past lives (1/2)
past lives
nayeon/dowoon/seungcheol
pg, 17538w
a/n: sequel to kirakirashahida's light years . all i wanted was for my girl nayeon to be happy but ha ha ha what started off as a drabble took on a life of its own and evolved into this 17k monster. it's not worthy of your masterpiece shida but thank you for letting me write it ;___;
In the setting sun, Seungcheol’s eyes are the colour of fish sauce. Anchovy sauce, to be more precise. The thought of anchovy sauce makes her think of kimchi and her stomach growls in response. Nayeon groans and flops backwards on the grass beside the basketball court, staring up at the sky. The days are still short but with every day that passes the air grows just that little bit warmer - just another reminder that winter is leaving them.
“Oi, Seungcheol time to get going or your mother will worry!” she yells at the clouds. She hears a loud curse and the sound of the ball smacking against the court floor as the boys burst out laughing. She doesn’t need to look up to see Seungcheol grimacing as he gets shoved around by his friends.
“You’ve seriously gotta stop doing that,” Seungcheol glares at her when he trudges off the court and throws himself down beside her. “I was just about to score a three-pointer and you freaking made me miss.” He shoves his water bottle rather brusquely into his bag and blows upwards into his sweaty fringe.
“You would’ve missed anyway,” Nayeon grins. “I’m starving. You owe me a chocolate bun for making me wait.” Her stomach gives another pointed rumble as she gets to her feet and throws his heavy winter jacket at him. Seungcheol rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, with the amount of food you eat you’re gonna wake up one day and find that you’ve grown three times your size and can’t get out of bed.” Nayeon smacks him on the back only to come away with a palm full of sweat. “That’s what you get when you make me miss my three-pointer,” he tells her as she makes a horrified noise of protest and holds her hand out in front of her as if it’s been infected. She only stops grumbling when he stops by the bakery near his house and buys her a bun to shut her up.
“I’ve only been at school for 10 days and I’m already ready to graduate,” Nayeon groans, turning around and dramatically flinging her head on Seungcheol’s desk. Her hair spills over the surface and covers his phone where Lebron James was just about to shoot. Seungcheol pulls his hands and phone out from under her hair and places it on top without even batting an eyelid.
“You can’t graduate if you can’t pass your exams.” he says indifferently. “And if you can’t graduate you can’t get into Yonsei and go back to bothering Park Jinyoung instead of me. So please pass your exams. For my sake.”
For a few seconds Nayeon doesn’t respond and Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see if she’s fallen asleep. He can’t see anything under her mass of hair so he scoops up the side where he thinks her face is and pokes her cheek. “Hey. I was joking. You’re not still hung up over him are you?”
He’s rewarded with a glare that would melt the face off anyone other than him. “I’m not that pathetic Choi Seungcheol,” she declares, and sits up so fast that his phone slides off her hair and almost falls off the table if not for his (self-proclaimed) lightning quick reflexes. He clutches his most precious possession (second only to his basketball shoes) to his chest and stares up at her as she clatters to her feet and snatches up her duffle coat. “I’m going to buy some bread,” she says fiercely, looking down at him. Her eyes are murderous. “What the hell do you want?”
“Uhh, curry bread is fine,” Seungcheol says, a little bewildered at the sudden shift in her mood. She gives a sharp nod, turns violently and stalks towards the door. “Oh, and get me a Yakult too while you’re at it!” he yells at her back. She responds by slamming the sliding door behind her. The classroom noise dies a little at the sound but starts right back up a moment later.
“What did you do to her?” Jeonghan asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Girls are weird,” Seungcheol shakes his head. Jeonghan nods sleepily in agreement and puts his head back under his textbook. Seungcheol sighs. Deep down he’s perfectly aware by the weird little inflection in her voice when she said she was fine that she really probably wasn’t.
“Dumb,” Nayeon narrows her eyes at the vending machine as she looks for the Yakult. “Boys are dumb. Boys are so so SO DUMB!” she punches a finger into the button a little too violently and the machine shakes a little as the drink falls into the tray. A few passing students glance at her before deciding to give the angry girl glowering at the vending machine a wide berth. They’ll just wait til the next break for their banana milk.
“I’ll never trust another boy again,” Nayeon announces to the ceiling as she walks back to the classroom. “They’re all dumb.” She’s just entered the senior hallway when someone comes out of the classroom behind theirs and walks towards her.
Nayeon’s first thought is that she’s never seen this guy before. Her second thought is whoa.
He doesn’t even spare her a glance when they pass each other, but it feels less of him ignoring her and more of him looking at his feet. His hair is dark and messier than Seungcheol’s and even though it looks as though he’s the same height as her best friend there’s something about him that seems taller. She stops and watches his back as he walks down the corridor. Gangly seems like a better word for it, she thinks. There’s an awkward ungainliness in his walk, as if his body had suddenly grown overnight and he still hasn’t caught up with it.
But despite all of that - his height, his hair, the small black earphones nestled his ears - the one thing that really catches Nayeon’s eye is his hands. Drumming rapidly through the air in short, sharp gestures, occasionally stretching out beyond him to hit what Nayeon can only guess is an invisible cymbal. He doesn’t even flinch when another guy walks past and gives him a weird look. She’s never seen anyone like this before; someone who walks with such an air of self-consciousness and yet doesn’t seem perturbed by anything at all.
Nayeon keeps looking until he turns to go down the stairs and disappears from sight.
Seungcheol drops his bag on the floor as soon as he closes the door behind him. “Ma, what’s for dinner?” he calls out as he takes off his shoes, fully intending to collapse on the couch and pass out until he’s called to eat. He gets the rudest shock of his life when he walks into the living room to find Nayeon sitting cross-legged on said couch, eating out of a huge packet of his corn puffs and playing Breath of the Wild on (dare he say) his Nintendo Switch.
“What in the actual f -,” he starts, then remembers his mother is in the kitchen and hastily shuts his mouth. He settles for a glare as Nayeon smiles that bunny-toothed smile at him. Nayeon has several bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions and this one seems to be the ha, totally got you this time didn’t I? one. “Don’t you have a home to go to?” he manages instead, striding over and taking the Switch from her (“Hey, I’m in the middle of a fight!”).
“Ever since my dearest oppa went to university and left me behind the house has been too quiet,” Nayeon says with an expert lip tremble, pulling the corn puff bag out of the way so he can’t take it from her too. “You’re the only family I have left.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, trying to snatch at the bag. “Don’t try to give me that, your parents are still alive and kicking. And they probably don’t like you spending most of your time in someone else’s house. Especially a dude’s.” She smacks his hand away and he stares at her in mock horror.
“Come on, I bet you secretly love having me around,” Nayeon smirks at him. “Your mom definitely does and she doesn’t make a secret out of it, right omoni?” she yells towards the kitchen.
“Seungcheol stop being rude to your friend!” his mother yells back. Nayeon laughs as Seungcheol deadpans. “We’re having bibimbap,” she tells him. “And I made the anchovy side dish. So you’d better eat it.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Seungcheol says vaguely, eyes already on the Switch, picking up where she left off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her make a movement as if she’s about to smack him one but seems to change her mind and sinks into the cushions behind her. She puts her legs up on his knees. “So how was practice?” she asks.
“Tiring as hell. We had tryouts,” he replies distractedly. He finishes the battle and puts down the Switch, holding out his hand for the corn puff bag. Nayeon passes it to him without hesitation. “This new guy in our year tried out and he’s actually pretty good. Too bad he probably won’t get to play much since Sungjae will probably want to concentrate more on the first years.”
“I didn’t know we had a new kid,” Nayeon thinks back to the guy she passed in the corridor the other day. Could it be…?
“It’s weird right? Changing schools in your last year. A little dumb if you ask me. Having to make new friends, get a new uniform, get used to the teachers… plus he’s so quiet I can’t imagine him making much of an impression on anyone. Kinda sad, really.” Seungcheol stuffs a handful of corn puffs into his mouth and frowns. The bag feels a little too light for his liking.
“What was his name?” Nayeon goes back to looking at her phone. Seungcheol takes a peek into the bag and only finds a small handful of puffs left. He looks sadly over at her and wonders how on earth he managed to be friends with someone who can eat a whole bag of corn puffs on her own.
“I don’t remember. Like I said, he didn’t make much of an impression,” he pushes her legs off his and gets up to see what else he can snack on before his mother yells at him for spoiling his appetite.
She sneaks over to the gym every lunch time when Seungcheol is there, knowing that one way or another the mysterious new boy would be around there too. Or at least, he should be.
If he is, she doesn’t see him.
Nayeon sighs as she slumps on one of the benches overlooking the playing field. Her breath still forms in puffs in the chilly air. Some boys are kicking a football around, and in one corner the school cheerleaders are rehearsing a routine. Nayeon watches them all without much interest, thinking instead of how best to go about getting the guy’s name.
She could storm the next class and ask Kim Jisoo (she’s always found it hilarious how both their classes have a Jisoo as a class rep) for his name but she knows all too well that asking for the name of someone of the opposite sex is just asking for some very loud wolf whistles and inappropriate suggestions. Or she could just look for Jisoo in the library where she always is and just ask her there.
“Yes!” Nayeon says to herself, bolting to her feet. That’s exactly what she’ll do. Jisoo would be fine with it. She turns to run down to the library before the bell goes and that’s when she sees him walking up the hallway.
His hands are in his pockets this time and his earphones aren’t in his ears and the energy she felt when she first passed him in the corridor just doesn’t seem to be there. For a second their eyes meet briefly, and then he hurriedly looks back at his feet and walks on.
Nayeon watches him go, then runs off to the library.
His name is Yoon Dowoon.
“He just arrived from Busan. He’s so shy and his voice is so deep and low that on the first day when he came in none of us could really hear what he said,” Jisoo leans back in her chair and scrutinizes Nayeon. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just heard rumours that we had a new guy,” Nayeon tries to play it cool but Jisoo’s smile is all-knowing. “Seungcheol told me when they had basketball tryouts. He said he was pretty good.”
Jisoo nods. “Oh yeah, Sanghyuk mentioned it too. I don’t see how he’d be able to work in a team though; I mean he hardly talks to anyone.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I’d really like to help him but it’s really hard to keep talking to someone who barely responds.”
“Hmm,” Nayeon replies. “Anyway, I’d better leave you to your studying,” she vaguely waves a hand at the books stacked up on the table. She’s always sort of admired Jisoo for being able to eat up books for nourishment. The only thing she could really eat is bread bought by Seungcheol.
“I heard he’s a drummer in a band by the way,” Jisoo calls out as she turns to go. Everyone raises their heads to look at her and the librarian gives them a stern look from the counter. Jisoo grins mischievously despite the disapproval and waggles her eyebrows at Nayeon. “In case you wanted to know.”
Nayeon tries to imagine Yoon Dowoon behind a drum set, cymbals glinting gold under bright lights, hands moving rapidly, and finds that it isn’t hard to believe at all.
“Oi,” Seungcheol snaps his fingers in front of Nayeon’s face. He’d dragged his chair up to her desk a minute ago but she hadn’t asked what he wanted or even tried to shove him away, so he figured something was probably up. He waves a hand in front of her face, notices the faraway look in her eyes as she leans her elbows against her desk, hands cupping her chin. She’s a million miles away, and it’s a look he’s seen a thousand other times before though it hasn’t been around much lately.
He points a finger in front of her eye and traces her line of sight out of the classroom to the hallway. He catches a glimpse of steadily moving hands as a boy walks into view. A boy he’s seen before. His hair is mussed and he seems to be in his own world as he walks in front of the doorway. He traces the line back as Nayeon’s face lights up into the widest, biggest bunny-toothed smile. What.
“Really?” he asks incredulously. The name comes to him so easily he’s surprised he even forgot it. “Yoon Dowoon?”
Almost immediately Nayeon snaps out of it. “What do you want?” she kicks at his chair leg. “I’m busy here.”
“Ogling at the new boy doesn’t count as ‘busy’,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “He’s a weirdo, you know. No one goes around air drumming all the time. And he doesn’t even talk to anyone. He’s never going to talk to you.”
“What the hell do you know about him huh? You couldn’t even remember his name,” Nayeon rolls her eyes back, trying to push him out of the way as Dowoon makes his way past the classroom. “Jisoo-K says he’s a drummer in a band. Isn’t that so cool?” Her eyes follow his every move and Seungcheol can almost see them sparkling in admiration. He scoffs in disbelief.
“I probably know more than you do,” he shoots back, throwing his arms up in surrender as she shoves at his chair with her foot, almost toppling him over. “Geez, I’ll leave you alone alright? Stop trying to injure me, woman.”
“I need to think of a good way to accidentally bump into him,” Nayeon says half to herself as Dowoon disappears from view. She suddenly grabs on to Seungcheol’s school jacket, smiling that wheedling, innocent smile she always uses when she wants him to get bread for her. “Hey Seungcheol, you’re my best friend aren’t you?”
“I’m not setting you up,” Seungcheol deadpans, dragging his seat back to his desk behind her. “I don’t even know the guy. And you were a lot less wild when you were in love with Park Jinyoung,” he adds.
For a second Nayeon’s smile fizzles as if something has interfered with the connection, then returns even brighter. “Jinyoung wasn’t a bad boy.” She winks at him as Seungcheol mimes throwing up on the floor. He watches her out of the corner of one eye as she bounds to the classroom door and sticks her head outside, probably staring after Yoon Dowoon. 6 months since she last saw Park Jinyoung and the light in her eyes still dulls a little every time she hears his name.
Seungcheol sighs and digs his phone out of his pocket. Practice with the new recruits next week? he texts to Sungjae.
Yeah. Got a practice match soon. I’ll probably call that Dowoon guy to come as well.
Seungcheol looks over at Nayeon in the doorway, still grinning to herself. Im Nayeon has a variety of bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions, but he’s pretty sure he’s never seen one as deliriously happy as the one she had when she was looking at Yoon Dowoon. He sighs again.
Cool.
Plenty of surprising things have happened in Dowoon’s life - his parents’ divorce, losing his scarf one day and finding it on the pavement a week later, having to drop everything in Busan and move to Seoul with his father - but nothing has really been as surprising as getting called to practice with his new school’s basketball team.
“You’re good,” says the vice-captain, a sleepy-looking guy with an obstinate mouth. Dowoon vaguely remembers his name as Seungcheol. “To be honest we’ll probably end up giving more playing opportunities to the younger kids since we all won’t be able to play as much soon, but it’s good to have you come to practice anyway.”
“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Thanks.”
“And if… you know… if you need, like, help or anything like that, you can ask me or something.”
“What?”
A frown flits across Seungcheol’s face, then clears. “It’s not easy being a new kid,” he finally says, and to Dowoon it sounds like he’s struggling to get the words out of his mouth. The discomfort in Seungcheol’s face is almost laughable and he tries to keep from grinning. “…”
“Oi Seungcheol, get over here and help me check on these kid’s footwork!” the captain - Sungjae, Dowoon thinks his name was - suddenly yells from the court. Dowoon thinks he sees something like relief written on Seungcheol’s face when he gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder and gets up a little too eagerly. He isn’t too surprised. People always tend to be more than willing to get away from him.
“Like I said!” Seungcheol suddenly turns around and yells, walking backwards. “Just ask!” He throws a thumbs-up into the air and runs off.
For the first time since coming to Seoul, Dowoon smiles.
He still doesn’t quite know the school layout so when Jisoo announces that he’s on homework duty today everyone turns to look at him to see if he’ll ask for help to get to the teacher’s office. Jisoo’s polite expression is particularly nudging.
But try as he might he just can’t muster up the courage to look people in eye much less ask them for directions so when the bell goes for the end of the day and people start leaving he goes up to the front desk and heaves the enormous pile of notebooks into his arms without saying a word.
“Dowoon!” Jisoo taps him on the shoulder. “Do you know where the teacher’s office is? Do you want me to show you?”
He can’t quite look her in the eye so he settles for her nose. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s okay. Thanks.” He tries to look reassuring. He’s sure it doesn’t suit his face. Jisoo doesn’t look like she believes him but she nods and lets him go anyway.
Dowoon was so sure the teacher’s office was down the stairs and a right turn into the next building so how is it that he’s ended up standing in the middle of an empty hallway with nothing but the music rooms on either side of him?
If his hands were free he would facepalm.
He’s heading back the way he came and has just started up the stairs when a girl turns the corner. He’s seen her around before, maybe. She might be in the class next to his. He might have passed her in the corridor. He pauses to let her go first but she stops at the landing, her hand on the railing. Her head tilts to one side.
“Hey, you’re the new guy aren’t you?” she asks. He thinks he detects something like breathlessness in her voice but he can’t be too sure.
“Yeah.”
“Are you on homework duty today?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you lost?”
Dowoon weighs his options. He could try going alone again and get hopelessly lost (again) or for once in his life he could just ask for help. He looks up at the girl and she stares expectantly back. She smiles the friendliest smile he has ever seen since leaving the town he grew up in, and he makes up his mind.
“Actually yeah,” he says with an awkward laugh. “I guess I’m a little lost.”
She bounds down the stairs and takes half of the notebooks from him before he can even blink. He tries to protest but she shakes her head. “It’ll be weird if I just showed you the way and let you carry everything on your own,” she says, starting up the stairs again. “Follow me.”
He follows her (they turn right at the staircase) and when they get into the other building she turns left and heads back down the stairs. “You’d think it’ll all be straightforward or something but nooo,” she says when they arrive at the door marked teacher’s room. “Go ahead and knock.”
“Uhhh…” he says uncertainly.
“This is math isn’t it? You’ll be looking for Mr. Byun.”
She’s still staring at him so he steels himself, balances the stack of books in one hand and knocks with the other. They march in silently with their backs as straight as they can be and set the books on the desk a teacher points out to them, then march just as quietly back out. When they head back up the stairs Dowoon and the girl look at each other and she starts chuckling. He grins.
(“You should make some friends,” his dad says as they sit together in the morning, the freshly brewed pot of coffee sending tendrils of steam into the air. In the morning sunlight his father’s thinning hair seems less grey and the boxes of their unpacked stuff seems less of a reminder of their pain and more like a symbol of a fresh start. “I know it’ll be your only year in that school but you should still make some good memories of your last year. You won’t get it again.”
Dowoon swallows the last of his bread and jam. “I’ll try.”
It’s been almost a month and he still hasn’t really tried.)
“I’m Nayeon, by the way,” the girl tells him when she stops laughing. Dowoon suddenly realizes where he’s seen her before - scolding the vending machine near the gym two weeks ago. He ended up having to wait until lunch to get his grape juice because he was too scared to go near her. He feels his shoulders relax a little.
“I’m Dowoon,” he says. She smiles like she already knows.
Suddenly the days feel a lot lighter to Nayeon. It isn’t just the prospect of warmer weather, it’s also the fact that she actually talked to Yoon Dowoon. Without turning into a tomato. Amazing. Granted he couldn’t really look her in the eye and the air of awkwardness around him only seemed to magnify but still. She talked to him. And he replied.
She spies him when she enters the cafeteria. The rain that’s been threatening to fall for the past few days has finally broken into a soft constant drizzle and Seungcheol is home with a fever (probably from playing too much basketball) so she’s alone during lunch. He’s sitting at a small table beside the window, his earphones hung over his ears and absentmindedly swirling his kimchi jjigae around with his spoon.
Nayeon grabs a tray and heads over. “Hey,” she says when she’s beside him. He gives a start and almost knocks the bowl over. She tries to keep from smiling too hard.
“Oh, umm, hi,” he stammers, hurriedly setting the spoon down with a clatter.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He pulls his tray towards him to make some space and nods, still looking down at the table. She likes the way his hair falls into his eyes. Nayeon notices the small black studs in his ears as she places her own tray down and takes a seat. She wants to ask him so much why his ears are pierced, where he did it, how much did it hurt? She’s aware that she had never felt this same amount of curiousity when she looked at Jinyoung.
“Man, it’s really wet isn’t it?” she remarks as she picks up a mini pancake between her chopsticks as delicately as she can. She once tried to make kimchi pajeon as small as this when Jinyoung came over after school but the consistency was rubbish and she ended up throwing everything out. He and her brother never found out. “Nothing like a spring shower to get you in a good mood.”
“Hmm,” says Dowoon. She looks up to find him looking at her pajeon, and he hastily returns his gaze out the window. There’s a small section of his hair that isn’t flowing the same way as the rest. She thinks it’s adorable.
“Does it rain a lot in Busan?”
“Yeah, especially around this time.” He’s still staring out the window. She used to see the same wistfulness in Jinyoung’s eyes when he looked at Suji.
“Rain like this reminds me of my hometown,” she says, spearing a potato and popping it into her mouth to distract herself from the unexpected memory. He looks at her, and she realizes just how unladylike that was. She curses inwardly. “We used to live along the coast but moved here when I was in primary school,” she says by way of explanation. There’s a little gleam of recognition in his eyes now. “Whenever it rains like this the smell reminds me a little of the ocean.”
The corner of his mouth lifts a little. His gaze doesn’t break. “It’s a good smell isn’t it?”
She smiles back. “The best.”
They spend the remainder of lunch finishing off their food in a slightly more comfortable silence. When they go to return their trays and walk back to the classroom, taking care not to bump into each other, the rain still hasn’t stopped.
“How was school today?” his father asks when he gets in the door. He smiles approvingly at the books scattered across the kitchen table, and Dowoon starts placing them in neater piles to make some space.
“There’s still some dubu jjigae left,” he says. “And some broiled fish. If you want.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already had dinner,” his father pats him on the shoulder a little awkwardly. They’ve never been much for skinship, he and his dad, but ever since the divorce Dowoon thinks he’s been trying a little harder. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t. “So how was school?” he repeats as he takes off his coat and shakes the droplets from it.
Dowoon thinks about Nayeon sitting across from him, shoving a potato into her mouth and talking about the smell of the rain. There’s something warm that seems to radiate from her, and while they didn’t talk much he was aware that for the rest of the school day the weight in his stomach that always seemed to be there had lessened a little.
“Good,” he replied. “Got plenty of homework,” he gestures at the books, “as you can see.” His father nods and mutters something about a good school knows how to work its kids right as he loosens his tie, then announces that he’s going to take shower.
“School today was less lonely,” Dowoon says to the closed bathroom door. He spins his pen in his hand and smiles to himself when his father starts to sing amidst the hiss of the water flowing from the shower head.
For the next three days Nayeon wakes up to a soft drizzle outside her window. It gives her an extra boost of energy as she jumps out of bed and rushes around getting ready for school. Apparently a crush who doesn’t live in the same neighbourhood isn’t quite enough to make her get out of bed on time but she still arrives at school earlier than usual in case she might ‘accidentally’ bump into him.
By lunchtime she’s fidgety and when the bell goes she waits a full five minutes before leaving. She’s just grateful that Seungcheol is still out sick since it means she can do whatever the hell she wants. Well, she’d still be able to do whatever the hell she wants but she’d also have to deal with his questions. And she can’t tell him about Dowoon. Not yet. Not until she’s certain that she’s not going to get her heart broken this time.
His smiles get a little less uncertain with each passing day. He’s always sitting in the same spot, looking out the window. One time his earphones were in and he took them out when she sat down. She told him to put them back on since she had some reading to do but in truth she just wanted to enjoy the silence between them. She hoped he found it as comfortable as she did.
“How long do you think this rain will last?” Dowoon asks on the fourth day of their sitting together. Nayeon is munching on a curry bun and trying to get her head around math. Dowoon has a half-eaten bibimbap and a world history textbook open. She actually caught him watching the entrance when she entered the cafeteria and he even smiled at her first when she walked over. It made her want to flip a table in happiness.
“Not that long,” she replies. “It probably won’t rain like this again until summer.”
He nods and goes back to his book. Nayeon has half a mind to ask if they can still have lunch together anyway but decides not to. She’s satisfied to just sit there with him and know that he’s content to do the same with her.
Over the weekend the rain clears. When Monday arrives Seungcheol comes back to school looking like death. Nayeon goes to the cafeteria like always but the table beside the window is empty.
“So I heard you’re in a band,” Seungcheol passes a bottle to Dowoon. Dowoon takes it with a tilt of the head. Seungcheol notices that he doesn’t drink it immediately.
“Yeah. Just a hobby, I guess.” Dowoon cracks open the lid. Seungcheol gets the impression that he doesn’t really want to talk about it.
“That’s pretty cool. My parents tried to get me to learn the violin as a kid but obviously that didn’t turn out so well.” He throws a bottle at a passing Jeonghan, who catches it neatly with one hand. Since he hasn’t quite recovered from his fever yet he’s on water bottle duty, which suits him just fine. “I, uhh, snapped a string on the first lesson,” he adds.
Dowoon manages an awkward laugh. It’s incredibly gratifying to Seungcheol, being able to make this strange, shy specimen of a guy actually smile. Even if it does seem a little forced. Their conversations are still pretty one-sided and the silences are still heavy with, well, silence, but he seems kind of cool. In a strange, shy kind of way. Seungcheol still can’t quite figure out what Nayeon sees in him, though. Oh well.
“Hey maybe one of these days we can hang out,” he finds himself blurting out. “Catch a movie or go to the arcade or something.” What.
The look of surprise on Dowoon’s face is actually pretty funny because if Seungcheol’s inner thoughts were conveyed on his face he’d probably have the same exact expression. But before Dowoon can reply Sungjae announces that break time is over and do they want to get their asses handed to them like the last practice match or what?
“That’ll be cool,” Dowoon hands the empty bottle back to Seungcheol. His hands reflexively closes around it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” For once Dowoon’s smile actually looks somewhat natural before he jogs away.
Nayeon catches up with him just before they get to school. He’s ambling along slowly with his usual morning sleepiness, a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth and his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He’s lost some weight since his fever but Nayeon leans over and steals the other slice sticking out from under his jacket collar anyway.
Seungcheol makes a noise of protest around his half-eaten toast and rapidly inhales the whole thing. “Hey, I need that,” he says, quickly swallowing. “I’ve got no lunch money.”
“I made some food,” Nayeon says nonchalantly, taking a big bite out of the toast as Seungcheol lunges for it. “I’ll give you some.”
The indignation on his face is replaced by extreme shock. “You actually made lunch? You? No way. Who are you and what have you done with Im Nayeon?”
“Shut up,” she frowns and punches him on the arm. “I’m a little broke too. I bought too many snacks. All those late nights spent studying, you know.” She hopes he buys it. Hell if she’s going to tell him that she made food so she could share it with Yoon Dowoon.
“Like hell you study. You went to sleep at 9pm the other night because you were bored,” Seungcheol pulls another slice of toast out of his pocket and starts chewing. “I have the messages if you want to see them.”
Nayeon doesn’t have a good comeback for that so she just keeps walking, swallowing the remnants of Seungcheol’s stolen toast. He finishes his second slice and fishes a third one out from the other pocket of his jacket just as the school gates come into view.
“Why don’t you have lunch money anyway?” she ventures.
“Gotta save up for… something.”
“What, you got a date?”
There’s a pause. “No,” Seungcheol replies lightly. Too lightly. Nayeon grabs his collar, staring wildly at him. Seungcheol never pauses before he answers. “Oh my god, do you actually have a date?!” she cries out. Several passing students start walking faster. She shakes him a little. “Choi Seungcheol!”
Eyes wide, he points at his throat, then at the half-eaten toast in his mouth, and she hurriedly releases him. He bends over, thumping on his chest and coughing crumbs out of his mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?!” he demands when he’s finished. She hands him a water bottle. He kicks her on the shin. “I swear you’re gonna kill me one of these days Im Nayeon.”
“So do you have a date or not?”
“I already told you no!”
“But you paused!”
“It was for dramatic effect you idiot!”
She gives him a long hard stare. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares back. They stand that way for some time, neither refusing to back down. Nayeon tries to look for a hint of a lie in his face but Seungcheol’s expression is impenetrable. He raises an eyebrow at her. Finally she blinks and pulls a face at him.
“Fine, I believe you. I’m sorry you almost choked to death on your toast.” She turns and starts walking again. Seungcheol falls into step beside her.
“Why is it such a big deal if I actually get a date anyway?” he asks.
She looks up at him. His expression tells her that he’s already guessed what her problem is. “I’d just like to know beforehand if you’re going out with a girl,” is all she says.
“…but why??”
“Because that’s just what friends do.” She looks straight ahead and shoves her hands into her jacket pockets to warm them, suddenly embarrassed by this whole conversation. “Anyway wouldn’t you like some advice from a fellow girl so you don’t fail spectacularly on your date?” She digs her elbow into his side.
He chuckles and elbows her back. “You know I would never betray you, Im Nayeon.”
“Good,” she says. They march through the school gates and across the grounds. She’s not pleased at the insinuation that she’d be jealous but she’s content with his promise. “Make sure you don’t.”
She’d shoved three rolls of kimbap and a Yakult into Seungcheol’s hands before claiming she was going to eat lunch with Jisoo-K and running out of the room. She searched the cafeteria high and low but couldn’t spot Dowoon, so she spent an extra 10 minutes searching the outdoor hallways in case she might run into him. She didn’t.
Jesus how much kimbap did you make if you can give me three? Seungcheol texts her as she sits alone on a bench under a ginkgo tree. It’s a good day, sunrays falling through the branches studded with tiny leaves and over her shoulders. Nayeon looks down at the box in her lap containing the remaining seven kimbap and sighs.
I’m starving, is all she texts back. The truth is she’s actually kind of lost her appetite for the day.
She starts walking listlessly back to the classroom, and that’s when she catches sight of messy hair bobbing between the bushes a stone’s throw from where she had been sitting. She stops dead in her tracks and decides to get closer to see if it really is him. It is; eyes closed, hair a dark brown in the bright sunlight, hands drumming to the song playing through his earphones, body physically here but his mind floating off in the outer reaches of space.
Nayeon could stand there and watch him forever, drinking in the energy flowing from him but instead she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and crouches down beside him. She taps him on the shoulder and he jumps violently, turning to stare at her. He quickly pulls his earphones off, his cheeks red. “Hi,” he says in a voice lower than usual. He clears his throat.
“Hey,” she beams. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”
His smile is a cross between pleased and uncertain. They stay like that for a few seconds and then she remembers why she really came. “Oh!” She digs out the box and opens it as elegantly as possible. “I made some kimbap to share with my friend but she ended up calling in sick,” she lies through her teeth. “You can take some if you’d like.”
“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Umm…” His mouth like he’s about to politely decline but his eyes seem to be saying something else. Nayeon seizes the opportunity.
“Come on,” she smiles her best, most cajoling smile. “I’ve got too many. If you don’t help me eat some now they won’t be nice anymore by the end of the day.” She thinks about going for a pout but decides not to. She’s going for charming, not childish. She pushes the box a little closer to him, silently prodding him along. “Don’t worry, I’m offering.”
“I…” Dowoon falters, but his hand is already reaching out a little. He hesitates, and looks at Nayeon as if asking for permission.
“Really, help yourself,” she tells him. He takes one, and she sets the box down between them as she settles on the grass beside him. The ground is a little damp but otherwise not too uncomfortable.
“Thanks,” he says.
She waves his thanks away. “Don’t mention it. How is it?”
“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” he replies, and she catches a hint of cheek in his voice.
“Excuse me?” She turns to him in mock horror, pressing a hand to her chest. “How dare you. I’ll have you know that I am the best cook in our year.” He only grins at her - a full blown smile this time - and chuckles. The fact that she actually managed to make him laugh stuns Nayeon into silence for a full second, and in confusion she takes a kimbap herself and starts chewing.
“Hey Nayeon,” Dowoon suddenly says. She gulps down her bite and tries to will herself to not blush. This is the first time he’s ever said her name. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
He smiles bashfully, his cheeks a little red again as he looks out at the playing field. The football kids are sprinting back and forth between two cones. On the other side the cheerleaders are practicing throws. Dowoon shrugs. “Just felt like thanking you.” He looks her square in the eye for a moment before turning away.
He can probably feel the heat radiating from her face. She’s really in trouble now.
Seungcheol waits for Dowoon at the train station. Nayeon had been in a really cheerful mood after her lunch with Jisoo-K, and when he told her he had things to do after school she said bye and left him without putting up a fight. She must have had a really good talk, Seungcheol speculated. It stung a little to think that he might be getting replaced after he told her that he wouldn’t betray her but he let it go a moment later. Let the girl have some girl time.
“I thought the new Fast and Furious was out but it isn’t yet,” he says when Dowoon arrives. He looks a lot more casual out of school, his shirt sticking out from under his jumper and a big scarf wrapped around his neck. The nervous air that usually accompanies him seems to have dispelled a little. Looking like that, Seungcheol can actually believe that he’s in a band. “But Logan is still showing, if you haven’t watched that.”
“Hmm,” says Dowoon. “I heard Logan’s pretty good.”
“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol nods. “I haven’t watched it either,” he says as they wait for the train. “Basketball has just sucked up all my free time. I love the sport,” he adds quickly, just in case Dowoon gets the wrong idea. “But being one of the people in charge is a huge burden. Chasing down kids who don’t turn up to practice is tiring as hell, you know?”
Dowoon grins. “I can imagine.” The train arrives. The seats are full so they stand by the doorway across from each other. Dowoon seems preoccupied with looking out the door, and although Seungcheol can’t see what’s so fascinating about the walls of the subway the carriage is a little quiet and he doesn’t want to make too much noise so he lapses into silence too until they arrive at their stop.
The train ride home is just as quiet as the ride there. This time, however, they have seats and while not too long ago they were both extremely enthusiastic about reviewing the movie from start to finish, Seungcheol finds his eyes closing a little as he sits with his arms crossed over his chest. A little girl is sitting directly opposite him quietly reading a book, her mother engrossed in her phone. Beside him Dowoon seems to have dozed off, the bottom half of his face buried in his scarf. Lulled by the silence and the swaying of the train, Seungcheol’s head droops and in a few seconds he drifts off too.
He’s awakened by a high-pitched little girl’s voice saying “Mummy look, they’re a couple!”
Seungcheol jerks awake. The little girl is staring straight at him. And at Dowoon, who has slumped over sideways and now has his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. The little girl’s mum glances over, sees his horrified expression and swiftly apologizes, trying to hush up her daughter. “A couple!” the girl chirps one last time before going back to her book.
Seungcheol bites his lip and stares at the ceiling, trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that the train is suddenly very warm. The carriage shudders as it comes to a stop at the next station, and Dowoon’s head rolls off his shoulder. He jolts upright, looking around him in confusion.
“Bye!” the little girl sings, and waves at Seungcheol as she exits the train.
“What was that about?” Dowoon asks blearily.
“Nothing,” Seungcheol mumbles.
They grab burgers in the shopping district. The restaurant is full of other students, and Seungcheol is relieved to see a few other guys eating with a friend too. It’s a cool crisp night, colder than Seungcheol anticipated, and in the glare of the streetlights his breath mists in front of him. He gets a double patty beef burger and Dowoon gets a fish burger and later when they’re walking home Dowoon suddenly asks if he wants an ice cream.
“It’s a bit too cold for ice cream don’t you think?” Seungcheol hunches his shoulders further into his school jacket. Even the extra hoodie he’d brought isn’t quite as warm as he’d like.
“Doesn’t eating something cold on a cold day make you feel more alive?” Dowoon replies. Seungcheol eyes him for a good second and finally relents. “Samanco for me, thanks.” He waits at the window counter, blowing on his hands for warmth while Dowoon grabs the ice cream.
“Here you go,” Dowoon hands him the packet. He refuses to take the money Seungcheol offers him and instead takes a seat on the stool beside him. “Cheers,” he says merrily. Seungcheol unwraps his fish-shaped ice cream waffle and knocks it against his Melona. They both grin.
“Speaking of basketball,” Dowoon says halfway through his ice cream, “I won’t be able to come for practice over the next week.” He’s staring out the window again, watching passersby hurry along the street.
“Oh?” Seungcheol licks at some ice cream that’s dripping down his waffle. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got a gig coming up,” Dowoon says easily. “So we’ll be meeting up more for practice.”
“Oh,” Seungcheol says again. “Yeah. Okay. That’s cool.” They fall back into silence, Seungcheol chewing thoughtfully on his snack and thinking that Nayeon would love to go if she knew about this gig. A stroke of inspiration hits him, and he turns to Dowoon. “Out of curiousity, can I know where and when you’re playing?”
Dowoon looks a little hesitant. “Uhh…”
“It’s not for me,” Seungcheol waves his hand around. “You know, I’m not much into music and all that. But I, uh, have a friend, she’s really into indie bands and stuff like that. I’m sure she’d love to check you guys out.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, if you’re not comfortable with it…”
“… It’s cool.” Dowoon takes out his phone and sends him a poster. “That’s our band right there.” he points at a name in the lineup. Seungcheol squints at it and nods. Nayeon owes him a lifetime of food for this.
Dowoon doesn’t invite him to come along and Seungcheol doesn’t mention it. Not that he really wants to, anyway. Leave the swooning to Nayeon. His work here is pretty much done.
>>>>
nayeon/dowoon/seungcheol
pg, 17538w
a/n: sequel to kirakirashahida's light years . all i wanted was for my girl nayeon to be happy but ha ha ha what started off as a drabble took on a life of its own and evolved into this 17k monster. it's not worthy of your masterpiece shida but thank you for letting me write it ;___;
In the setting sun, Seungcheol’s eyes are the colour of fish sauce. Anchovy sauce, to be more precise. The thought of anchovy sauce makes her think of kimchi and her stomach growls in response. Nayeon groans and flops backwards on the grass beside the basketball court, staring up at the sky. The days are still short but with every day that passes the air grows just that little bit warmer - just another reminder that winter is leaving them.
“Oi, Seungcheol time to get going or your mother will worry!” she yells at the clouds. She hears a loud curse and the sound of the ball smacking against the court floor as the boys burst out laughing. She doesn’t need to look up to see Seungcheol grimacing as he gets shoved around by his friends.
“You’ve seriously gotta stop doing that,” Seungcheol glares at her when he trudges off the court and throws himself down beside her. “I was just about to score a three-pointer and you freaking made me miss.” He shoves his water bottle rather brusquely into his bag and blows upwards into his sweaty fringe.
“You would’ve missed anyway,” Nayeon grins. “I’m starving. You owe me a chocolate bun for making me wait.” Her stomach gives another pointed rumble as she gets to her feet and throws his heavy winter jacket at him. Seungcheol rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, with the amount of food you eat you’re gonna wake up one day and find that you’ve grown three times your size and can’t get out of bed.” Nayeon smacks him on the back only to come away with a palm full of sweat. “That’s what you get when you make me miss my three-pointer,” he tells her as she makes a horrified noise of protest and holds her hand out in front of her as if it’s been infected. She only stops grumbling when he stops by the bakery near his house and buys her a bun to shut her up.
“I’ve only been at school for 10 days and I’m already ready to graduate,” Nayeon groans, turning around and dramatically flinging her head on Seungcheol’s desk. Her hair spills over the surface and covers his phone where Lebron James was just about to shoot. Seungcheol pulls his hands and phone out from under her hair and places it on top without even batting an eyelid.
“You can’t graduate if you can’t pass your exams.” he says indifferently. “And if you can’t graduate you can’t get into Yonsei and go back to bothering Park Jinyoung instead of me. So please pass your exams. For my sake.”
For a few seconds Nayeon doesn’t respond and Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see if she’s fallen asleep. He can’t see anything under her mass of hair so he scoops up the side where he thinks her face is and pokes her cheek. “Hey. I was joking. You’re not still hung up over him are you?”
He’s rewarded with a glare that would melt the face off anyone other than him. “I’m not that pathetic Choi Seungcheol,” she declares, and sits up so fast that his phone slides off her hair and almost falls off the table if not for his (self-proclaimed) lightning quick reflexes. He clutches his most precious possession (second only to his basketball shoes) to his chest and stares up at her as she clatters to her feet and snatches up her duffle coat. “I’m going to buy some bread,” she says fiercely, looking down at him. Her eyes are murderous. “What the hell do you want?”
“Uhh, curry bread is fine,” Seungcheol says, a little bewildered at the sudden shift in her mood. She gives a sharp nod, turns violently and stalks towards the door. “Oh, and get me a Yakult too while you’re at it!” he yells at her back. She responds by slamming the sliding door behind her. The classroom noise dies a little at the sound but starts right back up a moment later.
“What did you do to her?” Jeonghan asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Girls are weird,” Seungcheol shakes his head. Jeonghan nods sleepily in agreement and puts his head back under his textbook. Seungcheol sighs. Deep down he’s perfectly aware by the weird little inflection in her voice when she said she was fine that she really probably wasn’t.
“Dumb,” Nayeon narrows her eyes at the vending machine as she looks for the Yakult. “Boys are dumb. Boys are so so SO DUMB!” she punches a finger into the button a little too violently and the machine shakes a little as the drink falls into the tray. A few passing students glance at her before deciding to give the angry girl glowering at the vending machine a wide berth. They’ll just wait til the next break for their banana milk.
“I’ll never trust another boy again,” Nayeon announces to the ceiling as she walks back to the classroom. “They’re all dumb.” She’s just entered the senior hallway when someone comes out of the classroom behind theirs and walks towards her.
Nayeon’s first thought is that she’s never seen this guy before. Her second thought is whoa.
He doesn’t even spare her a glance when they pass each other, but it feels less of him ignoring her and more of him looking at his feet. His hair is dark and messier than Seungcheol’s and even though it looks as though he’s the same height as her best friend there’s something about him that seems taller. She stops and watches his back as he walks down the corridor. Gangly seems like a better word for it, she thinks. There’s an awkward ungainliness in his walk, as if his body had suddenly grown overnight and he still hasn’t caught up with it.
But despite all of that - his height, his hair, the small black earphones nestled his ears - the one thing that really catches Nayeon’s eye is his hands. Drumming rapidly through the air in short, sharp gestures, occasionally stretching out beyond him to hit what Nayeon can only guess is an invisible cymbal. He doesn’t even flinch when another guy walks past and gives him a weird look. She’s never seen anyone like this before; someone who walks with such an air of self-consciousness and yet doesn’t seem perturbed by anything at all.
Nayeon keeps looking until he turns to go down the stairs and disappears from sight.
Seungcheol drops his bag on the floor as soon as he closes the door behind him. “Ma, what’s for dinner?” he calls out as he takes off his shoes, fully intending to collapse on the couch and pass out until he’s called to eat. He gets the rudest shock of his life when he walks into the living room to find Nayeon sitting cross-legged on said couch, eating out of a huge packet of his corn puffs and playing Breath of the Wild on (dare he say) his Nintendo Switch.
“What in the actual f -,” he starts, then remembers his mother is in the kitchen and hastily shuts his mouth. He settles for a glare as Nayeon smiles that bunny-toothed smile at him. Nayeon has several bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions and this one seems to be the ha, totally got you this time didn’t I? one. “Don’t you have a home to go to?” he manages instead, striding over and taking the Switch from her (“Hey, I’m in the middle of a fight!”).
“Ever since my dearest oppa went to university and left me behind the house has been too quiet,” Nayeon says with an expert lip tremble, pulling the corn puff bag out of the way so he can’t take it from her too. “You’re the only family I have left.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, trying to snatch at the bag. “Don’t try to give me that, your parents are still alive and kicking. And they probably don’t like you spending most of your time in someone else’s house. Especially a dude’s.” She smacks his hand away and he stares at her in mock horror.
“Come on, I bet you secretly love having me around,” Nayeon smirks at him. “Your mom definitely does and she doesn’t make a secret out of it, right omoni?” she yells towards the kitchen.
“Seungcheol stop being rude to your friend!” his mother yells back. Nayeon laughs as Seungcheol deadpans. “We’re having bibimbap,” she tells him. “And I made the anchovy side dish. So you’d better eat it.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Seungcheol says vaguely, eyes already on the Switch, picking up where she left off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her make a movement as if she’s about to smack him one but seems to change her mind and sinks into the cushions behind her. She puts her legs up on his knees. “So how was practice?” she asks.
“Tiring as hell. We had tryouts,” he replies distractedly. He finishes the battle and puts down the Switch, holding out his hand for the corn puff bag. Nayeon passes it to him without hesitation. “This new guy in our year tried out and he’s actually pretty good. Too bad he probably won’t get to play much since Sungjae will probably want to concentrate more on the first years.”
“I didn’t know we had a new kid,” Nayeon thinks back to the guy she passed in the corridor the other day. Could it be…?
“It’s weird right? Changing schools in your last year. A little dumb if you ask me. Having to make new friends, get a new uniform, get used to the teachers… plus he’s so quiet I can’t imagine him making much of an impression on anyone. Kinda sad, really.” Seungcheol stuffs a handful of corn puffs into his mouth and frowns. The bag feels a little too light for his liking.
“What was his name?” Nayeon goes back to looking at her phone. Seungcheol takes a peek into the bag and only finds a small handful of puffs left. He looks sadly over at her and wonders how on earth he managed to be friends with someone who can eat a whole bag of corn puffs on her own.
“I don’t remember. Like I said, he didn’t make much of an impression,” he pushes her legs off his and gets up to see what else he can snack on before his mother yells at him for spoiling his appetite.
She sneaks over to the gym every lunch time when Seungcheol is there, knowing that one way or another the mysterious new boy would be around there too. Or at least, he should be.
If he is, she doesn’t see him.
Nayeon sighs as she slumps on one of the benches overlooking the playing field. Her breath still forms in puffs in the chilly air. Some boys are kicking a football around, and in one corner the school cheerleaders are rehearsing a routine. Nayeon watches them all without much interest, thinking instead of how best to go about getting the guy’s name.
She could storm the next class and ask Kim Jisoo (she’s always found it hilarious how both their classes have a Jisoo as a class rep) for his name but she knows all too well that asking for the name of someone of the opposite sex is just asking for some very loud wolf whistles and inappropriate suggestions. Or she could just look for Jisoo in the library where she always is and just ask her there.
“Yes!” Nayeon says to herself, bolting to her feet. That’s exactly what she’ll do. Jisoo would be fine with it. She turns to run down to the library before the bell goes and that’s when she sees him walking up the hallway.
His hands are in his pockets this time and his earphones aren’t in his ears and the energy she felt when she first passed him in the corridor just doesn’t seem to be there. For a second their eyes meet briefly, and then he hurriedly looks back at his feet and walks on.
Nayeon watches him go, then runs off to the library.
His name is Yoon Dowoon.
“He just arrived from Busan. He’s so shy and his voice is so deep and low that on the first day when he came in none of us could really hear what he said,” Jisoo leans back in her chair and scrutinizes Nayeon. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just heard rumours that we had a new guy,” Nayeon tries to play it cool but Jisoo’s smile is all-knowing. “Seungcheol told me when they had basketball tryouts. He said he was pretty good.”
Jisoo nods. “Oh yeah, Sanghyuk mentioned it too. I don’t see how he’d be able to work in a team though; I mean he hardly talks to anyone.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I’d really like to help him but it’s really hard to keep talking to someone who barely responds.”
“Hmm,” Nayeon replies. “Anyway, I’d better leave you to your studying,” she vaguely waves a hand at the books stacked up on the table. She’s always sort of admired Jisoo for being able to eat up books for nourishment. The only thing she could really eat is bread bought by Seungcheol.
“I heard he’s a drummer in a band by the way,” Jisoo calls out as she turns to go. Everyone raises their heads to look at her and the librarian gives them a stern look from the counter. Jisoo grins mischievously despite the disapproval and waggles her eyebrows at Nayeon. “In case you wanted to know.”
Nayeon tries to imagine Yoon Dowoon behind a drum set, cymbals glinting gold under bright lights, hands moving rapidly, and finds that it isn’t hard to believe at all.
“Oi,” Seungcheol snaps his fingers in front of Nayeon’s face. He’d dragged his chair up to her desk a minute ago but she hadn’t asked what he wanted or even tried to shove him away, so he figured something was probably up. He waves a hand in front of her face, notices the faraway look in her eyes as she leans her elbows against her desk, hands cupping her chin. She’s a million miles away, and it’s a look he’s seen a thousand other times before though it hasn’t been around much lately.
He points a finger in front of her eye and traces her line of sight out of the classroom to the hallway. He catches a glimpse of steadily moving hands as a boy walks into view. A boy he’s seen before. His hair is mussed and he seems to be in his own world as he walks in front of the doorway. He traces the line back as Nayeon’s face lights up into the widest, biggest bunny-toothed smile. What.
“Really?” he asks incredulously. The name comes to him so easily he’s surprised he even forgot it. “Yoon Dowoon?”
Almost immediately Nayeon snaps out of it. “What do you want?” she kicks at his chair leg. “I’m busy here.”
“Ogling at the new boy doesn’t count as ‘busy’,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “He’s a weirdo, you know. No one goes around air drumming all the time. And he doesn’t even talk to anyone. He’s never going to talk to you.”
“What the hell do you know about him huh? You couldn’t even remember his name,” Nayeon rolls her eyes back, trying to push him out of the way as Dowoon makes his way past the classroom. “Jisoo-K says he’s a drummer in a band. Isn’t that so cool?” Her eyes follow his every move and Seungcheol can almost see them sparkling in admiration. He scoffs in disbelief.
“I probably know more than you do,” he shoots back, throwing his arms up in surrender as she shoves at his chair with her foot, almost toppling him over. “Geez, I’ll leave you alone alright? Stop trying to injure me, woman.”
“I need to think of a good way to accidentally bump into him,” Nayeon says half to herself as Dowoon disappears from view. She suddenly grabs on to Seungcheol’s school jacket, smiling that wheedling, innocent smile she always uses when she wants him to get bread for her. “Hey Seungcheol, you’re my best friend aren’t you?”
“I’m not setting you up,” Seungcheol deadpans, dragging his seat back to his desk behind her. “I don’t even know the guy. And you were a lot less wild when you were in love with Park Jinyoung,” he adds.
For a second Nayeon’s smile fizzles as if something has interfered with the connection, then returns even brighter. “Jinyoung wasn’t a bad boy.” She winks at him as Seungcheol mimes throwing up on the floor. He watches her out of the corner of one eye as she bounds to the classroom door and sticks her head outside, probably staring after Yoon Dowoon. 6 months since she last saw Park Jinyoung and the light in her eyes still dulls a little every time she hears his name.
Seungcheol sighs and digs his phone out of his pocket. Practice with the new recruits next week? he texts to Sungjae.
Yeah. Got a practice match soon. I’ll probably call that Dowoon guy to come as well.
Seungcheol looks over at Nayeon in the doorway, still grinning to herself. Im Nayeon has a variety of bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions, but he’s pretty sure he’s never seen one as deliriously happy as the one she had when she was looking at Yoon Dowoon. He sighs again.
Cool.
Plenty of surprising things have happened in Dowoon’s life - his parents’ divorce, losing his scarf one day and finding it on the pavement a week later, having to drop everything in Busan and move to Seoul with his father - but nothing has really been as surprising as getting called to practice with his new school’s basketball team.
“You’re good,” says the vice-captain, a sleepy-looking guy with an obstinate mouth. Dowoon vaguely remembers his name as Seungcheol. “To be honest we’ll probably end up giving more playing opportunities to the younger kids since we all won’t be able to play as much soon, but it’s good to have you come to practice anyway.”
“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Thanks.”
“And if… you know… if you need, like, help or anything like that, you can ask me or something.”
“What?”
A frown flits across Seungcheol’s face, then clears. “It’s not easy being a new kid,” he finally says, and to Dowoon it sounds like he’s struggling to get the words out of his mouth. The discomfort in Seungcheol’s face is almost laughable and he tries to keep from grinning. “…”
“Oi Seungcheol, get over here and help me check on these kid’s footwork!” the captain - Sungjae, Dowoon thinks his name was - suddenly yells from the court. Dowoon thinks he sees something like relief written on Seungcheol’s face when he gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder and gets up a little too eagerly. He isn’t too surprised. People always tend to be more than willing to get away from him.
“Like I said!” Seungcheol suddenly turns around and yells, walking backwards. “Just ask!” He throws a thumbs-up into the air and runs off.
For the first time since coming to Seoul, Dowoon smiles.
He still doesn’t quite know the school layout so when Jisoo announces that he’s on homework duty today everyone turns to look at him to see if he’ll ask for help to get to the teacher’s office. Jisoo’s polite expression is particularly nudging.
But try as he might he just can’t muster up the courage to look people in eye much less ask them for directions so when the bell goes for the end of the day and people start leaving he goes up to the front desk and heaves the enormous pile of notebooks into his arms without saying a word.
“Dowoon!” Jisoo taps him on the shoulder. “Do you know where the teacher’s office is? Do you want me to show you?”
He can’t quite look her in the eye so he settles for her nose. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s okay. Thanks.” He tries to look reassuring. He’s sure it doesn’t suit his face. Jisoo doesn’t look like she believes him but she nods and lets him go anyway.
Dowoon was so sure the teacher’s office was down the stairs and a right turn into the next building so how is it that he’s ended up standing in the middle of an empty hallway with nothing but the music rooms on either side of him?
If his hands were free he would facepalm.
He’s heading back the way he came and has just started up the stairs when a girl turns the corner. He’s seen her around before, maybe. She might be in the class next to his. He might have passed her in the corridor. He pauses to let her go first but she stops at the landing, her hand on the railing. Her head tilts to one side.
“Hey, you’re the new guy aren’t you?” she asks. He thinks he detects something like breathlessness in her voice but he can’t be too sure.
“Yeah.”
“Are you on homework duty today?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you lost?”
Dowoon weighs his options. He could try going alone again and get hopelessly lost (again) or for once in his life he could just ask for help. He looks up at the girl and she stares expectantly back. She smiles the friendliest smile he has ever seen since leaving the town he grew up in, and he makes up his mind.
“Actually yeah,” he says with an awkward laugh. “I guess I’m a little lost.”
She bounds down the stairs and takes half of the notebooks from him before he can even blink. He tries to protest but she shakes her head. “It’ll be weird if I just showed you the way and let you carry everything on your own,” she says, starting up the stairs again. “Follow me.”
He follows her (they turn right at the staircase) and when they get into the other building she turns left and heads back down the stairs. “You’d think it’ll all be straightforward or something but nooo,” she says when they arrive at the door marked teacher’s room. “Go ahead and knock.”
“Uhhh…” he says uncertainly.
“This is math isn’t it? You’ll be looking for Mr. Byun.”
She’s still staring at him so he steels himself, balances the stack of books in one hand and knocks with the other. They march in silently with their backs as straight as they can be and set the books on the desk a teacher points out to them, then march just as quietly back out. When they head back up the stairs Dowoon and the girl look at each other and she starts chuckling. He grins.
(“You should make some friends,” his dad says as they sit together in the morning, the freshly brewed pot of coffee sending tendrils of steam into the air. In the morning sunlight his father’s thinning hair seems less grey and the boxes of their unpacked stuff seems less of a reminder of their pain and more like a symbol of a fresh start. “I know it’ll be your only year in that school but you should still make some good memories of your last year. You won’t get it again.”
Dowoon swallows the last of his bread and jam. “I’ll try.”
It’s been almost a month and he still hasn’t really tried.)
“I’m Nayeon, by the way,” the girl tells him when she stops laughing. Dowoon suddenly realizes where he’s seen her before - scolding the vending machine near the gym two weeks ago. He ended up having to wait until lunch to get his grape juice because he was too scared to go near her. He feels his shoulders relax a little.
“I’m Dowoon,” he says. She smiles like she already knows.
Suddenly the days feel a lot lighter to Nayeon. It isn’t just the prospect of warmer weather, it’s also the fact that she actually talked to Yoon Dowoon. Without turning into a tomato. Amazing. Granted he couldn’t really look her in the eye and the air of awkwardness around him only seemed to magnify but still. She talked to him. And he replied.
She spies him when she enters the cafeteria. The rain that’s been threatening to fall for the past few days has finally broken into a soft constant drizzle and Seungcheol is home with a fever (probably from playing too much basketball) so she’s alone during lunch. He’s sitting at a small table beside the window, his earphones hung over his ears and absentmindedly swirling his kimchi jjigae around with his spoon.
Nayeon grabs a tray and heads over. “Hey,” she says when she’s beside him. He gives a start and almost knocks the bowl over. She tries to keep from smiling too hard.
“Oh, umm, hi,” he stammers, hurriedly setting the spoon down with a clatter.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He pulls his tray towards him to make some space and nods, still looking down at the table. She likes the way his hair falls into his eyes. Nayeon notices the small black studs in his ears as she places her own tray down and takes a seat. She wants to ask him so much why his ears are pierced, where he did it, how much did it hurt? She’s aware that she had never felt this same amount of curiousity when she looked at Jinyoung.
“Man, it’s really wet isn’t it?” she remarks as she picks up a mini pancake between her chopsticks as delicately as she can. She once tried to make kimchi pajeon as small as this when Jinyoung came over after school but the consistency was rubbish and she ended up throwing everything out. He and her brother never found out. “Nothing like a spring shower to get you in a good mood.”
“Hmm,” says Dowoon. She looks up to find him looking at her pajeon, and he hastily returns his gaze out the window. There’s a small section of his hair that isn’t flowing the same way as the rest. She thinks it’s adorable.
“Does it rain a lot in Busan?”
“Yeah, especially around this time.” He’s still staring out the window. She used to see the same wistfulness in Jinyoung’s eyes when he looked at Suji.
“Rain like this reminds me of my hometown,” she says, spearing a potato and popping it into her mouth to distract herself from the unexpected memory. He looks at her, and she realizes just how unladylike that was. She curses inwardly. “We used to live along the coast but moved here when I was in primary school,” she says by way of explanation. There’s a little gleam of recognition in his eyes now. “Whenever it rains like this the smell reminds me a little of the ocean.”
The corner of his mouth lifts a little. His gaze doesn’t break. “It’s a good smell isn’t it?”
She smiles back. “The best.”
They spend the remainder of lunch finishing off their food in a slightly more comfortable silence. When they go to return their trays and walk back to the classroom, taking care not to bump into each other, the rain still hasn’t stopped.
“How was school today?” his father asks when he gets in the door. He smiles approvingly at the books scattered across the kitchen table, and Dowoon starts placing them in neater piles to make some space.
“There’s still some dubu jjigae left,” he says. “And some broiled fish. If you want.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already had dinner,” his father pats him on the shoulder a little awkwardly. They’ve never been much for skinship, he and his dad, but ever since the divorce Dowoon thinks he’s been trying a little harder. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t. “So how was school?” he repeats as he takes off his coat and shakes the droplets from it.
Dowoon thinks about Nayeon sitting across from him, shoving a potato into her mouth and talking about the smell of the rain. There’s something warm that seems to radiate from her, and while they didn’t talk much he was aware that for the rest of the school day the weight in his stomach that always seemed to be there had lessened a little.
“Good,” he replied. “Got plenty of homework,” he gestures at the books, “as you can see.” His father nods and mutters something about a good school knows how to work its kids right as he loosens his tie, then announces that he’s going to take shower.
“School today was less lonely,” Dowoon says to the closed bathroom door. He spins his pen in his hand and smiles to himself when his father starts to sing amidst the hiss of the water flowing from the shower head.
For the next three days Nayeon wakes up to a soft drizzle outside her window. It gives her an extra boost of energy as she jumps out of bed and rushes around getting ready for school. Apparently a crush who doesn’t live in the same neighbourhood isn’t quite enough to make her get out of bed on time but she still arrives at school earlier than usual in case she might ‘accidentally’ bump into him.
By lunchtime she’s fidgety and when the bell goes she waits a full five minutes before leaving. She’s just grateful that Seungcheol is still out sick since it means she can do whatever the hell she wants. Well, she’d still be able to do whatever the hell she wants but she’d also have to deal with his questions. And she can’t tell him about Dowoon. Not yet. Not until she’s certain that she’s not going to get her heart broken this time.
His smiles get a little less uncertain with each passing day. He’s always sitting in the same spot, looking out the window. One time his earphones were in and he took them out when she sat down. She told him to put them back on since she had some reading to do but in truth she just wanted to enjoy the silence between them. She hoped he found it as comfortable as she did.
“How long do you think this rain will last?” Dowoon asks on the fourth day of their sitting together. Nayeon is munching on a curry bun and trying to get her head around math. Dowoon has a half-eaten bibimbap and a world history textbook open. She actually caught him watching the entrance when she entered the cafeteria and he even smiled at her first when she walked over. It made her want to flip a table in happiness.
“Not that long,” she replies. “It probably won’t rain like this again until summer.”
He nods and goes back to his book. Nayeon has half a mind to ask if they can still have lunch together anyway but decides not to. She’s satisfied to just sit there with him and know that he’s content to do the same with her.
Over the weekend the rain clears. When Monday arrives Seungcheol comes back to school looking like death. Nayeon goes to the cafeteria like always but the table beside the window is empty.
“So I heard you’re in a band,” Seungcheol passes a bottle to Dowoon. Dowoon takes it with a tilt of the head. Seungcheol notices that he doesn’t drink it immediately.
“Yeah. Just a hobby, I guess.” Dowoon cracks open the lid. Seungcheol gets the impression that he doesn’t really want to talk about it.
“That’s pretty cool. My parents tried to get me to learn the violin as a kid but obviously that didn’t turn out so well.” He throws a bottle at a passing Jeonghan, who catches it neatly with one hand. Since he hasn’t quite recovered from his fever yet he’s on water bottle duty, which suits him just fine. “I, uhh, snapped a string on the first lesson,” he adds.
Dowoon manages an awkward laugh. It’s incredibly gratifying to Seungcheol, being able to make this strange, shy specimen of a guy actually smile. Even if it does seem a little forced. Their conversations are still pretty one-sided and the silences are still heavy with, well, silence, but he seems kind of cool. In a strange, shy kind of way. Seungcheol still can’t quite figure out what Nayeon sees in him, though. Oh well.
“Hey maybe one of these days we can hang out,” he finds himself blurting out. “Catch a movie or go to the arcade or something.” What.
The look of surprise on Dowoon’s face is actually pretty funny because if Seungcheol’s inner thoughts were conveyed on his face he’d probably have the same exact expression. But before Dowoon can reply Sungjae announces that break time is over and do they want to get their asses handed to them like the last practice match or what?
“That’ll be cool,” Dowoon hands the empty bottle back to Seungcheol. His hands reflexively closes around it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” For once Dowoon’s smile actually looks somewhat natural before he jogs away.
Nayeon catches up with him just before they get to school. He’s ambling along slowly with his usual morning sleepiness, a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth and his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He’s lost some weight since his fever but Nayeon leans over and steals the other slice sticking out from under his jacket collar anyway.
Seungcheol makes a noise of protest around his half-eaten toast and rapidly inhales the whole thing. “Hey, I need that,” he says, quickly swallowing. “I’ve got no lunch money.”
“I made some food,” Nayeon says nonchalantly, taking a big bite out of the toast as Seungcheol lunges for it. “I’ll give you some.”
The indignation on his face is replaced by extreme shock. “You actually made lunch? You? No way. Who are you and what have you done with Im Nayeon?”
“Shut up,” she frowns and punches him on the arm. “I’m a little broke too. I bought too many snacks. All those late nights spent studying, you know.” She hopes he buys it. Hell if she’s going to tell him that she made food so she could share it with Yoon Dowoon.
“Like hell you study. You went to sleep at 9pm the other night because you were bored,” Seungcheol pulls another slice of toast out of his pocket and starts chewing. “I have the messages if you want to see them.”
Nayeon doesn’t have a good comeback for that so she just keeps walking, swallowing the remnants of Seungcheol’s stolen toast. He finishes his second slice and fishes a third one out from the other pocket of his jacket just as the school gates come into view.
“Why don’t you have lunch money anyway?” she ventures.
“Gotta save up for… something.”
“What, you got a date?”
There’s a pause. “No,” Seungcheol replies lightly. Too lightly. Nayeon grabs his collar, staring wildly at him. Seungcheol never pauses before he answers. “Oh my god, do you actually have a date?!” she cries out. Several passing students start walking faster. She shakes him a little. “Choi Seungcheol!”
Eyes wide, he points at his throat, then at the half-eaten toast in his mouth, and she hurriedly releases him. He bends over, thumping on his chest and coughing crumbs out of his mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?!” he demands when he’s finished. She hands him a water bottle. He kicks her on the shin. “I swear you’re gonna kill me one of these days Im Nayeon.”
“So do you have a date or not?”
“I already told you no!”
“But you paused!”
“It was for dramatic effect you idiot!”
She gives him a long hard stare. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares back. They stand that way for some time, neither refusing to back down. Nayeon tries to look for a hint of a lie in his face but Seungcheol’s expression is impenetrable. He raises an eyebrow at her. Finally she blinks and pulls a face at him.
“Fine, I believe you. I’m sorry you almost choked to death on your toast.” She turns and starts walking again. Seungcheol falls into step beside her.
“Why is it such a big deal if I actually get a date anyway?” he asks.
She looks up at him. His expression tells her that he’s already guessed what her problem is. “I’d just like to know beforehand if you’re going out with a girl,” is all she says.
“…but why??”
“Because that’s just what friends do.” She looks straight ahead and shoves her hands into her jacket pockets to warm them, suddenly embarrassed by this whole conversation. “Anyway wouldn’t you like some advice from a fellow girl so you don’t fail spectacularly on your date?” She digs her elbow into his side.
He chuckles and elbows her back. “You know I would never betray you, Im Nayeon.”
“Good,” she says. They march through the school gates and across the grounds. She’s not pleased at the insinuation that she’d be jealous but she’s content with his promise. “Make sure you don’t.”
She’d shoved three rolls of kimbap and a Yakult into Seungcheol’s hands before claiming she was going to eat lunch with Jisoo-K and running out of the room. She searched the cafeteria high and low but couldn’t spot Dowoon, so she spent an extra 10 minutes searching the outdoor hallways in case she might run into him. She didn’t.
Jesus how much kimbap did you make if you can give me three? Seungcheol texts her as she sits alone on a bench under a ginkgo tree. It’s a good day, sunrays falling through the branches studded with tiny leaves and over her shoulders. Nayeon looks down at the box in her lap containing the remaining seven kimbap and sighs.
I’m starving, is all she texts back. The truth is she’s actually kind of lost her appetite for the day.
She starts walking listlessly back to the classroom, and that’s when she catches sight of messy hair bobbing between the bushes a stone’s throw from where she had been sitting. She stops dead in her tracks and decides to get closer to see if it really is him. It is; eyes closed, hair a dark brown in the bright sunlight, hands drumming to the song playing through his earphones, body physically here but his mind floating off in the outer reaches of space.
Nayeon could stand there and watch him forever, drinking in the energy flowing from him but instead she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and crouches down beside him. She taps him on the shoulder and he jumps violently, turning to stare at her. He quickly pulls his earphones off, his cheeks red. “Hi,” he says in a voice lower than usual. He clears his throat.
“Hey,” she beams. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”
His smile is a cross between pleased and uncertain. They stay like that for a few seconds and then she remembers why she really came. “Oh!” She digs out the box and opens it as elegantly as possible. “I made some kimbap to share with my friend but she ended up calling in sick,” she lies through her teeth. “You can take some if you’d like.”
“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Umm…” His mouth like he’s about to politely decline but his eyes seem to be saying something else. Nayeon seizes the opportunity.
“Come on,” she smiles her best, most cajoling smile. “I’ve got too many. If you don’t help me eat some now they won’t be nice anymore by the end of the day.” She thinks about going for a pout but decides not to. She’s going for charming, not childish. She pushes the box a little closer to him, silently prodding him along. “Don’t worry, I’m offering.”
“I…” Dowoon falters, but his hand is already reaching out a little. He hesitates, and looks at Nayeon as if asking for permission.
“Really, help yourself,” she tells him. He takes one, and she sets the box down between them as she settles on the grass beside him. The ground is a little damp but otherwise not too uncomfortable.
“Thanks,” he says.
She waves his thanks away. “Don’t mention it. How is it?”
“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” he replies, and she catches a hint of cheek in his voice.
“Excuse me?” She turns to him in mock horror, pressing a hand to her chest. “How dare you. I’ll have you know that I am the best cook in our year.” He only grins at her - a full blown smile this time - and chuckles. The fact that she actually managed to make him laugh stuns Nayeon into silence for a full second, and in confusion she takes a kimbap herself and starts chewing.
“Hey Nayeon,” Dowoon suddenly says. She gulps down her bite and tries to will herself to not blush. This is the first time he’s ever said her name. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
He smiles bashfully, his cheeks a little red again as he looks out at the playing field. The football kids are sprinting back and forth between two cones. On the other side the cheerleaders are practicing throws. Dowoon shrugs. “Just felt like thanking you.” He looks her square in the eye for a moment before turning away.
He can probably feel the heat radiating from her face. She’s really in trouble now.
Seungcheol waits for Dowoon at the train station. Nayeon had been in a really cheerful mood after her lunch with Jisoo-K, and when he told her he had things to do after school she said bye and left him without putting up a fight. She must have had a really good talk, Seungcheol speculated. It stung a little to think that he might be getting replaced after he told her that he wouldn’t betray her but he let it go a moment later. Let the girl have some girl time.
“I thought the new Fast and Furious was out but it isn’t yet,” he says when Dowoon arrives. He looks a lot more casual out of school, his shirt sticking out from under his jumper and a big scarf wrapped around his neck. The nervous air that usually accompanies him seems to have dispelled a little. Looking like that, Seungcheol can actually believe that he’s in a band. “But Logan is still showing, if you haven’t watched that.”
“Hmm,” says Dowoon. “I heard Logan’s pretty good.”
“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol nods. “I haven’t watched it either,” he says as they wait for the train. “Basketball has just sucked up all my free time. I love the sport,” he adds quickly, just in case Dowoon gets the wrong idea. “But being one of the people in charge is a huge burden. Chasing down kids who don’t turn up to practice is tiring as hell, you know?”
Dowoon grins. “I can imagine.” The train arrives. The seats are full so they stand by the doorway across from each other. Dowoon seems preoccupied with looking out the door, and although Seungcheol can’t see what’s so fascinating about the walls of the subway the carriage is a little quiet and he doesn’t want to make too much noise so he lapses into silence too until they arrive at their stop.
The train ride home is just as quiet as the ride there. This time, however, they have seats and while not too long ago they were both extremely enthusiastic about reviewing the movie from start to finish, Seungcheol finds his eyes closing a little as he sits with his arms crossed over his chest. A little girl is sitting directly opposite him quietly reading a book, her mother engrossed in her phone. Beside him Dowoon seems to have dozed off, the bottom half of his face buried in his scarf. Lulled by the silence and the swaying of the train, Seungcheol’s head droops and in a few seconds he drifts off too.
He’s awakened by a high-pitched little girl’s voice saying “Mummy look, they’re a couple!”
Seungcheol jerks awake. The little girl is staring straight at him. And at Dowoon, who has slumped over sideways and now has his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. The little girl’s mum glances over, sees his horrified expression and swiftly apologizes, trying to hush up her daughter. “A couple!” the girl chirps one last time before going back to her book.
Seungcheol bites his lip and stares at the ceiling, trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that the train is suddenly very warm. The carriage shudders as it comes to a stop at the next station, and Dowoon’s head rolls off his shoulder. He jolts upright, looking around him in confusion.
“Bye!” the little girl sings, and waves at Seungcheol as she exits the train.
“What was that about?” Dowoon asks blearily.
“Nothing,” Seungcheol mumbles.
They grab burgers in the shopping district. The restaurant is full of other students, and Seungcheol is relieved to see a few other guys eating with a friend too. It’s a cool crisp night, colder than Seungcheol anticipated, and in the glare of the streetlights his breath mists in front of him. He gets a double patty beef burger and Dowoon gets a fish burger and later when they’re walking home Dowoon suddenly asks if he wants an ice cream.
“It’s a bit too cold for ice cream don’t you think?” Seungcheol hunches his shoulders further into his school jacket. Even the extra hoodie he’d brought isn’t quite as warm as he’d like.
“Doesn’t eating something cold on a cold day make you feel more alive?” Dowoon replies. Seungcheol eyes him for a good second and finally relents. “Samanco for me, thanks.” He waits at the window counter, blowing on his hands for warmth while Dowoon grabs the ice cream.
“Here you go,” Dowoon hands him the packet. He refuses to take the money Seungcheol offers him and instead takes a seat on the stool beside him. “Cheers,” he says merrily. Seungcheol unwraps his fish-shaped ice cream waffle and knocks it against his Melona. They both grin.
“Speaking of basketball,” Dowoon says halfway through his ice cream, “I won’t be able to come for practice over the next week.” He’s staring out the window again, watching passersby hurry along the street.
“Oh?” Seungcheol licks at some ice cream that’s dripping down his waffle. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got a gig coming up,” Dowoon says easily. “So we’ll be meeting up more for practice.”
“Oh,” Seungcheol says again. “Yeah. Okay. That’s cool.” They fall back into silence, Seungcheol chewing thoughtfully on his snack and thinking that Nayeon would love to go if she knew about this gig. A stroke of inspiration hits him, and he turns to Dowoon. “Out of curiousity, can I know where and when you’re playing?”
Dowoon looks a little hesitant. “Uhh…”
“It’s not for me,” Seungcheol waves his hand around. “You know, I’m not much into music and all that. But I, uh, have a friend, she’s really into indie bands and stuff like that. I’m sure she’d love to check you guys out.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, if you’re not comfortable with it…”
“… It’s cool.” Dowoon takes out his phone and sends him a poster. “That’s our band right there.” he points at a name in the lineup. Seungcheol squints at it and nods. Nayeon owes him a lifetime of food for this.
Dowoon doesn’t invite him to come along and Seungcheol doesn’t mention it. Not that he really wants to, anyway. Leave the swooning to Nayeon. His work here is pretty much done.
>>>>