymore.

Younghyun pours me a shot, and I just stare blankly at him.

“Your turn,” Sungjin says.

“My turn to what?”

“Articulate your grievances,” Jae mumbles. He fans out his arms and draws a circle around us. “This is a safe, non-judgemental space. What you say in the circle, stays in the circle. We’re not actually allowed to say anything in response. You just say whatever. Liquid courage, at your disposal.”

I stare down the depths of my shot glass. Whatever problems I have, Jimin and Yerin are always the first to know and are always there for me. The three of us have always been there for each other no matter what even though there are things I keep to myself such as my growing feelings for Younghyun. Not a topic I can open up in this circle either. And to be honest, I don’t know if I’ve done enough to deserve their confidence like this. I thumb the rim of the shot glass, wary of taking it, afraid it will make me forget to be strong. “You guys are giving me a headache figuring out good angles for my video.”

The deflection doesn’t work on Younghyun and he scoffs to himself, covering it up with a little laugh. In his eyes, I see him ask the question: who are you really protecting here?

I don’t think I’m fooling Sungjin either because he just laughs and points at my glass. “Are you taking that?”

“Do I have to?”

“No,” he says with a gentle smile. “You pass it to the next person if you don’t want it.”

I hand it over.

Sungjin doesn’t even flinch and downs the shot like water. Damn. “This week’s been hard. Today especially. But we’ve been playing together since we were froshbites and we’re going to play together until we graduate. It’s always an honour playing with you, guys. Next game, let’s just play like we always do.”

For the two months I’ve known Park Sungjin, this is the most emotional I’ve ever heard him speak and it’s not even that mushy. I take it that this does not occur often because June is in total shock, Jae is blinking as if he just imagined the entire string of words, and Matthew has his drink half-way paused to his mouth. Younghyun, though, has gone into his mind, glancing away from the moment.

“That’s not fair,” Jae says, twiddling his thumbs. “You’re supposed to air out grievances not take responsibility for ours.”

“You know you can count on us, too,” Younghyun adds, though there’s a strain in his voice that I can’t be the only one who has noticed. “You’re our friend first before you’re our team captain.”

“I know, I know,” Sungjin chuckles. “But what can we do, right? We can only keep moving forward.”

“Fuck this.” June hands out more shots and by the third round, no one’s thinking about how shitty the week has been.

June and Jae are fun drunks because they switch personalities. Jae is pensive and philosophical while June is giggly and bright. They’ve been playing a round or rock paper scissors while discussing the finer points of one’s visceral need and capacity to create vessels for the peak moments of their lives. Honestly, they lost me at the part where they started referring to nostalgia and saudade as fuzzy wuzzies in the feels.

“You know,” Jae says, turning to me. He’s gotten rid of his glasses somewhere along the way. “If we kick out Cap and PD-nim, it’ll be just like the old days.”

PD-nim? Is that my nickname now? “The old days?”

“They were in the same Language and Culture class all international students are required to take before classes officially begin,” Sungjin explains. He and I are probably the only ones who’ve stayed near the heater. Mathew is lying down on his back pitching in his ideas to Jae and June’s discussion. June has rested her head against Matthew’s stomach, half-curled into him, seeking warmth. Younghyun is just being himself, answering questions when he’s asked but his mind is somewhere else. “That’s how they met,” Sungjin continues. “The hockey was a happy coincidence after.”

So these four have known each other even before their freshmen year even started? That’s a lot of history to go through, and I don’t just mean the years. If this were a movie, there’s a full montage of memories that I didn’t get to see when the film started.

“Not exactly like old times,” Matthew mumbles. “Remember She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Toronto’s ex,” Sungjin fills in. “They don’t like talking about it.”

“Damn right, we don’t!” June’s outburst catches me off guard, but Younghyun just laughs it off. “She left. People who leave need to be completely wiped out of our memories. She broke Brian’s heart into pieces and I will never forgive her!”

“Yeah, man!” Jae reaches over June to clap Younghyun on the shoulder. “I can’t believe she dumped you! She made you fall in love with her then she dumped you! Where is the love?”

No one’s ever mentioned any of their past—or present—relationships before but that doesn’t mean they didn’t—don’t—exist. Maybe I just filtered it out, not completely on board with Younghyun’s dating record because even though they’re all over, I still feel a little bit jealous. Even if it’s irrational.

Now that we’re on the subject, I don’t think I’ve ever really actually had a boyfriend. I’ve gone on a couple of dates, but most of them fizzled out after a few weeks. The longest I’ve seen a guy was for about a semester and the kisses were probably the only good thing about that guy. Then he broke up with me because, in his words, I was too much. Too determined to be the best. To determined to prove everyone wrong. Too angry. 

And now with Younghyun? Even though I still don’t know what we are, I’m suddenly inundated by these same doubts.

“Don’t worry,” Sungjin whispers, “they’re really not going to kick us out.”

“I feel like the whole going around the circle was a test and I just failed it.”

He laughs. “Is it because that you always come off like you’re on the defence all the time?”

“I get that a lot.” Like I’m always angry at some thing or another. And maybe I am. Maybe I’m upset that I can’t be upset about certain things. Or that I always feel like I have to fight someone just to justify my presence somewhere.

“I don’t know what you’re going through,” Sungjin says, “and I respect what you’re trying to become but these guys…” He looks at his team with a fondness that’s both unexpected but comforting. “If you let them, they’ll take you in, too. They just don’t know yet where the lines are? You just sort of came in with a video camera. It was a lot easier for June because the four of them found each other before hockey. And now she’s taking care of us in her own way. But they like you, just in case you’re wondering why you’re always invited to breakfast and now this.”

In another timeline maybe my terrible school girl crush on Sungjin would bloom into full love, but right now I know for sure my feelings for him have always been on a level that I would never act upon. In my eyes, he’s always been unattainable and therefore safe to crush on. I can admire him from afar with the risk of getting to know the real person behind the smiles, of knowing I won’t ever have to handle his heart.

Because my hands do not know how to handle a heart lightly.

If I fall in love, I fall in love.

“Yes!” Jae pumps his fist into the air and breaks out into a victory dance. Then he goes back to tapping away at his phone. “I got a date. Sunshine, you wanna go out with Sammy Tuesday night?”

Younghyun scowls at Jae. “Why are you setting her up with Sammy?”

Jae shrugs. “Hyerim said she wanted it to be a group date but none of her friends are free that night. Hence, Sunshine.”

“Why Sammy?” Younghyun whines.

Jae shrugs at him. “They look cute together.”

“You’re going out with Hyerim?” Matthew pulls himself up to sit and June rolls down to the floor. “Woo Hyerim from International Studies? You’re talking about that Hyerim?”

“The one and only,” Jae brags. “She said she was at the game today and she still wants to go out with me. I am not a total loser in her eyes! Go me!”

“Why don’t you just take Matthew?” Younghyun insists.

Jae sits back down. “Dude, no. Gotta take Sunshine so Hyerim’s a lot more comfortable, you know? Also, my man, this is my first date. First date. It’s needs tinkering and fine-tuning and I don’t need our King Big Matthew coming in there and stealing my thunder.”

“Bro.” Matthew clutches his chest. “I would never.”

Jae extends his arm for a fistbump. “Bro.”

“I’ll go,” June says, surprising everyone. Herself most of all, I think. “Thanks for asking, by the way.” She rolls her eyes. “Executive decision made.”

I glance at Sungjin, but he just looks confused. His jaw twitches but ultimately he says nothing.

Now I’m the one confused.

At around three in the morning, we all call it a night. The boys drunkenly stumble into their own rooms with help from Sungjin and Younghyun. This time, Jae and Matthew are put in the former’s room so June can stay in the latter’s room. Sungjin doesn’t argue with Younghuyn about it, and I’m surprised they managed to keep their conversation through loaded eye contact alone. Sungjin disappears into his room right after.

Now I’m left alone with Younghyun again.

He opens his door, holds it wide. “Are you drunk right now?”

“No,” I breathe. “Are you?”

“No.”

That’s all it takes and we’re both inside his room. Younghyun has my face in his hands and his mouth brushes mine, and holy hockey gods, I’m kissing Kang Younghyun again. His mouth is warm, his lips firm as he kisses me. Gently at first. A soft, sensual tease that makes me sigh. He licks my bottom lip, nips lightly at it before the tip of his tongue touches the seam of my lips. His mouth is hot and that makes me sigh even more. He lets out a raspy groan that vibrates through me and settles in my core.

“Been wanting to kiss you all night.”

“You’re kissing me now.”

He gathers me closer as he deepens our kiss. His mouth is both soft and demanding at the same time. I sort of melt into him, rendered helpless into a puddle of goo and all I can do is lean into him and his mouth. His kisses feel like everything I ever wanted. He tastes like crisp autumn and soda and Saturday nights. I can’t help but be greedy for more.

More, yes.

But what does more mean?

Younghyun senses my hesitation and pulls back with a frown. “What is it?”

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Kissing.”

I shove him a little bit on the chest. “I know that, and I like it, but…”

He presses his forehead against mine.

My heart is pounding in my chest. All of me in on fire at this moment. I don’t think I can survive this sensory overload. “You’re not staying here tonight, are you?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I don’t want to…Not that I don’t want you. I just…”

“It’s okay.” But it’s not, but also I know this is the right thing to do. Things are moving so fast all of a sudden I can’t keep up with my own train of thought.

Younghyun kisses me again, sweeter this time.

“We’ll talk?” Because I have to bring it up before I’m too crestfallen to even try.

“Later,” he murmurs into the kiss.

His hips press forward pinning me against the door, and I hold on to him to make sure he doesn’t any weird ideas about me not being as into this as he is. I’m not going anywhere for now. He makes a needy sound in the back of his throat, and I feel it everywhere. I pull him closer as if there’s any other way we could get any closer without losing all our clothes.

Then his lips disappear from mine and I’m about to complain when I see his eyes. When he looks at me, he’s unfocused and his smile is blurry and he’s breathing hard. “Gotta go.”

I kiss him one last time, a kiss that wishes the night isn’t over. “Good idea.”

“Thanks for being here tonight. For being at the game.”

I nod. “It’s my honour, really. Good night?”

One last kiss and he’s out the door.

Chapter Text

I don’t get to see the hockey team until Tuesday when I arrive too early in the morning to take backup shots of their training. Sunday was spent sleeping in and eating and being grilled by Yerin, and Monday was spent in class, in editing labs, and in Han Gain’s office for another round of consultations. My only reprieve was June sending me photos of Younghyun, Jae, and Matthew all curled up together sleeping on the floor.

However, Jimin’s last message from last night still echoes in my head: Aren’t you taking way too much time filming the team? You have more than enough footage to last you a feature-length film.

Duly, I replied: FYI not enough for a feature-length film.

Jimin’s unspoken warning does not go over my head. She knows me too well, and her warning is the reminder I needed to check myself before obsessing over this team and this project. That’s the problem with me, isn’t it? I can’t go into anything lightly. It’s always all or nothing, and that’s what gets me in trouble in the end.

It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to want someone this much. Somehow, even if we haven’t known each other that long, and he has his own secrets and locked doors, I trust Younghyun. This thing with him, if I want to make it work, I have to take it as he allows me to and not push him before he’s ready. Before I push him away for being too much. I have to take it slow. I can’t chase him and expect him to not act like the hunted.

My footsteps take me to the trophy room, it’s dark and the shadows make it look extra dramatic, perfect for solitary, emotional moments and I hold back a snort.

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

I follow the soft echo of Sungjin’s voice into the locker room. Stealthily, of course. I don’t need to be walking in on something I shouldn’t be walking into if that’s the case. And given my track record for these things, I’m pretty sure I should turn and walk the other direction but if there’s one other thing in this life that I can consider my fatal flaw, it’s that I can’t say no to a story.

I really should have gone the investigative route, but ugh. Blood and guts. Not my thing.

“Lift your shirt.” June, of course.

I’m sure this isn’t the only reason why Sungjin is always the first one to arrive, but being early does have perks. I think back to all the other instances I’ve seen the two of them as the first to arrive and wonder if it means anything. If there’s more to what they’re showing the general public about them. The little bits and pieces I’ve noticed throughout the weeks are beginning to make sense. They think they’re being subtle, but not subtle enough.

“What?” I hear Sungjin say, sounding scandalised at the notion. I can imagine him crossing his arms over his chest and pulling a face.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” came June’s frustrated reply. “You took that hit from that massive guy from the other team last game and BM had you kissing the glass a little too hard yesterday. Let me take a look at that.”

“You don’t have to be jealous of the glass.”

“Take your shirt off, Captain.”

“Please don’t call me that.” There’s a giggle in Sungjin’s voice that’s both unnerving and endearing.

I hear a rustle of clothes and then Sungjin hissing in pain.

“If you give me shit about soft hands—”

I slap my hands over my mouth at the very distinct, very unmistakeable sound of kissing going on to making out territory and I’m mentally doing cartwheels and somersaults. But also: wait, what?

“Are you really going on that date tonight?” Sungjin asks.

“Yes, I am.” Then more kissing. Hockey gods, Almighty. Is this a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare?

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Where exactly are you going to punch me if I ask you not to go out with this guy?”

“Nose. Throat. Solar plexus. Take your pick.”

“I’ll take all three.”

“You’re funny.”

“What are we?” Coming from Sungjin, the question is heartbreaking in several degrees. First, because it’s Sungjin and this is the last situation I ever thought I’d find him in. Second, because it’s Sungjin and he doesn’t deserve this, whatever this is. Third, it’s just not fair.

Or maybe because I see myself in that situation and can’t help but empathise.

“I found your jersey, by the way,” he says when June doesn’t answer.

“You did?” Her voice sounds distant now, not just physically but also emotionally. “Where did you find it?”

“My laundry.”

“Oh. I’ll come by the hockey house tomorrow.”

“Why not tonight?”

“Because I have a date tonight.”

I hear Sungjin scoff and the sound of a gym bag zipping up.

Time to go.

***

After Philo class—dull, as usual—Younghyun and I walk back to the quad to meet up with the others. I can tell now is not a good time to bring up having our Conversation, and the more this goes on the more I suspect delaying tactics are in play. But unless I tell him what I want, I can’t expect that he’ll give it to me. And unless he tells me what he needs, I can’t do anything for him.

What do you need, Younghyun?

With all the thoughts in my head, I settle on the next best/worst thing. “You’re not seriously against June dating whoever and whenever she wants, are you?”

“It’s not that,” he sighs, running his fingers frustratedly through his hair.

Feeling a semblance of control is often one’s way to keep from feeling abandoned—something my high school counsellor said to me when I was made to go see her once a month during my parents’ divorce and all the way until after they completely separated. I was told that I might try to control everything in my life just to never feel at a loss. Just to never feel like I’m the one being left behind. And Younghyun, he holds on to so little, he holds on to them with all his might.

“Then what is it?” I ask. I wonder if he knows about June and Sungjin. If he has the slightest idea about what’s going on and for how long this has been happening. As close as they are, he must have some inkling. All the team knows is that June and Sungjin are awkward around each other, but all this time it might have been a clever ploy for no one to suspect them. If I look back at all the footage I have of them, I wonder if I’ll find anything.

One comes to mind, immediately.

As team captain, how do you feel about your team manager?

As team manager, June […] definitely helps make life easier for the team captain.

Holy hockey gods.

Captain Sungjin, what a startling revelation. And here I was thinking June looked good with Matthew. All this time I was looking at the wrong guy.

Oh, well.

More Matthew to go around to the adoring public, then.

“You know she’s not going to stop being your friend if she does start dating someone. That’s not how the whole best friends thing works.”

Younghyun raises a brow at me. “I know that.”

“Then why are you acting so upset?”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his hockey jacket. “I’m not upset,” he says, upsetly.

“I’m not upset,” I mock.

A grin spreads across his face slowly taking over the look of shock. “Did you just…”

“Yes. You’re not a child. You can tell me what’s wrong. I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need to. I’m here for you.”

He looks up as we’re nearing the quad, waves at June, Jae and Matthew waiting for us by the stone tables. He shrugs, defeatedly. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“She’s not going anywhere. Is she?” A beat passes. “Are you going somewhere?”

He answers with a shake of his head, but it’s not an answer. Not really. Once again, it has to wait because there are other matters at hand. Like Matthew giving Jae tips to making his first date memorable and assuring him the chances of a second date.

“You’re taking her to the rink?” Matthew asks, reviewing Jae’s itinerary on the latter’s phone. This is their pre-game strategy meeting before the main event. Habits, they die hard.

“She wanted to! I asked her, I was like: So do you maybe wanna go somewhere? Like a movie or something? You decide. Whatever you wanna do. And then she was: They converted the outdoor plaza into an ice rink now, let’s go there and then get dinner after. And who am I to say no to that?”

“No, this is a good thing,” Matthew assures him. “You get to act cool and show off your skating. Does she know how to skate?”

Jae tilts his head in thought. “I don’t know. Guess I’ll find out?”

“Because if she doesn’t.” Matthew waggles his brows. “You get to teach her. There’s good enough and justifiable reason to hold her hand. Do it respectfully. I trust you.”

Jae nods solemnly. “A man must go beyond the level of basic human decency to earn romance and a relationship.”

Matthew nods back, sagely. “You have learned well, young grasshopper.”

Next to Jae, and sitting cross-legged on top of the stone table, June is looking a little sick. “Do I have to go to the rink with you?”

Even if I didn’t see June and Sungjin making out, I can’t get the mental image out of my head. I can’t—and shouldn’t—judge her for her decision to go out tonight because for all I know, she and Sungjin have had their talk about not being exclusive, or it could simply be a part of their cover story. And this thing with Sammy can just as well be a platonic hangout. Yet I can’t help myself from thinking about how unfair this is for Sungjin.

But then again I don’t know what June is feeling.

Does anyone truly know what anyone else is feeling?

But also, other people’s love lives are really none of my business.

The same, however, cannot be said for Jae’s situation.

Younghyun leans his hip against the side of the stone table next to June. “You know you don’t have to get on the ice if you don’t want to. The last time you put on skates—”

June groans into her palms. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Then she looks up from her hands. “I thought you and Coach Taec and Coach Yubin are meeting that guy from that team?”

Younghyun glances nervously at me. “Yeah, I am. It’s at this fancy restaurant near the plaza. I can catch up with you guys after. It’s not gonna take long. Coach says we should just go as a formality. It’s nothing.”

But the looks on his teammates’ faces don’t translate to just nothing.

Younghyun has his secrets, things he carries, burdens he does not share, and I respect that. But what would it take to fully be a part of his world?

“What do you mean you’re catching up?” Jae asks, bringing back the much needed levity to the situation. “It’s a double date. Not a bunch of us hanging out.”

Younghyun shrugs at him. Makes a face. “What if you need backup?”

“For what?” Jae wheezes. “I got this situation under control. Also, I got Sunshine on a cloudy day.”

Jae and June exchange fist bumps. Like the bros they are.

“Sammy says he’ll be over in fifteen minutes, ish,” Matthew says, reading from Jae’s phone. 

“Why Sammy?” Younghyun whines. “You could have brought Wonpil.”

“I thought you don’t date guys on the team?” I ask June. Her usual grunge aesthetic is softer today, with more color, and the rogue slash of pink on her sweater.

“Actually,” June says, rolling her eyes. “I never said that. They all just assumed.”

They all stare at her like this is brand new information. Why, oh why, is Sungjin not here to see and hear all of this right now? Are they avoiding each other? Did I witness a fight this morning? And if the no dating the team is not necessarily true, why keep their whatever a secret?

“Kinda makes sense, though,” Jae pipes in. “You’ve probably seen everyone in various states of undress and emotional states, there’s absolutely no mystery there to uncover. There’s no thrill. It’s all of us, belly up and at our lowest of lows. Not cute. Also how awkward would that be, right? Like what if you fight and break up? We’re gonna be forced to take sides and that’s the worst thing ever. And that’s gonna be a nightmare! Because we love you, Sunshine. And, can you imagine, how hard a time we’re gonna give this hypothetical teammate because he has to deserve you. It’s gonna be a mess.”

Ah, of course.

Younghyun seems to turn this over in his mind. “Actually you know what? I changed my mind. It’s a great idea. Can he skate?”

“Skating really isn’t the issue here,” Matthew says, “If they both can’t skate, then it’ll be an experience, right? Learning something new together is a good way to bond.”

“Since when were you the expert?” Younghyun teases.

“Since forever.” Matthew checks on Jae’s phone again. “You’re meeting Hyerim at the plaza? She says she’ll be there on time as scheduled.”

Jae nods. “She said she’ll meet us there.” He turns to me. “PD-nim, any final thoughts before we go?”

I only have one thing in mind. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Jae looks down at himself: beat up high-tops, beat up jeans, and his hockey jacket over a yellow hoodie. “No good?”

“That’s what I told you.” Matthew slaps the back of Jae’s shoulder. “I told you you gotta look like you made an effort while still looking like you. I don’t care if she already knows what you look like. Effort is effort. You gotta make an effort.”

“I did make an effort,” Jae protests. “I showered and everything. This is a freshly laundered jacket. Smell it.” He leans over, pushing his collar into June’s face.

June backs away, kneeing Jae out of her personal space. “You know what? If you asked her out and she still said yes, maybe she likes you exactly for who you are.”

“You offend me.” Jae clutches his chest in mock hurt. “Maybe she asked me out on a date.”

“Did she?”

“No.”

Matthew reaches over and pulls Jae’s glasses off his face. “There, better. It’s like magic. Look at you, you were beautiful all along.”

I…I’m just glad I’m sitting down while witnessing all of this. 

Younghyun calms his laughter down long enough to add to the discussion. “I really want to say just be yourself…you know what? Just be yourself.”

We wish Jae good luck one last time before letting them go when Sammy arrives. Matthew heads off as well, making up some excuse so it doesn’t sound like he’s about to follow the others on their date but it’s pretty obvious what he’s up to.

“I was going to tell you,” Younghyun says, once we’re alone. There’s something about his expression which tells me he really doesn’t want to talk about it. “About the dinner thing tonight.”

“It’s okay.” He doesn’t want me to press him, and I can feel his reluctance. I know Younghyun has his problems, and that everything isn’t about me. Or us. But he won’t tell me what it is, and that hurts. And I don’t have to be happy about it, either. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “I gotta go.”

“Later,” I answer, just to have to final word. And it’s completely unsatisfying.

He smiles, an unexpected parting gift. And then he’s gone.

On my way out of the quad, I run into Sungjin. He looks surprised to see me, as he usually is. An idea worms its way right into my head without prior thought, and it’s so tempting I can’t let it go even if I tried. It’s the most immature idea I’ve ever had, but with my temper spiking the way it is, it’s the only idea that makes sense.

“Do you want to go to the plaza and pretend we have official business when we’re really just going to spy on people?”

His brows go so high up his face it’s comical. “What people?”

I huff. “Younghyun. June.”

I expect Sungjin to deny it, but he’s not hanging out by the quad for absolutely no reason. He knew the team would be here. “You know what? I’m in the mood for pasta.”

Chapter Text

While Sungjin and I have no intentions of keeping discreet, the same however cannot be said about the irony of Wonpil, Dowoon, and Matthew with their hoods up, sunglasses over their eyes, and face-masks meant to keep them unidentifiable. Sure, most people just walk past them. The same people who give them second looks for being…well…too conspicuous with their trying to blend in. The three of them are huddled behind a potted plant, playing innocent as they held on to snack cups of the street food variety.

“They know June’s already seen them, right?” Sungjin comments, offhandedly. He’s got his hands in his jacket pockets as we’re making our way down the park square.

There’s quite a crowd out even for a Tuesday evening, with a range of students and the working class out for a stroll. The plaza is a popular date spot with its romantic atmosphere, twinkly lights, theme cafes and restaurants, the stone walkways, and of course the highlight of the coming winter, the outdoor rink. Couples strolled down, hand-in-hand, and this is the worst place to be if you’re single. Or, as the case may be for me and Sungjin, in limbo.

“How do you even know?” I crane my neck to get a better look at Jae, Hyerim, June, and Sammy by the edge of the ice getting their skates from the renting stall.

He shrugs. “She keeps looking over her shoulder and shaking her head.”

“I’m not sure if that’s creepy or cute, you knowing all that with just a look.”

All the same, what this tells me is how well he knows June, and this sends a pang of envy in me because what do I really know of Younghyun? I don’t have the benefit of years, and not even my tenacity makes up for what I have yet to discover. What do I do to make Younghyun open up to me, I wonder.

Sungjin pins me down with a look of disbelief. “You and Toronto keep looking at each other from across the room, across the table, anywhere really. You know when he’s looking, and he knows when you’re looking. You’re not one to talk.”

I open my mouth to contest that but ultimately decide against it. I don’t have a good enough argument against Sungjin’s claims. I thought I was being subtle, but I also thought a whole lot of other thoughts that turned out to be untrue. Instead, I say, “So what do you want to do?"

“I know where Toronto and the coaches are meeting the recruiter. We can stop by there if you want to. They should have started by now.”

I shake my head. “I want to annoy him a little, not ruin his future prospects.” Something occurs to me, and after a pause I ask, “Did he tell you about tonight or did you all just, kind of, figure it out yourselves.”

“It’s not exactly a secret he can keep from the team.”

I deflect on instinct and regret it immediately.  “You mean unlike you and June?”

Sungjin, though, just takes it in stride. “I was hoping you’d find out.”

“You really want to get caught, don’t you. That’s what you meant when you said to me that if I dig around enough I just might find something. You were talking about you and June.”

“I hoped you’d catch on to it.”

“And how does June feel about this?”

We dally by the edge of the rink and watch Jae and Hyerim hold hands on the ice. Jae skates backwards, gingerly pulling Hyerim along with him with both hands. They seem oblivious enough to the rest of the world around them, as though there is no one else on the ice and the first loop of Émile Waldteufel’s Skater’s Waltz is playing especially for them. The look like they’re having the time of their life, I won’t be surprised if people start into an elaborate production number with full vocal arrangements and choreography for absolutely no identifiable reason other than it’s romantic.

On the sidelines, June is taking her time lacing up her skates while Sammy patiently waits for her.

“The same way she feels about everything else,” he answers, starting down toward the skate rentals. “How do you feel about skating?”

The question is rhetoric, and that is how I find myself on the ice, trying to avoid flailing limbs, over-speeders, and couples stuck together like leeches. At least there’s Sungjin as a potential emergency response unit should all this go sideways. I like to think that even though I’m not his first priority, I’ll still make it out of here alive when the worst comes to life.

“So why don’t you just ask her out?” I finally ask, keeping to the sidelines near the railings. I can skate, but a girl needs a little warm up first.

Sungjin’s attention is divided between me and June. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

Only all the conversations I’ve accidentally eavesdropped on. I can’t say that, so I go with, “Because if you did, and she said yes, you’d be all official and your Sunshine wouldn’t be out on a date with some other guy. And in the unlikely event she said no, you wouldn’t be pining. You don’t strike me as the pining sort of guy. You’d have graciously accepted her rejection and moved on because now it occurs to me that the ice hockey team just might be the last of the decent dudes on this planet.”

He laughs at that. “Even without Coach Yubin and June, it’s just the basic level of human decency, isn’t it? It’s a little more complicated than just asking her out.”

“Ah, yes,” I tease, “Because the drunken instinct to curl up in your bed as though by muscle memory is very complicated, indeed.”

Pink colours the tips of his ears. “In my defence, June knows all the key codes to all the doors on our floor.”

“Mhm. And she’ll just as easily stumble into Matthew’s room, no problem.”

Sungjin doesn’t like the idea and it shows.

“Control your face,” I tell him, “I’m trying to make a point. You know they’re just friends. It’s Matthew. The B in BM means Beautiful Soul.”

“I know that,” he answers through gritted teeth. “I know how shitty I am for being jealous of that, but…”

“It wouldn’t be an issue if you had an ever so convenient label?”

He blows his bangs off his face. “Like you and Toronto have labeled whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Excuse me,” I scoff, but it’s good-natured. “You don’t get to be judgey.”

“I’m not being judgey. I’m just stating…it’s…”

“…Complicated?”

And it shouldn’t have to be.

By now, the Dream Team—Dowoon, Wonpil, and Matthew—have stationed themselves by the temporary bleachers set up on one side of the rink. They’re still determined to keep up their disguise, not that I think Jae would even notice at this point. Good for Jae and Hyerim, they’ve formed their little bubble, and are happy to stay in it for the duration of this date.

“She looks into him.”

Sungjin scowls.

But not at Hyerim, who I was referring to. Across the rink, also on the railing, are June and Sammy looking content to just be standing there and enjoying their inability to progress more than baby steps.

“I really meant Hyerim, though.” I nudge his arm.

Sungjin lets out a breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s really for Long Beach,” he says, “is why she’s doing this.”

“Because Matthew is too hot?”

Sungjin offers his arm and I take it. He pulls me into an easy glide down the centre of the ice. “Just relax and hold on to me. You’re doing great.”

I hold on to him with both hands, uneasy with the wind in my face and the wobble in my knees. “Oh, sure.” I roll my eyes. "It’s not like I haven’t heard June’s horror story of last year’s initiation.”

“Is that what she said? It’s really not my fault she has the coordination and the agility of a dead rock. I tried to break her fall, did anyone mention that? Because I did! I kept her as safe as I could.”

There’s that word again. Safe.

“Calm down, Hero. What actually did happen at last year’s initiation?”

Sungjin’s non-answer is all the answer I need all rolled into one pretty package of stress-induced silence. Something did happen last year. Something significant. Something Not Safe.

“Is that when all this started?” I ask. From the corner of my eye, I see the Dream Team reacting to something. They’ve probably noticed us by now. About time.

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Seriously? What would June say when asked?”

“A couple of months ago. Summer break. Maybe the start of the semester?”

“And what would you say?”

He shrugs. “Hockey tryouts.”

I snort. “Please don’t tell me that was the day you saw her for the very first time.”

The blush that colours the arches of his cheekbones have no place in the Sungjin I’ve come to know, but here we are. I always pinned him as the kind of guy who doesn’t fall easily but when he does, he falls hard. I just didn’t expect the at first sight part.

“And until now, nothing?”

He shrugs. “Have you ever dated an athlete?”

I shake my head. “I’ve dated, but never a jock. Not really my crowd. Also, too much competition.” And so many other reasons that don’t matter anymore. “But you guys aren’t so bad. I’m changing my mind about that.”

“You shouldn’t,” he grunts. “We’re the worst.”

“Because why again?”

“Because we can’t prioritise. And because we can’t see what’s good for us even if it’s a puck that hits us right between the eyes. The time it takes to be good at one thing means we’re shit at everything else.”

There’s a story there I know I should ask, but now doesn’t seem like the time. Maybe one day I’ll ask Younghyun if it’s true, even though I have a feeling I already know the answer. I can already imagine all the arguments over making time for each other, or the lack of time for each other, of having so much debris and distractions between them. Of how it opens up so many avenues of trouble.

Maybe I am dodging a bullet here, I just don’t know it yet.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

With a startle, I turn to Jae who appears from behind us. He’s got his beady eyes into a stare down like he honestly expected his first date to go in peace without his friends making it a Team Affair. “Where’s Hyerim?” I ask.

Jae doesn’t break eye contact. “She ran into some friends over there. What a coincidence, right? Coincidentally, I’ve come across some friends too. What a coincidence, right?”

Sungjin, however, is distracted. I glance over and see Sammy by the sidelines, waving an apology to June a few paces away. They don’t look upset. Just utterly amused, reconciling their lack of skating abilities. Sungjin, however, is not happy.

Especially not when Kang Younghyun shows up just as June’s feet slip from under her. They both fall into the ice in a yelp and a laugh, and Younghyun rolls over to check on her.

The expression on Sungjin’s face goes from annoyance, to worry, to fear, and to resignation. All in the span of a breath. When he turns to Jae, all traces are gone, replaced with his usual So Done With This Team look.

“Seriously, Cap,” Jae says, “I expected this from those three stooges over there, but not from you. You, too PD-nim. What is this betrayal?”

Sungjin just chuckles under his breath and pushes his hair back.

“You too, Toronto.”

I refuse to look behind me. On principle. But it doesn’t matter anyway because I feel Younghyun behind me and inhale the subtle scent of his cologne. He’s got June with him, an arm around her waist as he lead her to a skate. When I turn to say hi, June is exchanging an interesting look with Sungjin. And when I finally look up at Younghyun, he’s already got a brow raised at me and the beginnings of a curious smirk on his lips.

In summary, all of this begs the question: What are you doing here?

Naturally, that’s when Hyerim comes up to us. “Oh, hi! We’re going to get dinner. Do you guys want to join us?”

If she notices the awkward air, she breaks it with her invitation.

Which only leads to more awkwardness.

At dinner, we take up a cozy half-circle booth and it feels like the End of Days but at least Jae and Hyerim are having fun. Despite the knowing glances across the table, the actual meal goes without much incident. Because food. But as soon as Hyerim excuses herself to take a phone call from her classmates about a deadline, all Hell breaks loose.

“Seriously, you couldn’t have said no?” Jae demands, leaning over the table to whisper aggressively at us. “I’m sorry. I love you guys, you know I do. I’d join you to the ends of the Earth, I’d march right up to the butt of a Level 5 Kaiju with nothing but my hockey stick for you people, but you couldn’t let this night be about me? I finally got a date with the girl of my dreams!”

“Stop being so melodramatic,” June deadpans. “She’s so into you. I don’t think it matters.”

Jae tries not to break character and it’s only half-successful. “You really think so?”

I wholeheartedly agree with June’s observation. Hyerim likes Jae. She’s got that sparkly look in her eyes when Jae talks, and she hangs on to his every word without waiting for her turn to speak. The same goes for Jae. He adores this girl and he’s not afraid to show it. All night he’s been attuned to her, and nothing about it is contrived or complicated.

Why can’t we all be like that?

From the booth on the other side, Matthew adds, “You got nothing to worry about.”

Somehow, in the fray, the Dream Team added Sammy into their lineup so the four of them are in booth next to us, with only foliage and a plant box not nearly wide enough separating us. I almost feel sorry for Jae, but at the same time I really can’t see how else this night was going to go.

“So why don’t you have a nickname?” Hyerim asks when she comes back from her phone call. The question is for Sungjin. How we got to this topic is anyone’s guess.

“Because he’s lame,” Jae answers, dodging Sungjin’s dagger eyes. “Seriously. I went through a bunch, but nothing really stuck you know?”

June’s lips are pressed in an attempt to hold in her laughter. “Bob wasn’t such a terrible nickname.”

“Because he literally builds stuff, like all the time. It’s genius,” Jae says.

Hyerim smiles up at Jae. “Didn’t stick?”

Jae offers her a glum look. “No. And not without nonverbal threats of being slammed into the plexi. Make no mistake, I may look like a beanpole but I am compact. I can handle it.”

“Tell her about your stick handling skills,” Younghyun throws in. “He’s very good at handling stick.”

“Like magic,” Matthew pipes in from the other side. “Magic stick, ain’t that right?”

“Guys.” Laughing, Jae raises his palms to shut everyone up. “There is no I in team, my stick handling may be superior, and my hands so soft I can one-time a puck glove-side, but it’s not all about me.”

June takes a sip of her water and smiles. “Are we still getting paid if we stop building you up, buttercup?”

Hyerim’s bubbling laughter sparks a light inside Jae like no other, and there is no doubt that tonight is going exactly as it should for Jae. The two of them are so cute, it hurts. I almost want to take a snapshot of this moment to look at at a later time just to remind me of the good days because this is a kind of good I don’t know if I’ll ever witness again.

The way Sungjin is looking at June because of her perfectly delivered line opens up a whole new look into what I already know of him. Of them. And when June looks back at him, a challenging glance that throws down a glove in the ring, waiting for his next move, the air shifts.

None of us are really competing for the other’s affection. We’re all just stuck in this place not knowing how to move forward.

Younghyun’s gaze is waiting for me when I raise my eyes at him. I sill don’t know for sure what I want from him, which throws me off my balance because I usually have everything under control. My backup plans have backup plans. With Younghyun, it’s not so easy. So I want him. And I think he wants me, maybe he even likes me. I have no doubt there is real affection there. But then what? At the end of this long-overdue conversation that we have yet to have, does this mean we’re officially calling each other boyfriend/girlfriend?

Does he even have room in his life for a relationship?

Do I?

Relationships are a potential distraction and I can’t afford any distractions right now, especially when I have a fully planned out senior year ahead of me. I have an internship coming up, something that will easily take up all my time, and just two weeks ago Oliver Kim had the audacity to implicate that I was in danger of losing my chance at it. I’ve moved my life around this one internship because I want it so bad.

And Younghyun, when it comes to hockey, I know his focus and ambition is on the game 100%. He has the option to go pro even before he graduates, and even if he chooses to wait it out until after he gets his diploma and his degree, he still needs to concentrate on keeping his game and his grades up and leading the team to another Frozen Four victory. This is his life.

Failure is not an option.

But watching Younghyun from a distance?

Pining after him because I’m falling for him?

Wanting him when I don’t want to want him?

Not an option, either.

Maybe what I just need is to get him out of my system.

Keep it simple.

Right. Because I am totally equipped for this sort of arrangement, never mind that I’ve never dated—or not-dated a jock—and everything about this is unfamiliar. Also I’m just inexperienced, all around.

But just like how I entered this project with absolutely no idea how to go about it, I’m sure Younghyun will be more than willing to show me how this sort of game works. After all, he seems to be the expert on topics of interest within the campus.

Younghyun smiles, cracking through his usual mask of nonchalance a tiny bit, enough to let a sliver of light and happy through.

However this ends, I know it will be worth it.

Chapter Text

Of all accusations I take to heart, it’s charges of neglecting my friends that hurt the most for it’s the only one that I let get to me. So when Yerin and Jimin demand my presence Saturday afternoon, I don’t think twice and meet up with the usual suspects at Khunfections. The coffee shop is half-industrial and half-rustic in a way that shouldn’t work but does in perfect harmony. It’s a homey space that feels wide and open, and the potted cacti adorning the sills and the preserved flowers on the tables and countertops offer a sense of organic coziness. It’s packed, as usual, but we managed to get our favorite spot by the bay window.

Also relevant, the guy who owns the shop, the same guy who works there pretty much all day, every day, Nichkhun Horvejkul, is some kind of local celebrity and urban legend in these parts and we’ve never been the sort to shy away from discreetly admiring his princely demeanour from a distance. Some say he’s actually a prince in disguise, of legitimate royal blood hiding away here for his safety, and I’ll believe it at face-value and with no further questions. Responsible journalism be damned.

“He’s just so handsome,” Jimin sighs, dropping her chin into her hands. “But, like, in a really gentle way.”

“Like he’s not going to hurt your feelings at all,” Yerin adds, wistfully. “Not on purpose. And in the unlikely instance that he does, he hurts himself more because he only did what he did for your own good.”

Bambam rolls his eyes. “Why do I hang out with you people.”

“Good question,” Jimin shoots back, good-naturedly. “Why are you still here?”

Bambam wiggles his brows at me as he sips his iced coffee. “I heard from a little birdie that someone’s been fraternising with the enemy.”

“Ah, indeed” Yerin pipes in. “Someone’s been very, very busy—ahem, ahem.”

“Give me a break,” I protest, “Han Gain has me way out of my depth here. I’ve been so busy with this film project and classes and—”

“Oh we know who’s been keeping you busy,” Jimin teases.

“Really?” Bambam asks, “Kang Younghyun?”

I stifle a sigh. “The men’s hockey team, okay? You know all about the project.”

“Kang Younghyun, really?” Bambam shakes his head in a most theatrical fashion. I swear, he should have gone the drama student route instead of design. “Who are you? Are you sure you haven’t been kidnapped by aliens and replaced with some knock-off?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I say.

“I just can’t believe it,” teases Yerin. “You and a jock.”

“She’s been hanging out at Papa Tuan’s too,” Jimin adds. “Like all the years we spent avoiding that place. Meaningless.”

“Traitor!” Bambam gasps. “How dare you.”

I can tell it’s all in good fun, but I can’t help but feel guilty about it anyway. They’re right. This isn’t like me at all, but what can I do? I’m in too deep and I don’t even know if I can talk to them about all this. The rational side of my brain says of course I can talk to my closest friends about anything. They’re just teasing, after all. But another part of me is terrified. Not of their judgment, they will never be mean to me on purpose. I’m terrified of finally admitting my feelings out loud because the epiphanies from a couple of days ago still haunt me.

The facts are these:

Younghyun and I are friends. 

Friends who regularly study together, and walk home together, and generally just spend a significant amount of time with each other talking about random, little, everyday things.

And, yes, maybe we are also friends who hug a little longer than other friends do.

And we are also friends who kiss…or, anyway, have kissed.

I want to keep being friends with Younghyun.

But…

I also don’t think I can be just his friend.

And if I were to say all that out loud—I know it’s silly, but—what if Younghyun ends up like all the others? What if the moment the words leave my lips, Younghyun will be lost to me forever. It’s irrational and superstitious and there’s nothing I can do about it but suffer in silence.

My phone buzzes on my lap and I’m swiping to read the message before I can even think about ignoring it.

June: Papa Tuan’s 9PM

That’s it. That’s all it says but I just know I’m grinning like an idiot. It’s only from June, but I already know who else will be there and how the night will go down. I shoot a quick reply.

Should I bring my camera?

June: You decide.

That could mean anything so I decide to make it official business. Just to be thorough.

“Hello?” Jimin waves her hand over my face. “What were you saying again about the hockey team being all professional business?”

I gently slap her hand away. “You guys are more than welcome to hang out with us if you want to. It’s not like you haven’t before.”

Bambam’s eyes go wide. “And I wasn’t invited to see you go all googly-eyed?”

“Excuse you,” I scoff, playfully. “I do not go googly-eyed.”

It is, of course, in the middle of us laughing that Oliver Kim of all people come walking into the coffee shop. I do my best to pretend I didn’t see him walk in, focusing instead on maintaining a less than sour mood. Ugh. Why does Oliver have to show up here and now of all times and places? He goes to the end of the long-ish line without any indication he’s seen me. For now, anyway.

“Don’t look now, but the spawn of the devil just walked in,” Yerin says, twirling her straw around her drink.

“Don’t give him that much credit,” I mutter back. “He’s not nearly as important.”

“Is he still giving you a hard time?” Bambam asks.

“When hasn’t he?” I answer. “He’s been going on about how I should be disqualified from this internship because of my dad. As if.”

“Yeah, as if that’s going to suddenly make him better than you,” Jimin quips. “He’ll still be a second-rate, trying hard visionary. Air-quotes. Air quotes.”

“What if he’s right, though?” I can’t help but worry about it. “This isn’t the first time he’s kicked me out of a competition.”

“Well, Professor Han wouldn’t pull you out of the competition when you’re already halfway through it, would she?” Yerin asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit. It hasn’t happened before, at least not this far into the thing. When the professor would sit me down to tell me I might not be “qualified” due to conflicting interests, she’d do it early on. Sometimes even before I can submit my application and/or interest to apply. “I don’t think so.”

At least I hope not.

“He’s just insecure,” Jimin assures me. “Because you’re going to get this thing. Even when you all started at, like, level zero, you’re still going to wipe down the bar with their faces. His face. Maybe just his face.”

“Maybe not so violently,” I say.

“Maybe just a little violently,” Bambam suggests, and Yerin nods in agreement.

I don’t want to keep talking about Oliver Kim just in case he stops by and hears his name being thrown around. It’s not like his ego needs any more boosting. “For real, okay. You guys want to go to Papa Tuan’s with the hockey team tonight?”

I’m not sure how exactly I want them to answer since I feel like I’ll only be exposing myself, but better this way than having to explain to them what’s really going on. If they figure things out by themselves, which I have no doubt they will, then that will save me the internal stressing out about finding the words and the right time and place to admit to what’s really going on. My friends can be highly perceptive, and while I could ask them out outright…I find that I just can’t.

I’m hit with raised brows and pursed lips, all of their faces pinched with barely retrained teasing and amusement. I sigh and take a bite of the cheesecake we have for sharing. We usually order two or three different slices of cake for the table. Right now I have a choice of s’mores cake, matcha cheesecake, and strawberry shortcake. I go through all three to keep myself busy.

“The offer has an expiration date,” I say nonchalantly. The extended invitation might seem a little awkward in retrospect, but knowing these things it’s not an exclusive house party. It’s just Papa Tuan’s and I could just be at the same place at the same time with my own set of friends. Because that absolves me of all guilt, sure.

As aside, if it just happens to distract me from Younghyun then happy coincidence. Right?

Who am I kidding?

“Tonight? Already?” Jimin asks, shaking her head. “Was that the message you just got?”

“Do these people not extend common courtesy of setting up an appointment with two weeks notice?” Yerin says, propping her chin on her hands.

“It’s not a business meeting,” I shoot back even though I know it’s a joke. “Sometimes spontaneity is good for you.”

Bambam bursts out in laughter. “You? Spontaneous?”

“Ha. Ha.”  I roll my eyes. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

They know it. I know it. We’re just messing around because sometimes that makes difficult pills easier to swallow. Eventually, they relent and agree to come with me tonight. Counting this as a small victory, I invoke a toast and raise my cup of iced mocha.

Unfortunately, that’s when Oliver decides to grace us with his presence. “I hope you’re not toasting to your internship.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I tell him without looking up at him. Our table is suddenly quiet. “I happen to have a life, you know.”

He laughs. Because I guess that’s amusing for him to hear. “I’ll see you around,” he says, patting the backrest behind me. All of it feels ominous to a degree, and I shudder as soon we ascertain he’s out the door.

“Is it just me, or is he getting creepier?” Jimin says, releasing a breath.

***

At Papa Tuan’s, it’s always a party.

The hockey team is at their usual spot at the end of the room, claiming the entire corner for themselves with Wonpil somehow gaining control over the music that’s playing over the speakers. The cramped space is loud and jammed with bodies, and there’s barely enough room to breathe.

It’s just another weekend, I remind myself. This new life is beginning to grow on me, after all. Even my friends seem to be enjoying themselves, relaxing in their booth with a fresh batch of chicken to munch on. They seem to be happy in their bubble to bring up whatever it is they think I have with Younghyun. At least no one’s insinuating that we’re dating. At least not yet. We came in a little later than the set time—Bambam insisted on being fashionably late—and found the others already going on about their next set of games in the regular season. It’s already November, which means I need to be working on my video, more editing less filming. In a few more weeks, the semester will end and then…

…and then what?

Younghyun is happily eating a burger in his side of the booth. When we came in, his eyes met mine almost immediately and he acknowledged my presence with a hint of a smile. I don’t know where to go from here, but at least Sungjin is keeping me company.

“How are things on your end?” I ask him.

We’re in line to order more food. Sungjin had announced himself first and I followed after him not quite sure where to place myself in the grand scheme of things at the table. Matthew and Jae have delved into another philosophical debate on whether or not the Player One and Player Two distinction has certain tropes and stereotypes and I extricated myself from that situation before it gets too intense as it is wont to do. Only June seems capable of sitting there and listening to them talk all night.

Sungjin chuckles darkly to himself. “Not any better than your end, I think.”

I frown. “I don’t mean to pry, but I was under the impression that things only get better from hereon for you two.”

At least Sungjin isn’t keeping it a secret from me anymore, although I’m lead to believe he never meant to keep it a secret from the team at all. It just happened that way and he went with it despite himself. I can see it—for what little I can infer—from June’s perspective, but at the same time how could they stay at this level and not want more?

He shakes his head. “I feel like we’re going backwards but at the same time not really, if that makes sense.”

“It kind of does,” I answer. We move a step forward when the line shifts ahead. “Do you at least talk about it?”

“We talk about…” He tilts his head in thought. “…A lot of things. Things I don’t talk about with anyone else, and I know it’s the same for her. Sometimes we talk about what we’re going to do once we graduate and get out of here and I know that’s scary for her.”

That’s so much more than what Younghyun and I have had conversations of. He’s been more open, that much is true, but I still can’t help but think he’s still keeping some things from me. Things that scare him, things he deeply worries about. He talks about his parents often, his childhood, and he talks about what he likes about what he does now, but when he’s quiet that’s when I can tell there’s more going on inside his head than he lets on. Younghyun always acts so cool and composed, the flashes of vulnerability he allows me to see breaks me apart little by little.

How can I get Younghyun to trust me?

When we get to the counter we order another two baskets of chicken—one just for Sungjin and another for the table—and a round of drinks for each of us. I swear these hockey players have the appetite of four people each. After we pay and say our thank yous, we inch to the side of the counter to wait. 

“So what exactly are you and Younghyun?” Sungjin asks point-blank.

Of course, he would.

“Wow,” I answer, drawing out the word as long as I can. “That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. “I guess the better question is what do you want you two to be?”

“You don’t ease into a conversation, do you?”

He shakes his head. “No. What’s the point?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “You know how sometimes you need an introduction, body, and conclusion to argue a thing?”

“It’s not an academic paper.”

“Well it’s definitely more difficult than an academic paper.”

“You can wait all you want, but take it from me. Waiting sucks.”

Something about his tone—well, not something, since it’s the unmistakable note of longing that I recognize causes me to sigh with him. It’s not that Sungjin is just simply into June. It’s not that he just wants to keep fooling around with her because the way he’s looking at her now?

There’s so much more there than I can begin to understand.

I look over my shoulder, at June who is massaging her temples while laughing as Jae and Matthew escalate their debate into a whole new level. While I don’t hear them from this far away, I can hear their voices in my head. Suddenly, I’m conflicted about going back there.

Also, I should have brought my camera.

Eventually we make it back to the table where the basket of chicken is attacked like a piece of fresh, juicy, red meat dropped into a containment of hungry baby velociraptors. My friends are currently being entertained by Wonpil and Dowoon, and so now the spot next to Younghyun has been freed.

I should join my friends, but I also really just want to sit next to Younghyun because I missed him. At the same time, I don’t want to make myself too available because that’s one of the rules when it comes to these things, isn’t it? I don’t even know. Before I totally freeze in a panic, I join my friends at their table and listen to Wonpil’s Hockey Tales in the Kitchen. Sungjin joins us, too. Says it’s too loud at the other table and he can’t eat in peace.

“Why do you come to these things?” I ask him. The others are too busy laughing at something Wonpil said to pay attention to us. “You clearly don’t like it the same way the others do.”

Sungjin just shrugs. Tosses his head over toward June.

Oh. I see.

Same.

“Besides,” he continues. “Someone has to be responsible around here.”

That makes sense and I nod in agreement. “That’s right. Because you’re the Team Dad.”

He seems utterly resigned to the designation and doesn’t protest other than the furrow of his brows. “When do you decide it’s enough?”

The question catches me off guard and I take a moment to let it sink in.

I let my gaze wander over to Younghyun. He’s leaning against the wall, one shoulder planted firmly in place and his body angled toward me so he can watch me in his line of sight without being too obvious.

“I honestly don’t know,” I tell Sungjin. “Honestly? I wish I knew.”

Chapter Text

When Philosophy class ends, I’m more than a little apprehensive when Younghyun doesn’t immediately turn to me with that annoying smirk on his face to demand that I rearrange my evening plans for him. Fine. Maybe demand isn’t the word to describe what he does because, I suppose, deep down inside I’m willing to rearrange my day for him even without him asking anyway. Even though we already spend so much time together, the thought of not spending any more time with Younghyun brings the oddest clench of regret to my gut.

But the worry only lasts for all of thirty seconds. Younghyun leans his hip against his seat and tilts his head at me. “You doing anything tonight?”

I take a second to zip my bag up and sling it over my shoulder. In my planner, and in bold print, it says something like Video Project followed by a list of tasks I would like to get accomplished over the week. “Working on the video. Studying. The usual.”

He knows this, of course. By now, he knows my semester almost as well as I know his. “Library?”

There’s a strange tone to his voice I can’t place. It’s a question that’s layered, but how many layers am I supposed to uncover? The chase that had once been so fun is now reaching a waning fadeaway. It sucks when you like someone more than they like you, when you want more than what the other person is willing to give. But I promised myself I won’t let this end without getting what I want, even if it is a compromise because what if Younghyun can't give me all that I need?

“Yeah,” I answer, feigning levity. “Gotta get to work. Did you want to do something tonight?”

To regain some semblance of control, I walk out of the auditorium first so Younghyun is trailing behind me. Not for long, though. He’s slowing to a leisurely stroll next to me before I can even make it ten steps down the corridor. From the corner of my eye, I see him contemplating me with a barely muted heat in his expression. I’m aware of it even though I’m not looking directly at him. It’s the kind of awareness that washes over me, a line of cold that creeps up on you at the rink when you least expect it. Cold, but also so very hot.

Younghyun’s hand slips into mine and he backs into a darkened alcove, pulling me with him. The murmur of students filing out and rushing into classrooms fades into a distant buzz as we disappear into the shadows of the large columns. Hidden from view, it’s just the two of us and the ridiculousness of it all. I can’t think straight anymore. My skin is warm all over and scorching where his fingers connect with mine. I look up into his eyes, not even surprised at the naughtiness in his expression. But beyond that, his eyes mirror what is also in my own gaze. Need. It’s need. And it’s cresting inside me with desperate purpose.

His gaze darts down to my mouth and then back up. “You work too hard. You can afford to be lazy for one night.”

That’s ironic coming from Mr. Never Takes A Break, but I don’t drag him—not even subtly—because I want this too. I want this lazy night for him. And for me. For us. “I guess one night isn’t going to set back all my future plans.”

His brows furrow for a split-second, too fast for me to be sure it was even there or wonder what it was for. “One night isn’t going to ruin your future.”

It can, though. One night can change everything. But I don’t say that out loud because the moment is too good to voice out thoughts like that. “Promise?”

I meant it to be teasing, but the word comes out as a breath and makes the sentiment more serious than either of us is ready for. Younghyun just smiles that slow teasing smile and reaches out to cup my jaw. Before I can do the same, he slides his big hand around to the back of my head and tugs me closer. Strong arms pull me against a hard chest and my thoughts are flying away before I can even get them together.

He dips his chin and presses a kiss against my lips. “Promise.”

I try to take a half a step back to process but he tugs on my hand and kisses me again, and this time it’s not a peck. Younghyun kisses me hard, and I lose myself in his taste and his heat and just everything about him. I never expected Younghyun. He just snuck up on me and now I don’t know how I’ve ever lived without him. How it was possible that I went about my day and hung out with my friends and dated other people without having him in my life. Suddenly he’s become so important, I don’t know how to fit him in all my plans.

Younghyun breaks the kiss with a soft laugh. “Skip studying tonight,” he says, “Come with me instead.”

“Where are we going?”

“On a magic carpet ride,” he teases with a glint in his eyes.

I don’t doubt that it’s a magical ride. “Younghyun, where are we going?”

“To the hockey house,” he says, voice low and huskier than normal. “If you want to.”

“Won’t everyone else be there?” I ask because: Yes, I want to. An enthusiastic yes with no reservations other than a mild concern over being disturbed by his teammates.

“Don’t worry about that,” he murmurs, his thumb drawing circles on my cheek. “It’s okay.”

I nod. “Okay.”

Younghyun takes my hand and we walk down the hallway together like we’re together. My heart is beating so hard and so fast inside my chest, I don’t know if I’ll even make it all the way to his room. Calm down, I tell myself.

Calm down so you can fully be present in this moment to enjoy it.

I don’t remember much of the walk happening—I don’t remember the walk at all. All I can think of is the ball of nerves in my stomach, that violent flutter of butterflies making me weak in the knees and jelly everywhere else. While I don’t think I’m going to throw up, I have no doubt I’ll need a full moment to settle down. Because this is happening. Whatever this is, it’s so totally happening. Minutes later, I’m climbing up the hockey house, making my way up the stairs, and pausing at Younghyun’s door while he fumbles with the passcode lock. The narrow hallway is empty this afternoon. I hear nothing and no one. The flutters in my gut sink into a heavy ball in my core. The feeling presses down on me like gravity focusing all of its force on me.

Younghyun pushes the door wide open. “We don’t have to”—he clears his throat and coughs—“we could just…” 

I realize he’s searching for apprehensiveness on my face so I step into his room first, feeling a sense of gratification in the glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. “I want this,” I tell him softly as I pull my coat down my arms. The admission doesn’t scare me as it does surprise me. It’s more than an eagerness to kiss and be kissed. I want him to be a part of my life and I want to be a part of his life the way hockey is to him.

Taking a breath, I sit on the edge of his bed and push my things aside on the floor.  The afternoon light spills gently through his blinds, casting a warm light in the room. After separating himself from his puff jacket, Younghyun joins me, quietly making his way around me with the most serious expression I’ve seen on him outside hockey. Neither of us speak, neither of us in a hurry to fill in the silence. We should talk about this, though. At least talk about what we’re both asking for right now. That’s the responsible thing to do, after all. I may not have had a lot of dates, but I always made sure to have this conversation should I find myself in the situation. But my lips can’t make the words because how do I say I want it all?

“I just really want to kiss you,” Younghyun whispers, inching closer to me.

“Just kiss?” I inhale sharply and breathe him in. 

He chuckles under his breath. “I want to kiss you everyday and I want more than that. But we don’t have to do anything more than kiss tonight. I just…I just want to be with you. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” I sigh. It’s more than okay. I want this too. I want it so badly. “I want…”

He licks his lips nervously. “What do you want?”

He isn’t even touching me yet, somehow understanding boundaries—he always has and he had never crossed them in spite of himself. Younghyun is just waiting for his green light, prolonging the agony of Not Touching when all I want is his hands on me. I know he wants the same, I can see it in his eyes and the way his breaths are too deep and then too shallow and never in between. I want this boy so badly. His affections and his everything.

I look straight into his dark eyes and muster the words. “I want you.”

Younghyun’s eyes flutter close for a moment. When he opens them, I’m lost in his gaze. “Then come get me.”

He as good as told me to kiss him, but I’m still not prepared for the force of the moment when our lips crash together. It doesn’t hurt. Younghyun is too gentle for that, but there’s something different in the way he’s kissing me now that wasn’t there in the way he had kissed me before. There’s a tremble in his lips and in his hands, and I realise it is the same for me, too. His desire hits me like a puck between the eyes and I have stars dancing in my vision. My body is ready. But my heart? I’ll have to deal with that later.

Younghyun pulls me into his lap to straddle him, and his hands grip my thighs and pulls me even closer against him. Frozen heat starts deep in my core and spreads outward like ice fractals on the surface of the water, gripping me in a vise. I let my palms wander down his chest and then under his pullover and his inner shirt. He moans when my fingertips graze low across his stomach in light scrapes. Feeling braver, I skim a hand up the smoothness of his abs, wishing I could see them. So I tug it upward until he gets the message, breaking our kiss to toss it over my shoulder and to the floor.

Every time his lips kiss a new patch of skin, I shiver with pleasure. When his tongue tickles my jaw, I turn my head toward him and our mouths meet again in a slow incredible kiss that lazy and teasing but still in total control. I angle my head to deepen the kiss, craving more of him, craving a connection deeper than lips on lips. A throaty rumble comes from the back of his mouth, and my belly clenches in response.

 But I still don’t know how to ask for more.

Our kisses take on a hot rhythm. Push and pull. Pull and push. I feel him between my legs and it’s making me feel just a bit more braver than before. So I kiss him back, exploring his face with my mouth and touching him where he’s open and exposed to me. His mouth stays locked to mine as he gently pushes me onto my back, settling on his side beside me. One warm hand curves over my thigh, gliding gently over the material of my stretchy denim jeans. He doesn’t do anything else, just keeps his hand there and squeezes gently like it’s a gesture of assurance when all it does is light a fire.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast.” His deep voice tickles my lips, and then his tongue swirls over the corner of my mouth.

I clutch at his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, lifting his head to hold my gaze in wait. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess,” I confess. My voice is all breathy and weird. “I’ve never done this before.”

He bites his bottom lip. He looks so hot, it’s frazzling all my senses. “It’s okay. Just tell me if something makes you uncomfortable.”

I wiggle around and lift the hem of my sweater and Younghyun takes the hint and helps me out of it. He drops it down the side of the bed and turns to me with those deep, dark eyes. It’s not everyday that I decide to be with someone this intimately, and I know in my heart I wouldn’t just do it if I wasn’t sure. I know he wants this, too. Whether or not we go all the way, it doesn’t matter. This is enough for now.

“I’m sure,” I assure him. “This is okay.”

Younghyun’s kisses don’t stop even as he glides his palm up and down my body, and I arch into him wanting more. Beneath him, I’m a mess and nothing he does feels enough. There are too many clothes and there’s too much space where our bodies are not touching. He hesitates when he reaches the top of my jeans, then makes a husky sound when I guide his hand down to unbutton and unzip. His breathing becomes laboured and another husky sound leaves his mouth as his fingertips slip just beneath the fabric. When his hand moves just a little bit lower, I stop breathing.

Younghyun stops moving too but—thankfully—he does not move his hand away. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” I heave. “Still here. Still good.”

“Are…Are these coming off?”

I look up at him, and the sunset glow cast over him makes him more beautiful than ever. The fading yellow of the sun shifts into a soft hue of pinks and violets and I’m in over my head because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than this.

“Yes,” I tell him. “Yes, they’re coming off.”

My eyes adjust to the darkening room as Younghyun helps me out of my jeans. His strong arms reach out and pull me into him again, holding me against him as he mutters words of disbelief into my hair.

I’m here, I want to say out loud.

This is happening.

He dips his head and drops kisses on my cheekbones, down my jaw, my throat, and my collarbones. Even as I expect it, the bolt of desire that rips through me still takes me by surprise. We stare at each other for a second until I shake out of it, wondering if his kisses have somehow rendered me unconscious.

I am so pucked.

Chapter Text

Younghyun’s kisses are life-ruining.

There are kisses that are chaste, kisses that are sweet, and kisses that are passionate, but ultimately they’re just kisses and at most leave you a little dazed or high with a giddy rush. Younghyun’s kisses are wicked. The kind you don’t talk about. The kind you can’t talk about because the words don’t exist to describe the way they make you feel. Just thinking about Younghyun’s kisses has my heart beating out of control.

But it’s more than the kisses. It’s the connection I didn’t think would be there between Younghyun and I.

The kisses, though.

Younghyun’s kisses, truly, are life-ruining.

It’s still a wonder I manage to get anything done after.

The meeting with Professor Han is about an hour and something long but I don’t really register anything other than the fact that the deadline is fast approaching and all I have is hours upon hours of raw footage, half-transcribed interviews, and a half-assed proposal. I don’t even know what my angle is, even though I’m hopeful there’s a yet unseen thematic to what I’m doing and it will make itself known to me in due time. Though I might have been able to give a standard answer when asked, ultimately I’m still lost with no roadmap to any destination. What’s worse is that I think Professor Han is seeing right through me.

Even worse? I think Oliver’s caught on to it, too.

Professor Han lets us go on a high note, but I do catch her meaningful gaze as I’m leaving the room. The kind of gaze that rings with reassurance and says to keep my chin up and fight the good fight. About this time into the semester, someone’s about to breakdown and chaos ensues. It’s never been me. It will never be me. Normally, I’d stay behind and chat a bit. Give an update. Listen to the professor’s one-liner of wisdom. Anything. But I don’t do that this time. I get up and file out the office with the rest of the group, hoping Oliver will take his chance to suck up to the professor and get ahead.

I’m not that lucky.

Oliver strides alongside me, casually. Because, I guess, we’re friends. “I really hope you’re not going the sports-docu route. The whole Mighty Ducks, We Are The Champions kind of schtick.”

I don’t even give him the side-eye. Oliver doesn’t deserve that kind of effort from me. “Why? Are you doing the underdog angle with yours? Trying to make sure no one else does the same thing?”

He laughs. It’s funny, I guess. We’re the joking sort of friends, obviously. Obviously. “That’s a little too cliche, even for your liking.”

My liking?

Hockey gods, please slam this guy’s face into the plexi. Just once, please.

I can tell Oliver’s smoking me out. It’s what he does when he can’t find a way to kick me out of the competition. Just like real life, I heard him once say. The cut-throat competition starts early, after all. This is all part of the training. My dad says to let it slide, I have a cushy fallback after all. But I can’t just fall back. I refuse to fall back on the privilege people hold against me.

“Then again,” he continues, “that’s the shit that sells, isn’t it?”

It felt like a jab against me and my dad, but I can’t tell anymore. I can’t be bothered to feel any offence over the trash that comes out of this guy’s mouth. After some time one gets really good at filtering out Oliver Kim. So I let that one slide though my hands curl into a fist, and I grip the straps of my bag tighter so no one can see how this is affecting me.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” I mutter, searching out the hallway and the quad for an escape route.

Oliver laughs. “Good one. That’s funny.”

I’ve lost all disposable brain cells for this conversation so now I’m just fully intent on walking away. That’s when Younghyun shows up in my line of sight in his hockey jacket and his gym bag slung over his shoulders. He takes one look at my face, then he glances at Oliver and the corners of his lips pull into a displeased line.

“You must be Kang Younghyun,” Oliver says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Oliver Kim. Can’t wait to see your team video either, huh?” He tosses his head vaguely toward me. Of course, he doesn’t even spend the least bit of energy to properly acknowledge me. Not when Kang Younghyun’s around. “This one’s been secretive about it. No idea what she’s up to.”

Younghyun turns to me first. “Hi,” he says, his lips twitching into a half smile. “You ready to go?”

I nod, feeling lighter already. Something about Younghyun’s presence just makes my day better. “Yes, actually. Let’s go.”

“Where are you guys going?” Oliver snaps, probably not meaning to sound so snippy but it’s too late to rectify it. Oliver does attempt a smile, but he just looks a tad constipated. Maybe a little bit conniving, but he’s always that. His eyes fly to me, like the gears in his head are turning. Warily, he turns to Younghyun whose presence washes him out completely. “Together?

Whatever. It’s none of Oliver Kim’s business what I do with my life.

Younghyun doesn’t spare any effort to acknowledge Oliver, who is silently fuming next to me, and I’m trying not to laugh. As I walk away with Younghyun, I turn back like it’s an afterthought. After a small pause, I wave to Oliver, and say,

“Good luck with your thing.”

“I don’t like that guy,” Younghyun says after we’ve exited the building and walked out into the quad. “Seems smarmy.”

I laugh. “He is, a bit. But he’s irrelevant. Ignore him. That’s all I’ve been doing since the day we met.”

“That bad, huh?”

Part of me wistfully considers looping my arm around his, but I’m not sure if that’s something I can do. We haven’t really talked about anything despite having talked about everything. It’s difficult when he’s allowing me to know him as a person but not really letting me know where we stand in each other’s lives. I know what this video means to him, I know he misses his parents and the home he has known all his life, and I know he intends to prove everyone wrong about him, but I still don’t know if we can hold hands in public. If what it is that we have is secret kisses and that is all it ever will be.

In a way, I know it’s better to let him remain my hockey boy while I was his…what was I?

I think back to what Sungjin said to me about dating athletes. That they can’t prioritise. That they’ll always choose the game. I look at Younghyun in the jacket and the emblem he wears proudly. If you asked me at the beginning of the semester if I would ever date a jock, I would have said no outright. If you asked me two weeks ago, I might consider it from what I’ve seen. Ask me now, and I honestly don’t know what the answer is. Yes, I want to date Younghyun. I want to be his girlfriend. I want to be the person he trusts with his burdens, the person he goes to at the end of the day to find safety and peace, but I also know I will want more than just the end of the day. That’s selfish, I know. I can’t make him choose, and I won’t ever make him choose.

“What are you thinking?” Younghyun asks, swaying closer to me as we walk toward the restaurant where we’re meeting the rest of the team for dinner.

“I’m thinking your kisses are life-ruining,” I say instead of the truth. Still a truth, technically. I haven’t exactly stopped thinking about Younghyun’s kisses.

I expect him to smirk at me, maybe even drag me into the many shadowed alcoves of the university campus and ruin my life a little bit more with his kisses, but he just smiles in that particular way that means he’s thinking of something a little too deeply.

“Are they?” he teases. You’re thinking of my kisses right now?

I attempt levity because he just might kiss me and I might never get anything done. “I mean, it’s too much. Like right now, we could be kissing and we wouldn’t make it to dinner.  We could be kissing all the time. Imagine, if we’d met earlier. You’d have no time for hockey and I’d have no time for work experience and all this stuff.”

“I’d ruin your life because of my kisses?”

That smile. Perfect.

Our eyes lock, and a flash of heat sparks off inside me. Holy hockey gods. I know exactly what he’s thinking right now. Or rather, what he’s thinking about doing.

Kissing.

Me.

I’m thinking the same thing.

I’m thinking he’s thinking I’m thinking the same thing.

A part of me is still convinced that this thing between us would eventually run its course and fizzle out as soon as I indulge in the feelings I’ve been denying for so long. It’s always like that, isn’t it? The more you deny something, the more you lead yourself to believe you want it. And then you allow yourself to want it. To be overrun by the feeling, completely and utterly inundated by it. And then it’s gone. But right now, the feeling is overwhelming. It’s both impulse and need. A feeling that blazes inside my chest and I can’t breathe.

“You think they’d miss us at dinner?” The low husk of his voice sense tingles down my spine, I’m surprised I’m still standing up.

“I think they will.”

“That’s too bad.”

I don’t have an answer because my throat has clogged up with…with something I can’t quite believe has overcome me.

Younghyun chuckles lowly under his breath. “Let’s try not to ruin your life tonight, then.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” I joke.

He laughs, and I feel like I won something. “Okay, so tomorrow my schedule is hockey in the morning, breakfast, class, and then ruin your life with my life-ruining kisses?”

I’m thinking there’s more after the kisses though we haven’t quite explored that far into it just yet. I would, if Younghyun were to ask. I’ll say yes to him.

I don’t think I would even know how to say no.

“Sounds like a full day.”

Younghyun’s eyes sweep over me. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been walking this campus totally oblivious of you until, what, three—four—months ago?”

This time it’s my turn to laugh. “That’s because you don’t see beyond your stick. Or the puck. Or the goal. Eyes on the ice, and all that.”

His lips twitch into a pout.

“And, what, you were so intent on getting me Sungjin too, might I add.” I meant it as a joke, but for some reason the words weighed heavy in the air. “I mean, to be fair, I had a pretty obvious crush on him.” I think about my curse, and how Younghyun invoked the consequences once I admitted to liking Sungjin. Because, when you think about it, it’s about the same time Sungjin dared me to into digging into his life to discover what it is going on between him and June. And while I still have no idea where they are, I have my own business to deal with. Business just as complicated and confusing. Even now, even when we’re like this.

I hold back talking about June because I still don’t know what Younghyun knows. Younghyun, though, just shakes it off as well. He turns back to the pathway, and his mood shifts back to his usual insouciance. It’s only partly effective because I can tell something’s bothering him.

“It was just a crush, though,” I tell him. “Just a happy harmless crush, you know? But if it wasn’t for that, we wouldn’t be here.” Glad to get that out of the way.

“You’re saying Sungjin’s not life-ruining enough for you?”

“Hardly.”

A laugh shudders out of him. “You really think if we met earlier we’d get nothing done?”

I laugh, too. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else.” It was as close to a confession as I’ll allow myself to get. Sometimes I feel I’m so close to blurting it out, it scares me.

“Well, I’m ruining your life now.”

“You really are.”

“And you said you don’t do casual.” Younghyun says it with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement. I can’t really tell from the way he’s smirking.

There it is again, that slash of sunshine that beams through his impenetrable walls. “I didn’t realize life-ruining was a casual affair.”

“It’s really not.”

Despite myself, I allow my heart to be filled with a small sense of hope. Just the tiniest bit, a pinhole for when the full blast of light shines through. But hope is all it is, and hope truly is the most dangerous force on the planet.

At dinner, we’re joined by the usual suspects from the hockey team and my friends. It’s a loud table in a family restaurant and at some extra enthusiastic bouts of laughter I’m certain the manager is about to walk to our table and tell us off, but it hasn’t happened yet. Younghyun and I sit together in what feels like the first time in a long while.

Jimin, Yerin, and Bambam are about two steps away from livid talking about Oliver Kim. Somehow, Oliver got mentioned in the conversation when they’d asked how my meeting went, and Younghyun brought up running into him. I’m just sitting here enjoying my iced peach tea and watching my friends go around throwing insults at some guy that honestly doesn’t deserve this energy wasted on him.

I don’t know why I even thought my friends and Younghyun’s friends wouldn’t get along because now I don’t think I can separate the two worlds anymore. My friends are now officially going to see their next game, Bambam even bought his official merchandise just that morning, and they’ve planned out the logistics and what to do and where to go after.

Life is good.

Life is so good, I’m suddenly struck with the fear that it won’t always be this good.

That it’s exactly when life is this good that everything goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Chapter Text

Kissing Younghyun for kissing’s sake is one of life’s pleasures that nothing else can compare. It’s neither a race nor a marathon. There is no end goal other than enjoying each other’s company, each other’s lips and each other’s breaths. Reclined against his bed, there’s no outside world to stress over. All we have is this moment. I think about all the time he spends training just to be consistently good at hockey and can’t help but the same principle applies now.

Younghyun can be something that I could be good at too.

Knowing me, I’ll want to be the best at him.

I’ll give him the best of me.

Younghyun pulls back just barely, just enough to whisper against my lips. “Stop thinking.”

How does he even know that?

But never mind that. If Younghyun tells me to stop thinking so he can kiss me all the better, I stop thinking. No further questions asked.

So I give myself up to it, this inexplicable, mind-robbing sensation of being kissed. Younghyun’s lips are both hard and soft, and his breaths are harsh and heavy against my cheek. He tilts my chin up, fingertips ghosting delicately, caressing up the column of my neck to better angle my mouth against his.

“Better when you don’t overthink.”

It really is.

When he realigns his lips to mine, his tongue sweeps wickedly across the corners of my mouth and that’s it. I can’t think. When I gasp into the kiss, his tongue strokes along, coaxing his way in with another glorious caress and I’m more than willing to allow it. All this fire tracing a path down my skin and my bones, and Younghyun hasn’t even touched me yet. I get it now. It really is possible to go mad with desire and pleasure.

A hard knock on the door, like someone crashing into it, jolts me out of the trance.  A few seconds hoping it doesn’t go away does nothing because another thud follows after the initial noise. Younghyun just stares annoyingly at the interruption, as if looking irritatingly at whatever is on the other side of the door will make it go away.

Then the door swings open, and in comes June, wedging herself between the door and the doorjamb, with a drink tray stacked over a pastel coloured pastry box in her arms. “What in the actual fuck? Whatever happened to leaving a sock on the door? That’s, like, common courtesy. Come on, man. We have residence rules for this.”

My cheeks are aflame, not so much from being caught, though that’s a big part of it, but also because I’m still trying to catch my breath and place where I am in this current reality. June doesn’t appear as scandalised as she’s pretending to be. Maybe later I can assess whether or not I’m bothered by someone walking in on us, even if it is June and I know I don’t have to worry about June. Right now I’m just trying to breathe and regain consciousness.

“I could have been naked, you know.” Younghyun doesn’t move to sit up, but he does prop himself up on his elbow and throws his best friend an exasperated look.

“Boo-hoo. I’ve seen you naked.” Then June adds, her face paling from the visual memory. “I’ve seen everyone naked. I’ve been traumatised enough to last me a couple of lifetimes. Spare me.”

The corners of Younghyun’s lips quirk down. “You’ve seen Sungjin naked?”

June gives it some thought, but I think she’s just pretending. “Has anyone seen Sungjin naked?”

Or maybe it’s a dare between them. See who cracks first. See who gives in and tells all. Now that I think about it, does anyone else know about June and Sungjin? I can’t be the only person who has caught them in the act. They’re not exactly subtle about their not-so-secret affair if one were to pay attention at all. Just because they’re not physically demonstrative in public doesn’t mean there aren’t any other clues. There are moments when Sungjin looks at June like she’s literal sunshine. Hard to miss that.

“I have,” Younghyun announces proudly.

“Well, good for you,” June answers, patronisingly. “I’m sure you’re very proud of that achievement.” She lifts the stuff in her arms. “I brought churros and iced coffee because you were being sulky this morning and I thought you might need a little cheering up but I guess you got it all covered.”

Belatedly, I raise my hand to say hi.

The embarrassment quickly dissipates, and I’m more ashamed to admit that I felt it in the first place. All my life I’ve fought against people telling me what and what not to do, feeling any guilt about this is an extension of that. Besides, I trust June more than I trust Younghyun.

“I’ll be downstairs if anyone needs me,” she says, backing out. “I hope neither of you will need me. Just for transparency, I…will probably order a pizza. Or three. Or something. And chicken.”

“Leave my coffee behind!” Younghyun calls out, still not moving from his spot. I’m sort of half-trapped under him so there’s not much I can do.

“You don’t get to have it all, Toronto,” June yells from down the hall. “That’s not how life works. If you want it come and get it.”

And then the door slams shut and we’re alone again.

An awkward laugh bubbles out of my throat.

“Sorry about that,” Younghyun says, “She’s supposed to have study group until later tonight. I didn’t think she’d be dropping by.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, “It really is. It’s just June. I’m surprised she doesn’t live here herself.”

“She’s not gonna tell on us,” he reassures me, even if he doesn’t have to. “And thank goodness she doesn’t live here.”

“I know she won’t tell on us.” But now I’m thinking about what there is to tell about us. That we’re, what, fooling around? Whatever that means to them. Or that it matters to Younghyun what they think about us? About him? About me? I’ve been so used to being talked about in all the ways, I hadn’t really considered this. Because at the end of the day, Younghyun being talked about only serves to benefit him and his reputation. It’s unfair because the same story will only taint whatever the hell it is people already think about me.

I check the time and nudge him forward. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs.”

Younghyun falls into me, flattening me back down on the bed and burying his face in the crook of my neck. “No.”

“Did something happen this morning?” I ask, letting more than my allowed concern to slip through my voice.

“It’s not important.”

And yet June found it necessary to skip study group to deliver him relief goods.

“You know you can tell me.”

Younghyun looks up. Smiles. “It’s really nothing. Just some hockey stuff.”

Hockey is never just hockey stuff. Why is he still being like this?

He gets up and I feel the blow of the loss much more now than when June had interrupted us. What do I have to do to earn that trust from him, I wonder. Is Younghyun ever going to truly let me in, or is my place always half-out the door?

Younghyun and I take a few moments to right ourselves before heading downstairs to the kitchen area for whatever it is June ordered for dinner. When we get there, Sungjin is there too and has already made himself comfortable on the countertop across June. They’re just sitting there, not speaking or otherwise interacting out loud, but the energy feels unlike anything else I’ve ever felt in this residence. It’s…soft.

Domestic.

“I hope you don’t mind pineapples on your pizza,” June says to me when she looks up from her phone and sees me walk in. 

I just shrug because I really don’t have an opinion. “Either which way is fine for me.”

June pointedly looks at Younghyun in response. “See, we can all live in harmony.”

Younghyun just makes a face and heads straight to the fridge to get himself a glass of cold water.

There’s a conversation there I can imagine repeating itself over and over again, and it makes me chuckle under my breath. I take the stool next to Sungjin and give him a look that says: So, I see you two. This is nice.

Sungjin doesn’t dignify that with a response, but that’s so like him.

From the corner of my eye, I see Younghyun frowning at June. I’m sure it has something to do with Sungjin, though I still don’t understand what for. June ignores him for the most part. She pushes his coffee toward him, offers him the box of pizza which he takes a piece from. A myriad of thoughts and feelings suddenly flood my mind. Younghyun, being Younghyun, is unlikely to be oblivious to all this happening under his nose.

Therefore, Younghyun must know something.

If he knows about June and Sungjin, then I have questions. 

Mainly: What does he have against Sungjin and June?

Related, because it seems to be the trigger to all of this: What happened at last year’s Initiation Night?

And, perhaps most relevant now:

Why did Younghyun insist on setting me up with Sungjin if he’s known about them all along?

The thoughts swirling in my head have me clutching onto the countertop for support.

“You okay?” Sungjin asks, leaning forward, ready to assist if the need arises.

“Yeah.” I straighten up, still a little dazed. “I’m good.”

But now I have three pairs of eyes looking at me, waiting for an explanation which I don’t have.

“You sure?” June asks.

From across the counter, Younghyun’s worried gaze falls onto me. I can’t just say what I’m thinking out loud because that’s sure to cause trouble, and right before dinner time is not a good idea. Any minute now, the rest of the team will show up and that’s even worse for Team Spirit. Not now when they still have a few more games to play before the regular season is over. Hockey, first.

Right now I’m starting to hate hockey just a little bit.

When Younghyun sits down next to June, the atmosphere shifts. It’s a palpable change that alerts each of us that there are words that need to spoken but none of us are willing to begin the uncomfortable conversation that will inevitably arise. I know my place here, and that is to keep quiet until I’m asked to speak, and it is The Worst position to be in because the tension is suffocating me. Someone has to offer a distraction, any kind of topic that takes us away from the figurative elephant in the room, but it’s like someone’s just waiting for the pin to drop.

“How’s the video?” Sungjin asks. He’s probably the best at acting like nothing’s wrong. Or maybe it’s because he’s always been responsible for diffusing arguments and making sure a bunch of guys who live together and train a contact sport together don’t try to kill each other.

“Honestly, I’m having a bit of a hard time piecing it together,” I admit. I feel Younghyun’s eyes on me and I shake it off. “There’s a lot of material and so much I want to say. It’s a good problem to have. I don’t usually have this much raw thoughts over a topic. I think it’s also because it’s all so new to me.”

“Just don’t make us look bad,” Sungjin jokes, bringing much needed levity to the situation.

“Because that’s so easy to do,” June adds, holding back a smile. “Any interesting angles? Highlights?”

I rest my chin on my palms. “Honestly, I wanted to see more crying, maybe a bit more blood. I do have a lot of footage of this guy”—I nod at Younghyun—“kissing the plexi.”

I haven’t stopped thinking about Younghyun’s video either, and maybe that’s part of what’s keeping me from truly committing to an angle for my video project, aside from Oliver Kim and Professor Han’s opinions. But now that Younghyun isn’t trying to get me Sungjin, does that mean he’s no longer expecting his own footage? It won’t be difficult to put together if he’s just asking for raw stuff, but if the objective is to give back to his parents then it can’t simply be just that.

I catch Younghyun’s gaze as though he’s read my mind. “Can’t be that bad,” he says.

I shrug, noncommittally. “You’re still the record-holder, last I checked.”

And yet that doesn’t seem to be enough for him.

Dinner goes by like this, weird and stressful even as we’re trying to make it appear that everything is exactly the same and we’re all enjoying each other’s company. On some level, I don’t doubt that we’re all still friends. It’s just that…it’s complicated. The rest of the boys drop in, grab a slice of pizza, sit and talk for a while before heading back off to wherever they need to go. Wonpil lingers a little longer than the others, watching carefully as he tells us all about his day. 

Wonpil knows.

I think Jae and Matthew know something too because the moment they walk in, they exaggerate a laugh to hide their nervous energy. They fall back to old habits soon enough, but I can’t help but think something’s about to go down soon. They try, in vain, to invite June out of the house with them but in the end, they go back upstairs by themsleves. By the time we’ve had enough, I feel the tangle in my stomach rise up to my throat.

“So I need to go study,” June announces, heading toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

Sungjin follows after her like it’s the most normal thing, and just like that they’re off.

Younghyun stares at them and the direction they’ve gone off to long after they’ve disappeared from sight.

“What?” I ask him. “You look like you weren’t expecting that.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Because I think that’s a good thing. It really is a good thing.”

He scoffs.

“What are you so upset for?”

Younghyun grits his teeth. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, suck it up. That happened. They happened. Are happening.”

Then he looks at me, and it all falls into place.

I can barely hide the shock and anger in my voice. “Is that what this was all about? Your business proposal? The whole getting Sungjin to notice me? All that shit you came at me with at the start of the semester?”

Younghyun doesn’t confirm this, but he doesn’t deny it either.

I press forward. “Why?”

“Because,” he breathes. “For the longest time they’ve kept each other hanging and June doesn’t deserve that from him.”

I scoff. Laugh bitterly because it’s all so funny now. “Wow. That’s rich coming from you.”

Younghyun has the audacity to look confused.

I take a breath. A good, steadying breath because what I’m about to say will just about knock me off my own two feet.

“What are we, Younghyun?”

Chapter Text

“Younghyun,” I say again, with far more calm than I am currently experiencing. “What are we?”

I fully expect him to deflect, to say something so out of the blue and confuse me until I give up pressing for an answer. But we need to have this conversation now before we end up resenting each other for not giving what the other wants because neither of us knows if what we want is something we can even ask for. I don’t want to end up growing tired of Younghyun. If this is how it ends, then at least I will have the most beautiful memories of him to look back to.

Younghyun looks me in the eyes. “It’s a little more complicated than that, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Forcing calm and presence of mind, I take a seat on the dining table and gesture for him to do the same. My impulse to get up again and start pacing, but then I’ll look like the wounded animal in the scenario and Younghyun does not need any more power over me. I refuse to let him see how badly this is affecting me.

I will not cry.

Younghyun leans back against the countertop and braces his hands against the edge. “I didn’t think this would happen.”

“Didn’t expect what?”

“You and me.”

I maintain steady just as Younghyun has refused to break in front of me. I hate this. “What how exactly do you define ‘you and me’?”

He lifts one shoulder. Lets it drop. “You and I agreed we’d fooling around a bit.”

It hurts because it’s true. It hurts because for a while I convinced myself that I was okay with casual when all I ever wanted was…what did I want? Something serious? I don’t even know what’s happening between us. In my mind, maybe I have brought up the boyfriend/girlfriend thing but only even in abstraction because I have so much planned in my life I don’t know if I have time for all the physical and emotional demands. But what I do know is that I want Younghyun to trust me enough to let me inside his walls. I want to be the one who will be there for him for good and bad and everything else in between. I can’t stop him from hurting, and I know I can’t possibly carry the weight of his burdens on top of my own, but I hoped for more than this, at least.

My track record with guys is a disappointment, I don’t think I hold the record but I’m pretty sure I’m a contender. I may not know much about relationships. I may not know if Younghyun is someone I can have a proper, healthy relationship with. Nonetheless, I know what it means to be a decent human being, at least. I know I will be good to him, but he just won’t let me.

Stubborn, frustrating boy.

“You don’t deny it, then? When you said you’ll get me Sungjin?”

He chuckles darkly under his breath. “Thought if I threw you at him, he’d get distracted enough and prove he wasn’t serious about June. Or that he’d be more conscious about a camera following the team everywhere. Then they’d stop sneaking around.”

“And then what?”

He shrugged. “And then, that’s it I guess.”

I need to remind myself he’s not in love with his best friend. That’s not the reason he’s doing all this. Which makes it all the worst.

“You’re treating her like she’s a child. June is not a child. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions. It’s her life. You don’t get to have a say on how she lives it. Only she gets to make decisions about how to live her life. And from what I know of her, what I’ve seen, she’s well capable of having what she has with Sungjin while still being there for you, you jerkass. Did you really think you’d get away with manipulating everyone around you like this? Like…we’re just pucks on the ice?”

I can feel the anger swelling inside of me, hot blood rushing through my veins all the way to my head. Because I can’t help but think now that he’d been manipulating me as well. That all this time, he knew exactly how to make me do all his bidding. Just because he can.

Younghyun used me.

“Why would you do that to your best friends?” Both of them, because that’s what June and Sungjin are to him. Venom is seething in my voice. I am angry at Younghyun. Angry for June. Angry for Sungjin. Angry for me. Just absolutely livid.

Younghyun’s eyes sweep to the side, avoiding my glare. “If they’re sneaking around like that, then they can’t be serious. She deserves better.”

“And she has Sungjin, and I don’t know what else is better for her that freaking Park Sungjin.”

Younghyun doesn’t answer.

“I deserve better, too.” In the end this will come back to us because at the end of the day, June and Sungjin are none of our business until they come to us and allow us access to whatever information they’re willing to share. Right now the real problem here is me and Younghyun. “And don’t you dare say this thing between you and me is different because it isn’t. Not at all.”

Younghyun sighs quietly. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.” I really am trying not to go into hysterics here because I don’t need to alert the entire residence. Matthew and Jae will come running down in a mad rush, and Wonpil will end up somewhere on the sides observing while the Double Trouble Duo does something brash. Now, I’m all up for Matthew slamming Younghyun in the plexi as some form of vindication but violence will not solve anything on or off the ice. I don’t want to divide the team like this. Not because of something Younghyun did to me.

But, ugh, for once I can actually imagine a situation where Younghyun deserves to kiss the glass.

“We don’t have to fight about this,” he mutters. “We don’t have to cross that line. We don’t have to do it like this.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, too bad. Because I want to have this fight. I’m sorry you’re not in the emotional state to have this fight but we’re having it anyway.”

Silence. He runs this hand through his face in frustration.

“You used me to prove a point to someone you could have just had a conversation with,” I say. “I don’t care if you weren’t supposed to find out about them in the first place. You did. The right thing to do would have been to confront them about it. But you didn’t. You could have talked to them, but you didn’t. Instead, you did all this. You used me.”

“You didn’t seem to be so against the idea when I brought it up the first time.” Younghyun’s face shift with contrition once he realises what he just said, but it's too late now.

What I want right now is to stand up, walk over to him, and slap him in the face. “Yeah, I would have gotten what I thought I wanted, and you’d have proven your point and gotten a nice video to show for it. You’re right. It seems to balance out.”

His lips twist into a scowl. “Everyone would have—”

“Lived happily ever after?” I interrupt. “Do you really believe that? Because I think you failed to see where this would all go if your plan failed.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

“Because you win at everything.”

His jaw clenches at the accusation.

“You must have had so much fun writing that business proposal,” I say with a laugh of disbelief. “Or did you just have that lying around, looking for the right girl to fall into you rink? I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. Were you laughing at me the whole time? Did you think, wow this girl is so convenient. Not only do I get the perfect pawn for this job, I get a bonus prize as well.”

“I didn’t think that. I never thought that.”

But it doesn’t matter anymore. “I really did make a deal with the devil.”

“I didn’t think it would end up like this.” There’s a grim edge to his tone. I hate that I still don’t know how to read him. I can only see and act on what I see, but I still can’t tell for sure.

“Like how?”

“With me wanting you.”

Indignation prickles my skin and I scoff.

“I don’t want to want you,” Younghyun says quietly, his features turning into ice.

Acid burns my throat as I slowly shake my head. “You think you’re the only one? You think I don’t want you? You think that I don’t want to want you either?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he insists. 

“Then you shouldn’t have…”

I trail off not quite sure how to finish that sentence. Younghyun shouldn’t have walked me home, he shouldn’t have held me, he shouldn’t have kissed me or made me feel things I never thought I’d feel before. He shouldn’t have opened me up to a world of possibility, of mornings at the rink, breakfasts filled with laughter, and afternoons on the quad hanging out, and dinners feeling like the night makes us invincible. He shouldn’t have showed me the spoils of victory and the heartbreak of defeat.

Younghyun shouldn’t have happened to me at all.

I feel like I might throw up.

I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood in my mouth. Then I draw a long, unstable breath and cross my arms. I choke back the bitterness lining my throat. “Say what you really mean.”

Younghyun lets out a breath. “This was a mistake.”

Dumbfounded, I nod.

“You said it yourself, anyway,” he continues. “You were right. I am going to ruin your life.”

I laugh bitterly. “You already did."

Without looking at or saying goodbye to Younghyun, I stagger to the door and leave the hockey house. My entire system is about to shut down on me, and I will not let Younghyun see me cry or break down. Somehow, I make it back to my dorm in one piece and no tears. I burst through the door in a mess. I know I’m a mess. I saw myself in a mirror and I look so pathetic it all comes back to me why I’ve refused to allow myself to break. Why I’ve always played it safe because I never want to see myself like this.

When Yerin sees me, she opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong but ultimately decides against it. I can’t stand the sympathy flashing in my roommates eyes, and I realize I shouldn’t have come home so soon. But  I just want to crawl into my bed and hide under my covers. I want to just disappear for a little while. I want nothing more than to forget this ever happened. I just want to erase all this, Younghyun, hockey, everything, from my memory. I want to go back to a time when Younghyun never existed within my sphere of consciousness. I fall face-down into my mattress and hug my pillow.

Yerin doesn’t ask me any questions as she lingers by my bed. I swallow back the tears until I can’t anymore and let it all out. I cry. Yerin joins me on my bed and wraps her arms around me. She says nothing. She just lets me cry it all out without any judgement.

I feel like a part of my heart has frozen over and shattered into pieces but that’s not quite entirely true. My entire chest has hollowed out, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Chapter Text

It’s not even a breakup and yet I feel like a zombie because of what happened.

A week is not a long time but it feels like an eternity without Younghyun. I knew I’d be out of focus and just generally out of it for a few days, but I didn’t expect to feel the loss of him like a huge void in my life. Suddenly there’s this huge chunk of empty time and space in my regular programming and now I don’t know what to do with my life. I used to have a full schedule. What had I been doing before Younghyun?

Living a busy and fulfilled life, according to my organiser.

Working on the video takes up the rest of my day that isn’t already occupied by classes and homework, and while being constantly bombarded with images and memories of the hockey team and their top scorer might seem counter-productive to the end goal of purging them from my life, over saturating myself with hockey works as a solution. If I keep at it, I’ll get sick of them all and move on with my life.

At least, I hope.

That’s the plan, anyway.

But as with life, things never go according to plan. Especially when you need it to. Especially, especially when your sanity depends on it. Like the universe’s meanest joke, the Usual and Normal takes a role reversal with how my Before had no traces of the Hockey Team while the New Now has me running into them far more times than I like in a day. If in the past I can go for weeks without a whiff of them, all of a sudden they’re in my in face at all times. The worst part is it’s not even on purpose. Be it running into Dowoon and Wonpil in the hallways, or catching Sungjin and June across the quad, or  Jae and Matthew playing ultimate frisbee on the grounds, they’re Just Everywhere. 

From the hockey team there is no escape.

“Give me a break,” I mutter under my breath when I run into June in line for coffee at one of the many carts across the quad. I can leave. But also I really need caffeine to function. Already I feel myself passing out simply because I missed my morning cup because I was running late for the meeting with Professor Han. Besides, the whole idea is that I’m above all this.

I can do that. I’ve been doing it all my life.

“I can pretend you’re not here, if you want,” she says, contemplating a muffin basket on display.

While it’s not the scenario I wanted—the last thing I want is to lose friends over whatever it is Younghyun and I no longer have—it’s difficult navigating through it. June is Younghyun’s best friend. But while I know, rationally speaking, she doesn’t have to choose, I can’t help but associate them together and think about…well…everything. Maybe I’m the type of person who burns all bridges just to see a light at the end of a tunnel.

“But,” she says, picking up a chocolate muffin, “for what it’s worth, I’m on your side. On principle. Younghyun’s a jerk.”

I stare at the back of her head as the line moves forward. It’s not totally unsurprising. June is a major factor to what Younghyun and I argued about in the first place. She’s as much a player in this game as I am, made to play against her will and without her knowledge. Younghyun did her wrong, too.

“Sorry.” I pick up a box of sliced fruit. “You’re not the one I should be avoiding.”

“I get it, though,” June answers, tilting her head in thought. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s not fair but whatever.”

I just know she’s rolling her eyes at me and that makes me laugh for some reason. “I can’t believe it. You’re just as dramatic as he is.”

She turns to me from over her shoulder. “Me? Dramatic? I don’t think so.”

When June orders two coffees, I look around the stone tables and spot Matthew waiting with his books spread out. Matthew had no idea what Younghyun had been doing either. None of the team had known, and I’m almost too afraid to ask how the team moral is now because of what I triggered. While a part of me wants to believe I’m not that important, that I can’t have affected the team, there’s a part of me that just knows it won’t be the same.

“Tell me he’s told you what happened, at least?” I ask June. I need to know Younghyun has taken accountability for his actions.

June scoffs as she taps her card onto the terminal. “What do you think? All we know is that all of a sudden you’re avoiding us and Toronto’s sulkier than usual. Then Wonpil said he heard you two arguing in the kitchen, and Matthew said he saw you storm out. We did the math and we didn’t like how it turned out. We confronted Mr. Anti-Confrontational, and here we are.”

What was I expecting? Of course they would find out on their own. But the downside is the story they’ll piece together is the story told while I’m not in the room where it happens. I won’t get to tell my side, and knowing Younghyun he won’t be giving out the details either. At least not the information that’s salient to the discussion. But what exactly do I want to prove here?

“What happened?” I ask, carefully.

June waits for me to pay for my purchases and we walk back together to the table where Matthew pretends to look surprised to see me. I take a seat across them, ignoring the faint pang of worry in my chest. Something doesn’t feel right, and when my gut tells me something’s wrong it means something is terribly wrong.

“We finally have irrefutable confirmation that Kang Younghyun is a jerk of the highest caliber?”

Somehow, coming from June, the words sting deeper. 

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” June says, peeling off the paper wrapping from her muffin. “If it’s between you and Younghyun, I get it. It can stay that way. That whatever he did to you, you don’t have to tell us. We know it’s his fault, he said as much. But, ugh.”

“You don’t have to avoid us,” Matthew says, completing June’s sentence. “We’re not kids. We can handle it, you know. This and that are two separate things and all that compartmentalisation business. You’re our friend, too. You don’t have to break up with us and we refuse to take sides.”

“Younghyun really didn’t say anything?”

“He might have implied that it was his fault,” June starts, breaking off a piece of her muffin and stuffing it into her mouth. “And then I made him tell me what he did. And everything is his fault. I can’t believe he did that. Actually, I can believe it, which makes it all the worse off because how dare he?”

Matthew takes the muffin away from June’s hands before it gets completely crumbled between her fingers. This is a mess. I’ve never seen June this emotional before. And now I’m angry at Younghyun all over again. Because he didn’t have to do this to his best friend, too. All this, holding on so hard to her and refusing to let her go, and what did he get in return? He’s losing her, too.

“Younghyun should have just minded his own business,” June huffs. “Or he should have just said it to my face.” She groans angrily into her hands. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. I mean, I knew what he’s been doing but I didn’t realise he involved you, too. I just thought that finally he’s too busy with you to bother with me. Us.

“And so what if Sungjin and I have been sneaking around. That’s none of his business until I make it his business,” June continues in an angry whisper. “Whatever sneaking around we do, that’s no one’s business.” Then she turns to me. “Uhm. So…yeah…”

“I know,” I say, glancing at Matthew. “I, uh, may have accidentally run into, uhm, a few conversations between you two. And you’re not really as subtle as you think.” Maybe it’s best not to tell her I caught them making out in the locker rooms because that’s embarrassing, probably more for me than them. Also, Matthew? He is not taking this well.

“Yeah, well…” June nods and continues. “See, it’s totally possible to mind your own business.”

“How are you and Sungjin?” I hate to ask with Matthew right here, but I don’t think June realises the situation she’s in right now. “How did he take it?”

June scoffs and averts her gaze. “As well as you’d think. It’s so unfair you got involved like that,” she says. “You shouldn’t have been involved in it at all. I should have known what he was up to. Somehow stopped it. I should have just confronted him from the start.”

“That’s not your fault,” I reassure her, choosing to gloss over the fact she didn’t answer the question about Sungjin. “You had nothing to do with it. You couldn’t have known. Younghyun should have just…”

And then I’m angry again because I don’t even know anymore what Younghyun wanted to happen. Or not happen? I drop my hands to the table and stare at June. “He did it for you, you know. Younghyun. I think he’s also just afraid he’ll lose you. He misses you, I don’t even know how or why when you’re right here.”

“He did it for himself,” June answers, staring at her hands. “You’re supposed to hate him because of what he did. He’s such a hypocrite. He wanted to prove a point, he totally missed the one that mattered and let fly over his head.”

“That’s not to say he doesn’t care about you.” Matthew raises his hands in the air when June throws him an accusing glare. “It’s true. It doesn’t excuse what he did but I’m just saying that Toronto really does care about you. Both of you. And you,” he gestures at me. “He’s head over heels over you. Everyone knows that.”

“Well he should have said so himself,” I mutter darkly. I want to believe in it, and maybe a part of me already does, but I have to hear Younghyun say the words himself. At least make him do that much before I shed all my pride and just pretend nothing ever happened and we go back to the way we were before.

“I’m not even going to try and justify what he did because explanations of why he did what he did doesn’t vindicate him,” June adds, “Also I’m angry at him, so I’m not exactly feeling generous toward him right now. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, but the right thing was to just suck it up and have that difficult conversation no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it might be. With me. With you.”

“Easier said than done,” I muse out loud. Because I’m guilty, too. I should have just talked to Younghyun about whatever it was we were having. But I didn’t want to face it either. The tight ache in my chest is back.

I miss Younghyun so much.

“What’s the point of being someone’s best friend if you can’t talk to them?” June slumps forward and sighs.

She misses him, too.

Now all I can think of is: If June and Matthew are here with me, and Sungjin is off somewhere probably with Jae and Wonpil, then who is with Younghyun now? He wasn’t in Philosophy class this week, and at the time I felt more relieved than worried. It’s not usually cause for worry when an athlete misses class, but in retrospect I know now that Younghyun was avoiding me. Maybe giving me my space.

“Promise me you’ll make him suffer a bit,” June says, eyeing me dramatically from her position. “Before you take him back.”

It won’t take much, really. All Younghyun has to do is look at me with those eyes and I’ll forgive him. No matter how much it hurt to feel like he used me, I can’t deny what I feel about him. But I have to be strong.

“What makes you think I will?” I challenge. More for me than anyone else. There’s a lot to think about here than simply what I feel about him and how the world is like when I’m with him.

June just gives me a look that says Seriously?

“As if you’re any better,” I shoot back.

When June excuses herself for the restroom, I turn to give Matthew Kim a knowing stare. He deflects it best as he can, which is not a good effort at all because he just laughs pitifully at himself. “I didn’t even know that was a thing, Sunshine and Cap. It was all happening right under our noses, and nobody knew. I didn’t even think it was remotely possible.”

“Are you okay?’

He seems resigned to the fact that I know exactly what he’s going through. “Like I have a choice? A lesser man would take his chances now that they’re, well, I don’t know what they are, but I won’t do that to Sunshine. Or our team captain.”

“Wait, what?”

Matthew just shrugs. “So we find out they were sneaking around—I’ve never heard Sunshine yell before but she was so angry at Toronto and then she was angry at Sungjin and now they’re not okay either. I wanna say they broke up, but you have to be together to have broken up and I don’t think they were even that.”

My jaw just hangs open at the turn of events. “They what?”

“They’re not talking right now. It’s awful at the hockey house. And especially during practice. I mean we get things done but it’s not the same you know? At least the qualifier season’s almost over. We can all blow off some steam before the next playoffs for the championship.”

“I heard championships,” June says when she returns. “I don’t want to talk about that right now because there will be no championships until the team starts acting like a team again.”

“I’m happy to step away completely,” I offer. Maybe sacrificing myself will appease the hockey gods.

“I don’t want to be the one who brings this up,” Matthew says, looking like he’s about to give the worst news yet. “But Toronto’s birthday is coming up. What are we gonna do about that?”

June says nothing, but I know she’s conflicted. I am, too.

I don’t even want to think about it on top of everything else that I need to get done. School work, finals, the video project. Professor Han’s internship. I exhale a shaky breath. “I know.”

And I wish I didn’t.

Chapter Text

Jae, Wonpil, and Dowoon—surprise, surprise—corner me by the quad as soon as I’m done with my morning classes.

“We need an intervention,” Jae announces as soon as he sees me. “And you’re the only one who can save us.”

“I highly doubt that,” I tell him, intent on pushing past them and walking ahead. Yerin, Jimin, and Bambam are waiting for me at the cafeteria for lunch. I can’t backslide into involving myself yet again with the hockey team when I’ve already decided to move on and erase myself from their narrative. Once my video is done, that’s it. I’m officially done.

I can’t miss them more than I should.

“Please,” Wonpil begs, coming to my right side while Jae crowds me on the left. I say crowd even though they’re both staying an arm’s length away from me because they’re both attacking me with their sad faces. “It’s about Sunshine.”

With a sigh, I skid to a stop. “What now?”

“Sunshine doesn’t have a lot of friends who are girls,” Jae begins, “You’re a girl.”

“Thank you for noticing, but June and I aren’t…” Friends? Close friends? That kind of girlfriends? “What happened?”

“Little known fact outside certain circles maybe,” Jae begins, “but Sunshine has self-destructive streak and, uhm.”

I raise my palms in defeat. So much for trying to stay away from these people. “What did she do?”

“Well, for one thing, she hasn’t been attending practice, and according to her roommate Amber they’ve been going out and getting drunk every night and we’re worried about her.”

“What do you need me to do?” Not that I think I could dissuade June from doing what she wants. “And why aren’t you getting Sungjin to do something about it?”

Or Matthew, I want to say.

But I’m not at liberty to volunteer Matthew, am I?

Now that I think about it, I’m surprised Sungjin and Matthew haven’t done anything about June. Not that I don’t think June doesn’t know what she’s doing because she’s June. And knowing June…

“Also, you do realize that getting all up her business is the surefire way to lose her completely, right?”

“That’s what I said at first,” Wonpil explains, “but we’ve left her alone for long enough and we’re really worried. It’s finals. There are deadlines. And maybe, hopefully, she’ll listen to you?”

“I can’t believe I’m the one telling you this because you’ve known her longer, but June does what she wants. No one tells her what to do or what not to do. That’s not a thing you do to someone who’s in charge of managing the team.”

I also can’t believe I’m saying exactly what Younghyun says in defence of June.

And if they’re so concerned, why isn’t Younghyun doing anything about it himself when he’s made it his life’s mission to interfere in every aspect of his best friends life?

Ugh. I’m so mad at Younghyun.

How am I supposed to convince everyone else that I don’t want him when I can’t even convince myself?

Also, dammit.

June is my friend, whether or not the feeling is mutual.

“No promises,” I tell them. “But if I run into June, I’ll talk to her. Is that good enough for you?”

“Thank you,” Jae says, pressing his palms together. “Really. We super appreciate this.”

“Are you okay?” Wonpil asks, “Because we worry about you, too.”

I breathe out a laugh. “I’m good.” Because I have Jimin and Yerin and Bambam. “I’m trying, but failing, to get rid of the rest of you, though.”

“Sorry to drag you back,” Wonpil says, but he’s not really apologetic about it. “I know apologising for Toronto means nothing, but we’re sorry this is what’s happening to the team. It’s not your fault, we hope you know that.”

“Thank you,” I say, starting toward the cafeteria again. “For saying that. I just need to cool down for a bit because…”

“Because Toronto is Toronto,” Jae concludes.

The dread I felt about running into the team isn’t so much dread now as it is awkwardness. I’m still not looking forward to seeing Younghyun, but he’s been elusive and maybe that’s a good thing? My friends have kept me distracted enough when I’m not working on the video or studying, and we have the rest of the weekends planned ahead for Operation Get Over Younghyun as though we’ve convinced ourselves the best plan of action is to get over Younghyun.

“I’m sorry,” Wonpil says, and I’ve lost count of how many times he’s apologised. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better word for sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologising,” I sigh. “What you need to do is tell me what happened. Because right now, I’m not putting it past you guys to be planning something and I don’t like surprises, let me just put that out there in case you’re reporting back to a certain someone. I’d like my wishes to be respected through this difficult time.”

Jae and Wonpil exchange glances. They really choose now to think about what to say before saying it when they’ve been so careless about it in the past?

“We’re not planning anything,” Jae says.

“Yet,” Wonpil adds.

I knew it. “But you have thought about it.”

Wonpil has the sense to look guilty. “We might have considered it.”

“But we decided to just…communicate.” Jae gestures around us. “Because…that seems to be a deficiency the team needs to address.”

You think?

“You think you can do a special film screening of our video?” Jae asks. “Because we really need one of those we’re all in this together teamwork makes the dream work moments of realisation. We need to be reminded we are a team! And that we’re brothers on and off the ice? Because I swear the ice is gonna melt from all that hot blood.”

“Did you know about Cap and Manager?” Dowoon pipes up from behind us, “I had no idea. And then now they’re not talking and Manager’s disappeared and Cap’s…not good. Ah, Cap was really aggro this morning, I’ve never seen him check someone so hard on the team before. Did you know, he’s always the one saying we shouldn’t be checking our own teammates so much because top condition, you know? But this morning? Ouch. Ah…seriously…who knew BM could even get bodychecked like that? That was a full on charging offence and I’ve never been so scared of Cap before. He was like a bear. Or a tank. Or a bear tank. A tank bear? I seriously thought he was going to throw BM right over the board? I think Cap was even bleeding? That’s the scariest training day of my life, I’m thinking maybe now I regret joining the team.”

It’s worse than I thought.

***

It’s no accident when I run into Sungjin at the quad. At least he doesn’t try to avoid me or pretend he doesn’t see me. Finding June is nearly impossible so I settle for the team captain because apparently this is my job now, too.

Also, what the hell.

Sungjin is my friend, too.

Also, I need to know what’s going on. Even when I know this is going to bite me where it hurts, I have to know.

“You really need to get your huddle game on point because I can’t have your kids coming to me and asking for my input when I have absolutely nothing to do with the hockey team.”

Sungjin just smirks at me and shakes his head. He’s got his hood pulled over his head but even then I can see he’s got a bit of a bruise and a cut under his eye. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll talk to them.”

“I’m sorry.” The words are out before I can even think about it. “I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.”

“It’s Younghyun’s fault.”

“I shouldn’t have…I don’t know…”

“It’s not your fault,” Sungjin assures me, “I don’t know if it’s anyone’s fault. I’m as much to blame for this.”

I gesture toward the stone benches facing the sprawling lawn and we take our seats under one of the big trees. For a moment, Sungjin is quiet. I have nothing to say either, at least not one that counts as a valid icebreaker, so I wait for him to speak first.

“This is because of last year’s initiation,” Sungjin sighs, palming his face.

Finally we get to it. “What actually did happen at last year’s initiation?”

Sungjin stares out into the grey afternoon.

“Sorry,” I say, “I just…I overheard you and June talking about it a while back. And then, I guess, with all the things being mentioned, I kind of got the feeling that it’s got a lot to do with June being on the team and that night in particular. You don’t have to tell me—”

“We hooked up that night.”

I just stare blankly at the mass of students filing in from one building to another while Sungjin contemplates the words he just said. Everyone’s just going on with their lives as they’ve done everyday and here I am not quite sure how to process what I just heard.

“Uhm.” I try and fail at the words. “What?”

Sungjin just pulls out a bottle of water from his bag like he just didn’t drop a revelation the size of a universe. “June didn’t want to stay over at BM’s that night because, okay, Toronto wasn’t around and she didn’t really know the guys yet and it was weird, you know? I mean, sure she’s known BM since before and he and Long Beach are cool, but it wasn’t the same thing without Toronto. It’s always about Toronto. I told her she’d be fine, but of course if she says she’s not comfortable then I can’t force her. I’m not to convince her otherwise because that’s just a shitty thing to do. So I said I’ll walk her home and then one thing lead to another and then…well…You’d think the pain would be a deterrent because that’s what she said she was in a lot of pain from falling on the ice so many times. And when she fell, I fell, too. I was there. But, yeah, no. Stuff happened.”

I want to comment on the whole falling bit, but I keep my mouth shut.

I can’t wrap my brain around the revelation, but maybe it’s better if I just accept it and move on. “Sorry. Okay, full disclosure. I overheard you guys last initiation talking about how June is only staying because Younghyun’s around, and without him it’s not safe and that last year when it was just you I’m guessing it’s not safe when nothing happened? I’m confused.”

Sungjin refuses to make eye contact. He’s red all over and is just clutching at the back of his neck muttering under his breath something about his blood pressure.

“Yeah. That.” Sungjin stifles a grimace. “Because at the time we were, uh, trying to stop seeing each other behind everyone’s backs because I don’t know. Hockey, I think, was the excuse. And then, uhm, I think what we meant then was that she would be safe from me because then we wouldn’t be, uh, tempted to do…things. The first time, it got awkward the morning after and we agreed not to talk about it. That nothing happened. And then, well, after the summer we sort of got together again. She keeps saying that safe is really not the word I should be using when we’re being very safe and responsible but it really is the word that works here. Because…I don’t know. I want her to know she’s safe with me.”

I cover my eyes with my hands. “I’m sorry I asked. Please take it all back. I actually don’t want to hear any more of it. Why’d you…well…I want to say break up, but that’s not the word exactly is it?”

Sungjin lets out a little laugh. “Hockey is a terrible excuse. That’s what she said but it’s not an excuse. The time it takes to be good and stay good at hockey means you don’t have time for anything else. That’s not an excuse. That’s just the reality of the situation. But even when I say that, it’s not really me that’s walking out.”

“I can believe that.” Even with the limited information, it’s not so difficult to piece together that Sungjin wants more. He’s always been the one who wanted to go public. It must have been exhausting sneaking around their teammates and keeping his feelings a secret. Sungjin is too much of a live out loud kind of guy to be keeping things lowkey.

“You’re more than hockey and you know it,” Sungjin mutters softly to himself. “That’s what she always says to me when I lose sight of myself. I don’t think I’ve ever really found her anchor if she could still drift this far away from me.”

My thoughts drift to Younghyun and how he’s completely defined himself by how good he is at hockey and the meaning he’s put into his life because of the sport. “I’m sure you already know this, but June just needs time.”

“I’m worried about her. I mean, of course I’m worried about her.”

“Who isn’t, at this point?”

The lines around Sungjin’s eyes tighten. “I miss her.”

Captain Sungjin admitting to such a feeling is a huge deal, and I can’t help but feel a wave of friendship and camaraderie at the sad expression on his face. I never thought I’ll ever see someone like him look so miserable. 

“I’m so sorry,” I say, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Me, too.”

Chapter Text

The weeks approaching finals is a blur. You can imagine it as a montage of sequences of me slumped over my desk studying and working on the video set with the most dramatic, heartbreak-appropriate song you can think of. It’s both pathetic and sad and, okay, maybe one day in the future I can laugh about it but not today.

Today I am stuck on my video project because I have no idea what angle to take after all. I thought I knew, but the more I put the pieces together, I realize something’s still missing. At every playback the whole thing just feels even more flatter than before. Rationally, I know it has all the required beats and the whole thing builds into a cohesive narrative. But…

But I hate it.

But also maybe I don’t care anymore.

It’s just ten minutes. That’s more than enough to tell a compelling story if you know what you're doing and you’ve got a story to begin with. I know what I’m doing. But the story?

Sadly, the story is involved in a mess of feelings of wanting an internship, beating the shit out of a rival, helping out a team and school spirit, and getting over a certain someone you but is unfortunately in every other shot of the video.

I have something. I’m not totally empty-handed. But a sequence of events that tell a story, even with all my transcripts in, with all the story beats leading to a good place to end does not make a winning video. Because it’s not enough. It’s not going to place me above all the others. It’s empty, is what it is.

I mean I could fill it up with a couple scenes from the lockers, more of the boys chasing around a puck with a stick, slow dramatic zooms and pans of helmets being taken off revealing the player beneath. It may be fluff, but at least my video is going to be really pretty.

Ugh.

I give up.

“Uhm. Are you okay?” Yerin asks from across the room. This isn’t new to her, but perhaps I look worse than I think if my roommate decides it’s for the best to call it out and ask how I’m doing.

“I’m fine.”

If it wasn’t enough that I had to keep watching Younghyun’s happy face and his heartfelt interviews editing this video, I ran into him thrice this week apart from Philosophy class. The look on his face was absolutely shattering but I couldn’t just come to him and make it better for him when he’s the one at fault and I’ve every right to steam in anger. I can tell he wanted to talk to me, but I wasn’t ready to have that difficult conversation just yet.

What a hypocrite I am.

“If you say so,” Yerin relents. She puts her earphones down and turns away from her laptop. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be talking about,” I confess. We’ve had the conversation before. I told her and Jimin about Younghyun, about everything, about how I think I’m falling in love with him. Despite them being my best friends, I’ve never really talked to them about something this revealing. I’ve never felt so raw and exposed in this way.

“How’s your video going?”

“Not well. I mean…it’s there but also I guess it’s just not good enough to win anything.”

“And you have to win.” There’s an ambiguity in the way Yerin says this, and it strikes me open yet again.

Of course, I have to win.

But what’s the game again?

Every one of my victories is because I fought hard to win them, I ran as fast as I could to get to where I am—ahead of everyone else.

Because I had something to prove. 

“This is my chance,” I tell her. “Opportunities like this don’t come often. I’ve planned my entire college career around this.”

Yerin nods, acknowledging my point. “Honestly, I doubt you’ll ever run out of opportunities. Just that you keep choosing the ones that make life harder for you.”

“Because I’m a stubborn, stubborn person. And I have principles.”

Yerin looks confused. “I know you have a point there somewhere, but I don’t think making life hard for yourself is the principle you’re talking about.”

It is when people have the gall to tell me I have it easy. I drop my face into my palms. “Maybe it’s time to just quit.”

“Quit what?”

“This video. I hate it. It sucks. I suck.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s untrue. Look.” She pauses to take a breath. “Just go back to what the thing is about. The story. The heart of the thing. The point of the matter.”

It’s too late to be thinking about this right now with all the other thoughts in my head.

“Also maybe go to sleep,” she adds. “If it sucks now, it’ll still suck tomorrow. Your life isn’t totally ruined, you know. It’s not the end of the world. It’s only junior year.”

I follow Yerin’s advice and get to bed. As I lay there completely enveloped in my blanket, I pull up the mental drafts of my original script.

What I like best about what I do is that I get to tell stories.

Stories that mattered.

All my decisions have been tailored toward telling socially relevant stories because I wanted to make a difference.

When life threw a championship ice hockey team at me, I knew from the beginning that I would be lead to a place I did not want to go. This wasn’t the kind of story I knew how to tell, and not the kind of story I was used to being told. There is a heart to this team and a story that needs to be told. But where do I draw the line between a championship team and the need to make a difference?

What the fuck.

There’s a point to all this.

***

I wake up with an epiphany and spend the whole weekend reviewing my shots and my script and piecing together a narrative that I believe in. Despite myself, I go over Younghyun’s interviews again looking for something I might have missed, anything that adds depth to the story I want to tell. Something June said to Sungjin echoes in my head.

You’re more than hockey.

This team is more than hockey. I know this. I may not have known this coming in, but I know it now. There’s more to their story than meets the eyes, and so much of it is a rare privilege only given to those they welcome into their safe spaces. So I work on my video project, taking breaks only to eat and to re-caffeinate, and to take bathroom breaks.

Something Yerin said to me triggered a cascade of flashbacks I had not been able to go through and overanalyse following the great deal of annoyance and irritation I had felt when Younghyun had outright lied to my face about what he thought we were and what he wanted from me.

Looking back at the videos and piecing together one for the internship and another one for Younghyun enlightened me on a few things I can’t believe I missed out on the first couple of passes. In particular, I replay one of the later interviews I did of Younghyun after one of their losses. Despite the disappointment, the team hadn’t seemed totalled out.

Do you think this hurts your career? I had asked him, pointing the camera at him.

There’s no hint of irony or sarcasm in his voice or in his eyes when he answered. He just grinned like Younghyun just really loves the game and that’s all that mattered. Like he wasn’t out to prove to anyone that he’s better than anyone else. He just is.

I caught up with him along the corridor just before the lockers. Younghyun, in his uniform, white bandanna tied around his head, and his helmet and stick still in his hands. He smiled when he saw me, not the expression I expected because the last time he’d broken down completely.

Some people think I play because of my dad and because of my mom. Maybe at first that was true. They got me into the sport. They got me on the ice. Some people like to think I still do it now because I have something to prove. Maybe I do. But all I know is this: I love being on the ice. I love hockey. I like the guy I am when I’m on centre ice and I hear the ksh-ksh-ksh of everyone’s skates and the sound of the puck and the sticks on the ice.

I like winning, of course. But in the end I like me better when I’m with my team playing the sport we love. It was a good game. I can always play hockey. It’s not like I’ll never get to do that ever again.

Why here? I asked in one of the many interviews I did with him. It’s a long way from home.

This time we were at the home rink, one of the many mornings Younghyun came in before Sungjin did. He sat on a bench lacing up while I stayed standing at an angle from him.

Why not here? I thought If I really wanted to prove to myself that I can do it, then I might as well go all out. I guess the pressure over there made me forget why I started playing in the first place. There’s a lot of voices and a lot of debris. Over here it’s difficult, but at least I know I’m here because of the right reasons. It’s just me and hockey now. I guess I just did the thing I knew I had to do so I won’t end up hating myself in the future.

And just like that, Younghyun reminded me of what I’ve been missing all along. I forgot what I wanted to do. I wanted to win at all costs, but why again?

I work hard, sometimes unnecessarily, because I'm stubborn like that.

I don’t have to be, but I always felt like I had something to prove.

Maybe I don’t.

Maybe it’s time to just sit down and tell a story. Because in the end, that’s what it’s all about. Telling a story and doing it in a way I won’t hate myself for in the long run. When I’m done, I prepare my submission package.

And then I ask June to meet me off-campus.

***

The inevitable happens while I’m walking to Philosophy class. Even from the sidewalk it’s hard to miss Younghyun hanging around the columns surrounding the pergola and the pathway toward the main building. He’s hard to miss, after all. And even now I’m still so attuned to him, I can’t not see him even if I walked blindfolded. A pang crawls into my chest making my insides clench. All I want to do is go to him and pretend like nothing ever happened, but I can’t do that.

I want to just move on from all this, I know on some level I can. But I also can’t help but feel resentful.

Keeping my gaze straight ahead and away from where I will only end up getting his haze, I give more purpose to my strides and head to my next class. I won’t be bullied by my own feelings to skip this lecture. I won’t give Younghyun that satisfaction of having affected me in that way. 

When I turn into the hallway leading to our classroom, I get a whiff of Younghyun’s cologne and it hits me so hard I waver in my steps.

And then I hear him call out my name and it’s game over.

“Can we talk?” he says, softly.

I don’t turn to face him. Instead I just keep walking. Naturally, he walks alongside me, his long strides easily catching up to me. Younghyun in his official team jacket is a sight to behold, and I tell myself off for feeling a little weak in the knees. Underneath the letterman jacket is a maroon sweater and black jeans, and his jet-black hair is pushed back and off to the side. It’s just so unfair how handsome he is.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” he begins, “but I really have something to say.”

“Save it,” I tell him sharply. “Or better yet just drop it.”

“I just really want to apologise to you. For what I did. For what I said.”

I look ahead, a sinking feeling in my stomach when I realize this hallway is going to last a little more longer. I remember the walk being far shorter when Younghyun and I would walk here before. Is this what relativity is all about?

I try to regulate my breathing when Younghyun steps in front of me. It’s just unfair how good looking he is. I want to be angry and sad but all the feelings I tell myself I should be feeling are thrown out the window when Younghyun looks at me with those eyes—the look that’s a cross between sad puppy eyes and sultry come-hither eyes.

It’s all just so unfair.

“If you tell me to walk away now I will. But if there’s even one small chance—one tiny, infinitesimal chance—that you might forgive me please let me make it up to you. I really want to make it up to you.”

I walk past him. It’s a miracle I’m so composed. “What for?”

“Because I still really want you. I don’t want to want you but I can’t stop liking you.”

I scoff because I don’t want to, like, cry or something. My heart is thumping so hard and so fast. 

“I’m serious,” he calls out after me. “But if you tell me to stop I will. If you don’t ever want to see me again, just tell me and I’ll disappear from your life. One word is all I need.”

“Fine,” I tell him, looking at him from over my shoulder. “After class. We’ll talk.”

Younghyun smiles like the world is suddenly a better place. The cat-like grin is too much, and I know he knows what it does to me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Or maybe he should?

I don’t know anymore.

His smile curves into something almost sensual. “Thank you, I mean it. I’ll see you after class.”

I am so pucked.

Chapter Text

Despite my better sense—or maybe because of it—I let Younghyun take me out to dinner after class. The entire time we’re walking toward one of the nicer places near campus I mentally chant to myself to stay strong and not give in too soon. He deserves a chance to explain himself, but whether or not he is vindicated is still up for judgment. An explanation is not an apology. And I must be level-headed. Even just on principle.

An aside, I have this nagging feeling that I’m missing something. Something that’s not quite clicking into place and I can’t shake it off.

Younghyun is planning something.

Something good or bad, I can’t tell.

“If this is about your video—”

He cuts me off with a heart-stopping grin. “It’s not about that. Just forget about the video. Okay, it is partly about the video. Why did you send my parents that video?”

Just forget about the video, he says. As if I can just conveniently forget hours of footage of him on and off the ice just being so quintessentially Kang Younghyun. Everything about this fight is just so him, I’m annoyed. I’m annoyed because I want this fight. I wanted the fight then, I still want to have it now. But fighting is what couples do and Younghyun made it clear that he wasn’t ready for that.

Or anyway, fighting wasn’t what he wanted.

Apparently, he prefers to sulk by himself and pretend he’s alright in front of me.

I’m still fuming because Kang Younghyun is such an idiot.

Knowing me knowing Younghyun, there’s only one way this is going to end.

“Because I can,” I answer. “Because I have so much footage of you, it made me so angry all that is going to waste. So I made you your video and sent it to your parents. Now you know how it feels like to have people orchestrate things behind your back.”

Younghyun’s eyes shine with something I can’t place. “I haven’t seen the video, but my parents called me the other night. I’ve never—they’ve never been so—why did you do that?”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you think? Is this all you want to talk about? Because I—”

“I invited Sunshine and Sungjin too,” he says, sounding suddenly bashful for seemingly no accountable reason. “They don’t know I asked the other person to come. I know I can’t just ask for your help, but I need your help.”

I raise a brow at him.

A tinge of color blooms on the arches of his cheeks. He tucks his fists into the pockets of his jacket. “It’s for Sunshine and Sungjin.”

“And what exactly do you hope to accomplish by that?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice even if I tried. I didn’t even know they’re on speaking terms again, and I definitely did not expect he’d invite them tonight. Or that they would say yes? Because as far as I know, and this is information from Wonpil himself, June and Sungjin are still not on speaking terms.

“Yeah…kind of.” A puff of hot air from his mouth condenses in the cool air around us. “Also so, I guess, I don’t want you to feel like you’re being cornered or whatever. They’re on your side. They’ll…yeah. They’re there to back you up. At least they’ll get along when it comes to that.”

Something coalesces in my chest, a strange feeling that I hold in because laughing is not an appropriate response to this. “So you brought them along?”

He shrugs.

To prove he’s okay with June and Sungjin being together?

To let me know he’s attempting to right an extent of his wrongs?

To assure me that even now, he’ll be the one who will take the fall.

But my anger doesn’t completely fade just yet because, of course, I’m the last thing on his list. Not only that, but we even get an audience. It’s such a Younghyun thing to do. To cushion everything so the pain doesn’t hurt as much, but he’s missing the point.

I shove him with my shoulder. A full blown body check. Or it would be were I massive enough to make an impact, but I’ve got the element of surprise on my side. He winces, just the slightest, when I shove him further. It’s the kind of knee-jerk reaction he has when he’s injured, the kind of thing one only notices when one is used to watching him closely. He’s injured. One too many hits on the ice or the glass. I know I asked the hockey gods for this, but now that the reality is before me I feel a twinge of guilt. But only just a little bit.

“What was that for?” Younghyun gasps, clutching at his side.

“You’re so annoying!”

We’re in the middle of an empty side-street, the night setting upon us and minutes away from our destination. Younghyun opens his mouth but the words don’t come out. He stares disbelievingly at me, shocked as much as I am at what I just did. From the brief point of contact, his warmth spreads through me and the spot burns beneath my puffy coat and my knit jumper.

I miss him so much.

“I’m trying to make it up to you!” Younghyun huffs, his cheeks puffing up his face. “I’m trying to make this right. For everyone.”

Hockey gods, he’s so annoying.

I love him so much.

How the fuck am I going to convince him that I don’t want to want him when I can’t even convince myself?

“If you really want to make this right, then it’s best to just leave June and Sungjin alone. Your interfering is what got us into all this trouble in the first place. Instead of trying to make things happen, just let them happen.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for what I did. I don’t know how I can prove how sorry I am, but I’ll try.”

“For once in the entirety of you knowing me, can’t you just be honest for once?” The words feel like thorns in my throat.

“I never lied to you!”

I resist the urge to shove him again just so I have an excuse to touch him again. “You never told me whole truths either! You always kept me at a distance no matter how close I wanted to get. It was never about Sungjin and June, was it? They were a convenient excuse, too, weren’t they? At some point it stopped being about them until it was convenient again.”

Younghyun runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the perfectly tousled way it was, making him look unintentionally disheveled. “I didn’t want to put the weight of my world on your shoulders,” he breathes. In his eyes is a pain I’ve never seen before. A struggle he had done so well to hide even from me. “There is so much in my life that I can’t keep up with, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

I can’t believe I’m actually hearing the words. That he thinks I’ll dump him just because, as will all things worth shit in this universe, a relationship with him won’t always be easy. “That is such a bullshit excuse.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your life! I don’t want to ruin your life.”

“That’s your cover story? You’re using my words against me?”

“It’s not a cover,” he says pleadingly, “And you were right about me. I kept my distance because I needed to figure out what I’m doing with my life. You have everything planned out. You know exactly who you want to be and you’re halfway there. You’re leaps and bounds above me, I have to catch up and keep up somehow. But I couldn’t stay away from you.”

What I learned about love is this. “Younghyun, even when we’re together it doesn’t mean the lines between our lives are so blurred we can’t tell ourselves apart. The whole idea of being together is wanting to be together despite what else happens around us. My life is my life, and yours is yours. What you are now, I’ll accept it. And you are wonderful. This is my life, and I hope you’re okay with that too. It’s not a competition or a burden to bear. All I ask is that you trust me to be there for you no matter what happens. Win or lose, good or bad, I want to be the first one to tell you that you did well. I want to be with you even when you’re being an annoying jerkass because I love you, you stupid ass.”

The words come out of my mouth without prior composition, my confession tumbling out in one big breath. My heart feels like it’s about to burst from my chest. I just want to run into his arms and hold him tight. I want to kiss him. I want so much, I won’t even know where to begin.

Younghyun just stares blankly at me, shocked as I am at what I just said. It’s too late to take it back, but I don’t want to. These feelings have suffocated me for so long, I can’t hold them back anymore. I can’t operate like this, holding back is not my style.

“Did you just call me a stupid ass?”

“Yes,” I answer calmly. I think the calm is only because I have nothing left to feel. “I did.”

Younghyun spreads his arms as if to say this is it, this is all I am. “I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t sound so apologetic about it.”

A smile quirks his lips. “I’ve been in love with you the moment I fucked up and said I’ll get you Sungjin. I knew then I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t. Even as I spent all night writing that business proposal, all I could think about is how it would be so much better if it were me instead of him. But I didn’t want to want you because once I go in, I go all in. I won’t be able to stop and I won’t be able to break free. And there’s so much I want to do and there’s so much you have to do, and it scared the shit out of me. I projected my own fears and insecurities on you, and made some presumptions that I probably shouldn’t—” He takes a deep breath. “I fucked up.”

The heartfelt words unleash a flood of warmth inside me, but despite that, I can’t help but gaze at him with an odd sense of distance. “Yeah. You did.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally. “I’m sorry I couldn’t just support you the way you supported me. That instead of thinking I can be there for you, I let the my fears about my future take over. I’m so afraid I’ll be miserable and end up hating myself, and that you’ll feel the same if you decide to be with me knowing I can’t let you go so easily.” He trails off.

“Younghyun, we have time to figure this out,” I remind him. “We have so much time. We don’t have to live each other’s live. I just want you in mine. For as long as this is going to work.”

“I want it to work so much.”

And I want it, too. I want to imagine a future with him even though it scares me. I want to think about the time when I can come home to him when the days are hard, of the days I know I’ll still want to come home to him even when he’s being difficult and annoying.

“Let me try,” he says, taking a careful step toward me. “Let me win you back.”

I scoff. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back.”

I roll my eyes. “And how exactly do you intend to do that?”

“I…” Younghyun clamps his mouth shut like he just caught himself about to say something he didn’t think was appropriate, but the look in his eyes reveal it’s less offensive and just…ridiculous. The words tumble out of his mouth anyway. “I wrote a…a business proposal.”

“You wrote a business proposal.”

He blinks. “More or less. Should I send it to you?”

“Maybe we can start with trying better at this?”

Younghyun nods. “I wanted everyone to tell me we’re a terrible match. But Sunshine and Sungjin, they wouldn’t. I was literally telling them it’s the worst thing ever, but Sungjin slammed me into the plexi and he’s never done that before. Not really.” He reaches over to his shoulder to rub at a sore spot.

“Funny, no one ever thought to say that to me.”

Not even Yerin or Jimin. All I heard from them was to be sure I wouldn’t regret Younghyun. To not just let time pass without doing anything. To not even attempt because what if.

What if it’s terrible?

But also,

What if it’s the best thing ever?

Younghyun drops his hand and takes another step forward. Hesitates. Visibly swallows. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Trust me, you’ll have many chances to do that.”

“I’m so sorry I was so afraid.” Gingerly, he reaches out to touch my face. “I’m afraid right now, but I’m trying so hard not to be. I don’t want you to hate me and I don’t want to hate myself.”

“I’m scared, too,” I confess. “But I’ll be with you. That can’t be so bad.”

Younghyun exhales shakily. “I really like you.” A crack wobbles his voice. “I like you so much. I love you.”

I laugh. “That’s good. I love you, too.”

“Even when I’m being a stupid ass? I’ll probably do it again. I know you already said but—”

“Even then, too.”

“I promise I’ll make it right when that happens. Because I can’t promise that it won’t happen. I just…I just want to be with you.”

My smile widens. “As long as you promise to let me make it up to you when I’m the one acting like I’m angry all the time and that I always have something to prove when I don’t.”

“You have nothing to prove.”

I ease up on my tiptoes and kiss the corner of his jaw. “See? You’re doing it already. Don’t worry, I think you got this romantic gesture thing down well. You’re ridiculously talented it’s unfair. Try not to screw up again. At least not so much? I’m ninety percent sure you’ll be able to win me back but let’s not make it a habit.”

“Only ninety percent?” He has the audacity to pout.

“I’m saving the ten percent for the really bad things. If we fight, then we fight. We can work through this. We’re going to have to. That’s just what people do and I’m willing to go through that. Just trust me to be there for you. The ten percent is more like a 0.1 percent chance you screw up so badly there’s no other way to go.”

His eyes twinkle. “I’ll be too afraid to mess up that badly. I promise I’ll work on this as hard as I work on hockey.”

I laugh. “Are you going to kiss me now, or are you still apologizing?”

“Depends. Will you let me do that now? Am I forgiven? Are you my girlfriend now?”

“Oh, I see. We’re going there.” I cup the back of his head and yank his mouth down on mine.

The kiss is…movie magic. It’s always movie magic when we’re together.

“I love you, Younghyun,” I murmur into his lips.

His laughter warms my face. Then he brushes his mouth over mine and whispers, “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Younghyun is waiting for me outside of Professor Han’s office. Part of his self-imposed penance is to be the best boyfriend he can possibly be which we’ve had to negotiate on because sometimes he is Too Much. He really does want to be the best at everything. He might not say so, and most people might attribute his skill to innate talent, but I know him for what he is. I see him as much as sees me.

“How’d it go?” My hockey boyfriend leans down for a kiss when he sees me. Chaste. Cute.

The final meeting of the semester didn’t take as long as I expected. Neither was it as glum or anywhere near as eventful as I thought it would be. It was…pleasant even. You know you did the right thing when all you can feel is relief. Professor Han didn’t say much in the way of pushing her own agenda, letting me do my own thing the way I do it. I will be eternally grateful for her guidance and mentorship. And to think, she is now officially my senior adviser.

But first: the biggest weight on my shoulders has finally been lifted.

“Weirdly,” I answer, shaking my head as if to get rid of the weirdness that still lingers after the fact.

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“I don’t know yet,” I confess. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

“Is that okay?” Younghyun asks, “Not knowing for sure?”

My video clocked in a little below ten minutes. Something about the sport being a full contact sport, but not just in the way of physicality. I’m so used to telling a story that pulls people into action, I forgot the most basic principle of what I do. I’ve always loved stories that moved me, stories with beating hearts that grow a sentience of their own. I’ve forgotten that sometimes a story’s worth isn’t about the perceived depth of the subject but about what it changes in the few moments a reader or a viewer is subjected to it.

This one, this story is simply out there to remind people of what it means to have found a family in strangers, of friendship, and maybe even of love. It’s all about the team, their potential, the heart they gave to the game, and the achievements that are despite the odds stacked against them. It’s a little dramatic, maybe a little cheesy, maybe I managed to reference a little Hollywood, a little of We Will Rock You, a bit of We Are The Champions, but I love it. All of it.

“It’s okay,” I say and mean it.

“Do you think you’ll win?”

That’s the question, isn’t it.

My answer has to wait when Oliver enters the narrow corridor for his meeting with Professor Han. I know he’s already submitted his video and his application package earlier than the rest of us because he’s just like that. I used to be that person too, but I figured I can afford to take it slow sometimes.

I’ve been running so fast toward this goal, I’ve forgotten why I was running in the first place.

“Is it true?” Oliver asks, eyeing me curiously. He glances at Younghyun. He’s trying not to, but it’s so obvious.

“Is what true?”

“That you sold out.” Oliver tips his chin up just a little bit. Just a little bit of gloating he can’t seem to stop himself from doing. He’s psyching me out, and he thinks it’s working.

Never change, Oliver Kim.

“I guess we’ll find out when the videos are released.” I really can’t be bothered by it right now. I’m kind of on a schedule. One I can’t just easily rearrange.

“I guess you really wanted this internship. You’re reeking of desperation. You really want to be validated that much? That much you sacrificed your principles?”

I cut a glance at Younghyun just to check if he’s calm. Surprisingly, my hockey boyfriend is trying his best not to laugh out loud. He’s leaned back agains the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

I love him so much.

“What makes you so desperate for it, Oliver? Because I want it? What if I told you maybe I don’t want it that badly after all?”

This takes him aback but he recovers with a scoff. “You think you’re always gonna win? What will you be without your daddy’s money and his fame?”

Oh, so we’re going there?

“I’d still be me,” I shoot back. “I’d still have worked my as off. But you know what? I’m glad you brought it up. At least I know even if I don’t win this thing, I’d still get to do what I said I’ll do. Because I guess my principles don’t revolve around suffering just to make a point.”

Really, everyone wins here.

Or maybe not everyone.

Red splotches creep up Oliver’s face. “You think you can manipulate the board with your money and your connections?”

“You can keep coming at me because you think I don’t qualify for anything because of who my father is, and you’re welcome to keep trying to kick me out. Good gods, Oliver. If you want this so much then maybe you should create something that’s actually good? Because this level of desperation makes me think you’ve totally botched this assignment. So good luck, I guess.”

Oliver doesn’t say anything.

I think I broke him.

Oh, well.

“Anyway,” I continue. “There’s that big competition next spring so I guess I’ll see you there?”

I take Youngyhun’s hand and lead him out of the hall, out the building, and into the quad. He’s staring at me with a silly grin on his face.

“What is it?”

Younghyun sighs. “I’m so in love with you right now.”

I laugh. “Thanks for not stepping in.”

This time, he laughs. “You had everything under control. You didn’t need me there anyway. Besides, it’s so good seeing that guy get a beating down. He deserves it. What a prick.”

“He’ll get what he deserves.”

“Did you mean that, though?” he asks softly. “The part where you said maybe you don’t want to win as much? This internship means so much to you.”

I know why he’d be so worried. I’ve worked so hard and arranged my entire life for this internship, and then suddenly this? “I said what I said. Even if I don’t get the internship in the long run, what matters is that I get to do what I want to do. I think about what you said, that you feel like you’re stealing someone else’s chances at a thing because of who the world thinks you are and I get that. But also I’ve begun to think that maybe in the end, it’s not how I get to help people or communicate what I want to say. Maybe it’s that I do it anyway. Because I can still keep doing it. Maybe if I embrace who I am, the privilege I have, I can make it so that I’m making a difference anyway. That if I see the whole being related to my dad as a perk than a burden, I might be able to more. That the things I get to do, I can help someone else do too? Doing something matters to me. Not the titles or the awards that go with it. Does that make sense?”

“I think so?” Because he’s staying another year. Because he’s deciding to stay in school. Graduate first. We don’t have to decide everything right now even when sometimes it feels like it.

“I don’t always have to make it so hard on myself,” I continue. “The results will be the same anyway. It’s not a race, remember? It’s a marathon. If I keep running this fast, I’m afraid I’ll hate myself for it. But if I take it slow, if I always remember to take time to do things for myself, then I’ll always know for sure that I’m doing well.”

He smiles, recognising the words he’d once said in the many videos we’d taken. Tiny butterflies of happiness take flight in my stomach and dance around my heart. I take his hand again and lace our fingers together.

“Sometimes we have to do things for ourselves so we don’t hate ourselves.”

Younghyun falls into me. The way he’s holding me feels different. Like I’ll disappear? Like I’ll vanish? He holds me up, taking all the weight of the world and lifting me in his arms. Yet it feels like I'm the one carrying the weight of his world. That he needs me more than I need him.

“You’re gonna be late to your own birthday party,” I tell him, wiggling my feet so he puts me down.

“Am I not allowed to be fashionably late to my own birthday?”

The rest of the team and my friends are already at Papa Tuan’s which is closed for the night just for us. June and I went through the preparations together, delegating tasks and hoping Jae and Wonpil don’t make a mess before the big day. The party also doubles as a mini-celebration for the season, something to remind them that they did well and that they will always have the support they need when the next series comes along.

“If we don’t go now, you’re not going to get any of the cake. You know this.”

Younghyun finally puts me down and we hurry to Papa Tuan’s where he’s greeted with confetti and paper horns to his face. I lose Younghyun to Jae and Wonpil where he’s  instantly drowned in his teammates so he can say hi to everyone. I find June at the end of the room and join her at the corner table.

“I still can’t believe you made a scene in the middle of the Engineering quad. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really just…barged in there, didn’t you? You just…started yelling…I didn’t even know you could yell.”

June just rolls her eyes. “You really should have made Toronto suffer more,” she says to me, passing me a basket of fries. “Now I have to live with him being so annoyingly happy all the time.”

I pretend to look offended and clutch my chest. “Says the person who forgave him too quickly. I thought you said to make him suffer a little bit more.”

“He’s very annoying,” she points out, “He kept saying sorry with those teary, puppy eyes. He won’t leave me alone. I had to save myself somehow.”

When I asked, Sungjin just sighed and shook his head. No one can stay mad at Younghyun, so it seems. Especially not June. When he came with his big apology, no one was safe. And besides, it wasn’t as if we were all planning on never forgiving him. I doubt June can stay mad at all. I mean, what she did with Sungjin? That’s one for the ages.

“So we’re doing the ski resort thing,” June says, pulling up the details on her phone and showing it to me. “You’re invited. If you want to. It’s tradition. Before the Important Games. Team building and stuff, but mostly, you know, it’s just a bunch of mostly unsupervised jocks rolling in the snow.”

I don’t even need to think about it. “I’m definitely in. Count me in.”

When the entire pub quiets down, I know exactly what’s going on. The video I made for Younghyun is projected on one of the walls. Everyone is silent, watching Kang Younghyun in all his glory. His wins, his losses, his smiles, and his tears. In every frame, one thing is certain. He’s never been alone and he will never be.

Younghyun, you’re doing well.

Younghyun finds me at the end of the video, tears brimming in his lovely eyes. He scoops me up in his arms and holds me tight.

“Yeah, that’s the video I sent it to you parents,” I whisper. “They know they don’t have to worry about you. They’re so proud of you. And I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he whispers in my ear.

His kiss engulfs me before I can say anything else. 

These days, I’ve never been so excited to look forward. The future is still uncertain, and maybe all my plans will fall apart, but I know for sure I won’t have any regrets.