[One Day] Seoul Academy: The Ramblings of a Journalist I
[Title] Seoul Academy: The Ramblings of a Journalist I
[Rating] PG-13
[Disclaimer] I don't own any of the One Day boys.
[Pairings] Channuneo, Khunyoung
[Notes] Wooyoung sees a therapist, featuring all the One Day boys and Big Bang's TOP. It's been ages since I've written this verse, ahaha. Enjoy? ♥
Hwang Chansung, star and hope of the football team, was seeing a shrink.
That was the latest buzz on the rumour mill, and it wasn't long before the chief editor of Seoul Academy's only circulating newspaper caught wind of this sensational story, which in turn, led to a very grumpy Wooyoung waking up at seven on a Saturday morning in the form of a persistent ringtone that shrieked, "Hit me baby one more time!" - over and over and over again. (Mentally, Wooyoung vowed to murder Taecyeon for touching his cellphone.) After five excruciating minutes of his chief editor telling him to "haul ass to the college counseling center" - and another five for a repeat of what was just said because Wooyoung had fallen back into a half-sleep - the journalist tossed the phone aside and promptly went back to sleep.
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It was eleven by the time Wooyoung managed to drag himself out of bed, and close to about twelve by the time he got to the college counseling center. Tugging out a notebook from his backpack, he made his way to the reception counter, where a girl sat riffling idly through a magazine.
"Hey there, I'm Wooyoung, from the school newspaper."
The girl looked up and smiled just a little too brightly. "Oh hi! We were wondering when you'd show up."
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. "Did uh... did my editor call ahead or something?"
"No no," said the girl, the whites of her teeth still showing. "Some guy warned us this might happen. I think his name was Junho?"
Of course; Junho to Chansung was like a mother goose to her gosling. Except Chansung was an extra large gosling and Junho was a smaller mother goose that also happened to really, really like the Chansung-gosling-- time to get off this train of thought. "So let's get this over with," said Wooyoung bluntly. "Is it true that Chansung is seeing someone, and if so, may I have an interview with him?"
"It's true, and yes, you may have an interview."
Wait, what.
Wooyoung's eyes narrowed. "... what's the catch?"
The girl's smile widened. "I'm sorry?"
"What's the catch? As in, what are you playing at here? Are you planning to feed me some false information?"
"Nothing of the sort!" said the girl, holding her palms up defensively. "I'm just telling you what I was told to say."
"Yeah? By who?"
"By me," said a voice off the side.
Turning to face the speaker, Wooyoung found himself looking at a tall, thin man with black hair, who somehow managed to make a plain business suit look like it came out of the latest fashion catalogue for the season.
"I'm a first year graduate student at Seoul Academy and Chansung's therapist. My name is Choi Seunghyun," the man said, dark eyes somehow piercing through the lens of his framed glasses. "Shall we talk more in one of the empty rooms down the hall?"
Before Wooyoung could react, the man had strode away.
"Good luck!" the girl chirped with a giggle.
Most annoying receptionist ever.
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Wooyoung watched as Seunghyun settled down in a chair next to him, crossing his legs in a relaxed manner. There was something off about the guy. The journalist liked to think that he was pretty perceptive when it came to reading people, but this Choi Seunghyun had absolutely nothing to pick up on; it was as though he had laid an impenetrable, opaque wall around him.
"Let me preface this by saying that I can only reveal to you as far as the limits of confidentiality will allow," Seunghyun said quietly. "Does that work for you?"
"I guess, yeah," Wooyoung said with a shrug. "To be honest, I didn't even expect an interview, so."
"Good." The therapist leaned back in his seat. "What would you like to know?"
Wooyoung pushed the top of his pen with a 'click' and flipped his notebook to an empty page. "Well, what exactly is Chansung seeing you for?"
"Ah," said Seunghyun. "I'm afraid that's confidential."
"Okay... then, how would you describe Chansung's current mental state?"
"Normal," Seunghyun said without missing a beat.
"Normal?"
"Normal."
"Like, 'normal' for society, or 'normal' compared to the craz- the uh, mentally ill people?"
"Hm," said Seunghyun, lips curling at one end in a bemused smile. "How would you define 'normal'?"
Wooyoung blinked, taken aback. "I don't know... someone who doesn't seeing a shrink, maybe?"
"So a person who doesn't see a shrink is 'normal' for you."
"Well yeah. The only people I know who are seeing shrinks are depressed and kinda nuts."
Seunghyun nodded slowly, appearing to process the information in his mind. "It sounds like you're saying that you think Chansung is 'depressed and kinda nuts'."
"I didn't say that, but everyone's thinking it, you know?" Wooyoung said with growing impatience. "That's why I'm here - to find out if he really is that way."
"You sound frustrated," Seunghyun remarked. "What's making you frustrated?"
Wooyoung bit back a scathing retort; this guy was officially on his long list of people to blame should he ever snap and start wielding round a shotgun. "You're avoiding my question," he said instead.
"But I did give you an answer."
"Bullshit." If the therapist was at all fazed by Wooyoung's crude language, he didn't show it. "No one sees a shrink unless they've got some kinda mental issue they can't deal with anymore, and I'm not leaving till you tell me what it is."
"Well," said Seunghyun, tilting his head slightly. The angle made his glasses flash ominously in the light. "Perhaps you could tell me what you think of Chansung first, so I can tell you if that matches my assessment of him."
Wooyoung frowned. "Where is this going?"
"In a direction that will help you understand the situation for your article," Seunghyun said. "That's what you're hoping for, am I right?"
"... o... kay..." Wooyoung's pen clicked a few times as he paused, gathering his thoughts. "I think Chansung's a total 'himbo'. Like, a male bimbo. Good looking, but dumb as a brick."
"You think Chansung is dumb."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"What is that in comparison to?"
"Uh, the rest of the world?" Wooyoung snorted. "Excluding the football team and its groupies."
Seunghyun gave him a beatific smile. "You don't like the football team."
"Listen," Wooyoung snapped as he leapt to his feet, seat scrapping noisily against the floor. "We're supposed to be talking about Chansung here. The dumbass football player who's dating an Olympiad nerd, and, you know, as if that's not enough for a fun romantic comedy twist, that nerd also happens to be a guy. So why don't you quit your stupid shrink talk and focus on what I actually came here for, namely, to hear what sort of a whackjob Chansung is!"
There followed a bout of silence, broken only by Wooyoung's heavy breathing.
"I think it's interesting that you brought up Chansung's relationship with a male partner," Seunghyun said then. "Would you like to tell me how you feel about that?"
"No," Wooyoung shrieked, his voice reaching a most ridiculous pitch. "No, I would not like to tell you how I feel about that! That jock can fuck whoever the hell he wants!"
"I see. And what about you?"
"Chansung, dammit! Tell me about Chansung!"
"Mm. It doesn't sound like you're angry that I've changed our focus." Seunghyun shifted and leaned forward, eyes glinting. "It sounds like you're angry that I've brought up an uncomfortable topic for you."
"What- I- you--"
"Hey, Seunghyun-hyung!"
Wooyoung swallowed his spluttering when Chansung popped his head into the room.
"Hello, Chansung-sshi," Seunghyun said calmly.
"I don't think I need to see you anymore," Chansung said, grinning. "Everything worked out on its own!"
"Wonderful, I'm glad to hear that."
Chansung flashed Wooyoung a wink. "Seeing Seunghyun-hyung too, huh? Don't worry, he's a great listener."
Wooyoung's chest puffed out indignantly. "I am not-"
"He's gone," said Seunghyun. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"
Gritting his teeth, Wooyoung threw his notebook into his backpack and slung it so vehemently across his shoulder that it slapped painfully against his back. "Thanks a lot," he said with a snarl. "You could've just denied comment like most sane people would, instead of screwing with my mind and wasting a whole twenty minutes of my life."
"I'm sorry you found this a waste," said Seunghyun gently. "Perhaps another time, Wooyoung-sshi."
Wooyoung shuddered; he definitely didn't remember giving Seunghyun his name. Spinning round, he left the room without another word.
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"I could've told you why Chansung went to a shrink," Kwon said, absently patting toner on his face.
Wooyoung paused in mid-rant. "Are you serious?"
"Yep," said Kwon, turning from his reflection in the mirror for a second to pick up a tube of moisturizer. "He wanted advice on containing his hormones."
"Oh." Wooyoung blinked. "What?"
"Last week was midterm week and Junho's too busy to give him any."
"So he sees a shrink just... just because..."
"Junho's not putting out, if you know what I mean."
"Why doesn't he just score with some groupie of his?"
"Uh," said Kwon, his reflection rolling its eyes. "Because he loves Junho?"
"But he came by to say it worked out."
"Woo-dong," Kwon said patiently, as he gave the mirror his most dazzling smile. "I said last week was midterm week."
Slowly, Wooyoung sank onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands.
"Wanna hear what else I could've told you?" Kwon said, turning round to flash a grin at his roommate.
Wooyoung's head shot up so fast, his neck made a painful cracking noise. "Say one more word about this supposed crush I've got and I'll drop-kick you to Mars."
"You are such a homophobic prude," Kwon huffed. "Maybe you could talk to Seunghyun-hyung about that."
Before Wooyoung could fling a pillow at Kwon, the smaller boy had ducked out of the room, snickering loudly.
No juicy story plus no article equals to one gigantic crap of a morning. The phone buzzed - hit me baby one more time - and with great effort, Wooyoung jerked it out of his pocket. "What," he snapped irritably into the receiver.
"... um," said a familiar, soft voice on the other line. "Is this a bad time?"
Instantly, Wooyoung rose from the bed, cheeks colouring in embarrassment. "K-Khun! I thought you were my editor..."
"Oh." Quiet chuckling. "I was just calling to ask if you wanted to have lunch together, but I guess you're busy-"
"I'm always open!" Wooyoung gripped his phone tightly, head buzzing. "Uh, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was, uh..."
More chuckling. "I get it. Cafeteria in half an hour?"
"Yeah," said Wooyoung, dropping back down onto the bed; his legs were trembling. "Yeah, see you."
"Bye."
The journalist stayed on the bed for a long moment, staring hard at his cellphone. He had always found Nichkhun good-looking, yes; so did everyone else in Seoul Academy. After all, not many people had such fair skin, rosy cheeks, or those big, round eyes. As if that wasn't enough, the foreign student was also kind and gentle and understanding, with the most beautiful, melting smile that--
Swiftly, Wooyoung dropped his phone and recoiled from the device.
Fuck you, Choi Seunghyun. Fuck. You.
[Rating] PG-13
[Disclaimer] I don't own any of the One Day boys.
[Pairings] Channuneo, Khunyoung
[Notes] Wooyoung sees a therapist, featuring all the One Day boys and Big Bang's TOP. It's been ages since I've written this verse, ahaha. Enjoy? ♥
Hwang Chansung, star and hope of the football team, was seeing a shrink.
That was the latest buzz on the rumour mill, and it wasn't long before the chief editor of Seoul Academy's only circulating newspaper caught wind of this sensational story, which in turn, led to a very grumpy Wooyoung waking up at seven on a Saturday morning in the form of a persistent ringtone that shrieked, "Hit me baby one more time!" - over and over and over again. (Mentally, Wooyoung vowed to murder Taecyeon for touching his cellphone.) After five excruciating minutes of his chief editor telling him to "haul ass to the college counseling center" - and another five for a repeat of what was just said because Wooyoung had fallen back into a half-sleep - the journalist tossed the phone aside and promptly went back to sleep.
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It was eleven by the time Wooyoung managed to drag himself out of bed, and close to about twelve by the time he got to the college counseling center. Tugging out a notebook from his backpack, he made his way to the reception counter, where a girl sat riffling idly through a magazine.
"Hey there, I'm Wooyoung, from the school newspaper."
The girl looked up and smiled just a little too brightly. "Oh hi! We were wondering when you'd show up."
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. "Did uh... did my editor call ahead or something?"
"No no," said the girl, the whites of her teeth still showing. "Some guy warned us this might happen. I think his name was Junho?"
Of course; Junho to Chansung was like a mother goose to her gosling. Except Chansung was an extra large gosling and Junho was a smaller mother goose that also happened to really, really like the Chansung-gosling-- time to get off this train of thought. "So let's get this over with," said Wooyoung bluntly. "Is it true that Chansung is seeing someone, and if so, may I have an interview with him?"
"It's true, and yes, you may have an interview."
Wait, what.
Wooyoung's eyes narrowed. "... what's the catch?"
The girl's smile widened. "I'm sorry?"
"What's the catch? As in, what are you playing at here? Are you planning to feed me some false information?"
"Nothing of the sort!" said the girl, holding her palms up defensively. "I'm just telling you what I was told to say."
"Yeah? By who?"
"By me," said a voice off the side.
Turning to face the speaker, Wooyoung found himself looking at a tall, thin man with black hair, who somehow managed to make a plain business suit look like it came out of the latest fashion catalogue for the season.
"I'm a first year graduate student at Seoul Academy and Chansung's therapist. My name is Choi Seunghyun," the man said, dark eyes somehow piercing through the lens of his framed glasses. "Shall we talk more in one of the empty rooms down the hall?"
Before Wooyoung could react, the man had strode away.
"Good luck!" the girl chirped with a giggle.
Most annoying receptionist ever.
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Wooyoung watched as Seunghyun settled down in a chair next to him, crossing his legs in a relaxed manner. There was something off about the guy. The journalist liked to think that he was pretty perceptive when it came to reading people, but this Choi Seunghyun had absolutely nothing to pick up on; it was as though he had laid an impenetrable, opaque wall around him.
"Let me preface this by saying that I can only reveal to you as far as the limits of confidentiality will allow," Seunghyun said quietly. "Does that work for you?"
"I guess, yeah," Wooyoung said with a shrug. "To be honest, I didn't even expect an interview, so."
"Good." The therapist leaned back in his seat. "What would you like to know?"
Wooyoung pushed the top of his pen with a 'click' and flipped his notebook to an empty page. "Well, what exactly is Chansung seeing you for?"
"Ah," said Seunghyun. "I'm afraid that's confidential."
"Okay... then, how would you describe Chansung's current mental state?"
"Normal," Seunghyun said without missing a beat.
"Normal?"
"Normal."
"Like, 'normal' for society, or 'normal' compared to the craz- the uh, mentally ill people?"
"Hm," said Seunghyun, lips curling at one end in a bemused smile. "How would you define 'normal'?"
Wooyoung blinked, taken aback. "I don't know... someone who doesn't seeing a shrink, maybe?"
"So a person who doesn't see a shrink is 'normal' for you."
"Well yeah. The only people I know who are seeing shrinks are depressed and kinda nuts."
Seunghyun nodded slowly, appearing to process the information in his mind. "It sounds like you're saying that you think Chansung is 'depressed and kinda nuts'."
"I didn't say that, but everyone's thinking it, you know?" Wooyoung said with growing impatience. "That's why I'm here - to find out if he really is that way."
"You sound frustrated," Seunghyun remarked. "What's making you frustrated?"
Wooyoung bit back a scathing retort; this guy was officially on his long list of people to blame should he ever snap and start wielding round a shotgun. "You're avoiding my question," he said instead.
"But I did give you an answer."
"Bullshit." If the therapist was at all fazed by Wooyoung's crude language, he didn't show it. "No one sees a shrink unless they've got some kinda mental issue they can't deal with anymore, and I'm not leaving till you tell me what it is."
"Well," said Seunghyun, tilting his head slightly. The angle made his glasses flash ominously in the light. "Perhaps you could tell me what you think of Chansung first, so I can tell you if that matches my assessment of him."
Wooyoung frowned. "Where is this going?"
"In a direction that will help you understand the situation for your article," Seunghyun said. "That's what you're hoping for, am I right?"
"... o... kay..." Wooyoung's pen clicked a few times as he paused, gathering his thoughts. "I think Chansung's a total 'himbo'. Like, a male bimbo. Good looking, but dumb as a brick."
"You think Chansung is dumb."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"What is that in comparison to?"
"Uh, the rest of the world?" Wooyoung snorted. "Excluding the football team and its groupies."
Seunghyun gave him a beatific smile. "You don't like the football team."
"Listen," Wooyoung snapped as he leapt to his feet, seat scrapping noisily against the floor. "We're supposed to be talking about Chansung here. The dumbass football player who's dating an Olympiad nerd, and, you know, as if that's not enough for a fun romantic comedy twist, that nerd also happens to be a guy. So why don't you quit your stupid shrink talk and focus on what I actually came here for, namely, to hear what sort of a whackjob Chansung is!"
There followed a bout of silence, broken only by Wooyoung's heavy breathing.
"I think it's interesting that you brought up Chansung's relationship with a male partner," Seunghyun said then. "Would you like to tell me how you feel about that?"
"No," Wooyoung shrieked, his voice reaching a most ridiculous pitch. "No, I would not like to tell you how I feel about that! That jock can fuck whoever the hell he wants!"
"I see. And what about you?"
"Chansung, dammit! Tell me about Chansung!"
"Mm. It doesn't sound like you're angry that I've changed our focus." Seunghyun shifted and leaned forward, eyes glinting. "It sounds like you're angry that I've brought up an uncomfortable topic for you."
"What- I- you--"
"Hey, Seunghyun-hyung!"
Wooyoung swallowed his spluttering when Chansung popped his head into the room.
"Hello, Chansung-sshi," Seunghyun said calmly.
"I don't think I need to see you anymore," Chansung said, grinning. "Everything worked out on its own!"
"Wonderful, I'm glad to hear that."
Chansung flashed Wooyoung a wink. "Seeing Seunghyun-hyung too, huh? Don't worry, he's a great listener."
Wooyoung's chest puffed out indignantly. "I am not-"
"He's gone," said Seunghyun. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"
Gritting his teeth, Wooyoung threw his notebook into his backpack and slung it so vehemently across his shoulder that it slapped painfully against his back. "Thanks a lot," he said with a snarl. "You could've just denied comment like most sane people would, instead of screwing with my mind and wasting a whole twenty minutes of my life."
"I'm sorry you found this a waste," said Seunghyun gently. "Perhaps another time, Wooyoung-sshi."
Wooyoung shuddered; he definitely didn't remember giving Seunghyun his name. Spinning round, he left the room without another word.
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"I could've told you why Chansung went to a shrink," Kwon said, absently patting toner on his face.
Wooyoung paused in mid-rant. "Are you serious?"
"Yep," said Kwon, turning from his reflection in the mirror for a second to pick up a tube of moisturizer. "He wanted advice on containing his hormones."
"Oh." Wooyoung blinked. "What?"
"Last week was midterm week and Junho's too busy to give him any."
"So he sees a shrink just... just because..."
"Junho's not putting out, if you know what I mean."
"Why doesn't he just score with some groupie of his?"
"Uh," said Kwon, his reflection rolling its eyes. "Because he loves Junho?"
"But he came by to say it worked out."
"Woo-dong," Kwon said patiently, as he gave the mirror his most dazzling smile. "I said last week was midterm week."
Slowly, Wooyoung sank onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands.
"Wanna hear what else I could've told you?" Kwon said, turning round to flash a grin at his roommate.
Wooyoung's head shot up so fast, his neck made a painful cracking noise. "Say one more word about this supposed crush I've got and I'll drop-kick you to Mars."
"You are such a homophobic prude," Kwon huffed. "Maybe you could talk to Seunghyun-hyung about that."
Before Wooyoung could fling a pillow at Kwon, the smaller boy had ducked out of the room, snickering loudly.
No juicy story plus no article equals to one gigantic crap of a morning. The phone buzzed - hit me baby one more time - and with great effort, Wooyoung jerked it out of his pocket. "What," he snapped irritably into the receiver.
"... um," said a familiar, soft voice on the other line. "Is this a bad time?"
Instantly, Wooyoung rose from the bed, cheeks colouring in embarrassment. "K-Khun! I thought you were my editor..."
"Oh." Quiet chuckling. "I was just calling to ask if you wanted to have lunch together, but I guess you're busy-"
"I'm always open!" Wooyoung gripped his phone tightly, head buzzing. "Uh, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was, uh..."
More chuckling. "I get it. Cafeteria in half an hour?"
"Yeah," said Wooyoung, dropping back down onto the bed; his legs were trembling. "Yeah, see you."
"Bye."
The journalist stayed on the bed for a long moment, staring hard at his cellphone. He had always found Nichkhun good-looking, yes; so did everyone else in Seoul Academy. After all, not many people had such fair skin, rosy cheeks, or those big, round eyes. As if that wasn't enough, the foreign student was also kind and gentle and understanding, with the most beautiful, melting smile that--
Swiftly, Wooyoung dropped his phone and recoiled from the device.
Fuck you, Choi Seunghyun. Fuck. You.