Chapter Text
Dylan was sat on his bed, back pressed up against the headboard. He had spent a significant portion of his afternoon staring at the wall opposite him, trying his best to empty his brain; it was preferable to anything else in the room. Everything else, it seemed, served only as a reminder of Jun.
Another rehearsal had wrapped up. Another day had passed, filled with Jun’s relentless flirting. Subtle winks during choreography, those 'accidental' touches in the hallway, sarcastic compliments that made Dylan’s eye twitch.
Jun was a menace, charming and infuriating. Just thinking about him made a familiar unease churn in Dylan’s stomach, a feeling that made him want to scream, to throw something, or simply for Jun to vanish entirely.
He reached for his well-worn notebook from the bedside table. Its cover was scuffed, many pages dog-eared from constant use. Flipping past song lyrics and messy doodles, he found a fresh page. He picked up a pen and gripped it tightly. After a moment of deep thought, he scrawled a title at the top of the page.
5 Steps to a Jun-Free Life
He studied the words. This was it, a proper plan, meticulously laid out. He muttered to himself.
Step 1: Ignore him completely
He pressed the pen down on the page, underlining IGNORE three times. The ink bled slightly into the paper, but he paid it no mind. It felt right. This was serious. This was absolutely necessary.
Ignoring Jun. It sounded deceptively simple, almost too simple to be effective. But it had to work. It absolutely had to. Dylan couldn't put up with Jun's antics any longer, or it just might kill him.
Dylan closed his eyes and let himself relive a mental montage of Jun's most recent offences.
There was the incident with his favourite hoodie. Jun hadn’t just borrowed it (which still would have pissed Dylan off), he had taken it outright. Dylan discovered it a week later when he found Jun casually lounging on the sofa, Dylan's hoodie sat on his lap like a blanket, with that infuriatingly smug grin plastered on his face. Dylan had snatched it back, but Jun had only responded with a loud, obnoxious laugh. He knew what he was doing.
Then there were the interviews. Jun always blew kisses to the camera, a standard part of his public persona. But sometimes, he would subtly aim one at Dylan, a quick gesture meant only for him. It always made Dylan’s skin crawl. He wasn’t quite sure why it made his skin crawl, but it did. He always pretended not to notice, though it was a constant struggle.
Dylan recalled seeing Jun in the cafeteria when Jun had offered him a bite of his sandwich. Dylan had refused. Jun had insisted, holding the sandwich so close to Dylan’s mouth that Dylan had to turn his face away. Jun had simply chuckled, taken the bite himself, and then winked. Dylan had felt a strong urge to punch him right then. He often did.
The memory of Jun’s wink made Dylan’s jaw clench. He opened his eyes, looking at the notebook. Ignore him completely. This was the only viable path forward. Jun thrived on reactions, any reaction at all. So, Dylan would give him none. He would become a wall. He would not give in to Jun.
He could do this. For his own sanity.
He leaned back against the headboard, the mattress shifting beneath him. He was exhausted. Not from physical tiredness, but from mental overload. Jun drained him.
He had to put a stop to it. This plan, he told himself, was foolproof. He would regain his peace, he would reclaim his quiet, and he would finally have his Jun-free life.
He smiled faintly to himself. Jun-Free Life. It sounded like absolute paradise.
~
The next morning, Dylan woke early, feeling a sense of purpose, knowing that today his plan would finally begin.
Step 1: ignore Jun completely.
He dressed in silence, envisioning himself as a ghost, completely invisible to Jun. This was going to be so easy.
Entering the kitchen, Dylan found Nano already there, humming a song, while Jun stood at the counter, spooning cereal into a bowl. Dylan kept his eyes fixed on the kettle, pouring water for his tea without a single glance or acknowledgement towards Jun, whose presence he could distinctly feel from the other side of the room. It was immediately irritating.
"Morning, Dyl!" Jun’s voice, bright and far too cheerful for such an early hour, cut sharply through the quiet.
Dylan offered no response, simply stirring his tea as the spoon clinked against the mug, before taking a sip. He could sense Jun watching him, almost hearing the unasked question in Jun’s silent observation, and a familiar tightness began to form in Dylan’s stomach. This, he realised, was already proving harder than he had anticipated.
He finished his tea quickly, rinsed his mug, and walked out of the kitchen without another sound. Jun’s light, airy laugh followed him down the hall, making Dylan’s jaw clench. I will not react, he told himself.
Later, on the way to the company, Dylan walked with a determined stride, his head down and eyes fixed on the pavement ahead. He could hear footsteps behind him, knowing precisely who it was, yet he neither sped up nor slowed down, simply continuing his steady pace.
"Dylaaan," Jun’s voice sang out, close behind him, "guess what? My left sock is slightly bluer than my right sock. Fascinating, right?"
Dylan’s shoulders tensed, picturing Jun’s wide, knowing grin without even needing to turn. He didn’t respond. He was convinced that sometimes Jun yapped just to hear himself talk. Half of what he said was just complete and utter nonsense.
"Also," Jun continued, his voice now right beside Dylan’s ear, "your eyelashes are unfair. Seriously. How do you even get them to curl like that? It’s not fair to the rest of us."
Dylan’s hand clenched into a fist, feeling a prickle of heat rise on his neck. He longed to snap back, to tell Jun to get lost, to demand that he stop, but he held it all in. I will not react. I will not react. The words cycled through his mind, a constant mantra.
Reaching the rehearsal rooms, Dylan slipped inside quickly, heading straight for his usual corner where he began stretching, focusing on the cool floor beneath his hands. He heard Jun enter, heard his voice greeting Nano, and then Jun’s distinctive laughter, yet Dylan kept his gaze lowered throughout.
During rehearsal, Dylan maintained a distance. He meticulously avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Jun. Whenever Jun moved too close, Dylan would subtly shift, taking a step to the left or executing a quick spin to the right, becoming a master of evasion. He felt Jun’s eyes on him like a constant, but he pushed through it.
Later, during a water break, Dylan found a quiet spot by the wall, taking a long drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He heard footsteps approaching, but didn't bother to look up.
"Good job, Dyl," Jun said, his voice casual. "You were really going for it today. Extra intense."
Dylan took another drink, offering only a grunt as he kept his eyes on the water bottle. He could feel Jun standing over him, his presence was stifling.
"Are you ignoring me?" Jun sounded amused, a playful challenge evident in his voice.
Dylan finished his water, screwed the cap back on, and walked away without uttering a word or looking back. He heard Jun chuckle behind him.
Lunch in the cafeteria proved no different. Dylan found a table in a far corner, eating his food slowly, trying to blend in and be invisible. It was, he knew, a futile effort.
Jun appeared, seemingly from nowhere, pulling up a chair opposite Dylan and settling down before he began to speak.
"So, I was thinking about that new song we're working on," Jun began. "It’s got a really interesting beat, and I think your rap part could be amazing. You could really go wild with it, you know? Like, really make it yours."
Dylan chewed his food, swallowed, and took another bite, refusing to look at Jun or speak.
"Oh also," Jun continued, completely undeterred, "I saw this cat today. A proper fluffy white cat. It was sitting on a wall, just staring at me, like it knew all my secrets. It was a bit creepy, actually. But also kind of cute. You like cats, Dyl?"
Dylan picked at his rice, pushing a grain around his plate. He felt a distinct flicker of annoyance in his chest. I will not react, he reminded himself.
The afternoon dragged on, with Dylan maintaining his strict campaign of silence. In the corridors, he walked faster whenever he saw Jun approaching, and in the company common room, he would bury his face in his phone.
Returning to the apartment in the evening, Dylan wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch, put on his headphones, and disappear into his own world. However, upon entering the living room, he found Jun already there, sprawled across the cushions.
Dylan walked towards the couch, but opted for the armchair instead, sitting down and picking up a magazine, pretending to read. He could feel Jun’s eyes on him, sensing Jun’s curiosity.
"You’re being very quiet today, Dyl," Jun observed, his voice soft. He sounded almost concerned. "Everything alright?"
Dylan flipped a page, offering another grunt. Jun was definitely just trying to get under his skin again.
"Are you mad at me?" Jun asked. Dylan could have sworn he heard a hint of doubt creep into Jun's tone, but he brushed it off. Jun didn't care about stuff like that.
Dylan did not respond, keeping his eyes on the magazine. He felt a subtle shift on the couch, then a distinct presence beside him. He didn't look.
Then came a sudden weight. Jun had flopped directly onto his lap. Dylan froze, feeling Jun’s legs draped over his own, Jun’s torso pressed against him, and Jun’s head resting on his shoulder.
Dylan’s eyes snapped to Jun’s face. Jun was grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Dylan immediately sent a warning death glare his way. Jun, however, ignored it completely, simply settling in and making himself comfortable. Dylan’s plan, it seemed, was not going very well.
~
Having Jun plastered across his lap had been almost unbearable. Dylan had endured it for a full five minutes before he finally managed to shift, dislodging Jun. Jun had simply chuckled, a rumbling sound against Dylan’s ear, before sliding off the sofa and stretching like a contented cat. Dylan had then made his escape, mumbling something about needing to check on a new beat in the studio, a transparent excuse that Jun had, predictably, seen straight through. Jun had just waved him off with a knowing grin.
Now, in the safety of his room, Dylan felt the full force of his frustration. He paced the small space, each step heavy, his mind a whirlwind of agitated thoughts. Step 1, the foolproof plan, had crumbled. It hadn't even lasted a full day. Jun was just impossible. He was a force of nature that simply refused to be ignored.
Dylan ran a hand through his hair in stress. This was precisely what he wanted to avoid. This constant mental wrestling with Jun’s existence.
He stopped pacing abruptly and then stalked over to his bedside table, snatching up the worn notebook and looking at the list he had so optimistically started that morning. He flipped it open, finding the page with 5 Steps to a Jun-Free Life. The underlined IGNORE staring back at him like a cruel joke.
His hand trembled slightly as he uncapped his pen. What could he write? How could he possibly articulate the constant, annoying persistence of Junn Tangsakultham? He thought back to Jun’s voice, narrating his sock colour, complimenting his eyelashes, completely unfazed by Dylan’s stone-cold silence. Jun had simply treated his attempts at ignoring him as a challenge, a game. He was like a golden retriever, always seeking attention, bringing back the ball no matter how many times you threw it away. Except this golden retriever could talk. And sing. And rap. And he had a microphone.
And so, he wrote just that.
Edit: Step 1 failed. He’s like a golden retriever… but with a microphone
He stared at the new addition. Yes, that captured it. The cheerful persistence. The way Jun just narrated his day, as if Dylan were a captive audience. The way he just existed loudly. It was all there.
Step 1 was a bust. Completely ineffective. He needed something more drastic. Something that would truly drive Jun away. He needed to make himself unappealing. Repulsive, even.
Step 2: Be an unbearable roommate
No more half-measures. No more subtle hints. He would become the absolute worst person to live with. He would make Jun regret ever thinking they could coexist. He would make Jun want to avoid him.
He underlined UNBEARABLE.
This time, Jun wouldn't be able to laugh it off. This time, Jun would truly be driven away. Dylan would win.
~
The next day, it was time for Dylan’s escalation. He would become the roommate from hell. He would be so unbearable that Jun would flee.
His first target was snacks. Jun had a particular fondness for those ridiculously expensive, artisanal crisps, the ones that came in fancy foil bags. Dylan found a stash in the kitchen cupboard. He opened one, crunched loudly, then left the empty bag on the counter, right next to Jun’s favourite mug.
He watched, hidden behind the living room door, as Jun walked in, saw the empty bag, and merely blinked. No reaction. Jun simply picked up the bag, tossed it, and started making coffee. Dylan’s teeth ground together. This was not going to be easy.
He tried again later that morning. Jun had a habit of leaving a small bowl of fruit on the coffee table to eat later. Dylan walked past, snatched a banana and ate it in two bites, leaving the peel on the table. He waited. Jun came in, saw the peel, and smiled. He picked it up, walking to the bin and returned with a fresh apple. He placed it carefully in the bowl. Dylan’s frustration grew. Jun was either incredibly patient or completely oblivious. Dylan suspected the latter, which only made him more irritated.
Next, the packages. Jun received parcels almost daily, usually clothes or obscure art supplies. Dylan saw a new one arrive, a medium-sized box left by the front door. He waited until Jun was in the shower. Then he grabbed the box. He considered the usual spots. Under the bed, behind the couch, but those were too obvious.
He needed to think creatively. He climbed onto a chair, pushing the box onto the very top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, behind a seldom-used slow cooker. It was a perfect hiding spot. He felt a small thrill. This had to provoke a reaction.
Hours passed until Jun emerged from his room, looking for his delivery. Dylan sat on the couch, pretending to be engrossed in a book. He heard Jun muttering, searching the usual places. Dylan’s lips twitched, and he almost smiled. Jun’s voice grew louder, a hint of exasperation creeping in. "Has anyone seen a box? It’s got a picture of a very sad-looking badger on it."
Dylan kept his face blank as he heard Jun sigh. Then, a few minutes later, Jun’s voice, clear and mock-scolding, floated from the kitchen. "Whoever hid my shampoo… I hope your pillow is warm on both sides."
Dylan’s head snapped up. His shampoo? He had forgotten about that. He had taken it this morning, a spur-of-the-moment decision while Jun was still asleep. He had tucked it behind the toilet. A simple act of petty sabotage. He hadn’t expected Jun to notice so quickly.
He walked into the kitchen. Jun stood by the sink, a small bottle of shampoo in his hand, a playful expression on his face. Dylan met his gaze, his own face carefully neutral. "What are you talking about?"
Jun’s grin widened. "Oh, you know. My lovely, expensive, limited-edition shampoo. It went on a little adventure this morning. Found it behind the toilet. Naughty shampoo."
Dylan’s internal monologue was a flurry of disbelief. Naughty shampoo? Jun was ridiculous. He needed to hit back. Harder. "You're so unnecessarily dramatic. I hope you step on a lego," Dylan said flatly.
Jun burst out laughing, a loud laugh that filled the kitchen. "A lego? That’s brutal, Dyl. You’re really going for it today, aren’t you?"
Dylan turned and walked away as Jun’s laughter followed him. His plan was backfiring spectacularly. Jun was finding his attempts at being unbearable amusing. This was not how it was supposed to work.
Later that afternoon, Dylan spotted Jun’s laundry basket. It was overflowing with a colourful pile of clothes near the washing machine. This was his chance. He walked past it, aiming for an 'accidental' bump. He kicked it just enough to send the contents spilling across the hallway floor. Shirts, trousers, socks, all scattered. He glanced back. Jun was walking out of his room. He saw the mess. He looked at Dylan.
Dylan shrugged innocently. He continued walking, as if nothing had happened. He waited for the explosion. He waited for the anger. For anything.
Jun just sighed. He bent down, gathering the clothes. He hummed a little tune as he picked them up, neatly placing them back in the basket. He even folded a few items. Dylan watched from the doorway of his room. Jun wasn’t reacting how he had expected at all. He was tidying.
Dylan returned to his room, slamming the door. He threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in a pillow. This was impossible. Jun was immune to his efforts. He was a black hole of annoyance, absorbing all of Dylan’s negativity and converting it into… what? Amusement? Affection? Dylan shuddered at the thought.
He spent the next hour in the bathroom. He had decided on his next move. Hogging the bathroom. It was a classic roommate annoyance. And, for good measure, he would hide Jun’s shampoo again. This time, somewhere truly unfindable. He locked the door. He turned on the shower, letting the water run hot, filling the room with steam. He didn’t get in. He just sat on the edge of the tub, scrolling through his phone.
He heard Jun knock. A light tap. "Dyl? Are you in there?"
Dylan stayed silent. He waited.
"Dylan, I need to brush my teeth," Jun’s voice came again, a little louder.
Dylan smirked, and he continued to ignore Jun, scrolling through TikTok. He could hear Jun pacing outside. He imagined Jun’s growing irritation, and it brought him a sense of satisfaction. This was working. This had to be working.
Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Dylan checked the time. He had been in there for forty-five minutes. He heard another knock, this one heavier. "Dylan, come on. I know you’re not showering for this long. What are you doing?"
Dylan still didn't respond. He heard a muffled sigh. Then, silence. Had Jun given up? Had he gone to the other bathroom? Success.
After a full hour, Dylan finally emerged from the bathroom. He walked out, towel draped over his shoulder, a picture of innocence. Jun was sitting on the couch in the living room, a knowing smile on his face.
"Ah, Dyl," Jun said, his voice soft, almost fond. "There you are. I was wondering if you’d ever come out."
Dylan walked past him, heading for his room. "Just having a long shower."
"Right," Jun replied, his smile widening.
Dylan walked off towards his bedroom. When he entered, his eyes immediately fell on his bed. Something was on it. A small pile of snacks and a note.
Dylan approached his bed slowly and picked up the note first. His eyes scanned the familiar handwriting.
For my favourite grump <3
Beneath the note, neatly arranged on his duvet, were snacks. Dylan’s favourite. The limited-edition chocolate biscuits he loved, and next to them sat the imported fruit jellies that he had been craving for weeks. Jun had gone out and bought them. For him.
Dylan stared at the snacks. Then at the note, and then back at the snacks. His face burned. His attempts at being unbearable had, once again, completely backfired. Jun had not been driven away at all.
If it wasn't bad enough that Jun was ignoring his efforts to be unbearable, now he was actively turning them into acts of his own kindness.
Dylan’s plan was a disaster.
Step 2 had not only failed but had somehow managed to backfire in the most spectacularly annoying way possible.
How could one person be so immune to spite? How could Jun take every single act of deliberate annoyance and twist it into something… thoughtful? Dylan’s stomach churned in anger and confusion. He had wanted Jun to be irritated, to be annoyed, and to finally leave him alone. Instead, Jun had turned it right back on him and bought him snacks. It was maddening.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the snacks across the room. He wanted to do anything to release the building frustration. It wasn't fair. He'd been so sure this was all going to work out in his favour.
He took a few shaky breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. This was not how he operated. Usually, he was calm, collected, observing. Jun had shattered all of that.
He stumbled backwards, collapsing onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing. Jun’s face flashed in his thoughts, yet again. Even now, when he wasn't even there, Jun wouldn't leave him alone. It was absolutely infuriating. Dylan rolled onto his side, a muffled groan escaping him.
After a few minutes of letting himself drown in turmoil, Dylan pushed himself up. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped. He could fix this, he wasn't giving up yet. Time to upgrade the plan.
He reached for his notebook, which lay on his bedside table. He flipped it open to the page outlining his 'Jun-Free Life' steps.
His eyes scanned the previous entry.
5 Steps to a Jun-Free Life
Step 1: ignore Jun completely
Edit: Step 1 failed. He’s like a golden retriever… but with a microphone
He laughed bitterly. If only that had been the end of it. If only Jun had simply been an annoying golden retriever. He was something far more insidious. He was a golden retriever who brought you gifts after you tried to kick him.
Step 2: Be an unbearable roommate
Beneath this step, he wrote his next note:
Edit: Somehow made him more annoying. He bought me snacks
Jun had taken Dylan’s attempts at being unbearable and turned them into opportunities for whatever this was.
So, Dylan needed a new approach. Something that Jun could not possibly twist. Something that would genuinely make Jun leave him alone. He needed to provoke him, to truly piss him off.
Step 3: Piss him off until he avoids me
This time it would be different. This time it was going to work.
~
Dylan spent the next few days meticulously planning his next step. Every interaction became a potential battle, and he aimed to strike at Jun’s core. His effortless charm, his relentless optimism, his craving for a spotlight. Dylan would be sharp-tongued, cutting, ice-cold. His goal was clear. He would make Jun’s smile waver, causing him to become genuinely angry.
The first opportunity came during dance practice. They were navigating a difficult formation, bodies weaving in and out, close enough for accidental contact. As Jun moved past him, Dylan acted. He extended his arm with just enough intent, a controlled shove. Jun stumbled, making a surprised sound, before quickly regaining his balance. He turned, looking at Dylan, his wide grin momentarily gone, replaced by confusion.
Dylan made direct eye contact. He offered no apology. He continued the choreography as a small surge of satisfaction went through him. This was a start. Jun was annoyed. Not entertained this time.
Later that day, Dylan took his war to the digital world. He opened his Instagram, going directly to Jun’s profile. He scrolled through the endless stream of selfies, updates, and adoring comments. His finger paused over the 'block' button. It felt extreme. It felt childish. But it was entirely necessary for his plan to work. He pressed it. Jun Tangsakultham was now erased from his online existence. Dylan waited, checking his own profile for any immediate repercussions from Jun. Nothing. A good sign.
He watched Jun in the common room later, scrolling through his phone. Dylan watched from a distance. Jun’s brow furrowed slightly. He scrolled back up, then down again. Then his head lifted, his eyes scanning the room, as if searching for something, or someone. Bingo.
The next day, Dylan began the verbal attacks. He sought out Jun directly after a vocal warm-up. Jun was laughing with Nano, his head thrown back, a picture of untroubled happiness. Dylan walked straight up to them, breaking into their conversation.
"Your flirting is pathetic," Dylan declared, his voice cutting through Jun’s laughter like a knife. He watched Jun’s face. His laughter abruptly stopped. Nano looked from Dylan to Jun, his eyes wide with surprise.
Jun’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of genuine astonishment. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Dylan continued. "It’s tired. Predictable. Honestly, it’s just sad. You think anyone actually falls for that act?"
Jun’s eyes narrowed. The amusement had vanished, replaced by genuine irritation. "Someone’s grumpy today. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Dylan?"
"Seriously," Dylan retorted, ignoring Jun’s deflection. "It’s a desperate plea for attention. You’re transparent, and everyone sees it."
Jun’s jaw tightened. He took a step closer, his voice dropping. "You really want to go there?"
"Oh, I’m already there," Dylan replied, meeting Jun’s gaze without flinching. This was the reaction he desired. True anger.
Nano, sensing the conflict about to cause a full-out war, stepped back, looking visibly nervous. "Guys, maybe…"
Jun ignored Nano's attempt at de-escalation, taking a step towards Dylan. "You think you’re so clever, don’t you? So above it all."
"At least I’m not fake," Dylan shot back, the words laced with a bitter edge. He saw a brief, unexpected flicker in Jun’s eyes, a genuine hurt that he hadn’t anticipated. It was fleeting, quickly masked by Jun. But Dylan had seen it, and a pang of guilt struck him. He'd meant to cause anger, not hurt him.
Jun’s face transformed. The anger melted away, and he smiled that infuriating grin again. He tilted his head. "Ohhh, I get it. This is foreplay for you, isn’t it?"
Dylan’s pulse stuttered. "What?"
"You heard me," Jun smirked. "All this yelling, the drama. You’re clearly trying to seduce me."
"I will throw a chair at you."
Jun’s laughter bounced around the room. "Admit it. You like winding me up." His grin turned wicked. "You want me so bad."
Dylan’s hands clenched, and his face turned ruby red. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Jun was supposed to be pissed, not flirt harder. And now Dylan was the one pissed off.
Nano groaned, covering his face. "I can’t watch this."
Jun winked at him. "Sure, you can. It’s educational. You can learn how all the best romances start."
Dylan stared at him, utterly speechless. And Nano now looked at Jun with concern. "He’s lost it," Nano muttered to himself.
Over the next few days, Dylan persisted in his attempts. He would deliberately argue with him in group discussions, even when Jun’s point was clearly valid. He would make sarcastic comments about Jun’s singing during practice. He would leave passive-aggressive notes on the fridge about Jun’s messiness. Each time, Jun would respond with intensified flirting. And Dylan’s frustration grew with every failed attempt.
He tried to block Jun on other social media platforms, only to find Jun messaging him through group chats, or even through Nano’s phone. Jun was inescapable. Dylan would delete the messages, block the new accounts, and then Jun would find another way. It was an exhausting game, and Dylan was clearly losing.
One evening, Dylan returned to the apartment after a particularly hard rehearsal. He was tired, hungry, and drained from a day spent trying to outmanoeuvre Jun. He kicked off his shoes, heading straight for his room, and pushed his door open.
Something white lay on the floor, just in front of the door. A folded piece of paper. Dylan frowned. He picked it up, seeing that someone had left a note. His name was scrawled on the front in Jun’s handwriting, again.
Dylan’s stomach clenched as he unfolded it.
Funny thing about blocking people, it just makes me find more creative ways to talk to you. You can't get rid of your favourite bandmate that easily. ;) - J
The notes started appearing regularly after that. Small, handwritten letters, slipped under Dylan’s door. Sometimes they contained silly observations about their day. Sometimes they were compliments about his rap lyrics. Sometimes they were just a little doodle.
Dylan would find them in the morning, or when he returned from the studio. He would pick them up, read them, and then, with a frustrated sigh, crumple them and toss them into his bin (and then fish them out later to save in his notebook). But they kept coming. Jun was persistent.
His plan to provoke Jun into leaving him alone had not only failed, but it had opened a new, even more irritating, line of communication. Dylan was cornered.