Read You Like a Magazine (2/6) [for shrdmdnssftw]
one | part two | three | four | five | six
The business ad building is a fifteen minute grunt-sweat-try-not-to-die cross between a jog and a run, but it's worth it to thunder into the cafeteria and whack Jackson upside the head as hard as he can when he sees him. From the mocking smirk on his face, Jackson doesn't regret it one bit, so Jinyoung raises his hand to give him another smack.
"Ow, stop, I have a match next week, don't hit me," Jackson yelps, shielding himself with Mark's Stiglitz textbook. Mark rolls his eyes and pulls Jinyoung to the seat beside him, if only to save his own valuables.
"Do that again and I'll do more than hit you," Jinyoung threatens, relishing in the way Jackson blanches in his seat.
"You should consider trying out for the wrestling team," Jackson observes, rubbing his arm. "You're, like, really strong even if you look like you're gonna die in a 5k marathon."
"Do we even have a wrestling team?" Mark asks, not really interested in the answer but speaking up anyway so he can go for at least five minutes without Jackson pestering him to socialize.
"Jinyoung can be captain if there isn't," says Jackson, sweetly. "I'm sure he'd be down for pummeling Jaebum into the mattress with his prowess."
For someone in the political department, Jackson is full of crap. "You're gonna start a war someday," Jinyoung informs him. "I just know it."
"You mean a war in your pants," says Jackson, through a mouthful of dumplings. "I think JB's done a pretty good job conquering your territory, all things considered."
"Fuck off," Jinyoung snipes. Only Jackson finds himself hilarious. Maybe Mark, given how he's hiding his face behind his iPad, but Mark is weird sometimes.
"Oh no, we're talking about this," says Jackson. "I don't get why you're so strung up around the pop star. It's not like he's a bad guy."
"If you like him so much, why don't you just go after him," Jinyoung mutters, glaring at all the students walking by. Their lives are so much easier than his, they have no idea.
"True," Jackson concedes, humming under his breath. "He's rich, athletic and hot enough for it. Score."
"Sounds like a total asshole," says Mark, flatly.
"Ten out of ten, would do," Jackson insists. Mark's expression turns even deader. Jinyoung would feel more pity for him if he weren't busy licking his own wounds. "He can't speak Chinese for shit, though," Jackson continues. "My mom will probably cry if I take him home, and then I'd have to translate for them all the time and that's just not my style."
He points his chopsticks at Jinyoung like a rude shit. "Your sisters, on the other hand, will definitely cry if you don't."
"I'll make you cry, preferably in pain," Jinyoung snaps. "And if you say that again about my sisters, I swear--"
"Hey, I'm not the one who had his childhood dreams stolen unjustifiably," says Jackson, raising his hands in surrender.
"Who told you that?" Jinyoung groans. "Was it Youngjae? I'll kill him."
"Stop threatening to kill people, it's so unbecoming," says Jackson.
Mark wrinkles his nose. "Would you rather he did it to you?"
"I used to think I was special, but Jinyoung has enough homicidal tendencies for everyone," says Jackson. A thought comes to him, so sudden and hilarious that he almost doubles over. "Oh my god, if you became an idol, no one would ever know how evil you were, you hypocrite."
Mark joins in on his laughter. Jinyoung steals his iPad in revenge and glowers at it with disdain. "Can you imagine Jinyoung as an idol? He'd hate it."
"I wouldn't," says Jinyoung, menacing tone belying the cheerful chirping of Candy Crush.
"Don't lie!" Jackson half-shouts, toppling over Jinyoung's bag as he grabs at his arm. "You'd have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn and your bandmates will hate you for hogging the bathroom for an hour and you'll never have time to read, ever."
"I don't think idols don't have free time," says Mark, sounding amused even as he scribbles something in the margins of his notebook. "It's not like they're contractually obligated to be tied to the job 24/7."
"Somehow I doubt that," Jackson scoffs. "If they did have lives outside the industry, there'd be more photos of them being smashed at clubs and bars."
"Jinyoung would have a field day with the no dating rule, though," says Mark, the smile on his face barely taking any of the bite out of his teasing. "He'd never have to make up anyone just to get out of hanging out."
"That was one time," Jinyoung sulks.
Jackson boos in response and flicks a balled up tissue at him. Mark shakes his head and pushes Jinyoung back down his seat when he tries to reach for Jackson. "More like all the time."
"Let's be real, though," Jackson accedes, slinging an arm around Jinyoung's hunched shoulders, clearly having the self-preservation instincts of a gnat. "You'd pick being cultured over being sweaty."
"No," Jinyoung snarls, dooming himself to failure when he swipes in the wrong direction. "I'd rather go for being built like a 2PM member than subjecting myself to being friends with you."
"I'm so glad you think I'm refined," is all Jackson takes out of it. Jackson has selective hearing, which is why Jinyoung privately hopes he never enters the Foreign Service, ever. He fears for Hong Kong. "So, like, if Jaebum starts showing up for lunch, does this mean you're gonna hide in the library forever?"
"Yes," says Jinyoung, appalled. "Wait, what? Are you inviting him?" His indignation morphs into terror. "Did you already ask him to hang out?"
"I don't share all my breaks with you guys," says Jackson, defensively. "I'm networking."
Jinyoung eyes Mark. "Who's the business major again?"
"Too much effort," Mark grunts.
"Isn't that what AIESEC is for, though?" Jinyoung points out. "Why don't you just join an org and not actively ruin my life."
"Eh, Mark's already part of it," says Jackson. "That's one less foot in the door I need." He smiles, promising eternal despair to Jinyoung. "Pissing you off is just a bonus."
"I'm so glad we could contribute to your future success and entertainment," says Mark, dryly, looking up just to shoot Jackson an unreadable look. He goes back to thumbing through his notes when Jackson shrugs. Jinyoung's too outraged to bother reading into it.
"It helps to have friends everywhere," says Jackson, waving his chopsticks in the air. It hits one of the passing freshmen, who shoots him a dirty look. Jackson ignores it with as much finesse as he ignores Jinyoung. "Here, you can have my last dumpling. I was saving it for you just in case."
"I'm not taking your pity lunch," Jinyoung sneers. "Not after you've cemented exactly how far your disloyalty extended."
"Okay," says Jackson, not at all remorseful, "just for that, I'm gonna be best friends with your worst nightmare, you jealous bastard."
Jinyoung stands up, half-chucking Mark's iPad at Jackson's chest and grabbing his bag with great feeling. He'd look more indignant if he didn't have Jackson's dumpling unceremoniously shoved to his mouth. As it is, he probably just looks extremely disgruntled and not at all menacing. He chews on the dumpling with as much force as he can.
Unmindful of his frustration, Jackson waves at him cheerfully, managing to keep his voice deceptively light and mockingly supportive. "Text us when you get your head out of your ass!"
"Never," says Jinyoung, and trudges off to his next class.
Jinyoung doesn't text Jackson, not even when, true to form, Jaebum starts sitting with them on their shared breaks. He doesn't always show up, but it's excruciating enough for Jinyoung that Jackson has to make threatening signs at him from across the table to get him to suppress the sour expression on his face.
Jinyoung can't read hand signals, so he's really just dooming himself to failure. Jackson settles for kicking him under the table. Jinyoung kicks back.
"Next time we talk about dogs, stop looking like you're plotting someone's death," is all Mark has to say by way of reprimand. Youngjae raises his hands up and mouths why at the ceiling, having long since given up at reasoning with Jinyoung a long time ago. Youngjae is actually the smartest one of them all.
"I can't help it," says Jinyoung, still smarting from the sharp jab to his side that Jackson delivered when Jaebum had clammed up after Jinyoung had ranted about income inequality and uneven opportunities and what the fuck, where did that come from, weren't they talking about a puppy parade? It hurts like a bitch. "He gets under my skin so easily."
("Haha, aren't social science guys hilarious," Jackson had said, mortified.
"I'm in economics."
"Thank god for that, because you would have sucked in Psychology."
"Right," said Jaebum, and made up a hasty excuse to get to his next class three hours later.)
Jackson's irritated enough to not even make a dirty joke out of that. Instead, he goes back to his game of hangman with Mark, losing on purpose to have the satisfaction of killing off stickman-Jinyoung. "Jinyoung, somewhere under your cold, shriveled heart, I know you still have a soul," says Jackson. "Stop bullying my friend or I swear to god I'll ditch you in the next project and find a way to pair you up with him."
"You wouldn't," says Jinyoung, meekly, but from the decisive set of Jackson's jaw, yes, he totally would.
Jackson, for all his frivolity and jokes, is stubborn and single-minded when he wants to be, which is the absolute worst, in Jinyoung's opinion. Jinyoung tries not to bristle when Jackson pats the back of his hand fondly and says, "This will be harder for you than it is for me," but he does flinch, which makes Jackson smile.
It's not impossible, but it is unbearable for Jinyoung to play nice. Eventually, the pissy retorts and the eye rolling tapers off into sullen poking at his tteokbokk a few days later, giving Mark a run for his money with his silence. Jaebum doesn't visibly recoil, but he at least has enough sense to not push Jinyoung into unwanted conversations. Jackson fills the quiet enough for all of them anyway.
He's ranting about the surprise quiz in class to Jaebum, who's knee-deep in readings that Jinyoung barely recognizes from his own faculty. Jinyoung likes to remind Jackson every now and then that he isn't the center of the universe, and it's the only reason he even butts into the conversation and not at all because Jaebum is most likely too polite to tell Jackson to fuck off and let him study instead. He gives it a few more weeks.
"It was C," Jinyoung interrupts. Jaebum and Jackson trade confused looks, and Jinyoung spears a disposable fork into his food. "The answer to number six, I mean."
Jaebum still looks taken aback at hearing him pipe up, but Jackson's body just collapses against Youngjae, if the annoyed squawk from the younger boy is any indication of it. "Fuck, I got that wrong," Jackson whines. "I need a do over!"
"I don't think Kwon-seonsaengnim will curve your grade, Jackson," says Jinyoung. He turns away from Jaebum, finding his scrutiny way too discomfiting; it makes him feel a little too warm even in his t-shirt. "You're not his favorite."
"He laughs at my jokes," Jackson protests.
"He's too nice to embarrass the foreigner," says Jinyoung. "Also, you sleep in class, don't be delusional."
Jackson kicks up his legs on the table and doesn't budge even when Youngjae pushes his thigh off with a not my damn score, hyung. "Okay, so who's the teacher's pet if not me?"
"Easy," says Jinyoung, pointing at Jaebum. "Him."
The tiny, shell-shocked laugh that escapes Jaebum's mouth makes something in Jinyoung's body clench. He thinks it's his guts groaning in pain and abject misery. "Me?" He says, at the same time that Jackson squawks, "Him? He gets grilled all the time like he's on some up-close and personal interview on that show with the half-naked people in towels!"
"Exactly," says Jinyoung, deadpan.
"I don't even wanna know," says Youngjae, penciling in a note in his homework.
"Hey, he doesn't even talk in class unless he gets called out," says Jackson. "If he and Mark-hyung had classes together, their side of the lecture room would be depressingly quiet."
"I'm right here," Mark pipes up loudly, not even looking cross.
"Irrelevant," Jackson yells. Mark rolls his eyes and shoves a chip into Jackson's mouth. Jackson munches on it without much thought, then decides that Jinyoung's lunch looks even more appetizing, the greedy bastard. Jinyoung glares at him and hunches over to shield his plate.
"I don't think silence is earning me any brownie points," Jaebum points out.
"Huh?" Jinyoung says, distracted by Jackson's hands inching their way towards stealing his food. "Nah, you'll be okay. The professor likes you for more than your face anyway."
He'd meant to add it helps that you have a nice s-line, pop star, but Jackson drops a rice cake into his lap and Jaebum's soft, considering look is lost to Jinyoung's yelling.
He doesn't think much of it for the next few days, which, like all of Jinyoung's thoughtless actions, gets him into even more uncomfortable situations than before. This is what he realizes with sinking horror when he keeps seeing Jaebum at an alarmingly frequent rate, politeness dictating that he should make small talk in front of his other friends. It's like a swirling mass of his ramyeon from lunch, last night's text on Sidel, and the half-finished coffee in his hands when the epiphany strikes at him like an unwanted ghost.
Oh shit, he messages Yugyeom in a bathroom stall that reeks of desperation and the respectable fears of adult men, I think Im Jaebum thinks we're friends now.
??? Yugyeom texts back.
I know, he replies, and buries his face in his hands. I'm too nice for my own good.
Only Yugyeom can make symbols sound so judgmental. ??????????????
At least Jinyoung still has work to console him, which is probably what Bambam has in mind when he messages him a few minutes after his episode in the men's room, because Yugyeom is a talkative little shit and Bambam is a whore for gossip.
Please don't hibernate in the library, Bambam implores, and Jinyoung would feel more touched if he doesn't follow it up with: I still need you to look over my Korean homework every weekend.
Jinyoung rolls his eyes. No wonder you and Jackson get along so well. You're only using me for your own advancement. I'm so hurt.
Don't insult me, hyung, says Bambam, and Jinyoung can't help but crack a smile at that.
It's inevitable that Jaebum will wind up at his workplace at some point. Jinyoung's been preparing for this moment since he's realized that Jackson was serious about establishing himself as the overly outspoken and annoying friend Jaebum will never be able to get rid of (Youngjae's words, not his), but apparently all that time psyching himself up is for naught because the initial revulsion still hits him like a ton of bricks. With great effort, he returns the nod Jaebum gives him with what he thinks is a professional enough smile, and he seems to succeed because no one scurries away to run for the hills in terror. He should be the lead in a drama because Jaebum suspects absolutely nothing.
Or maybe Jaebum's as insensitive as Jackson. That's equally possible.
"I didn't know you were a student assistant here," says Jaebum, glancing around. "Slow day?"
"To be fair, I only started working here because being around Jackson wasn't doing any favors to my emotional well-being," says Jinyoung. He's not sure why he's even explaining himself, but Jaebum seems to think it's funny. He fiddles with his pen and pretends to write something down on a post it. "What are you doing all the way here?"
"Had to get away from my own building," says Jaebum. "It's time for periodic exams so everyone's a bit…" He trails off, then shrugs, impishly. "Unhinged."
"Sounds like law school on LSD," says Jinyoung, rolling his eyes. He doesn't even know what department Jaebum's from, and for all he knows he could be in the humanities, which is a lot closer to the Main Library than other colleges, so he shouldn't be begrudging Jaebum of what should be considered as a common area. Whatever.
"Maybe with a bit more drooling and napping involved," Jaebum jokes. "It's honestly starting to look like death warmed over the place."
"That's what normal college students are supposed to look like," says Jinyoung. The curve of his mouth is starting to twitch. Damn it.
"Like corpses?"
Jinyoung purses his lips. "Sorry we can't all have nice faces like you."
Jinyoung wants to stab himself with how flirtatious it sounds instead of the disdainfully demeaning tone he's going for, and two unmistakable spots of red appear on Jaebum's cheeks. At least Jackson isn't around to watch him humiliate himself. Jinyoung hastily looks down and rips his post it into tiny pieces.
"Thanks, I guess?" Jaebum offers, recovering fairly quickly. Mercifully, he steps away and hefts his bag on his shoulder. "Uh, see you later, then?"
Jinyoung doesn't know how long he stands there, staring at the empty space Jaebum vacated as he replays all of his foot-in-mouth moments with Jaebum starting from day one. It's a spiral of doom, and he's cursed. Surely there should be an end to all of this pain.
He almost knocks over a stapler when someone nudges his shoulder, lost in his distraction. Jimin, the new student assistant, peers at him curiously, then makes a face.
"Why are you scaring the freshmen with your face?" Jimin comments, wrinkling her nose at him. "Did a weird senior hit on you again?"
Jinyoung scowls and pelts her with his shredded post it note. "They'd be blessed to see my face," Jinyoung shoots back. "And stop marking those as overdue, you know they aren't."
"You're no fun, oppa," Jimin says, stepping away and flinging the copy of Statistics for the Social Sciences back into the for-shelving box.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Jaebum work at the table farthest from the full-length glass windows, surrounding himself with textbooks and notes. Philosophy major, probably, he revises in his mind. He doesn't remember if Youngjae even surrounded himself with as much readings, preferring the practical approach instead, but Jaebum might be more of a by-the-book kind of guy than he'd thought. Huh, he thinks. It's strangely more normal than he'd expected.
A few girls approach him and only give up chatting with him once he gives them his autograph, ruining the brief illusion. It sends a spark of irritation fizzing through Jinyoung's nerves, but he's not sure if he's more annoyed by Jaebum or by his fans. He bites his lip and heads into the break room instead.
When he comes back, the girls are gone and Jaebum is wearing his earphones this time. His music is turned up so loud Jinyoung can faintly make out the blaring of a funky girl group song, but Jaebum is too far away for him to pointedly cough and make thinly veiled insults about the well-being of his ears. It's not like he cares.
He plucks a book from the general fiction pile and leafs absently through the novel, bent on ignoring Jaebum as he waits for his tea to steep. He's tried reading Kundera in English before, but Jackson had been the worst translator, going on about how he couldn't understand the point of the novel, Jinyoung, you're so weird, try learning Czech instead of making me do your work for you. He'd ended up hunting down Korean translations online instead. (Also with a bit of help from wiki, but like hell he's admitting that out loud.)
It's a bit easier to follow the English version once he's read the Korean one numerous times. At least when he doesn't understand anything, he can rely on stock knowledge to remember the plot. He's so focused on slogging through the text that he jumps when someone's shadow blocks the light.
"Hey," says Jaebum, startling Jinyoung out of the heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to earth. He looks up to find Jaebum leaning against the counter, hardbound book in hand. "Can I renew this?"
"Sure," says Jinyoung, grudgingly putting his own reading aside with a post it to mark the page. "One sec."
Jaebum sets the book down across Jinyoung, the heft of it making him wince. Multivariable Feedback Control, the spine boasts, as daunting as Jinyoung's last science and technology class that he barely scraped by with a passing grade. Jinyoung's not proud to admit that his eyes glaze over just a bit.
"Is this for a friend?" Jinyoung asks, idly scanning the barcode. He plucks the tea bag out of his cup as he waits for Jaebum to hand him his card.
"Oh, nah," says Jaebum, opening his bag and rummaging around it for his ID, "that's actually for one of my majors."
It's a testament to Jaebum's comedic timing when Jinyoung almost spits out his tea and drops the book to his lap, spine knocking against his kneecaps painfully. The bastard should really consider doing variety, but hopefully not at Jinyoung's expense. He has to grab a few sheets of tissue to wipe at his chin, heat rising in his cheeks at Jaebum's curious stare.
"Are you okay?" Jaebum asks, sounding sincerely concerned.
"Sorry?" Jinyoung says, faintly. He's sure he's gone deaf somewhere in the middle of Jaebum opening his mouth and scrutinizing him, because there is absolutely no way he's hearing the word engineering coming out of Jaebum’s ridiculously attractive mouth.
"I'm in the engineering department," says Jaebum, tilting his head a bit to peer at him. "Wait, didn't you know that?"
If I did would I be standing here with herbal tea dripping down my neck, he thinks. He shakes his head.
"Well," says Jaebum, woodenly, "now you know."
"Engineering," Jinyoung repeats. "Huh."
Jaebum shrugs. "I like putting things together."
The world is a lie. All this time Jinyoung's been putting Jaebum into his tiny 'can't read anything beyond bad YA picks so he does stuff with his body' box, and then this blows up in his face. He's a living, breathing and aesthetically appealing nerd, Jinyoung despairs. Fuck my life.
Jinyoung really hates being wrong, almost as much as he hates Jackson being right.
"Why aren't you in performing arts?" He blurts out, then quails inside. Jaebum probably thinks he's a fan now, god forbid. Where is a convenient five-second earthquake when you need it? At the rate he's going, he might as well ask for tickets to a fan signing, maybe stalk him at his agency after dark, which, eugh, no way.
Jaebum makes a humming sound under his breath and takes the book back. "I wonder," he says, voice teasing despite how stiff Jinyoung's smile feels. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Well, if you don't want to say," Jinyoung mutters.
Jaebum leans forward, conspiratorial even as Jinyoung itches to shuffle away. "I'll tell you if you have breakfast with me tomorrow," says Jaebum.
The day is progressively getting weirder by the hour. Jinyoung's not ready for the heart palpitations he's been having with increasing regularity. He should get himself checked out. "We have class."
"Afterwards, then," says Jaebum, like it's no big deal. "We can make it a date, just the two of us."
This is not my life, he thinks with dawning horror. Normal people do not get propositioned in broad daylight by former celebrities of ill repute. They just don't.
"Perfect," says Jaebum, grinning wider at Jinyoung's slow, dumb nod. "See you tomorrow, then."
Jinyoung's tea is cold by the time Youngjae and Jackson find him making pained noises into the cover of a paperback. "I know you love books, but you're not gonna get anything from trying to suck face with it, hyung," says Youngjae, concerned. "But if you are, I promise I won't judge."
"I'm an idiot," Jinyoung moans.
"Oh my god," says Jackson, gleefully, "you're finally realizing exactly what you are. I hope you realize I'll never let you forget this moment, ever."
For once, Jinyoung can't refute that. He can, however, bury Jackson in debt with an imaginary overdue fine, even if Jimin shakes her head and calls him out on abusing his powers. No one understands his struggle.
Jackson ducks out of the lecture hell in record speed as soon as Kwon-seonsangnim lets them go, which has more to do with the way he'd taken Jinyoung's hand and said, very seriously, "I put a box of condoms in your backpack, you don't have to thank me for anything". Jinyoung had manfully yanked his hand back and stifled the urge to scream.
Jaebum seems to take Jackson's antics with a grain of salt, watching him waggling his fingers at both of them like a filthy pervert on his way out. "So," he says, significantly more composed than Jinyoung, "breakfast?"
"Just so we're clear, breakfast isn't a euphemism for anything, right?" Jinyoung asks suspiciously.
Jaebum just looks confused. "What?"
Jinyoung shakes his head. "Never mind."
The trek towards the nearest source of food is predictably awkward without Jackson as a buffer, but Jaebum eventually coaxes Jinyoung into revealing more than his birthday, his undergraduate degree, and maybe even his tax identification number, if he even has one. Despite his resistance to the idol charisma, Jinyoung is a naturally talkative person, present company aside, and he fills the gaping silence with a list of reasons why Jackson is the worst classmate in the world.
Jaebum just nods and lets him talk, not even defending Jackson from Jinyoung's more impassioned delineations. Forget Jinyoung having aspirations towards romantic comedies - Jaebum takes the cake with how insufferably nice he is despite initial appearances. On any other person, Jinyoung might be in the danger of being ridiculously infatuated, but he has more self-awareness than a female protagonist torn between her harem of unfairly attractive men. At least, he hopes he does. The jury's still out on that one. Jackson thinks otherwise, but Jackson is also an ass, so whatever.
It doesn't help that Jaebum is apparently more intelligent and discreet than the average celebrity. If he weren't, he wouldn't be so tight-lipped about so many things that Jinyoung fishes for with the civility of a newbie reporter (how did your first shot of soju taste, which girl group member is actually a bitch in real life, did you really have plastic surgery or was that just a rumor). He manages to redirect anything and everything back to Jinyoung, though - even the last question, which, wait, what? -- and over a steaming cup of instant coffee and kimbap, Jinyoung finds out only three things about his eternal rival:
• Jaebum hates being called JB to his face, which instills a fierce sense of sadistic pleasure in Jinyoung every time he sees Jaebum cringe at people that insist on shouting his name in the middle of the cafeteria. (He refuses to call him JB in principle because that just legitimizes his entire career and Jinyoung's still bitter about that.)
• He has no idea who the hell Ayn Rand is, but he reads sijo in his spare time. Even when it's not required. There is an app on his phone for it. What the fuck, seriously, who even does that? (Here Jinyoung calls him a freak, and hides his own tattered copy of a translated Milton play in his book bag.)
• SNU wasn't the only university panting after him when the acceptance letters came out, apparently, because everyone and their mother wanted a piece of him when he sent in those applications.
Jinyoung stares at him wordlessly for the last one.
"So you're telling me," says Jinyoung, slowly, tasting the bitterness of the coffee with an aching familiarity, "that after you quit your day job of prostituting your soul to teenage girls in the nation, you got into SNU and Yonsei?"
"Missed the mark on the K, but two out of the big three isn't so bad," says Jaebum, as if he hadn't heard the first part of Jinyoung's sentence. "I got into the business program but I didn't really want to get called out for bad marketing choices that I didn't even make." He cracks his knuckles and props his chin on his palm. "I would have gone into Hanyang or Konkuk for film but they gave me a partial ride here, so that's that."
Jinyoung sets his empty cup on the table and closes his eyes. The dull thunk rings loud and clear, as annoying as the migraine threatening to burst in his mind. "How are you real?"
"What?"
"You're like some dude that stepped out of a movie," Jinyoung observes. "A really upbeat teenybopper film about overachievers with spectacular lives. Do you have a reality show we're supposed to know about?" He looks around, warily. "Are we secretly filming right now?"
"No way," Jaebum protests, laughing at Jinyoung's paranoia. "Even if I did, I'd never be able to show my face here. It's already bad enough people recognize me."
Then why didn't you just take some off-campus course, Jinyoung thinks. Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and squares his shoulders. "I still don't understand one thing though. Like, how is that even possible that you get these things handed to you on a silver platter?"
"I wouldn't say I didn't do much," Jaebum retorts. "Sure, you'd be surprised what a superficially impeccable transcript does for you, but you can't rely on just that."
"How do you even have time to do anything, though? Weren't you always off practicing or following a schedule?" Jinyoung backtracks, and only realizes his mistake when Jaebum loses the pinched expression on his face. The whole point of keeping someone at arm's length is not keeping up the pretense of actively being interested in their lives, and Jinyoung's fucking it up with his curiosity.
"My agency wasn't so bad," says Jaebum, making a thoughtful noise at the back of his throat. "Plus my high school was more lenient with my situation than normal." He stirs his own coffee with a plastic spoon and grimaces. "It was great at first, but then I nearly keeled over from trying to cram everything for the standardized tests."
"I hate you," says Jinyoung, sounding as hollow as the contents of his cup. Jaebum doesn't take him too seriously, though, and gives him a smug albeit hesitant smile. Whatever, Jinyoung thinks, wiping the dumbfounded look on his face and replacing it with calculated calm. Like he'd ever give Jaebum the satisfaction.
He doesn't expect Jaebum to get it. Guys like him don't really realize how hard everything is for everyone else, because by some act of god they managed to win the lottery in life. Jaebum must have saved an entire continent, and meanwhile Jinyoung's past self must have spent the entire time kicking unsuspecting kittens left and right. No amount of hagwon sessions had given Jinyoung a shot at his first choice in Yonsei, never mind KU.
He chalks it up as yet another reason to become the head of his anti-fan club, if it even exists. He wonders if it's too late to sign up.
"Oh no," says Youngjae, putting his hand up like the supportive friend Jinyoung doesn't have. "Unless this is life-threatening, I don't wanna know. You are not having a crisis in front of me again. It was cute and hilarious the first few times, but this is getting ridiculous."
Jackson shoves Youngjae aside gleefully. "To hell with that," says Jackson, eyes lighting up. "This is my only source of entertainment ever since the router at the dorm broke down. What happened to you now?"
Jinyoung ignores Youngjae's plaintive wail of "I HAVE AN EXAM" and recounts his earlier conversation with Jaebum, albeit with more embellishments of Jaebum's supposedly superior tone and his feigned casual air. Youngjae looks like he wants to stuff his notebook down Jackson's mouth every time he cracks up at Jinyoung's (extremely serious!!!) retelling. Jinyoung's just glad he has someone to listen ever since Yugyeom had rudely shouted at him over the phone, stressed and pissed off about linear equations and quadrants.
"It's like the universe is taunting me," Jinyoung finishes into his bowl of tofu soup. "How can I make fun of a guy who apparently has a well-rounded brain to go with his abs?"
"His abs," Jackson repeats, sounding even more thrilled. "How do you even know he has abs?"
Jinyoung stifles his scream and covers Jackson's mouth with his hand. "Shut up!" He hisses, pointedly not thinking of Jaebum's infamous photoshoot when he was seventeen, the equivalent of a fetus in the kpop world, oh god, he's going to hell. He shrieks when Jackson's tongue licks at his palm. Disgusting.
"This is starting to sound like a drama, except super boring and traumatizing to my soul," Youngjae comments, already surrendering to the hysteria. "I can't believe I just participated in this conversation."
They continue to ignore Youngjae's distress. No one should listen to anyone knee-deep in exams. "And he's in engineering," Jackson taunts. "Should I set up more dates?"
"No."
"Come on, he's like your dream guy already," Jackson whines. "This is much better than having a girlfriend from Canada. Because, you know, he's living. He's breathing. He's male."
"Please shut up," Jinyoung is begging by now. "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation."
"I learned this in Psych, you know," Jackson boasts. He squints and rubs at his forehead. "Or was it a chick flick? Whatever. But the point is, the more you talk about hating a person, the more your subconscious actually wants to, like, bang him."
"What," says Jinyoung, flatly. Youngjae closes his eyes. He's probably thinking that if he closes them long enough, Jackson will go away.
"You are strangely obsessed with pointing out how good-looking he is. Even when it's unsolicited."
ASHDSGHFSDHFKS, Jinyoung's brain says. He sobs into his bowl, wondering when Jackson became reasonable. "Why does everything have to be about dicks with you?"
"Just give in, Jinyoung," says Jackson, seriously. "I don't think I can stand any more questions about you courtesy of JB. There's no accounting for taste even if he has a lot of money in his hands."
"Why would he even be asking about me?" Jinyoung mumbles into his soup, then he sits up, back ramrod straight. Youngjae and Jackson trade long-suffering looks. "Oh god, is he out to exact revenge on me for talking crap about him? I haven't even made a hate club for him yet!"
"I used to think you were the most insensitive person in this table, hyung," Youngjae tells Jackson. "I hate it when I'm wrong."
"Thanks a lot, bastard," says Jackson, but Jinyoung's ignoring them, already shoving his stuff into his bag and making plans.
Yugyeom finds him bent over his desk much, much later, strolling into Jinyoung's house like the second son his parents never had. (He is.) Jinyoung's been running on adrenaline and three refills of tea so he doesn't blame himself if he yelps and almost falls over his seat when Yugyeom breathes down his neck like the horrifying kid from Ju-on. No one has the right to sneak up on people like that, and then judge them immediately with an assessing smirk.
"That's super pathetic," Yugyeom feels the need to inform him when he catches Jinyoung googling any and all variations of how to make an anti-fan club. Did you mean how to join Im Jaebum's fan club, Google asks instead, to which he backspaces faster than he's ever done at six in the morning on a weekend. "Like, I know I make fun of you all the time, but this is a new low even for you."
Jinyoung bats away the condescending pat to the head that Yugyeom gives him, increasingly irate. "No one asked you."
"The first step to fixing your life is admitting you have a problem."
Jinyoung cocks a threatening eyebrow at him. "How about I fix your face instead?" The asshole just laughs.
"We had counseling sessions the other day and my homeroom teacher wouldn't stop bugging me about my answers," says Yugyeom. "If he could see you now, he'd understand why I told him I'd rather be anything but you."
"All the teachers loved me," Jinyoung insists dolefully, rubbing at his eyes. "You're crazy."
"Not as crazy as a guy devoting his weekend to contemplating signing up for a fan club. A paid fan club, by the way."
Jinyoung doesn't bother to dignify that with an answer, too busy checking his bank account and oh god what if they trace IP addresses, what if.
"Thanks for giving me a glimpse into the scary life of a saesang," says Yugyeom, raiding Jinyoung's fridge without batting an eyelash, like the little neighbor brat he is. Not cute. When he can't find anything he likes, he shuffles over to drape himself across Jinyoung's hunched back. "It looks kind of sad from this angle."
"Don't you have exams?" Jinyoung demands, hoping against all hope that Yugyeom doesn't notice the tab labeled OBLIGATORY IM JAEBUM BODY APPRECIATION POST that he's been casually browsing. Since last night. Okay, maybe two nights ago, but who the hell is even counting? Only the girl's hit counter at least.
Yugyeom is irked enough that it works, and he pushes himself off hanging on Jinyoung's shoulder. "It's Sunday, give me a break."
"Seniors don't get breaks until some university feels sorry enough for them. Get out before I tell on you."
"Pathetic, hyung," Yugyeom reminds him, and goes off to bother someone else.
Screw Jinyoung stalking Jaebum. If he's thought last week's fiasco was bad enough, Jaebum is suddenly everywhere.
Jaebum still doesn't sit with them during class, but he does make it a point to make small talk before or after the lecture, knees propped up against the empty armchair in front of Jackson and Jinyoung. Jinyoung doesn't tell him about spending the entire weekend googling his career and arranging his variety show cuts in chronological order when Jaebum asks about his drooping eyelids and incessant yawn, opting instead to shrink into himself and rely on Jackson's mouth running off to distract Jaebum. He really doesn't want to give Jackson more ammunition than he already has.
Outside of class, Jinyoung catches him in the main library more often than not. It's disconcerting and keeps Jinyoung on edge, because he knows for a fact that the engineering department has a more impressive selection for Jaebum's assignments instead of the general references scattered in Jinyoung's floor. Jaebum doesn't talk to him all the time - just. A little bit. Like, 80% of the time.
He learns a bit more about Jaebum, small stuff like his schedule (all the better to avoid him with), his deep and profound struggle in the one business elective he's taking this semester, and, god forbid, the number of books he's checked out from freshman year. He's expecting a juvenile title to come out, sandwiched in between all the calculus and physics references somewhere, but no dice. Jaebum probably checks out Wattpad obsessively instead.
Jaebum is, surprisingly, unfailingly boring and safe. He hasn't joined a frat, if the lack of rampant exhibitionism and delinquency is any indication of it, nor has he gotten in with the serial party crowd yet, even if Jinyoung knows from Jackson's Facebook photos that he goes to some parties when invited by his other friends. It's an entirely different world from what Jinyoung associates with the Jaebum who snores in his sleep when he's too tired to function, slumped over a desk in the library with the hood of his jacket yanked over his head to keep the fluorescent lights out. But seeing Jaebum with an arm around an inebriated senior and a red solo cup in hand through his laptop screen is more reminiscent of the image Jinyoung has of him, raucous and uncaring of consequences and just entirely out of anyone's league.
("Are you stroking your screen?" Jimin asks over his shoulder. Jinyoung pulls his hand back, burned, and shoots her a look of utter loathing.)
He's slowly come to terms with the fact that he can't get rid of Jaebum yet. Jaebum sometimes drops by for lunch, though Jinyoung knows for a fact that his other friends have been shamelessly teasing him for it - Jinyoung tries not to break out into a cold sweat every time Yoo Youngjae stares at him with a shit-eating grin that rivals Jackson's - and it's surprising that Jaebum hasn't let his temper get the best of him outside of indignant yelling laced with laughter and a few well-directed kicks at his friends.
"I blame you for this," Jinyoung whispers furiously to Jackson as Jaebum plops down beside Mark to talk about some FPS game coming out next season. Jackson just looks smug and not even the least bit repentant.
"I'm just doing my part in getting the celebrity reintegrated back into civilian life," Jackson brags. "Think of it as community service. If I get to do that while taking advantage of his attachment to you, then it's practically a win-win situation for me."
"What attachment?" Jinyoung says, scrunching up his nose. "I'm only acting like a decent person because I know you'll do something embarrassing if I don't."
"I don't think you're too hung up about it as much as you claim you are," says Jackson, and Jinyoung would love to do nothing more than wipe the smug expression off of his face with his fist. "And if you haven't noticed anything by now, you're an idiot."
Jinyoung's hackles rise. "What?"
"Forget it," says Jackson, waving him off. "Don't you have a shift in half an hour?" He stands up and catcalls at Jaebum. "Yo, pop star! Weren't you on your way to the library?"
"Yeah?" Jaebum says, looking up. "What's up?"
"Jinyoung's gonna head over to work in a bit," says Jackson, coolly. Jinyoung kicks him under the table. "You should walk with him to ward off the perverts."
Jaebum's expression changes into one of extreme concern and discomfort. "You're being trailed by perverts?"
"More like he's the pervert," Youngjae mutters under his breath. Jinyoung kicks him for that as well. "Save yourself, hyung. Please."
"We're just concerned about Jinyounggie since he's such a space case sometimes," says Jackson, voice dripping with the sincerity he's never had since birth. Jinyoung cracks his knuckles threateningly.
Jaebum still looks worried, and Jinyoung still wants the earth to swallow him up. Both are completely out of his control, unfortunately, because apparently Jaebum has a white knight complex and the earth is not anywhere near apocalyptic levels of seismic shifts and divine intervention. "You should talk to campus security about that."
"It's fine if you don't," Jinyoung insists.
"Nah, it's okay," says Jaebum, crushing Jinyoung's hopes and dreams further. "Give me a sec to pack up my stuff. I'll walk with you."
Jinyoung waits until Jaebum's back is turned before he expresses his gratitude to Jackson via a look of despair. Thank me later, Jackson mouths, but Jinyoung interprets it as see you in hell.
They're getting better at small talk so it isn't as awkward as the first disastrous attempt, but Jinyoung still feels fidgety and out of depth around Jaebum. It's like a chokehold on his spine that just won't quit, and it's foreboding enough without the gritty prickling of his skin every time Jaebum's elbow accidentally knocks against his. The innocuous conversation has its fair share of hiccups and false starts, but they get through the (excruciatingly long) walk without much incident, save for when a bicycle almost runs over Jinyoung and Jaebum yanks him to his side like - and Jinyoung is never gonna quit thinking about this - some godforsaken male drama lead. It honestly makes his spine tingle with mortification.
"So here you are," says Jaebum, releasing him and gesturing towards the steps leading to the library.
"Here I am," Jinyoung echoes. He opens his palms and shakes them, as if to prove a point. "No perverts."
"No perverts," Jaebum agrees, "but you're like an accident waiting to happen. Jackson wasn't kidding about the spacing out, was he?"
If you weren't so damn distracting Jinyoung almost says, but thankfully keeps his mouth firmly shut. "Whatever you say, Jaebum-sshi," he mumbles.
Jinyoung doesn't know what to expect, but it certainly isn't Jaebum taking a few steps closer to him and plucking a leaf out of his hair. Jinyoung almost chokes. Fall is the worst season ever. "Hey," says Jaebum, "call me hyung, okay?"
"Uh," says Jinyoung, taking his cue of idiocy from Jackson, "as long as it isn't oppa, then fine."
Jaebum laughs so hard the skin around his eyes crinkle with glee. "I knew you had a sense of humor in there, somewhere."
That's it. Jinyoung quits. He's filing for a leave of absence tomorrow and joining a cult of ascetic monks, away from mocking celebrities and negative influences in life. He doesn't think his pride can handle any more of this.
To his credit, Jaebum doesn't prolong his agony, but his face does fall a bit when Jinyoung remains silent. He offers a small smile and waves, feet kicking up a few stray leaves on the ground as he turns his back to walk away. Jinyoung watches him take a few steps in confusion, and before he can remind himself that he doesn't care, he blurts out, "Aren't you coming inside?"
It stops Jaebum in his tracks, and the look he gives Jinyoung over his shoulder is gratified, almost, if not a little embarrassed. "Nah, I gotta head over to the engineering building," Jaebum confesses. "See you, then."
Jinyoung doesn't get to ask him why he'd gone all the way to the main library - the engineering department is all the way to the other side, opposite of the direction they'd headed towards. He would have gotten there faster if he hadn't taken the detour past the student center. Hell, he would have gotten there without having to drop Jinyoung off, too out of the way and inconvenient.
Jinyoung shakes his head and keeps his hands tucked in his jean pockets. He really doesn't understand Jaebum at all.
one | part two | three | four | five | six
The business ad building is a fifteen minute grunt-sweat-try-not-to-die cross between a jog and a run, but it's worth it to thunder into the cafeteria and whack Jackson upside the head as hard as he can when he sees him. From the mocking smirk on his face, Jackson doesn't regret it one bit, so Jinyoung raises his hand to give him another smack.
"Ow, stop, I have a match next week, don't hit me," Jackson yelps, shielding himself with Mark's Stiglitz textbook. Mark rolls his eyes and pulls Jinyoung to the seat beside him, if only to save his own valuables.
"Do that again and I'll do more than hit you," Jinyoung threatens, relishing in the way Jackson blanches in his seat.
"You should consider trying out for the wrestling team," Jackson observes, rubbing his arm. "You're, like, really strong even if you look like you're gonna die in a 5k marathon."
"Do we even have a wrestling team?" Mark asks, not really interested in the answer but speaking up anyway so he can go for at least five minutes without Jackson pestering him to socialize.
"Jinyoung can be captain if there isn't," says Jackson, sweetly. "I'm sure he'd be down for pummeling Jaebum into the mattress with his prowess."
For someone in the political department, Jackson is full of crap. "You're gonna start a war someday," Jinyoung informs him. "I just know it."
"You mean a war in your pants," says Jackson, through a mouthful of dumplings. "I think JB's done a pretty good job conquering your territory, all things considered."
"Fuck off," Jinyoung snipes. Only Jackson finds himself hilarious. Maybe Mark, given how he's hiding his face behind his iPad, but Mark is weird sometimes.
"Oh no, we're talking about this," says Jackson. "I don't get why you're so strung up around the pop star. It's not like he's a bad guy."
"If you like him so much, why don't you just go after him," Jinyoung mutters, glaring at all the students walking by. Their lives are so much easier than his, they have no idea.
"True," Jackson concedes, humming under his breath. "He's rich, athletic and hot enough for it. Score."
"Sounds like a total asshole," says Mark, flatly.
"Ten out of ten, would do," Jackson insists. Mark's expression turns even deader. Jinyoung would feel more pity for him if he weren't busy licking his own wounds. "He can't speak Chinese for shit, though," Jackson continues. "My mom will probably cry if I take him home, and then I'd have to translate for them all the time and that's just not my style."
He points his chopsticks at Jinyoung like a rude shit. "Your sisters, on the other hand, will definitely cry if you don't."
"I'll make you cry, preferably in pain," Jinyoung snaps. "And if you say that again about my sisters, I swear--"
"Hey, I'm not the one who had his childhood dreams stolen unjustifiably," says Jackson, raising his hands in surrender.
"Who told you that?" Jinyoung groans. "Was it Youngjae? I'll kill him."
"Stop threatening to kill people, it's so unbecoming," says Jackson.
Mark wrinkles his nose. "Would you rather he did it to you?"
"I used to think I was special, but Jinyoung has enough homicidal tendencies for everyone," says Jackson. A thought comes to him, so sudden and hilarious that he almost doubles over. "Oh my god, if you became an idol, no one would ever know how evil you were, you hypocrite."
Mark joins in on his laughter. Jinyoung steals his iPad in revenge and glowers at it with disdain. "Can you imagine Jinyoung as an idol? He'd hate it."
"I wouldn't," says Jinyoung, menacing tone belying the cheerful chirping of Candy Crush.
"Don't lie!" Jackson half-shouts, toppling over Jinyoung's bag as he grabs at his arm. "You'd have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn and your bandmates will hate you for hogging the bathroom for an hour and you'll never have time to read, ever."
"I don't think idols don't have free time," says Mark, sounding amused even as he scribbles something in the margins of his notebook. "It's not like they're contractually obligated to be tied to the job 24/7."
"Somehow I doubt that," Jackson scoffs. "If they did have lives outside the industry, there'd be more photos of them being smashed at clubs and bars."
"Jinyoung would have a field day with the no dating rule, though," says Mark, the smile on his face barely taking any of the bite out of his teasing. "He'd never have to make up anyone just to get out of hanging out."
"That was one time," Jinyoung sulks.
Jackson boos in response and flicks a balled up tissue at him. Mark shakes his head and pushes Jinyoung back down his seat when he tries to reach for Jackson. "More like all the time."
"Let's be real, though," Jackson accedes, slinging an arm around Jinyoung's hunched shoulders, clearly having the self-preservation instincts of a gnat. "You'd pick being cultured over being sweaty."
"No," Jinyoung snarls, dooming himself to failure when he swipes in the wrong direction. "I'd rather go for being built like a 2PM member than subjecting myself to being friends with you."
"I'm so glad you think I'm refined," is all Jackson takes out of it. Jackson has selective hearing, which is why Jinyoung privately hopes he never enters the Foreign Service, ever. He fears for Hong Kong. "So, like, if Jaebum starts showing up for lunch, does this mean you're gonna hide in the library forever?"
"Yes," says Jinyoung, appalled. "Wait, what? Are you inviting him?" His indignation morphs into terror. "Did you already ask him to hang out?"
"I don't share all my breaks with you guys," says Jackson, defensively. "I'm networking."
Jinyoung eyes Mark. "Who's the business major again?"
"Too much effort," Mark grunts.
"Isn't that what AIESEC is for, though?" Jinyoung points out. "Why don't you just join an org and not actively ruin my life."
"Eh, Mark's already part of it," says Jackson. "That's one less foot in the door I need." He smiles, promising eternal despair to Jinyoung. "Pissing you off is just a bonus."
"I'm so glad we could contribute to your future success and entertainment," says Mark, dryly, looking up just to shoot Jackson an unreadable look. He goes back to thumbing through his notes when Jackson shrugs. Jinyoung's too outraged to bother reading into it.
"It helps to have friends everywhere," says Jackson, waving his chopsticks in the air. It hits one of the passing freshmen, who shoots him a dirty look. Jackson ignores it with as much finesse as he ignores Jinyoung. "Here, you can have my last dumpling. I was saving it for you just in case."
"I'm not taking your pity lunch," Jinyoung sneers. "Not after you've cemented exactly how far your disloyalty extended."
"Okay," says Jackson, not at all remorseful, "just for that, I'm gonna be best friends with your worst nightmare, you jealous bastard."
Jinyoung stands up, half-chucking Mark's iPad at Jackson's chest and grabbing his bag with great feeling. He'd look more indignant if he didn't have Jackson's dumpling unceremoniously shoved to his mouth. As it is, he probably just looks extremely disgruntled and not at all menacing. He chews on the dumpling with as much force as he can.
Unmindful of his frustration, Jackson waves at him cheerfully, managing to keep his voice deceptively light and mockingly supportive. "Text us when you get your head out of your ass!"
"Never," says Jinyoung, and trudges off to his next class.
Jinyoung doesn't text Jackson, not even when, true to form, Jaebum starts sitting with them on their shared breaks. He doesn't always show up, but it's excruciating enough for Jinyoung that Jackson has to make threatening signs at him from across the table to get him to suppress the sour expression on his face.
Jinyoung can't read hand signals, so he's really just dooming himself to failure. Jackson settles for kicking him under the table. Jinyoung kicks back.
"Next time we talk about dogs, stop looking like you're plotting someone's death," is all Mark has to say by way of reprimand. Youngjae raises his hands up and mouths why at the ceiling, having long since given up at reasoning with Jinyoung a long time ago. Youngjae is actually the smartest one of them all.
"I can't help it," says Jinyoung, still smarting from the sharp jab to his side that Jackson delivered when Jaebum had clammed up after Jinyoung had ranted about income inequality and uneven opportunities and what the fuck, where did that come from, weren't they talking about a puppy parade? It hurts like a bitch. "He gets under my skin so easily."
("Haha, aren't social science guys hilarious," Jackson had said, mortified.
"I'm in economics."
"Thank god for that, because you would have sucked in Psychology."
"Right," said Jaebum, and made up a hasty excuse to get to his next class three hours later.)
Jackson's irritated enough to not even make a dirty joke out of that. Instead, he goes back to his game of hangman with Mark, losing on purpose to have the satisfaction of killing off stickman-Jinyoung. "Jinyoung, somewhere under your cold, shriveled heart, I know you still have a soul," says Jackson. "Stop bullying my friend or I swear to god I'll ditch you in the next project and find a way to pair you up with him."
"You wouldn't," says Jinyoung, meekly, but from the decisive set of Jackson's jaw, yes, he totally would.
Jackson, for all his frivolity and jokes, is stubborn and single-minded when he wants to be, which is the absolute worst, in Jinyoung's opinion. Jinyoung tries not to bristle when Jackson pats the back of his hand fondly and says, "This will be harder for you than it is for me," but he does flinch, which makes Jackson smile.
It's not impossible, but it is unbearable for Jinyoung to play nice. Eventually, the pissy retorts and the eye rolling tapers off into sullen poking at his tteokbokk a few days later, giving Mark a run for his money with his silence. Jaebum doesn't visibly recoil, but he at least has enough sense to not push Jinyoung into unwanted conversations. Jackson fills the quiet enough for all of them anyway.
He's ranting about the surprise quiz in class to Jaebum, who's knee-deep in readings that Jinyoung barely recognizes from his own faculty. Jinyoung likes to remind Jackson every now and then that he isn't the center of the universe, and it's the only reason he even butts into the conversation and not at all because Jaebum is most likely too polite to tell Jackson to fuck off and let him study instead. He gives it a few more weeks.
"It was C," Jinyoung interrupts. Jaebum and Jackson trade confused looks, and Jinyoung spears a disposable fork into his food. "The answer to number six, I mean."
Jaebum still looks taken aback at hearing him pipe up, but Jackson's body just collapses against Youngjae, if the annoyed squawk from the younger boy is any indication of it. "Fuck, I got that wrong," Jackson whines. "I need a do over!"
"I don't think Kwon-seonsaengnim will curve your grade, Jackson," says Jinyoung. He turns away from Jaebum, finding his scrutiny way too discomfiting; it makes him feel a little too warm even in his t-shirt. "You're not his favorite."
"He laughs at my jokes," Jackson protests.
"He's too nice to embarrass the foreigner," says Jinyoung. "Also, you sleep in class, don't be delusional."
Jackson kicks up his legs on the table and doesn't budge even when Youngjae pushes his thigh off with a not my damn score, hyung. "Okay, so who's the teacher's pet if not me?"
"Easy," says Jinyoung, pointing at Jaebum. "Him."
The tiny, shell-shocked laugh that escapes Jaebum's mouth makes something in Jinyoung's body clench. He thinks it's his guts groaning in pain and abject misery. "Me?" He says, at the same time that Jackson squawks, "Him? He gets grilled all the time like he's on some up-close and personal interview on that show with the half-naked people in towels!"
"Exactly," says Jinyoung, deadpan.
"I don't even wanna know," says Youngjae, penciling in a note in his homework.
"Hey, he doesn't even talk in class unless he gets called out," says Jackson. "If he and Mark-hyung had classes together, their side of the lecture room would be depressingly quiet."
"I'm right here," Mark pipes up loudly, not even looking cross.
"Irrelevant," Jackson yells. Mark rolls his eyes and shoves a chip into Jackson's mouth. Jackson munches on it without much thought, then decides that Jinyoung's lunch looks even more appetizing, the greedy bastard. Jinyoung glares at him and hunches over to shield his plate.
"I don't think silence is earning me any brownie points," Jaebum points out.
"Huh?" Jinyoung says, distracted by Jackson's hands inching their way towards stealing his food. "Nah, you'll be okay. The professor likes you for more than your face anyway."
He'd meant to add it helps that you have a nice s-line, pop star, but Jackson drops a rice cake into his lap and Jaebum's soft, considering look is lost to Jinyoung's yelling.
He doesn't think much of it for the next few days, which, like all of Jinyoung's thoughtless actions, gets him into even more uncomfortable situations than before. This is what he realizes with sinking horror when he keeps seeing Jaebum at an alarmingly frequent rate, politeness dictating that he should make small talk in front of his other friends. It's like a swirling mass of his ramyeon from lunch, last night's text on Sidel, and the half-finished coffee in his hands when the epiphany strikes at him like an unwanted ghost.
Oh shit, he messages Yugyeom in a bathroom stall that reeks of desperation and the respectable fears of adult men, I think Im Jaebum thinks we're friends now.
??? Yugyeom texts back.
I know, he replies, and buries his face in his hands. I'm too nice for my own good.
Only Yugyeom can make symbols sound so judgmental. ??????????????
At least Jinyoung still has work to console him, which is probably what Bambam has in mind when he messages him a few minutes after his episode in the men's room, because Yugyeom is a talkative little shit and Bambam is a whore for gossip.
Please don't hibernate in the library, Bambam implores, and Jinyoung would feel more touched if he doesn't follow it up with: I still need you to look over my Korean homework every weekend.
Jinyoung rolls his eyes. No wonder you and Jackson get along so well. You're only using me for your own advancement. I'm so hurt.
Don't insult me, hyung, says Bambam, and Jinyoung can't help but crack a smile at that.
It's inevitable that Jaebum will wind up at his workplace at some point. Jinyoung's been preparing for this moment since he's realized that Jackson was serious about establishing himself as the overly outspoken and annoying friend Jaebum will never be able to get rid of (Youngjae's words, not his), but apparently all that time psyching himself up is for naught because the initial revulsion still hits him like a ton of bricks. With great effort, he returns the nod Jaebum gives him with what he thinks is a professional enough smile, and he seems to succeed because no one scurries away to run for the hills in terror. He should be the lead in a drama because Jaebum suspects absolutely nothing.
Or maybe Jaebum's as insensitive as Jackson. That's equally possible.
"I didn't know you were a student assistant here," says Jaebum, glancing around. "Slow day?"
"To be fair, I only started working here because being around Jackson wasn't doing any favors to my emotional well-being," says Jinyoung. He's not sure why he's even explaining himself, but Jaebum seems to think it's funny. He fiddles with his pen and pretends to write something down on a post it. "What are you doing all the way here?"
"Had to get away from my own building," says Jaebum. "It's time for periodic exams so everyone's a bit…" He trails off, then shrugs, impishly. "Unhinged."
"Sounds like law school on LSD," says Jinyoung, rolling his eyes. He doesn't even know what department Jaebum's from, and for all he knows he could be in the humanities, which is a lot closer to the Main Library than other colleges, so he shouldn't be begrudging Jaebum of what should be considered as a common area. Whatever.
"Maybe with a bit more drooling and napping involved," Jaebum jokes. "It's honestly starting to look like death warmed over the place."
"That's what normal college students are supposed to look like," says Jinyoung. The curve of his mouth is starting to twitch. Damn it.
"Like corpses?"
Jinyoung purses his lips. "Sorry we can't all have nice faces like you."
Jinyoung wants to stab himself with how flirtatious it sounds instead of the disdainfully demeaning tone he's going for, and two unmistakable spots of red appear on Jaebum's cheeks. At least Jackson isn't around to watch him humiliate himself. Jinyoung hastily looks down and rips his post it into tiny pieces.
"Thanks, I guess?" Jaebum offers, recovering fairly quickly. Mercifully, he steps away and hefts his bag on his shoulder. "Uh, see you later, then?"
Jinyoung doesn't know how long he stands there, staring at the empty space Jaebum vacated as he replays all of his foot-in-mouth moments with Jaebum starting from day one. It's a spiral of doom, and he's cursed. Surely there should be an end to all of this pain.
He almost knocks over a stapler when someone nudges his shoulder, lost in his distraction. Jimin, the new student assistant, peers at him curiously, then makes a face.
"Why are you scaring the freshmen with your face?" Jimin comments, wrinkling her nose at him. "Did a weird senior hit on you again?"
Jinyoung scowls and pelts her with his shredded post it note. "They'd be blessed to see my face," Jinyoung shoots back. "And stop marking those as overdue, you know they aren't."
"You're no fun, oppa," Jimin says, stepping away and flinging the copy of Statistics for the Social Sciences back into the for-shelving box.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Jaebum work at the table farthest from the full-length glass windows, surrounding himself with textbooks and notes. Philosophy major, probably, he revises in his mind. He doesn't remember if Youngjae even surrounded himself with as much readings, preferring the practical approach instead, but Jaebum might be more of a by-the-book kind of guy than he'd thought. Huh, he thinks. It's strangely more normal than he'd expected.
A few girls approach him and only give up chatting with him once he gives them his autograph, ruining the brief illusion. It sends a spark of irritation fizzing through Jinyoung's nerves, but he's not sure if he's more annoyed by Jaebum or by his fans. He bites his lip and heads into the break room instead.
When he comes back, the girls are gone and Jaebum is wearing his earphones this time. His music is turned up so loud Jinyoung can faintly make out the blaring of a funky girl group song, but Jaebum is too far away for him to pointedly cough and make thinly veiled insults about the well-being of his ears. It's not like he cares.
He plucks a book from the general fiction pile and leafs absently through the novel, bent on ignoring Jaebum as he waits for his tea to steep. He's tried reading Kundera in English before, but Jackson had been the worst translator, going on about how he couldn't understand the point of the novel, Jinyoung, you're so weird, try learning Czech instead of making me do your work for you. He'd ended up hunting down Korean translations online instead. (Also with a bit of help from wiki, but like hell he's admitting that out loud.)
It's a bit easier to follow the English version once he's read the Korean one numerous times. At least when he doesn't understand anything, he can rely on stock knowledge to remember the plot. He's so focused on slogging through the text that he jumps when someone's shadow blocks the light.
"Hey," says Jaebum, startling Jinyoung out of the heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to earth. He looks up to find Jaebum leaning against the counter, hardbound book in hand. "Can I renew this?"
"Sure," says Jinyoung, grudgingly putting his own reading aside with a post it to mark the page. "One sec."
Jaebum sets the book down across Jinyoung, the heft of it making him wince. Multivariable Feedback Control, the spine boasts, as daunting as Jinyoung's last science and technology class that he barely scraped by with a passing grade. Jinyoung's not proud to admit that his eyes glaze over just a bit.
"Is this for a friend?" Jinyoung asks, idly scanning the barcode. He plucks the tea bag out of his cup as he waits for Jaebum to hand him his card.
"Oh, nah," says Jaebum, opening his bag and rummaging around it for his ID, "that's actually for one of my majors."
It's a testament to Jaebum's comedic timing when Jinyoung almost spits out his tea and drops the book to his lap, spine knocking against his kneecaps painfully. The bastard should really consider doing variety, but hopefully not at Jinyoung's expense. He has to grab a few sheets of tissue to wipe at his chin, heat rising in his cheeks at Jaebum's curious stare.
"Are you okay?" Jaebum asks, sounding sincerely concerned.
"Sorry?" Jinyoung says, faintly. He's sure he's gone deaf somewhere in the middle of Jaebum opening his mouth and scrutinizing him, because there is absolutely no way he's hearing the word engineering coming out of Jaebum’s ridiculously attractive mouth.
"I'm in the engineering department," says Jaebum, tilting his head a bit to peer at him. "Wait, didn't you know that?"
If I did would I be standing here with herbal tea dripping down my neck, he thinks. He shakes his head.
"Well," says Jaebum, woodenly, "now you know."
"Engineering," Jinyoung repeats. "Huh."
Jaebum shrugs. "I like putting things together."
The world is a lie. All this time Jinyoung's been putting Jaebum into his tiny 'can't read anything beyond bad YA picks so he does stuff with his body' box, and then this blows up in his face. He's a living, breathing and aesthetically appealing nerd, Jinyoung despairs. Fuck my life.
Jinyoung really hates being wrong, almost as much as he hates Jackson being right.
"Why aren't you in performing arts?" He blurts out, then quails inside. Jaebum probably thinks he's a fan now, god forbid. Where is a convenient five-second earthquake when you need it? At the rate he's going, he might as well ask for tickets to a fan signing, maybe stalk him at his agency after dark, which, eugh, no way.
Jaebum makes a humming sound under his breath and takes the book back. "I wonder," he says, voice teasing despite how stiff Jinyoung's smile feels. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Well, if you don't want to say," Jinyoung mutters.
Jaebum leans forward, conspiratorial even as Jinyoung itches to shuffle away. "I'll tell you if you have breakfast with me tomorrow," says Jaebum.
The day is progressively getting weirder by the hour. Jinyoung's not ready for the heart palpitations he's been having with increasing regularity. He should get himself checked out. "We have class."
"Afterwards, then," says Jaebum, like it's no big deal. "We can make it a date, just the two of us."
This is not my life, he thinks with dawning horror. Normal people do not get propositioned in broad daylight by former celebrities of ill repute. They just don't.
"Perfect," says Jaebum, grinning wider at Jinyoung's slow, dumb nod. "See you tomorrow, then."
Jinyoung's tea is cold by the time Youngjae and Jackson find him making pained noises into the cover of a paperback. "I know you love books, but you're not gonna get anything from trying to suck face with it, hyung," says Youngjae, concerned. "But if you are, I promise I won't judge."
"I'm an idiot," Jinyoung moans.
"Oh my god," says Jackson, gleefully, "you're finally realizing exactly what you are. I hope you realize I'll never let you forget this moment, ever."
For once, Jinyoung can't refute that. He can, however, bury Jackson in debt with an imaginary overdue fine, even if Jimin shakes her head and calls him out on abusing his powers. No one understands his struggle.
Jackson ducks out of the lecture hell in record speed as soon as Kwon-seonsangnim lets them go, which has more to do with the way he'd taken Jinyoung's hand and said, very seriously, "I put a box of condoms in your backpack, you don't have to thank me for anything". Jinyoung had manfully yanked his hand back and stifled the urge to scream.
Jaebum seems to take Jackson's antics with a grain of salt, watching him waggling his fingers at both of them like a filthy pervert on his way out. "So," he says, significantly more composed than Jinyoung, "breakfast?"
"Just so we're clear, breakfast isn't a euphemism for anything, right?" Jinyoung asks suspiciously.
Jaebum just looks confused. "What?"
Jinyoung shakes his head. "Never mind."
The trek towards the nearest source of food is predictably awkward without Jackson as a buffer, but Jaebum eventually coaxes Jinyoung into revealing more than his birthday, his undergraduate degree, and maybe even his tax identification number, if he even has one. Despite his resistance to the idol charisma, Jinyoung is a naturally talkative person, present company aside, and he fills the gaping silence with a list of reasons why Jackson is the worst classmate in the world.
Jaebum just nods and lets him talk, not even defending Jackson from Jinyoung's more impassioned delineations. Forget Jinyoung having aspirations towards romantic comedies - Jaebum takes the cake with how insufferably nice he is despite initial appearances. On any other person, Jinyoung might be in the danger of being ridiculously infatuated, but he has more self-awareness than a female protagonist torn between her harem of unfairly attractive men. At least, he hopes he does. The jury's still out on that one. Jackson thinks otherwise, but Jackson is also an ass, so whatever.
It doesn't help that Jaebum is apparently more intelligent and discreet than the average celebrity. If he weren't, he wouldn't be so tight-lipped about so many things that Jinyoung fishes for with the civility of a newbie reporter (how did your first shot of soju taste, which girl group member is actually a bitch in real life, did you really have plastic surgery or was that just a rumor). He manages to redirect anything and everything back to Jinyoung, though - even the last question, which, wait, what? -- and over a steaming cup of instant coffee and kimbap, Jinyoung finds out only three things about his eternal rival:
• Jaebum hates being called JB to his face, which instills a fierce sense of sadistic pleasure in Jinyoung every time he sees Jaebum cringe at people that insist on shouting his name in the middle of the cafeteria. (He refuses to call him JB in principle because that just legitimizes his entire career and Jinyoung's still bitter about that.)
• He has no idea who the hell Ayn Rand is, but he reads sijo in his spare time. Even when it's not required. There is an app on his phone for it. What the fuck, seriously, who even does that? (Here Jinyoung calls him a freak, and hides his own tattered copy of a translated Milton play in his book bag.)
• SNU wasn't the only university panting after him when the acceptance letters came out, apparently, because everyone and their mother wanted a piece of him when he sent in those applications.
Jinyoung stares at him wordlessly for the last one.
"So you're telling me," says Jinyoung, slowly, tasting the bitterness of the coffee with an aching familiarity, "that after you quit your day job of prostituting your soul to teenage girls in the nation, you got into SNU and Yonsei?"
"Missed the mark on the K, but two out of the big three isn't so bad," says Jaebum, as if he hadn't heard the first part of Jinyoung's sentence. "I got into the business program but I didn't really want to get called out for bad marketing choices that I didn't even make." He cracks his knuckles and props his chin on his palm. "I would have gone into Hanyang or Konkuk for film but they gave me a partial ride here, so that's that."
Jinyoung sets his empty cup on the table and closes his eyes. The dull thunk rings loud and clear, as annoying as the migraine threatening to burst in his mind. "How are you real?"
"What?"
"You're like some dude that stepped out of a movie," Jinyoung observes. "A really upbeat teenybopper film about overachievers with spectacular lives. Do you have a reality show we're supposed to know about?" He looks around, warily. "Are we secretly filming right now?"
"No way," Jaebum protests, laughing at Jinyoung's paranoia. "Even if I did, I'd never be able to show my face here. It's already bad enough people recognize me."
Then why didn't you just take some off-campus course, Jinyoung thinks. Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and squares his shoulders. "I still don't understand one thing though. Like, how is that even possible that you get these things handed to you on a silver platter?"
"I wouldn't say I didn't do much," Jaebum retorts. "Sure, you'd be surprised what a superficially impeccable transcript does for you, but you can't rely on just that."
"How do you even have time to do anything, though? Weren't you always off practicing or following a schedule?" Jinyoung backtracks, and only realizes his mistake when Jaebum loses the pinched expression on his face. The whole point of keeping someone at arm's length is not keeping up the pretense of actively being interested in their lives, and Jinyoung's fucking it up with his curiosity.
"My agency wasn't so bad," says Jaebum, making a thoughtful noise at the back of his throat. "Plus my high school was more lenient with my situation than normal." He stirs his own coffee with a plastic spoon and grimaces. "It was great at first, but then I nearly keeled over from trying to cram everything for the standardized tests."
"I hate you," says Jinyoung, sounding as hollow as the contents of his cup. Jaebum doesn't take him too seriously, though, and gives him a smug albeit hesitant smile. Whatever, Jinyoung thinks, wiping the dumbfounded look on his face and replacing it with calculated calm. Like he'd ever give Jaebum the satisfaction.
He doesn't expect Jaebum to get it. Guys like him don't really realize how hard everything is for everyone else, because by some act of god they managed to win the lottery in life. Jaebum must have saved an entire continent, and meanwhile Jinyoung's past self must have spent the entire time kicking unsuspecting kittens left and right. No amount of hagwon sessions had given Jinyoung a shot at his first choice in Yonsei, never mind KU.
He chalks it up as yet another reason to become the head of his anti-fan club, if it even exists. He wonders if it's too late to sign up.
"Oh no," says Youngjae, putting his hand up like the supportive friend Jinyoung doesn't have. "Unless this is life-threatening, I don't wanna know. You are not having a crisis in front of me again. It was cute and hilarious the first few times, but this is getting ridiculous."
Jackson shoves Youngjae aside gleefully. "To hell with that," says Jackson, eyes lighting up. "This is my only source of entertainment ever since the router at the dorm broke down. What happened to you now?"
Jinyoung ignores Youngjae's plaintive wail of "I HAVE AN EXAM" and recounts his earlier conversation with Jaebum, albeit with more embellishments of Jaebum's supposedly superior tone and his feigned casual air. Youngjae looks like he wants to stuff his notebook down Jackson's mouth every time he cracks up at Jinyoung's (extremely serious!!!) retelling. Jinyoung's just glad he has someone to listen ever since Yugyeom had rudely shouted at him over the phone, stressed and pissed off about linear equations and quadrants.
"It's like the universe is taunting me," Jinyoung finishes into his bowl of tofu soup. "How can I make fun of a guy who apparently has a well-rounded brain to go with his abs?"
"His abs," Jackson repeats, sounding even more thrilled. "How do you even know he has abs?"
Jinyoung stifles his scream and covers Jackson's mouth with his hand. "Shut up!" He hisses, pointedly not thinking of Jaebum's infamous photoshoot when he was seventeen, the equivalent of a fetus in the kpop world, oh god, he's going to hell. He shrieks when Jackson's tongue licks at his palm. Disgusting.
"This is starting to sound like a drama, except super boring and traumatizing to my soul," Youngjae comments, already surrendering to the hysteria. "I can't believe I just participated in this conversation."
They continue to ignore Youngjae's distress. No one should listen to anyone knee-deep in exams. "And he's in engineering," Jackson taunts. "Should I set up more dates?"
"No."
"Come on, he's like your dream guy already," Jackson whines. "This is much better than having a girlfriend from Canada. Because, you know, he's living. He's breathing. He's male."
"Please shut up," Jinyoung is begging by now. "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation."
"I learned this in Psych, you know," Jackson boasts. He squints and rubs at his forehead. "Or was it a chick flick? Whatever. But the point is, the more you talk about hating a person, the more your subconscious actually wants to, like, bang him."
"What," says Jinyoung, flatly. Youngjae closes his eyes. He's probably thinking that if he closes them long enough, Jackson will go away.
"You are strangely obsessed with pointing out how good-looking he is. Even when it's unsolicited."
ASHDSGHFSDHFKS, Jinyoung's brain says. He sobs into his bowl, wondering when Jackson became reasonable. "Why does everything have to be about dicks with you?"
"Just give in, Jinyoung," says Jackson, seriously. "I don't think I can stand any more questions about you courtesy of JB. There's no accounting for taste even if he has a lot of money in his hands."
"Why would he even be asking about me?" Jinyoung mumbles into his soup, then he sits up, back ramrod straight. Youngjae and Jackson trade long-suffering looks. "Oh god, is he out to exact revenge on me for talking crap about him? I haven't even made a hate club for him yet!"
"I used to think you were the most insensitive person in this table, hyung," Youngjae tells Jackson. "I hate it when I'm wrong."
"Thanks a lot, bastard," says Jackson, but Jinyoung's ignoring them, already shoving his stuff into his bag and making plans.
Yugyeom finds him bent over his desk much, much later, strolling into Jinyoung's house like the second son his parents never had. (He is.) Jinyoung's been running on adrenaline and three refills of tea so he doesn't blame himself if he yelps and almost falls over his seat when Yugyeom breathes down his neck like the horrifying kid from Ju-on. No one has the right to sneak up on people like that, and then judge them immediately with an assessing smirk.
"That's super pathetic," Yugyeom feels the need to inform him when he catches Jinyoung googling any and all variations of how to make an anti-fan club. Did you mean how to join Im Jaebum's fan club, Google asks instead, to which he backspaces faster than he's ever done at six in the morning on a weekend. "Like, I know I make fun of you all the time, but this is a new low even for you."
Jinyoung bats away the condescending pat to the head that Yugyeom gives him, increasingly irate. "No one asked you."
"The first step to fixing your life is admitting you have a problem."
Jinyoung cocks a threatening eyebrow at him. "How about I fix your face instead?" The asshole just laughs.
"We had counseling sessions the other day and my homeroom teacher wouldn't stop bugging me about my answers," says Yugyeom. "If he could see you now, he'd understand why I told him I'd rather be anything but you."
"All the teachers loved me," Jinyoung insists dolefully, rubbing at his eyes. "You're crazy."
"Not as crazy as a guy devoting his weekend to contemplating signing up for a fan club. A paid fan club, by the way."
Jinyoung doesn't bother to dignify that with an answer, too busy checking his bank account and oh god what if they trace IP addresses, what if.
"Thanks for giving me a glimpse into the scary life of a saesang," says Yugyeom, raiding Jinyoung's fridge without batting an eyelash, like the little neighbor brat he is. Not cute. When he can't find anything he likes, he shuffles over to drape himself across Jinyoung's hunched back. "It looks kind of sad from this angle."
"Don't you have exams?" Jinyoung demands, hoping against all hope that Yugyeom doesn't notice the tab labeled OBLIGATORY IM JAEBUM BODY APPRECIATION POST that he's been casually browsing. Since last night. Okay, maybe two nights ago, but who the hell is even counting? Only the girl's hit counter at least.
Yugyeom is irked enough that it works, and he pushes himself off hanging on Jinyoung's shoulder. "It's Sunday, give me a break."
"Seniors don't get breaks until some university feels sorry enough for them. Get out before I tell on you."
"Pathetic, hyung," Yugyeom reminds him, and goes off to bother someone else.
Screw Jinyoung stalking Jaebum. If he's thought last week's fiasco was bad enough, Jaebum is suddenly everywhere.
Jaebum still doesn't sit with them during class, but he does make it a point to make small talk before or after the lecture, knees propped up against the empty armchair in front of Jackson and Jinyoung. Jinyoung doesn't tell him about spending the entire weekend googling his career and arranging his variety show cuts in chronological order when Jaebum asks about his drooping eyelids and incessant yawn, opting instead to shrink into himself and rely on Jackson's mouth running off to distract Jaebum. He really doesn't want to give Jackson more ammunition than he already has.
Outside of class, Jinyoung catches him in the main library more often than not. It's disconcerting and keeps Jinyoung on edge, because he knows for a fact that the engineering department has a more impressive selection for Jaebum's assignments instead of the general references scattered in Jinyoung's floor. Jaebum doesn't talk to him all the time - just. A little bit. Like, 80% of the time.
He learns a bit more about Jaebum, small stuff like his schedule (all the better to avoid him with), his deep and profound struggle in the one business elective he's taking this semester, and, god forbid, the number of books he's checked out from freshman year. He's expecting a juvenile title to come out, sandwiched in between all the calculus and physics references somewhere, but no dice. Jaebum probably checks out Wattpad obsessively instead.
Jaebum is, surprisingly, unfailingly boring and safe. He hasn't joined a frat, if the lack of rampant exhibitionism and delinquency is any indication of it, nor has he gotten in with the serial party crowd yet, even if Jinyoung knows from Jackson's Facebook photos that he goes to some parties when invited by his other friends. It's an entirely different world from what Jinyoung associates with the Jaebum who snores in his sleep when he's too tired to function, slumped over a desk in the library with the hood of his jacket yanked over his head to keep the fluorescent lights out. But seeing Jaebum with an arm around an inebriated senior and a red solo cup in hand through his laptop screen is more reminiscent of the image Jinyoung has of him, raucous and uncaring of consequences and just entirely out of anyone's league.
("Are you stroking your screen?" Jimin asks over his shoulder. Jinyoung pulls his hand back, burned, and shoots her a look of utter loathing.)
He's slowly come to terms with the fact that he can't get rid of Jaebum yet. Jaebum sometimes drops by for lunch, though Jinyoung knows for a fact that his other friends have been shamelessly teasing him for it - Jinyoung tries not to break out into a cold sweat every time Yoo Youngjae stares at him with a shit-eating grin that rivals Jackson's - and it's surprising that Jaebum hasn't let his temper get the best of him outside of indignant yelling laced with laughter and a few well-directed kicks at his friends.
"I blame you for this," Jinyoung whispers furiously to Jackson as Jaebum plops down beside Mark to talk about some FPS game coming out next season. Jackson just looks smug and not even the least bit repentant.
"I'm just doing my part in getting the celebrity reintegrated back into civilian life," Jackson brags. "Think of it as community service. If I get to do that while taking advantage of his attachment to you, then it's practically a win-win situation for me."
"What attachment?" Jinyoung says, scrunching up his nose. "I'm only acting like a decent person because I know you'll do something embarrassing if I don't."
"I don't think you're too hung up about it as much as you claim you are," says Jackson, and Jinyoung would love to do nothing more than wipe the smug expression off of his face with his fist. "And if you haven't noticed anything by now, you're an idiot."
Jinyoung's hackles rise. "What?"
"Forget it," says Jackson, waving him off. "Don't you have a shift in half an hour?" He stands up and catcalls at Jaebum. "Yo, pop star! Weren't you on your way to the library?"
"Yeah?" Jaebum says, looking up. "What's up?"
"Jinyoung's gonna head over to work in a bit," says Jackson, coolly. Jinyoung kicks him under the table. "You should walk with him to ward off the perverts."
Jaebum's expression changes into one of extreme concern and discomfort. "You're being trailed by perverts?"
"More like he's the pervert," Youngjae mutters under his breath. Jinyoung kicks him for that as well. "Save yourself, hyung. Please."
"We're just concerned about Jinyounggie since he's such a space case sometimes," says Jackson, voice dripping with the sincerity he's never had since birth. Jinyoung cracks his knuckles threateningly.
Jaebum still looks worried, and Jinyoung still wants the earth to swallow him up. Both are completely out of his control, unfortunately, because apparently Jaebum has a white knight complex and the earth is not anywhere near apocalyptic levels of seismic shifts and divine intervention. "You should talk to campus security about that."
"It's fine if you don't," Jinyoung insists.
"Nah, it's okay," says Jaebum, crushing Jinyoung's hopes and dreams further. "Give me a sec to pack up my stuff. I'll walk with you."
Jinyoung waits until Jaebum's back is turned before he expresses his gratitude to Jackson via a look of despair. Thank me later, Jackson mouths, but Jinyoung interprets it as see you in hell.
They're getting better at small talk so it isn't as awkward as the first disastrous attempt, but Jinyoung still feels fidgety and out of depth around Jaebum. It's like a chokehold on his spine that just won't quit, and it's foreboding enough without the gritty prickling of his skin every time Jaebum's elbow accidentally knocks against his. The innocuous conversation has its fair share of hiccups and false starts, but they get through the (excruciatingly long) walk without much incident, save for when a bicycle almost runs over Jinyoung and Jaebum yanks him to his side like - and Jinyoung is never gonna quit thinking about this - some godforsaken male drama lead. It honestly makes his spine tingle with mortification.
"So here you are," says Jaebum, releasing him and gesturing towards the steps leading to the library.
"Here I am," Jinyoung echoes. He opens his palms and shakes them, as if to prove a point. "No perverts."
"No perverts," Jaebum agrees, "but you're like an accident waiting to happen. Jackson wasn't kidding about the spacing out, was he?"
If you weren't so damn distracting Jinyoung almost says, but thankfully keeps his mouth firmly shut. "Whatever you say, Jaebum-sshi," he mumbles.
Jinyoung doesn't know what to expect, but it certainly isn't Jaebum taking a few steps closer to him and plucking a leaf out of his hair. Jinyoung almost chokes. Fall is the worst season ever. "Hey," says Jaebum, "call me hyung, okay?"
"Uh," says Jinyoung, taking his cue of idiocy from Jackson, "as long as it isn't oppa, then fine."
Jaebum laughs so hard the skin around his eyes crinkle with glee. "I knew you had a sense of humor in there, somewhere."
That's it. Jinyoung quits. He's filing for a leave of absence tomorrow and joining a cult of ascetic monks, away from mocking celebrities and negative influences in life. He doesn't think his pride can handle any more of this.
To his credit, Jaebum doesn't prolong his agony, but his face does fall a bit when Jinyoung remains silent. He offers a small smile and waves, feet kicking up a few stray leaves on the ground as he turns his back to walk away. Jinyoung watches him take a few steps in confusion, and before he can remind himself that he doesn't care, he blurts out, "Aren't you coming inside?"
It stops Jaebum in his tracks, and the look he gives Jinyoung over his shoulder is gratified, almost, if not a little embarrassed. "Nah, I gotta head over to the engineering building," Jaebum confesses. "See you, then."
Jinyoung doesn't get to ask him why he'd gone all the way to the main library - the engineering department is all the way to the other side, opposite of the direction they'd headed towards. He would have gotten there faster if he hadn't taken the detour past the student center. Hell, he would have gotten there without having to drop Jinyoung off, too out of the way and inconvenient.
Jinyoung shakes his head and keeps his hands tucked in his jean pockets. He really doesn't understand Jaebum at all.
one | part two | three | four | five | six