Chapter Text
Hyunjin was not the kind of person Seungmin could have ignored.
Not that he didn’t try at first. He dismissed the whispers that flooded the halls the second Hwang Hyunjin stepped into the school as an inconsequential result of his gossip-hungry classmates’ relatively drama-free summers, and ignored the chattering of his homeroom about the hot transfer from LA who plays, like, six sports and takes all the hard classes, preferring instead to proofread his internship application for that law firm his parents had requested he try.
All the hard classes turned out to be all of Seungmin’s classes too, so when he chose a seat in first period biology, he picked one far from Hyunjin and his storm of admirers, dragging his cousin Felix with him. But his disturbance was a mild one, and Seungmin put his head down, tuned out the chatter, and worked as he always did.
“He looks interesting though Seungminnie, I kinda want to talk to him,” Felix protested.
Seungmin retorted, “You won’t get through his wall of groupies,” and chose two second row seats. “He’s not that interesting anyway, he’ll just stay for a couple months, get involved in all the drama, then transfer somewhere else like all the other transfer students.”
“You’re being too harsh on him,” Felix slid into the chair he pulled out, “I’m going to find him at lunch, maybe make a friend.”
Felix would have no trouble making friends, he thought, but he didn’t know if Hyunjin was a person who would make a good one.
That Sunday, Seungmin braced himself for the onslaught of questions that post-church lunch always came with. His aunts would subtly prod him for high school gossip as dessert to whatever drama they had collected that morning.
“Did you hear,” Aunt Hyejin whispered as soon as she settled into her seat, leaning into the table conspiratorially, “that the Hwangs moved in? Their son is enrolled in Seungmin’s school too, can you imagine?”
Ah, so that was their target today.
“His parents made their money in media companies or something, didn’t they?” Aunt Soojin asked, managing to make media sound like shoveling cow manure.
“If we didn’t know that already, Mrs. Hwang’s outfit this morning would have given it away,” Hyejin shot back. “Anyone can tell their money is new. We’ll have to invite her for tea unfortunately, but we can hope their family has a little decorum.”
His aunts turned to him, “Do you know her son, Seungminnie? What is he like?” The unspoken questions underneath their words were: Does he fit into this world? Can he learn to?
“Yes Aunties, he’s in my grade,” he answered carefully, giving as little information as possible in order to discourage any more questions. He didn’t like to feed into their superficial judgements of people, and the fact that he would see this person at school the next day reminded him of just how uncomfortable some of his family’s ideas could make him.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”
That meant she had looked into him, or been shown a picture at least.
“And I heard this morning from my friends that he’s pretty popular, and he’s apparently very smart too, although it’s too early to tell that yet,” she continued.
His father interrupted the conversation to chuckle, “He won’t be as good as our Seungmin’s though,” briefly tousling Seungmin’s hair before continuing his conversation about their stock prices.
“Do you think he’ll do better than you?” Aunt Hyejin asked, cocking an eyebrow. She looked almost threatening, although at him or Hyunjin he didn’t know.
Felix interjected, “I’ve heard he’s smart. We’re in a lot of the same classes, so we might get to work together.” Hyunjin was smart, but Seungmin absolutely did not want to work together, even with a Felix to buffer.
Luckily for him, his mother and grandmother started a loud discussion on an upcoming real estate development that his aunt looked desperate to join. “That’s nice,” she glanced over for a second time. “Work hard, Seungmin-ah, you’ll do well.” He nodded, and she pinched his cheek before shifting a few seats over to give his mother a tip she’d heard from a friend of a friend.
The hurricane of rumours and chatter swept Hyunjin further and further away from Seungmin’s orbit over the first week of school, but never so far that he didn’t look up to see what the school’s it boy had been up to. Seungmin had resigned himself to that, an occasional peek at the rumour mill to keep tabs on the ever shifting social circles, but he hadn’t anticipated Hyunjin. He found himself eavesdropping on conversations after hearing so much as a syllable of his name, curious about the new face in his sphere of carefully maintained fortresses of wealth. It wasn’t often that his family cared about someone moving to town, and it was difficult to be so notable as to prompt more than a passing mention at family gatherings.
Hyunjin and his hive of admirers started to irritate him after the second week. There were whispers about what clubs he was looking at and what book he was reading that day, even what he had eaten for lunch. No matter where he was, Hyunjin’s name bounced off the walls, and anyone would get annoyed after a while. His mild irritation turned into a little bit of hatred when the rest of their classmates started comparing scores on their first test of the year.
Now, Seungmin is not an emotional person, he wouldn't say he's prone to bursts of intense anything let alone anger, but he can admit that something flared up in him when low oohs rumbled through the classroom at his and Hyunjin’s perfect scores. Identical to the bonus percentage points.
“His fans will be happy to hear that,” he remarked to Felix, rolling his eyes.
Hyunjin’s fans also made him competition in another way. For the first time in years, Seungmin had a competitor nominated for class president, but he predicted the campaign wouldn’t be hard. He was well liked, and his family’s history always helped to encourage others to suck up a little more. Despite Hyunjin’s new-ness—or because of it—his popularity easily matched Seungmin’s. No one was surprised when they tied for votes and became co-presidents, except for Seungmin, who had ended conversations every time someone mentioned Hyunjin to him.
From then on they were connected by the red string of fate, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. Hyunjin was quickly established as the only rival to Seungmin’s grades, and he could see that the other boy had results on track to take that top spot. He told himself it wasn’t the end of the world if Hyunjin ended up beating his test score someday, but lengthened the study blocks on his Google Calendar anyway. In some ways, this unofficial competition between them was welcome, it gave him a determination his parents could see, praising him for his diligence preparing for the university exams.
Hyunjin was the kind of smart that looked effortless. His good grades came packaged with good looks, good humour, and a thousand other virtues, and he was least interested in the good grades. Rationally, Seungmin knew that Hyunjin’s grades were most likely the result of hours of work, but he still felt a subtle burn of jealousy. His own good grades were built of many sleepless nights and tired days of studying, and he wished often that he could keep that effort hidden, create the image that he was naturally talented. He was the heir to a family of people whose names usually had Wikipedia pages and he felt it unfair that nothing came naturally to him, even if he came from a lineage of remarkable people. No matter how many times he was told that hard work paid off, he always felt as though someone else, like Hwang Hyunjin, would have been able to do better with equal effort.
In chemistry, Mr. Kang paired them for labs, deeming them equally matched and therefore able to fairly split the work. And they did, but being partners didn’t stop other students from choosing lab stations unnecessarily close to theirs in order to stare at Hyunjin. Or, in Han Jisung’s case, to talk nonstop to Hyunjin while Felix, his partner, was left to finish the experiment.
Seungmin looked up exasperatedly, sighing, “Can you tell your fanclub to mind their own business please?”
“Feeling excluded Seungminnie?” Hyunjin smirked, “I can always tell them to cheer for you too.”
“I would prefer if they did it somewhere I couldn’t hear them,” he replied, adding magnesium to the crucible. “And if they could take Jisung while they’re at it that would be appreciated.”
“I’m a delight to be around!” Jisung exclaimed, summoned from his rant about that week’s baseball game.
Hyunjin threw his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, “We’re inseparable,” he proclaimed, “he couldn’t live without me.”
“I absolutely could!”
“Sure, when my cook’s meals basically keep you alive at this point.”
“Um…” Felix quietly interrupted the argument and tapped Jisung’s shoulder, “Could you hold the crucible while I get the clay triangle?” When he was shy, he looked much smaller than Seungmin was used to. His slightly bowed head and soft, almost delicate smile made him seem fragile when Seungmin knew that had never been the case. He glanced at Jisung, wondering why this specific boy made Felix so nervous. Obviously he liked Jisung, but Seungmin could not for the life of him fathom why.
Jisung whipped around to shoot Felix two finger guns and a tongue click, leaving Hyunjin’s arm without so much as a word.
“Abandoned for a pretty boy.” Hyunjin flopped onto his stool dramatically, sighing, “I’m devastated. Well, I wouldn’t have expected any less of Jisung. Get it Jisungie!” The last part was whisper-yelled toward the back of Jisung’s band tee. Seungmin felt warning bells go off in his head. He didn’t want Felix to get hurt—there was no one who deserved that less—and Jisung, Hyunjin, and their crowd had a reputation that Seungmin didn’t think was entirely favourable, despite their legions of fans.
“Yes, you seem very sad,” Seungmin said dryly, continuing to monitor the flame of their bunsen burner.
“Okay, I’m helping!”
The week before Easter holidays, Seungmin and Hyunjin stayed behind in a borrowed classroom to work on a speech for political science. They had been paired yet again, their teachers seemed to enjoy encouraging the rivalry narrative the entire student body was writing. Seungmin was determined to say as little as possible, but the other boy enjoyed seeing how far his taunts could go until he got a reaction.
“You’ve been slipping lately,” Hyunjin said. “At this rate I’ll beat your score next time without studying, your team should probably switch sides while they can.”
Their class had separated into halves since that first science test, one rooting for Seungmin and the other for Hyunjin. Nearly every assignment handed back was followed by silence as the classroom collectively held their breaths for their results. Honestly it was getting annoying, as nice as it was to know half his classmates thought he was better than Hwang Hyunjin.
Seungmin tried to ignore the insult, continuing his search for sources on Korea’s economic policies. He saw the words on the screen but didn’t remember them, thinking about his last grade instead. They had gotten identical scores again, but it was lower than Seungmin had expected and his face hadn’t been prepared to hide his disappointment. Now Hyunjin was using it against him.
His irritation must have shown on his face, because Hyunjin giggled.
That annoyed Seungmin more than the insult had. Why was he thinking about their not-so-secret competition when Hyunjin was clearly too arrogant to care that Seungmin was still narrowly beating him? “Maybe this is the reason we’re not done our research,” He tapped Hyunjin’s laptop to get him to continue researching. “You can keep dreaming, but you’re not exactly working hard enough to pass me.”
Hyunjin was silent then, turning back to his screen. He was clearly hurt by that, but Seungmin couldn’t quite bring himself to feel sorry. He was glad of the quiet at any rate. It lasted all of two minutes before Seungmin saw Hyunjin turn to face him out of the corner of his eye and open his mouth, but he interrupted, “I’m nearly done anyway, you can go meet Jisung, I know he invited you to a PC room earlier.”
“Well— I’ll do more research later you know, I’m pretty good at—”
“It’s fine,” he waved his hand, shooing Hyunjin out the door. “I can do it without you.”
To his surprise, Hyunjin sat back down. “I’m staying.”
Seungmin looked directly at him for the first time that evening, confused. “I said it was fine, you can go have fun—”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “Come on, Seungmin. We’re not close to being done and you know it. I’m sorry I’ve been kind of an ass tonight, I’ll make up for it.”
“Well, you’re more self-aware than I gave you credit for,” Seungmin sniped, lifting a brow.
Hyunjin lifted one of his own, “And you’re more honest.”
A wall broke then, and a grudging mutual respect formed. They spent a while in silent research, only speaking to share useful articles and make notes on the other’s work.
Seungmin snuck glances at Hyunjin, now illuminated by the light of a just-set sun. He had hit a nerve with his comment earlier, insinuating that he was lazy. If being perceived that way irked him so much, perhaps they had something in common after all. For all Seungmin’s desire for natural academic talent, he’d rather be seen as a try-hard than for someone to believe he didn’t try at all.
This time, Seungmin was the one to break the silence. “Have you heard that some people think my family bribes the teachers into giving me my grades?” he asked on impulse. It was a terrible conversation starter, but it was getting late and he couldn’t help wondering if that was why Hyunjin seemed to think their rivalry wasn’t worth any effort.
Hyunjin’s shock was plain on his face. “That’s bullshit, you never stop studying, why would you try so hard if it didn’t matter?”
That was unexpected. Seungmin hadn’t thought his partner would defend him, even if he was defending him from himself. “I thought you’d agree,” he said.
“No! Anyone can see you work for what you get, same as I do! Besides, imagine trying to bribe Mr. Lee, you’d get a surprise lecture on the moral degeneracy of humans through his megaphone.”
Neither of them had anything to say after that, and silence settled again. Seungmin took a deep breath. “I apologise for what I said, you work hard for your grades, I was out of line,” he gave Hyujin a small grin. “You’re not good enough to beat me, but it’s enough.” This jab lacked any of the spite that laced his first one, it was really more of a gentle nudge.
Their conversation opened up after that, they were free to tease back when each knew that the other was more of a person than they first assumed. Seungmin learned that Hyunjin had been hiring his own tutors to help him catch up to their school’s advanced curriculum since his parents thought he was more of a genius than Einstein, and that he made friends with Jisung after he almost punched him for insulting his outfit. He shared in return that he and Felix had been inseparable since he moved back to Korea for middle school and that he stayed up hours after his parents, finishing everything they expected him to be able to do, and making sure that nothing would ever be out of order in their line of sight.
This sharing, he thought, was a result of being in the liminal space of their fluorescent-lightbulb-lit school at night mixed with the adrenaline that spiked when you were in close quarters with someone you hated. Impulsive airing of feelings was not something he usually did.
Hyunjin’s questions and interest were genuine, he wasn’t quite the mirror image of the rumour-hungry cliques that surrounded him in the daytime. Still, Seungmin didn’t say everything that he was thinking that night. After all, the more time you spent with someone, the more you resemble them, and he did not think telling his deepest secrets to a Jisung replica was a good idea.
Fridays were his weekly volunteering shifts at the public library, he had been going since he was fourteen and convinced his parents to let him go with a rehearsed speech about giving back to the community, taking initiative, and gaining work experience. Honestly though, he had just wanted an excuse to not be studying that wasn’t another gala or his parents’ business dinners where they needed to look like a family. This particular Friday, he showed up, saw Hyunjin in a fluffy yellow cardigan behind the front desk, and considered walking straight back out and telling his parents he was dropping his shifts to study more. He didn’t though.
This library had become a refuge for him over the years, a spot of recurring calm in his increasingly structured schedules. He always had school, and endless extracurriculars, and the bi-weekly functions his parents ordered him to attend for appearances sake, but he also always had his two hour Friday shifts. Two hours where nothing was expected of him but that he follow instructions well and help any library patrons who needed it. He had come to think of the Friday library as “his” and Hyunjin’s sudden appearance was a branch that popped the bubble.
Don’t be petty, he scolded himself, his cousin’s reproachful face bouncing around his head, Felix would be disappointed in you, he’s not that bad anyway.
“Hello Hyunjin,” he greeted with a nod.
Hyunjin responded with, “Hi Seungmin!” and gave him the same hundred-watt smile his school admirers received.
They were cordial now, and an onlooker might have called them friends if they weren’t used to the guarded politeness in those social circles. Behind the desk though, there was a heavy awkward silence, broken only by Seungmin’s quiet instructions on how software worked and where office supplies were. Seungmin nearly exhaled in relief when Hyunjin offered to reshelve the cart of returned books, and waved him off with a thanks and small smile.
Hyunjin didn’t return at any point during the rest of the shift. He had probably gotten distracted answering the texts Jisung had been lighting up his phone with, Seungmin thought, weaving through the shelves, looking for the other boy to guide him through the sign-out and hand off process to the next pair of volunteers. Then, a flash of sunflower yellow guided his eye through a gap in a shelf. Hyunjin was standing motionless with one hand on the half-emptied book cart, the other holding an open book. Magyk, the title read.
Seungmin stepped closer to the gap, watching as a gentle smile rippled across Hyunjin’s face, first lifting the corners of his lips, then plumping his cheeks and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Of the reasons he thought Hyunjin had gone missing, losing track of time reading a children’s fantasy novel wasn’t on that list. A novel he had loved since he learned to read, and still read when he needed a comforting place to rest his mind. It was a little endearing, watching the school’s it boy smile at the book in a cardigan the colour and texture of chicks in a baby’s touch ‘n feel book, his eyes moving back and forth as if watching a tennis game. He looked much less arrogant out of a blazer and tie, almost ordinary.
He made his steps louder before rounding the shelf, and saw Hyunjin shoving the book back onto the shelf before lifting his head and giving him a polite smile. Seungmin bit back his grin as he trailed behind Hyunjin to the front desk, and soon they walked into the cool spring air side by side.
“Bye Hyunjin,” Seungmin said, waving as he slid into the backseat of the family car. Hyunjin waved back. His yellow cardigan melted into the grey cityscape as the car pulled into traffic and the chauffeur informed Seungmin that they would be picking up his mother from a meeting and heading home to change for that night’s charity dinner.
Once home, Seungmin headed straight for his room and fell into bed, hoping he’d be able to fit in a short nap before his mom realised he wasn’t changing and picked an outfit for him.
As an afterthought, he painstakingly picked himself out of bed and opened his laptop. He had better use the time to email off those internship applications he had written. To his surprise, a large sheet of paper was taped to the window across from his own, bold black Sharpie letters reading, kim seungmin ??? Next to the letters was a face Seungmin was becoming more familiar with, cupped in a pair of large hands.
He wrote back: Hwang Hyunjin. He hoped the windows were far enough apart that Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to see how much his note had shocked him. He had nearly fallen out of his desk chair leaning forward to re-read the paper.
Then as an afterthought, he wrote another note. When did you move in? He hadn’t seen any movers, and judging from what his aunts had been saying about Hyunjin’s family, he thought they’d have solid gold gargoyles or something equally flashy to show off. The apartment room he could see across from his was remarkably plain though, just a few polaroids taped onto the door.
last month. i usually stay out later than this, was Hyunjin’s response. He had no trouble reading the note, they were so close they could have thrown snacks to each other with open windows and good aim.
“Seungmin-ah, you’re done, right? Come help me fasten my necklace!” his mom called. He sighed. Then he wrote to Hyunjin: gtg, dinner tonight. He received a, have fun! :) in return, and he hurriedly scrawled, No promises, before yanking the curtains shut and changing. All throughout the many courses of dinner, Seungmin kept remembering how close he and Hyunjin had been without him knowing. Hyunjin seemed to be insistent on inserting himself into every part of his life, to the point where Seungmin would insert the other boy himself if he wasn’t around.
The next morning, Seungmin glanced at his closed curtains every time he passed by them. He sat down at his desk to finish some homework, but looked up so often he might as well have ignored the worksheets. The curtains were pale yellow, nearly the colour of Hyunjin’s cardigan yesterday. Seungmin groaned, slumping his head to his forearms. There was no escaping the thoughts anymore, it wasn’t just Felix nagging him to talk to Hyunjin, his own room was doing it now.
He gave into the temptation and threw the yellow fabric open, and waiting for him on the other side was Hwang Hyunjin with tape on his lips, one hand pressing a sheet of paper to his window and the other pulling another piece of tape off the dispenser.
The note read:
good morning ;)
It was. Until I saw this. He wrote back.
those curtains opened quickly, u sure that’s true? Seungmin felt his ears flush at the accuracy.
He quickly retaliated with his own note. I think you’re the one excited to see me. It was a weak attempt to deflect and he knew it.
Hyunjin swung his head around, looking at someone beyond his open door. The next note he wrote read: gtg, duty calls!
Seungmin waved him off with a note reading: That’s a lot of effort just to tell me I’m right.
The window notes didn’t stop after that weekend. On Monday, Hyunjin left another note. i’m wishing u luck on the math test bc i know i can beat u without it. He had already left for school. On Tuesday, the note that greeted him reminded him that it was expected to rain when school ended. Seungmin started to keep a blank sketchbook in his desk so he could write back. On the days they happened to wake at the same time, they would have little conversations, inevitably losing track of time before sprinting out the door. A couple weeks after the first note, the one that greeted Seungmin in the morning said, meet me by that tree under our windows? i’ll buy u coffee? That became something of a routine for them. On days when they saw the other through the window first rather than a note, they would meet outside and alternate buying breakfast. Seungmin found Hyunjin increasingly easy to talk to, although the sense of competition between them hadn’t faded; instead it had softened, and their insults were no longer aimed to draw blood. Hyunjin became a fixture in Seungmin’s life much too easily, he thought, but their window notes only increased in length and frequency.
In one of their midnight conversations, Seungmin asked about the book Hyunjin was reading, and it turned out to be the same fantasy novel he had tried to hide at the library. Their notes get longer and longer, until Seungmin needed to take a photo with his phone and zoom in to be able to make out the words. When he looked up from the last picture, Hyunjin is holding another note.
as poetic as this is, we have phones for a reason. At the bottom of the page was a phone number.
Seungmin paused to think for a second before he pulled out his phone and typed it in. At this point, he was willing to call them something like friends. Not quite there yet, but he could see that they would be, if he let himself keep talking.
It took him longer than he would have liked to compose his first message, which read: For straight A students, it took us way too long to think of this.
He saw Hyunjin’s grin widen after the message was sent, fingers flying across the keyboard. His reply said, who is this? If the shit-eating smile Seungmin could see on his face through the window was any indication, he definitely knew who sent the message.
Seungmin rolled his eyes, but smiled a little just the same. He decided to play along. Kim Seungmin? You might have heard of me?
oh, confident, are we? if you’re really seungmin can i have a picture for proof?
Seungmin couldn’t help his growing smile at that one. If you want one, you can take one, can’t you?
Seungmin loved his family, he couldn’t help it, but there were times when he wished they weren’t so close. It was a completely ordinary family dinner, held at his grandparents’ estate just outside Seoul, but he felt suffocated in his button up. Everything was just slightly too warm, and he felt a phantom headache pounding behind his eyes, sure to become a true one in an hour or so. It had not been a good day so far. His battery had been drained by a week of mock debates and assignment deadlines, and the last thing he wanted to do on Saturday was to greet every aunt and uncle who lived in Korea and be grilled about which of the SKY universities he would choose next year, which would inevitably result in arguments in favour of the alma mater of whoever he happened to be speaking with. He wondered if the scolding he would get would be worth it if he hid in a linen closet for an hour, just for the peace and quiet. If Felix had been there it might have been tolerable, but he had been excused for taekwondo training.
These large family gatherings always started with at least an hour of mingling and drinks before the courses came out. This was the part Seungmin hated the most. When he was younger though, he loved the attention. As a precocious child, he soaked in the approval when he used a more complicated word than expected, or answered a question with something that more suited someone well into their adult years. Now that he had grown old enough to carry the expectations his family had been holding for him, his mind struggled to keep itself from crumbling when he saw them all. Having his extended family all in one place reminded him of just how much they thought of him, and on some days it felt as though each of them were winding ribbons around his heart, squeezing tighter so slowly he didn't realise the pressure was too much until it was too late.
If the world were kind, the adults would have had dinner carrying on their conversations, ignoring him entirely. As it was, fate has a twisted sense of humour and provided him a conversation with his parents that tied the ribbons around his heart into a strangling knot.
His mother smiled at him, a smile that told him she believed she knew more about his own life than he did. They questioned him through the dinner and on the drive home, not-so-subtly hinting at secret dates, stolen kisses, and skipped classes, mentioning girls whose families they knew, or whose reputation for overachieving preceded them.
“I remember I dated tons of girls at your age, my mother would have been appalled! If I had told her that is.” His dad winked at him. Seungmin smiled tiredly back.
Seungmin had known he was bisexual since he was thirteen, after noting that his thoughts about BTOB’s Lee Minhyuk were definitely not what his classmates thought about their favourite musicians. In the five years since, he had never once spoken those words aloud. Instead, his laptop’s private windows had held words he cringed to remember now. He had never bothered building up the courage to tell his family, believing that it wouldn’t affect the life his parents wanted for him, and hoping that he would never have to even chance disappointing them.
He didn’t like to introspect for too long, keeping these and similar thoughts in a part of his brain reserved for the witching hours when he couldn’t sleep. Occasionally, on particularly difficult days, his brain flagged, and the walls containing those thoughts cracked from the pressure.
He had heard these politely prodding questions countless times, but they felt sharper today. Each rising tone that ended a sentence tugged the knot around his heart tighter, until he thought blood might start beading at his lips.
He kept his tears at bay until he reached his room, bidding his parents a goodnight so they wouldn’t think anything was amiss. The click of his door closing broke the dam, and the tears that had been slowly creeping up that evening spilled over. He muffled soft cries into his palms, hoping the murmur of the tv and his parents’ conversation would smother them.
The questions were harmless, technically, and he didn’t understand why it had to be this specific round of questions that caused him to shatter. He could only be grateful that the pressure was being released as a long exhale of steam rather than an explosion. At least this way he could control the flow.
A tap on his window made him raise his head, just in time to see Hyunjin tossing something out his open window that bounced off the glass in front of his face. There was a note pressed to the window, reading: you ok? His expression was concerned, and his eyes asked questions Seungmin kind of wanted to answer.
Seungmin reached for the sketchbook in his desk to write back.
Did you just throw an almond at my window?
Hyunjin giggled soundlessly through the glass. Seungmin watched as he grabbed his phone, and a second later his own mobile rang. He picked up, and they talked, watching each other’s expressions through the windows.
“I thought it would get your attention better than a text, and I didn’t know if you would answer a phone call if you didn’t know I was looking right at you.”
Seungmin replied, “You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”
“I wanted to ask if you were okay. And if I could do anything to help.”
“Are you really looking at me? Because I don’t think you can miss this,” he gestured at his swollen, red eyes. “Even through two layers of glass.”
Hyunjin defended himself, laughing. “I don’t know! Maybe it was normal two am emotions! That happens to me sometimes.” His voice softened. “So do you want to talk?” He rolled an almond between his fingers. “About anything, I mean. If you want me to distract you. Or something.”
“I…” Seungmin let out a breath. “I kind of do want to talk about it,” he admitted.
“Well then, I’m all ears. I can also be a mouth if you want me to be. That sounds weird, I meant give advice. But I won’t interrupt! Okay, I’m going to stop talking now, sorry.” He sounded as if he hadn’t expected Seungmin to accept his offer.
His lips cracked a wobbly smile. “Parental expectations, you know? There was a family dinner tonight, and, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of stressed lately, and something my parents said was the last straw.”
“Is it okay if I ask what it was?”
Seungmin took another deep breath, holding it, and thinking. He was reasonably certain Hyunjin wouldn’t accuse him of being possessed by a demon, or expose him to the school, or lecture him on the dangers of “giving into temptation,” as his pastor had once put it. He was best friends with Jisung after all, and of all the possibly queer kids at their school he was the one who definitely didn’t try very hard to hide the fact that he liked boys. Hyunjin would be the first person he told if he gave in, and god, he wanted to say it so badly.
“I’m bi.” The words fell from his mouth for the first time after years of waiting. He slowly looked up from his desk, anticipating the worst, but there was Hyunjin, softly smiling, and nodding encouragingly for him to continue.
“My parents were talking about me getting a girlfriend. And,” he let out a wet laugh, tears pricking at his eyes again. “It’s not a new conversation, but, I don’t know. I guess it was too much along with the other stuff. You don’t know how good it feels to say that.” He stopped to take a breath. Crying really took something out of you. “You’re the first person I’ve told, you know?”
Seungmin could see Hyunjin’s eyes widen and his lips round in shock, pointing at himself. He let a breath of a laugh escape.
“M— Me? Why— I—” Hyunjin stuttered through the phone speaker. He settled on, “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I haven’t told them, evidently, I don’t think I ever will. I’m just getting tired,” he gestured vaguely around him. “Of all this, stuff. I know what my family thinks I want, and I did used to want it, if only because that was the only thing I knew. My parents, my grandparents, their grandparents, they all built this—this box for me to live in, and it was my perfect fit at fourteen but I think—No, I have outgrown it, and I don’t know how long I can keep shoving myself into that box. I was just hoping I could stay slightly uncomfortable, I could deal with that, but today kind of showed me I’m bound to shatter it sooner or later.
“I don’t know what I want, I never thought I would have to figure it out, but I know I’m not the son my parents wanted.”
He didn’t think he had ever spoken to Hyunjin for so long, but now that he had started, he couldn’t stop.
There was a moment of silence through the line. Seungmin wondered if Hyunjin would just hang up, if he had spilled too much.
“Can I tell you something too?” Hyunjin said. “I think it could help. Your story helped me a little, even if you didn’t intend it to.”
Seungmin nodded, suddenly self conscious of his words after having said so many. He wondered what it might be, seeing as, although Hyunjin had become more human to him, there was still a part of his brain that was convinced someone so lovely couldn't be real. He supposed that they both did a good job building fortresses for their hearts.
“I know it’s not the same, but sometimes I feel like the box my parents made for me is too big—I’m stealing your metaphor here for a second, it was a good one—and it makes me feel tiny. At this point the box I’m supposed to inherit is a penthouse apartment. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fill it. That’s why I hired my own tutors, and probably why I was a bit of a dick at the beginning,” Hyunjin confessed. “I’ll probably spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to not feel small in it.”
“But you want it.”
Hyunjin nodded. “I’m terrified of disappointing them, but I’m more scared of looking back and realising I didn’t even try. You shouldn’t regret your goals, they are yours in the first place.”
Neither of them have ever been honest people. How can you be when you’re surrounded by oceans of expensively straightened teeth and outfits that cost more than Ivy League tuition curated to look like they just rolled out of bed? Words that are just innocent enough to keep friends around but just sharp enough to leave them with paper cuts they don’t notice until they start to sting? Seungmin had never entertained the thought of showing the merest glimpse of the mess he hides underneath his bed to anyone. In their world, that mess stays in the dark to be slowly cleaned up in private if you’re lucky, or builds up to an explosion if you’re not.
Seungmin was starting to think he might be luckier than he thought.