Chapter Text
Kim Juhoon had always been considered extraordinary.
Child-model, mathematics genius, speaker of multiple languages, player of a variety of instruments–and all by the age of ten. One couldn’t ignore his skill on the soccer field, either–or any sport for that matter. He had always been in some sort of spotlight since the moment he could understand language, whether it was in the classroom, at extended family dinners, or during sports festivals at school.
Some people would grow a big head from it. Eyes looking at them whenever they walked into the room. Classmates straining their necks and dancing en pointe just to take a glance at the top of their head. Team captains brawling with each other to get them on their team for gym class. Praise and compliments falling out of everyone’s mouths, and being placed on a pedestal from the moment they could walk.
Some people would absolutely abhor it. People constantly sizing them up in jealousy, whispering under their breaths that they weren’t that special. The lack of privacy or moments of silence, cameras and fake smiles flashing alike in the need for their attention. The busy schedules with spare moments of rest. Seeing more photos of themselves plastered in kid’s clothing stores and random billboards than in their own home.
But Juhoon didn’t fall in either of those categories. To him, everything he had done–the modeling, the soccer practices after school, the math and music competitions–were just things he had to do. It wasn’t like it was particularly hard, and he was still given time to live a ‘normal’ childhood. He could do it all because he was good-looking, talented, and athletic, and if he wasn’t any of those, then he wouldn’t have had to do them. That was all there was to it, nothing more and nothing less.
Maybe he was humble, or maybe he just didn’t care. Life was good to him—he had good parents, a comfortable lifestyle, and a large pile of money from paychecks he had gotten as a child to fall back on if he ever needed it.
And he had Martin, who had been his best friend since childhood. Where Juhoon was athletic and quiet, Martin was clumsy and loud. Where Juhoon was picked first for team sports, Martin was picked last, because no matter how tall he was, he was almost humorously bad at basketball. Most people wouldn’t believe in such an unlikely duo, but the two made it work. When Martin needed an anchor for his tendency to overthink, Juhoon was there to hold him in place. And when Juhoon craved genuine connection and fun in his life, he knew he could find it in Martin. The fact that being near Martin meant that Juhoon would stop being the sole recipient of everyone’s attention didn't hurt, either. Martin simply took up all the space in a room, both physically and metaphorically. Juhoon couldn’t imagine his best friend being anybody else.
So, in the grand scheme of things, Juhoon figured a little attention here and there wasn’t something he couldn’t handle.
That was until the last few months of his senior year of high school.
He had picked up a modeling project a few months before senior year ended. The plan was this: make a little more money to help pay for his college tuition and lessen the burden on his parents, tolerate a little more attention from his peers, and then finally grab his diploma and leave.
Juhoon had no idea it would come to this. The project hadn’t meant his face would only be plastered on your typical store front. No, it also meant billboards, fashion magazines, and even video ads. But that wasn’t the problem—Juhoon knew all this when he took on the job. He thought he was ready for it. However, the project, which was supposed to be his first and last one since he had entered high school, had blown up, and now the subtle, confused glances of recognition from people who no doubt were wondering to themselves why he looked so familiar to them had turned into full blown gaping on the streets. Which, all things considered, still wasn’t horrible. It wasn’t going to stop him from being able to graduate, head off to college with Martin, study medicine like he had always wanted—because he was a bit of a nerd, sue him—and experience college life.
But he had started to receive some seriously odd attention from admirers on the streets, and had even found fan mail in his schoolbags once or twice. These were all things he continued to tolerate. It was a little more overwhelming, sure, but it was still tolerable, and the money made it worth it. But when an obsessive fan somehow nearly crashed his graduation, Juhoon could physically feel the thread of his patience snap for the first time in his eighteen years of life.
Martin, of course, thought it was hilarious.
“Dude, you’re- you’re like Justin Bieber or something. Harry Styles, even. Or just Prince Harry. The freaking prince of freaking Britain himself.” He’d said, doubling over in laughter.
The two were in Martin’s room the day after their graduation ceremony, Juhoon having slept over after a truly stressful day.
Ordinarily, Juhoon would have let it slide, but this was not an ordinary situation. At all. He had been told by his manager that he would have to take a gap year until the temporary, but intense wave of fame died over and he could live his normal life again. He never would have even humored such an absurd idea if it weren’t for his mother’s worried eyes and his father’s furrowed brows. Goodbye university, goodbye academics, and goodbye freedom. He sighed, buried his face into Martin’s pillow, and groaned into it.
“Dude, but seriously. You’re totally exaggerating.” Martin said, having finally stopped laughing at the lack of humor from his best friend. His face was still incredibly red from laughter, though. “It’s only a year! It’ll go by before you know it.”
Martin grinned toothily. “And,” he said,“I promise I won’t replace you with a new best friend.”
Juhoon revealed half his face from the pillow and smiled at his friend’s poor, but sincere attempt at cheering him up. “As if you could.”
And that was that.
After a whole year of sulking around his hometown with nobody but his turtle Choco for genuine company, binging a ton of anime he never even thought he would be into, and constantly FaceTimeing with Martin, Juhoon was ready.
He bounced his legs up and down in his car seat when his parents drove him to campus, which, by Juhoon standards, meant that he was practically itching to jump out of his seat and get ready to take off into the sky. His phone dinged with a notification, and he gratefully pulled it out his pocket so his fidgety hands would have something to be occupied with.
martini: WHAT’S YOUR ETA
jju: five minutes
martini: I’M SO EXCITED HOLY SHIT
Juhoon grinned and pocketed his phone. Martin had arrived on campus before Juhoon so that he could properly move in his bulky instruments before the campus got too crowded with returning students. They wouldn’t be rooming together this year because Martin had filed for a three-person suite while Juhoon was stuck with a double, but it wasn’t like the two had to see each other 24/7 anyway—they were already joined at the hips. Besides, they’d be living in the same building. A single elevator ride would take them to each other in no time.
What did throw Juhoon off, however, was the fact that his roommate would be another second-year. It had been under his housing assignment when he checked: a bold Chao Yufan, Second Year Undergraduate. He had expected his roommate to be a fellow first-year, but he supposed it didn’t really change anything. Martin had also confirmed that he had no idea who this Chao Yufan person was. Juhoon just hoped he would be a clean guy who he could quietly coexist with. He was still finally at university after the longest, most boring year of his life. There wasn’t much that could ruin that.
“Jjuuu!!” Martin, 6’3, blonde, and with a large guitar case slung across his back, was impossible to not notice. A number of other students glanced startlingly at him, and while first-years dropped their jaws in astonishment, the rest just looked away, as if it was normal to see what they were seeing now.
He’s only been here a year and he’s already made such a presence for himself. Juhoon smiled to himself. Sometimes he thought that fame had found the wrong person between the two of them.
There was zero resistance from Juhoon as Martin crashed his long frame into him, his long limbs slinging across Juhoon loosely as Juhoon felt the breath knock out of his lungs. It wasn’t even a proper hug–it was more like a collision of limbs, angular body parts, and physical force, but Juhoon didn’t mind in the slightest–he had missed his best friend, and the accumulated excitement and fondness spilled over and out of him in a loud laugh.
Martin untangled himself from Juhoon with a large grin, turning towards his parents.
“Hello, Ajumma, Ajeossi!” He says, with a bow.
Juhoon’s parents, who loved Martin just as much as he did, stepped forward to exchange their pleasantries, his mother exclaiming that she swore Martin had grown taller yet again, and his father tippy toeing to ruffle Martin’s hair, somehow making it even messier than it already was.
“Take care of Juhoon for us, Martin-ah.” Juhoon’s mother says.
“Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble!” Juhoon’s father laughs.
Juhoon just scoffs with a smile from where he is behind the car, tugging his suitcases out of the trunk. Both his parents know he isn’t prone to any sort of trouble–hasn’t been since early childhood. He doesn’t go looking for trouble, it usually ends up finding him.
“I’ll do my best!” Martin straightens his back and throws up a hand in mock salute.
Juhoon’s parents give the two one last round of hugs, and then they leave.
“Let’s go! Today, I’ll be known as Martin the tour guide.” Martin is practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of showing his best friend around. They both pretend that Juhoon hasn’t already visited campus during their senior year of high school.
They walk through campus, Juhoon lugging his suitcases behind him as Martin excitedly points out every building.
“And that’s the dining hall. The food isn’t great, but it’s edible. They never tell us exactly when they’ll have melon bread because people will line up for them and they’ll be gone within minutes, but I think I’ve figured out the pattern. See, if you analyze the dates, they usually have them out the second Friday of every month and..”
“That’s the music building! I'm there a lot for my classes, but they also have private recording rooms for free use, how cool is that? I think one of my suitemates is going to minor in music as well, I actually met him during the music program this Summer! His name was Seonghyeon..”
“Ah, that’s the math building. My least favorite building by far. You can even sense the bad energy from outside. Oh, but I bet you’re excited to be in there, huh, you geek. I can’t believe I’m still required to take a math class to get my degree. That’s just crazy to me. I mean, I thought I’d be able to leave it behind once I graduated high school, and I’m a MUSIC major on top of that..”
Juhoon was half listening, half tuning Martin out in pursuit of making his own observations of the campus. The campus was becoming more alive as more and more students arrived on campus to move in, and other new first-years had also begun touring in packs, oohing and aahing at the buildings.
Martin and Juhoon had both chosen this university because of its exceptional academics and arts program–truly a mixing ground for students of any background and passion. It was the perfect choice for the both of them, and it was not too far from home. So far, no one had given Juhoon more than a few second glances, and he chalked the looks up to the inevitable effect being next to Martin had. He couldn’t help but be relieved–he was beyond excited to finally be on campus, and–
Holy fucking shit.
Juhoon suddenly can’t hear anything, which is strange, because he swears Martin was just rambling on about the dance studio on campus, and it makes no sense for the excited chattering from the students around them to have just stopped completely. Something louder than his friend, the students, and the loud traffic surrounding the campus at this moment is drowning everything out, deafening his own ears.
Ah, it’s my own heartbeat.
Because standing right outside the dance studio, about a hundred and fifty feet away, is the most—there’s no other way to put it—extraordinary person Juhoon has ever seen in his life.
He’s been in makeup chairs and fitting rooms and stood on award pedestals and stages and more, but he’s never been doing it alone. Juhoon has grown up being extraordinary, but he’s also grown up surrounded by others who were extraordinary. He’s met other child models and geniuses and prodigies who he had shared attention with, but this person? This person was already the most extraordinary person Juhoon thought could ever exist.
Shaggy dyed hair falls over the boy’s forehead, stopping right above his eyes and emphasizing his sharp features. A nose, as if crafted by a master sculptor, perfectly accentuates the boy’s piercing eyes and eyebrows. He’s wearing a slightly cropped shirt that shows off–oh man–just the very bottom of his stomach, which means Juhoon can see his slightly toned and incredibly thin waist. Even from afar, Juhoon can make out the unmistakable glint of ear piercings. Everything about him screams gorgeous and unique, but somehow the boy seems to fit right in, like he has carved himself a space on this campus, like he knows exactly who he is and he doesn’t care if other people agree. Right now, he’s looking down at his phone, as if waiting for someone.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
Juhoon can’t even be embarrassed at his poor range of vocabulary right now, and he sure couldn’t give a damn that students who had been walking behind him were throwing him annoyed looks for suddenly stopping in his tracks. If they saw what he was seeing, they would stop too.
“Juhoon?” Martin asks, looking down at his friend. “What’s wrong?”
“I-” Juhoon’s mouth is suddenly dry, and his vocal chords don’t seem to be working.
This has literally never happened to me before, what the fuck. This must be what Choco feels like all the time.
Before Juhoon can open his mouth again at another weak attempt at conveying his thoughts, Martin follows his line of sight to the extraordinary guy outside the dance studio.
“Oh! That’s James-hyung! What’re you gaping at James-hyung for, you weirdo? Unless..” Martin’s eyes suddenly light up with mischief. “Wait a minute, there’s no way you-”
“James-hyung!” Before Martin can finish whatever his mind has conjured up at that moment, a loud, boisterous boy in a blue Adidas tracksuit who has just broken the sound barrier runs up to the gorgeous person–James–and throws his arms around him in an excited hug. Right behind him is another boy in a striped top, who is a lot less loud but is also happily throwing his arms around James with a grin breaking across his face.
Something odd immediately fills Juhoon’s chest at the sight of the small grin on James’ face as the two boys bury him with their combined affection.
“Wait! Hey! That’s Seonghyeon! Seong-” Martin begins. But before he can finish, Juhoon grabs the back of Martin’s hood–or whatever the highest point of Martin he can reach is–and yanks. The action doesn’t so much as stop Martin than it does shock him, but it works. Martin stops yelling immediately with an ungraceful squawk.
“Hey, Juhoon, what the-” Martin turns around, an offended look on his face and complaints already waiting to fall from his tongue, but he stops at the look on Juhoon’s face.
“We can’t- We can’t go over there right now.” Juhoon manages to rasp out. It takes Herculean power to even get those words out. His heart is still beating quickly and his mind is scrambled and what the fuck is happening to him right now? “I’m, um. I need the bathroom. I’m hungry.”
Martin observes his friend, and, taking pity on him, doesn’t even point out how little sense Juhoon has just made. “Alright, we can go to the dining hall for now, so you can, uh, do both of those things.”
When Juhoon has finally treated the dryness in his mouth with some water from the drink dispensers, Martin leans forward and folds his hands in front of him on the table, suddenly in business mode.
They’re at the back of the dining hall, which Juhoon is already liking—it features a high, glass ceiling for enough sunlight to peek through to give the cafeteria a bright, warm look, but not enough for it to be blinding. Several different stations with a variety of food to choose from make up the middle of the dining hall, and potted plants are everywhere to tie the look together. The tables shine with the bright light reflecting off of them from the lights, and the chairs–four of them at the table the two are sitting at–accomodate Juhoon comfortably. As comfortably as they can for a boy who is still losing his mind, anyway.
“So.” Martin begins, “What was that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right, right.” Martin raises his eyebrows and waits for Juhoon to raise his glass to his lips before he says, “Oh, hey James-hyung!”
Juhoon chokes on his water. He splutters and coughs as he turns around and confirms that James is, in fact, not there. Actually, there are barely any people around at this time, everyone still busy with moving in. Even worse, Martin’s own back is facing the back of the dining hall, so even if James had somehow walked in, Juhoon would have seen him before Martin had. He can’t believe he fell for that.
“You’re evil.” Juhoon hisses, once he has stopped coughing. “How do you know that- that- James anyway?” The name feels foreign on Juhoon’s tongue, but in a good way. James. A perfectly perfect name for a perfectly perfect person– what?
“James-hyung is a dancer! He also studies music on the side—we’ve had one or two classes together last year. He’s amazing.” Martin gushes. “Best dancer and choreographer I’ve ever met. And he has such an amazing sense of style. I’d actually be jealous if I didn’t also have great style myself. Oh by the way, he’s only a second-year this year, though he’s a year older than us. He took a gap year, too—must have something to do with being an international student.”
Juhoon quietly absorbs all the information Martin is giving him. James already sounds even cooler than Juhoon had previously given him credit for. Of course he does. Juhoon has never been this entranced by a person his whole life. He immediately decides that he has to meet James personally, but preferably when he still has his wits upon him.
Martin has that mischievous look in his eyes again. “Why the interest? You’ve never been so interested in anyone else before.” He lowers his voice. “Could it be that you have a crush..?”
Juhoon has no idea how to respond to that. In his nineteen years of life, he’s never once had these feelings—whatever they are—for someone, let alone have a crush. It’s not entirely from lack of interest, or being busy with his own goals, or anything else. It has just never happened. Not that Juhoon particularly minded, though. He always figured it might happen eventually, but still wasn’t too affected by the possibility that it never would.
But it looks like that moment has finally come. Juhoon genuinely has no idea why James has him feeling this way—and just by existing, no less. The man is extremely attractive, sure, but Juhoon has met attractive people before. He’s been called attractive his whole life, and he’s pretty sure the concept of attractiveness isn’t new to him—far from new, actually. So why is he feeling like this?
“I don’t know.” Juhoon replies honestly, with a sigh. “I’ve literally never felt like this before.” He lays his head in his arms with a groan.
Martin’s eyes soften.
“There, there. I was just teasing.” He starts patting Juhoon on the head. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
But before Juhoon can say anything in response, someone literally pounces on Martin from behind. The fact that anyone was approaching the two in the first place had gone unnoticed by Juhoon, whose vision was obscured by his arms.
“ARGHH, WHAT THE HELL.” Martin screams, scared. Juhoon raises his head from his arms in shock.
Laughter breaks over from the person who has just jumped on Martin, and Juhoon recognizes it as one of the boys who was hugging James earlier. The other one—the blue tracksuit—is right behind him, looking at the scene with an indiscernible squint on his face.
“Seonghyeon! It’s you! My producer buddy!” Martin exclaims. He gets up and throws his arms around Seonghyeon, dwarfing the laughing boy with his stature. Juhoon swears he sees the tracksuit boy’s eye twitch a little at that, but he’s unsure.
“This is Juhoon. My best friend Juhoon! And you must be Keonho.” Martin is almost beside himself with excitement at his worlds colliding, and Juhoon, although still a little out of his mind, tries his best to smile at the duo, not wanting to ruin this for his best friend. He also takes the chance to get a proper look at the two.
At first glance, Juhoon is surprised by how similar the two seem, not just in their physical characteristics, but also in their energy. Seonghyeon and Keonho are the exact same height and of similar stature, though Keonho is slightly broader around the shoulders. They both are, Juhoon can recognize, very attractive people, though while Keonho falls in the handsome category, Seonghyeon seems to fall in the pretty category. They almost seem like two halves of a whole. Seonghyeon waves shyly at Juhoon with a smile. Juhoon likes him immediately.
“It’s nice to meet you two. Seonghyeon has told me a lot about you, Martin-hyung.” Keonho grins at Martin and Juhoon. His hands are still in his pockets.
“Really? What’d he tell you?” Martin’s eyes sparkles. He moves his guitar case from where it was sitting beside him, and gestures for the boys to sit, but before Seonghyeon can sit down next to Martin, Keonho claims the chair with surprising speed. Seonghyeon ends up next to Juhoon instead.
Seonghyeon laughs. “I said loads of good things, I promise.” He starts listing off his fingers. “Like how you got us kicked out of the music rooms once or twice because of how loud you were, the disgusting kebabs you got for us that one time, how messy your hair gets in the mornings, and-”
“Okay, okay I get it! Jeez, Seonghyeon, and here I was just telling Juhoon just how excited I was to share a suite with you again.” Martin pouts.
Juhoon watches Keonho’s eye twitch again. Wow, totally don’t want to mess with that guy, he thinks.
“Uh. I assume you’re the third suitemate?” Juhoon asks him, trying to pacify the boy. “That’s great.”
Keonho nods. “I am, though I had originally wanted to share the suite with James-hyung.” A loud sigh. “Things don’t always go the way you want them to. I was lucky enough to at least have my Seonghyeon, I guess.” There’s an emphasis on the way Keonho says ‘my Seonghyeon’, but Juhoon’s brain kicks into overdrive as soon as James is mentioned again. Right, these two knew James, and were clearly very close to him. Juhoon can’t help but wonder at the details of their relationship.
Seonghyeon shoots his friend an unimpressed look. Keonho sighs.
“Sorry. It was a long ride to campus. I’m still a little tired. Very pleased to make your acquaintance. Let’s get along.” He says like he’s reciting a script, finishing with a grin.
“I was surprised to see you with James-hyung! How do you two know him? Where is he now?” Martin asks. Juhoon mentally grins in victory. Leave it to Martin to ask the good questions.
“I met James-hyung at a dance studio back home when I was in middle school. He used to teach me how to dance.” Keonho cuts in. “And Seonghyeon and I have been friends since we were six. James-hyung had to go meet up with his other friends. But that’s enough about us. What about you guys? What’s your deal? How come Juhoon-hyung is in our year despite being a year older?”
Juhoon thinks Keonho is getting a little ahead of himself, and there’s clearly an unneeded level of possession in his answers about James, but Martin speaks on his behalf before Juhoon can decide whether or not to voice this opinion.
“Juhoon had to take a gap year because of, uh, reasons. But don’t let that fool you! He’s the smartest person I know. He was valedictorian back home, you know. And he’s studying medicine now!” He says with pride.
Seongyeon lets out a small “Woah”, and even Keonho can’t keep the respect out of his voice when he says “Cool.”
“Thanks. What’re you two majoring in?” Juhoon asks, mostly out of politeness, but also to get the attention off himself.
“Engineering, with a minor in music,” says Seonghyeon. “Though Martin-hyung here has been trying his best to convince me to just swap to music.” He grins at Martin.
“Econ. And I swim, too,” Keonho says curtly. “I’m a great swimmer, right Seonghyeon?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Undefeated in the pool since we were eight. He’s like the human embodiment of a seal,” Seonghyeon agrees. Despite the teasing remark, Keonho grins at the acknowledgement, a real one that contorts his face completely and almost makes him look like the sun. It’s the most genuine smile he’s had so far.
Oh, so that’s what this is, Juhoon thinks.
“Have you guys moved in yet? James-hyung helped us move into the suite before we separated,” Seonghyeon says. “Your instruments took up half the living room, Martin-hyung!”
And just like that, Keonho’s grin is gone again.
“Oops, I’ll get that sorted out as soon as I get back, I promise. Right after I help Juhoon move in.” Martin stretches his long limbs out. “Who’s hungry? I think the dessert bar has hand-made acai bowls today..”
Seonghyeon’s eyes light up at that, and the two boys scramble off to get their acai bowls. Juhoon stays back, content with his glass of water. Keonho, mouth agape, looks like he wants to go after the boys, but after a moment of war with himself, he decides to sit back instead with a huff.
“You like him,” Juhoon says as soon as the two boys are out of earshot, never one to pull his punches.
“What?!” Keonho gawks at him.
“Seonghyeon, I mean. You like him,” Juhoon clarifies. “It’s really obvious, actually.”
“I don’t like him! I just. Ugh. Whatever.” Keonho runs his hands through his hair. And then he does it again. And again. “Augh.”
Juhoon hums.
“It’s just,” Keonho says. “We’ve known each other since we were six, you know, way longer than I’ve known James-hyung. He’s the only one who’s been with me forever, especially when noona went to college. And I know I can be annoying, loud, and rude sometimes, but Seonghyeon stays with me anyway. He’s my other half. I don’t know what I’d do if he randomly decided he didn’t like me anymore.”
Juhoon really didn’t anticipate the backstory, but for Martin’s sake, he says, “I see. I know what you mean. Martin has been with me through thick and thin, but I’ve never been afraid of him leaving. He needs me, and I need him. That’s all there is to it. I bet Seonghyeon feels the exact same way about you, too. And please be nicer to Martin. Despite how he looks, he’s actually very easily hurt.”
The tension in Keonho’s shoulders loosen a little. “I guess you’re right. But maybe I should just lock Seonghyeon up somewhere, just in case.”
“Definitely do not do that,” Juhoon says. “And it looks like you don’t have to worry at all about being forgotten. Look.” Juhoon points his chin towards Seonghyeon and Martin. They’re walking back to their table, both with two acai bowls in his hands.
Keonho grins widely as Seonghyeon sits down and hands him one.
“Sorry,” he mumbles to Martin, before digging into his dessert.
Martin hands Juhoon's own bowl to him, confused.
Juhoon just smiles into his bowl.
Juhoon stands outside Room 555 with his suitcases.
After they had split up with the other two—who had said they were going to continue exploring campus together—and were finally on their way to Juhoon’s dorm, Martin had suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead. “Oh, crap, Jju, I totally forgot. I’ve got a meeting with my academic advisor right now,” Martin says sheepishly.
“Oh. That’s alright,” Juhoon had said, ever the nonchalant one.
“I’m sorry! You know where the dorms are, right? I’ve gotta go! I’ll make it up to you later, I swear!” Before Juhoon can get another word in, Martin breaks into a run, and is already gone after two blinks.
Juhoon takes a deep breath, then turns his key into the door and unlocks it. He walks past the bathroom and the small hallway to see that the bedroom is.. empty. Juhoon can’t tell if he’s relieved or not. His roommate isn’t there, but from the way his side of the room looks, he’s clearly already moved in.
The room is nice. It’s spacious and carpeted, and both sides of the room are already prefurnished with a bed, a closet, and a desk. There are embedded shelves on the walls, Juhoon’s above his bed while his roommate’s is above his desk. A large window sits opposite the entryway, separating the two sides of the room. But while his roommate’s bed is placed parallel to the wall and right next to the window, Juhoon’s bed is perpendicular to the wall, placing his own desk between their two beds.
Juhoon briefly skims the roommate’s side of the room. Posters of several different bands and anime make up the walls of his roommate’s side of the room, and there are also a variety of photos taped up, most of them seemingly of friends and family. His roommate’s bedsheets are a dark gray, and on top of his bed is an assortment of stuffed animals. His shelf is already a mess of different books and manga, and Juhoon can’t help but notice the trophies and medals on there, as well. The rest of the shelf is loaded with various snacks ranging from candy, pudding, and various different kinds of chips. When Juhoon checks the shared refrigerator, he sees several cartons of chocolate milk.
With nothing else to inspect, Juhoon begins to unpack all his things. His plain, white bedsheets and lack of decoration makes his side of the room look wildly empty in comparison to his roommate’s side of the room. While textbooks and other informational readings fill out his shelf, they look incredibly depressing in comparison to his roommate’s colorful manga and books.
Ah, whatever. I’ve never been much of a decorator anyway.
Even so, Juhoon doesn’t forget to tape up some photos he’s brought from home, mostly of him with his family, Choco, and Martin. Speaking of photos, when Juhoon sits back on his bed for the first time, across from his roommate’s desk, he notices that along with an assortment of figurines and other little hijinks on his roommate’s desk, there’s a framed photo of three boys.
The boy in the middle is dressed in graduation attire, and he holds his diploma up in the air in triumph. The boys at each of his sides are standing proudly next to him, grinning into the camera as if they were his parents. The boys look oddly like Keonho and Seonghyeon, but just a little younger.
Wait, no way.
Juhoon stands up and whips his head to the photos on his roommate’s side of the walls, zoning in on the people in them. That’s when he realizes—most of the photos are of the same three people—Seonghyeon, Keonho, and-
Juhoon’s blood turns cold in his veins. His heartbeat speeds up exponentially.
There’s no way he’s my roomma-
Distantly, through the rushing of blood in his ears and his own loud heartbeat, Juhoon hears the door to his shared dorm click open.