Chapter Text
Hwanwoong is perhaps the biggest scam people have ever met.
That's not to say he’s full of malice or that his intentions are morally bent into the evil-side-of-society, bad person category. He’s a nice person to those he’s friends with and someone who clearly loves everything he does with his entire heart.
His face is pretty, the way he dances gracefully is beautiful, the way he acts on stage is bedazzling and spectacular. He was built for the stage—built for the pressures of the lights and the eyes on his back. He was born for it.
But that stage presence is all he had going for him—in terms of dating, anyway. His blunt and clumsy personality catches everyone who asks him out in surprise. His indifferent demeanor and his timid nature outside of student council show out more off-stage, when he’s forced to play himself instead of some character in a story or the role of president.
“That’s why people dump you all the time, Woong.” Wheein, one of his seniors, says to him one day. “Maybe if you acted the way you did when you’re preparing for a role—like, all passionate and shit? Like you actually care—then maybe you wouldn’t be dumped.”
Laughs are shared at the sentiment. Hwanwoong even laughs too—bitterness gone and replaced with mirth. And it’s true and pure; Hwanwoong doesn’t get attached or bitterly placed in love by the time he gets dumped. He expects it, even—despite how sad that sounds. He digresses, however, when he immediately notices that people can’t take the sudden subversion of their expectations.
People might’ve seen his pretty face and his capabilities, but the only things who saw his true reflection were the mirrors of his bedroom.
“I do actually care, y’know. They just… have some bullshit expectations they expect me to meet.” He playfully shoved at Wheein who guffaws at the action in response. She ruffles his hair in retaliation—claw-like grip squired—while he tries to shake her hand away from his scalp.
“Doesn’t help that you’re the StuCo pres. either.” Seoho chimed, going back to lick at his lollipop. “I don’t see why you’re complaining about your reputation when literally you’re the student body president and head actor, Woong.”
Geonhak goes to flick Seoho as a reprimand and Hwanwoong laughs once more. “Sorry, Woong. He didn’t mean it,” Geonhak continues to struggle with holding back Seoho’s petty advances at getting revenge. “But honestly, I think you should just turn them down, Woong. Don’t break their hearts like that-“
Seoho kicks Geonhak’s shins and the two start a small chase.
“He’s right, you know.” Wheein eyes him again. “In your case, there’s a… what’s that landmark in America? That big hole in the ground.”
“What? The grand canyon?”
“Yeah!” Wheein says excitedly. “That thing!”
“There’s a grand-canyon-size gap between your personality and your appearance, Woong.” Wheein says, matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“Yeah, for example…” Wheein taps her finger on her chin in thought. “When you’re up on stage and commanding it, you look beautiful and passionate.”
Wheein nods to herself, affirming her words. “Or, when you’re giving speeches about new programs you’re putting out, you genuinely look excited. People find that cute, y’know?”
Hwanwoong only laughs at Geonhak and Seoho from across the room in an effort to ignore his senior friend. She sighs in response, giving up.
Another student in his class—the class representative, who Hwanwoong nominated in his stead because of his blaring unavailability—named Suhwa comes up to him, holding the attendance paper. “President Hwanwoong, have you gotten word from Kim Youngjo by any chance?”
Hwanwoong turns to her. “Ah, no. Is he not in class?”
“Apparently the next class over says he’s missing today, and they wanted me to ask you if you caught word of his absence,” His head tilts and Suhwa bows in apology. “Sorry for bothering you, president.”
“It’s no bother at all.” He waves off her worries with a smile and calm gestures. “He may be sick, so make sure to tell that class’ representative to contact him and confirm his condition.”
“Yes, president.” Suhwa leaves the class just after, and Seoho quietly scampers up behind him; apparently overhearing the conversation.
“Isn’t he in classical theatre, Woong?” Seoho asks—a grumbling Geonhak trailing behind him. “And didn’t you date him once, Wheein?”
Wheein merely nods.
“Yeah, he is,” Hwanwoong confirms. “One of the new recruits. I wasn’t the one who conducted his audition but I heard he’s good. Skips a lot, I think.” He shakes his head in disappointment.
Geonhak hums. “That’s odd.” He mumbles. No one really hears.
“He’s a nice kid, though. I can tell you that.” Wheein smiles fondly at nothing. “He’s like, the perfect boyfriend.” She jabs her finger into Hwanwoong’s side. “That’s why he kinda has an excuse—unlike you, brat.”
Hwanwoong sticks out his tongue at her in retaliation. “What, so his excuse is being hot and attractive? ” Hwanwoong says with a mocking tone. Seoho howls in laughter while Geonhak looks sorry for the guy.
“No… okay look. If you ask him out first, he’ll say yes. And for a whole week—“ Wheein ignores the questioning stares and raised eyebrows. “—he treats you like you’re the best person in the world. Wake you up in the morning, cooks for you, studies with you—he does all of it! I promise you!”
“Then?”
“Then, at the end of the week, he’ll tell you to break up with him; that he just couldn’t fall in love with you. And all the magic is gone the next day—as if nothing ever happened.”
“What the fuck- “ Geonhak exclaims briefly. Hwanwoong stays quiet in contemplation.
“So people are going to this dude basically hoping he says ‘I love you’ back to them at the end of the week? This man is a whole quest for people to beat?” Seoho asks with incredulity.
“Were you sad when you got dumped?” Hwanwoong asks tentatively. “If it was all this magic then-“
“I don’t know, but I don’t really think so.” Wheein shrugs. “I wasn’t angry or anything, and I guess it was okay, since that week was kind of the thing that led Hyejin to finally tell me what she felt… so I never minded.”
“Huh.”
Their free period time fizzles out and the lunch bell sounds out with some false fervor that excites all the students.
“What are you guys feeling today?” Seoho asks, tentatively. “I can like order pizza and have it delivered. Or we can get stuff from the vending machines. The snack bar is open too, if you guys want anything.”
“I’m down for vending machine stuff.” Hwanwoong responds, his next sentence tentative. “I can’t join you for extended lunch today, though. Got some paperwork to do and a meeting to start.”
“I can’t join either! Sorry kiddos,” Wheein smiles apologetically. Seoho fake sobs and receives a flick from Wheein while Geonhak ensures her it’s fine. “Hyejin wants to get lunch together today.”
The other three watch as Wheein quickly says goodbye and books it to the third floor classrooms where Hyejin is. As they turned their heads back to look at each other, they knew exactly what to do.
Turns out, throwing out rock against two people who consistently play paper the first go round of rock paper scissors is a bad idea, no matter how many times you’ve noticed that pattern before.
His pure instinct chose rock and by the time Hwanwoong processed his loss, change was already being shoved in his hand. He wasn’t even allowed a rematch before he was being shoved out the room and down the hallway to the outer area where the vending machines are.
Sighing, he pushes Seoho and Geonhak’s change into the machine and presses the buttons for their usual snacks. At least it isn’t my money, he reasons to no one in particular.
The last of his own snacks comes falling down the front of the machine, but it accidentally gets caught in the middle of its fall. Hwanwoong eyes it tiredly—too caught up in whatever he has to go over and take care in the weekly student council meeting. He taps the machine weakly, almost hoping that the snack would fall with some minimal amount of effort, but it’s stubborn.
“Are you okay, President Hwanwoong?” A hesitant voice asks from behind. Hwanwoong stands upright, almost ashamed, as he straightens the tie of his uniform and turns to face the student.
To his surprise, he’s greeted by the… exceedingly pretty face of Kim Youngjo; wearing his school uniform just so that it fits nicely around his build and coming directly from the side entrance gate. He knows he’s seen his face before, but it didn’t mean it didn’t startle him. After all, the man really did look like some character in a movie or comic book. This fiasco of a thought train didn’t even include the voice, which could easily knock Hwanwoong down several pegs in terms of shaky knees and stammering sentences.
Nonetheless, he digresses and focuses on Youngjo’s eyes. The eyes in front of him peer kindly into his own, full of quiet concern. Hwanwoong almost forgets to nod.
“Yes, I’m quite alright. One of my snacks got stuck in the machine, is all.” Hwanwoong smiled sheepishly and threw a thumb at the machine. “See?”
Youngjo hums in thought, hands resting casually in his pockets. He resolves to kick the machine lightly at the side, which made Hwanwoong jump—almost out of his own skin.
Seeing his collateral damage, Youngjo smiles comfortingly. “Sorry. Did I scare you?” A hand goes to steady Hwanwoong as he hums in affirmation. The snack ends up falling down almost immediately. Hwanwoong let out a sigh of relief.
“When people say you’re the perfect boyfriend, I didn’t expect it to be true.” Hwanwoong ends up blurting out. His mind is running circles and his nerves are short-circuiting, but he can’t do anything but freeze, fizzle, and burn out. He hoped Youngjo would take it as a passing comment as he collected the snack from the machine.
Confused, Youngjo furrows his eyebrows and eyes a distressed-looking Hwanwoong (he’s sure that’s what he looks like, but he tries to cover it with a smile anyway) with his mouth forming a straight line. Fuck.
“A-ah, I’m sorry, it’s none of my-“
“So they say that about me, huh?”
Hwanwoong is more than caught-off-guard. He stops in the middle of scratching his neck. He flaps his mouth like a fish in water and he can’t help but feel like putting his head in a fishbowl and possibly drowning.
“Um.. yes?”
“Hm.”
And while Hwanwoong is left thinking what the hell does that mean????? Youngjo only smiles kindly again, and asks— “Don’t you have to go eat your snacks, president? Lunch period is almost over.”
Shattered out of his thoughts, Hwanwoong simply nods. “Yes! Yes, thank you.” He goes and collects the saved snack from the vending machine.
“I’m sorry—I must go first. My friends are waiting for their snacks and I have a meeting to get to,“ Why the hell am I telling this to him- “so please excuse me!”
And with that, Hwanwoong leaves Youngjo alone in the side courtyard of the school campus; missing a small giggle and an interested stare.
Rushing up the steps, he runs into the classroom and places snacks of Geonhak and Seoho’s desks.
“Woong, what the hell, what took you so lo-“
And yet, glancing at the clock, it seems time has slipped away, away, and away again—and his weekly meeting was much too soon for any idle chatter or explanation. “Sorry, Seoseo! Hakkie! I have to go, I’ll talk to you later. Promise!”
While Seoho stares at the increasingly miniature figure of Hwanwoong disappearing around the corner, Geonhak gets back from the restroom and furrows his eyebrows at Hwanwoong—eventually leaving it for later and pushing Seoho back inside to eat lunch.
Hwanwoong pushes the door of the student council room open and starts going over the overview of the meeting. The meeting was packed into less than an hour, and they had so much to discuss that Hwanwoong thought to call an extra meeting after school if time really called for it.
He sat at the front of the room, flipping through notes of past meetings and writing separate topics of discussion on a sticky note while the rest of the members filed into the room. The first people to trail in were Keonhee and Dongju, the Vice President and Sophomore Secretary. These two were quite often together, to the bewilderment of Hwanwoong, and talked about a range of topics—of which included the two boys he was personally friends with. Hwanwoong found them warm and inviting, and he had no problem conversing and joking harmlessly with them.
The rest of the grade secretaries filed into the room at once; which is, coincidentally, when Hwanwoong was able to finish about half of the paperwork he received from the principal. They formed another subsection within the student council, along with the grade officers. They were a rambunctious bunch, but they got their job done and kept to their promises, and that’s all Hwanwoong really cared for.
Finally, the executive secretary closed the door and the meeting started—bleeding into the next hour by a few minutes. Hwanwoong called for an extra meeting after school, just like he expected, and he adjourned the meeting with a polite smile and thank you—sighing in exhaustion as he stalked off to his next class.
He spotted Youngjo in the hallway and was about to wave when a girl from his class—Chaejun?—goes to grab Youngjo’s hand. Youngjo turns to her, a practiced smile on his face. Hwanwoong feels like an intruder for noticing the subtle exchange, but something pulls him to stick in his spot and watch indefinitely.
They converse for a small bit before the girl gets surprised that the bell rings. Hwanwoong takes that chance to walk into class just as everyone else settles down from last period, and Youngjo is gone; a disappearing ghost of some kind.
An uneventful day is all Hwanwoong needed to get through the tired ache he feels in his arms and legs. He uses the last of his energy on walking—all prim and proper—to the student council room after the last bell. Cleaning duties have always been excused for the president, who—of course—has to run the whole school alongside the director. But of course, Hwanwoong still cleans from time to time, especially when he doesn’t have a meeting.
Unfortunately, today is not one of those days. Unfortunately, he put it on himself to call for an extra meeting. And, somewhat unfortunately, Youngjo is still there at the end of the day, waiting in front of the gates; kneeling down before one of the flower patches.
“You’re still here?” Hwanwoong asks, coming up behind Youngjo as he waits there for something arbitrary. He gazes at the flowers beside him before
processing that Hwanwoong was actually right there, and he nods.
“Waiting for someone to pick me up,” He says simply. “I live kinda far.” He goes back to looking at the flowers. He looks quite serene.
“You don’t take the train?”
Youngjo shook his head. “I usually do, but today someone wanted to pick me up.”
A silence wedged itself between the pair before Youngjo spoke again.
“Are you going home now, President?”
Hwanwoong hums affirmatively. “Duties just finished, but I have to send everyone home first.”
Youngjo tilts his head and Hwanwoong clarifies with an embarrassed hand scratching his neck. “There’s still some stragglers inside, though.” Youngjo doesn’t answer verbally, only nodding in understanding.
Actually… I’m curious… What if…
“Hey, Youngjo.” Hwanwoong calls after a bit of silence. By then, a few people have already left the building and Hwanwoong is only waiting on the final two people. “Have you been asked out yet today?”
“What?”
“It’s Monday, right?” Hwanwoong stares at the trees surrounding the school in thick layers. “Have you been asked out yet today?”
No! What the hell are you asking??????
“Well, almost but no—the bell rang before the girl could take me anywh-“
“Why not go out with me?”
What the fuck did you just say? Hwanwoong had to do a double take on himself, because seriously, what the fuck did you just say?
Youngjo’s shock was definitely apparent. And rightfully so, to be honest. If someone asked Hwanwoong out specifically and they literally have been in his life for approximately five minutes (give or take) and the first time you truly ever interacted was through stuck snacks in a vending machine , he would be shocked too. He would have no way to ever conceal his initial shock--not even if he had the best resting face in the entire world.
“Wh-“ Hwanwoong doesn’t look at Youngjo for a single moment. He simply stares straight ahead—looking at the trees surrounding the school. Oh, how amazing it would be to bury myself in the ground and die. Maybe I should catch the nearest train and fling myself right in front of it. Or I could go to the sea and walk until the fishes swallow me whole. That would be nice right abo-
“What?” Youngjo managed to finish—aside from his initial shock, of course. That’s certainly a reaction. Hwanwoong shrugged.
“They said you’re fine with anyone as long as they confess to you, even if they’re not your type.” Hwanwoong toys with the straps of his backpack while looking at the forest. “So how about it? Why not, right?”
You’re fucked. There’s no getting out of this one.
“I mean… sure but-“
Hwanwoong looks at Youngjo, finally, and tilts his head in question. “What?”
“I-I just…” Youngjo ran a hand through his hair; either nervous or caught off guard. Hwanwoong thought it to be the second one; it was more likely anyway and he did just ask a somewhat shocking question since a) he didn’t know if Youngjo was straight or not and b) who the hell asks that to someone they’ve just interacted with? Youngjo pulled a face for a short while--one not full of his normal demeanor and bored stare. “I didn’t know you…”
“Swung that way?” Hwanwoong finished for him while Youngjo nodded. “I honestly don’t care who I date, as long as they’re cool with how I am… I don't think I should be picky.” He shrugs. There was truly no way to back out of this now. Sure, he could pass it off as a joke, but who the fuck jokes with a tone as serious as he asked that question? It was hopeless.
Suddenly, the last two—as expected, were Keonhee and Dongju—finally walked out the gates of the school. They chatted lazily and said their goodbyes excitedly--providing such a contrast that even Youngjo was the slightest bit surprised. Hwanwoong, already used to their behavior, simply locked up the gates to the student entrance of the school and pocketed the key. Hwanwoong was about to leave--wanting to save himself from even further complications--when Youngjo suddenly asked a question.
“Can I have your contact info?” Hwanwoong turns around and looks at Youngjo with a fleeting shock until his eyebrows are able to calm down. He can’t be serious.
“Sure.” Hwanwoong fishes out his phone and gives it to Youngjo, who stares at the various stickers on the back of the phone while Hwanwoong pulls up a contact screen.
If Youngjo muttered a quick cute , Hwanwoong definitely didn't pretend not to hear it.
“Oh, by the way, President Hwanwoong?”
Hwanwoong looks up from the phone to meet Youngjo’s practically expressionless eyes. It must be tiring to do this all the time. Why did you have to go and do it?
“Yes?”
“Can I call you nicknames? Like Woong or Woongie or whatever?” Oh shit, he’s serious about this.
Hwanwoong gaped for a few seconds before passing it off with a shrug. He hopes with every bit of his heart--however hopeless it might be--that Youngjo is taking this entire thing as a joke; that this is just a small extension of the joke that they’ll forget about when they graduate in two years time. “Um… sure. I don’t mind.” He smiles; an easy one all he can actually manage.
“Cool.” Youngjo smiled and Hwanwoong found it quite endearing. So endearing, in fact, that he found himself nodding along before he could stop anything else from happening to him.
“I’ll take my leave now. Please excuse me.” Hwanwoong bowed awkwardly to Youngjo, who laughed slightly to himself.
“Thanks for all your hard work today, Woongie.” Youngjo called behind him. Hwanwoong couldn’t answer with more than a nod. He feared that his words would once again betray him insanely. He could not manage another giant fuck up.
On the walk home, an entire course of what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck whatthefuckwasthat was no less than screaming at him with a fervor of a million suns. That’s the strange thing about it--he doesn’t even know what the fuck he said. He wanted to ask something normal--like maybe hey, how was your day? or do you like gummy bears? I have a couple extra I didn’t end up eating but no, he just had to open his stupid, stupid mouth and fucking ask have you been asked out today? And on top of that, he asked him out! For no reason! Out of nowhere! When he doesn’t even have any feelings for the boy! What the fuck, Yeo Hwanwoong?
There was no way Hwanwoong went home and thought about the way Youngjo said his nickname. Or about the way he had the guts to ask for his contact info. Absolutely no way.
It’s all fake, remember? Hwanwoong chides himself. He doesn’t actually like you, and you don’t actually like him either. This is some weird, sick joke. What are you doing to yourself, Yeo Hwanwoong?
If Hwanwoong goes to sleep a little disappointed, he doesn’t acknowledge it at all.