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[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Though the response from Yonghan was a little rough and awkward, Minwoo was pleased. “That’s fine,” he replied with a shrug. “And, no problem. I don’t want you to walk home alone -- it’s dark and cold,” he reminded, as his gaze fell on the gym’s skylights. He was stalling texting his brother. It wasn’t the text response he was stressing over, but the car ride following it; whether the proposition was rejected or not, both would be exhausting and torturous. Maybe he was overexaggerating, and maybe the gravity of the situation wasn’t as grave as he imagined. But that quick, cool thought couldn’t stomp out the fear.

He was being dramatic.

His eyes cut to his classmate's phone, -- not intentionally -- and he laughed lightly. “My mom plays that,” he commented. For a moment, he watched over the other’s shoulder, focusing on the crushing jellies. Divine. The boost of serotonin when the line of candies shattered was great, and he found the game pretty satisfying, but he didn’t have time for silly mobile games. “The purple ones right there,” he pointed out softly with an incline of the head. “Ah, you’re pretty good at this -- at least compared to my mom.”

He couldn’t keep stalling, and he knew it. Sighing, he turned away from Yonghan to rifle through his bag for his phone. Hands clasped around the smartphone, he pulled up his brother’s contact info in his phone. Minseok. The monotonous, straightforward contact name was formal and serious; he hated it, but what else was he supposed to put there? They had zero sibling nicknames, or inside jokes to put there, so there was nothing other than Minseok or brother. He could always substitute his name for an insult, but he did not want to risk getting caught.

Minwoo: My friend needs a ride home

Minseok: Who? Jaeho? Can’t he drive? He’s that dumb that he screwed up and got his license revoked or something??
Minseok: Come on, don’t waste my time with this dumb shit. It’s annoying.

Minwoo: No, a new friend. He lives farther from school.

Minseok: Whatever. Fine. See you in 10.

It went better than unexpected but still was far from good. The elder had such an effect that even his texts could be laced with venom and disdain. Minwoo loathed the way he spoke of Jaeho sometimes; he would talk with such disgust and elitism. He assumed these factors were the reason his brother didn’t have many friends. But, somehow, he still managed to land a girlfriend.

“Good news, my brother agreed to drive you home,” he brought up, turning back towards Yonghan. “I guess you could just text him the address.” With a shrug, he held out his phone to the student. He felt slightly ashamed to have the chat logs out on display for Yonghan, but he could always use the excuse it was just brotherly banter and nothing more.

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

"My mom plays that." For a moment, Yonghan felt very conscious of Minwoo peering over his shoulder, so much so that Minwoo had to point out a rather obvious set of purple candies for him. Yonghan wasn't used to being paid attention to by any of his peers, even for such a brief and ephemeral moment; due to his reputation, most people made it a point to ignore him and avoid eye contact. Yonghan felt amused, and a little affronted, at the thought. It wasn't like he fought with random people in the halls -- that would be stupid and pointless.

Yonghan turned off the mindless game and took Minwoo's phone, eyebrows raising as the previous messages glared up at him from the bright screen. This Minseok sounded like a dick; Yonghan didn't know anything about Minwoo's dynamic with his brother, but frankly, if he were in Minwoo's place, the redhead would definitely be getting into way too many fights at home. Yonghan couldn't stand people who sounded like Minseok -- they were the kinds of people he brawled with the most. And while he was sure that there were people out there who would snub at him for being a dick as well, Yonghan knew it was different. He got into fights, yes, but he wasn't a bully.

Yonghan handed the phone back after typing his address, choosing not to comment on the previous texts. If Minseok bothered him that much, then it would be made known while the three were in the car.

Soon enough, Minseok's car pulled up outside the school. The redhead immediately wrinkled his nose once he plopped in the back seat; he could practically taste the stench of the tobacco in the air. It was disgusting. Yonghan shifted around, fidgeting constantly; being in a stranger's car was uncomfortable. He planned to stare out the window the entire time.

"Hey, Minwoo-yah," Minseok snapped from the front seat. "Tell the matchstick to shut up and stop moving around, will you?"

Yonghan immediately bristled at the tone and flexed his hands. Ideally, he would punch Minseok in the face; he was growing tense, and the adrenaline boost would certainly do him no harm, but Minseok was driving. Yonghan had enough sense not to kill them all.

Gee by Girl's Generation was playing quietly from the radio, to Yonghan's pleasant surprise. He leaned forward, ignoring Minseok, who was clearly getting even more annoyed, and aggressively turned up the volume. "Gee gee gee gee baby baby baby" was now blaring loudly from inside of the car, so loudly that the underlying static was buzzing annoyingly through the air.

"It's a good song," Yonghan explained honestly. "SNSD is legendary. I'd rather hear their voices than yours." Yonghan said the last part snideley and shrugged, leaning back in his seat. I'm not even getting into a fight. Are you happy, world?

pasta

ROH YONGHAN

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

© pasta​

 

[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Minwoo was praying, hoping nothing serious would happen for the duration of the car ride. The tobacco stench was already triggering a migraine, and an even greater one would form if he had to deal with unremitting bullying -- and perish the thought, it would only become shittier if Yonghan got dragged into it. Just stay silent. He focused his gaze on the window, looking past his ghost to watch the passing buildings. He paid minimal regard to anything going on in the car until Minseok opened his mouth and spoke to him. The malice words weren’t met for him this time, but instead, the offhanded insult was for Yonghan.

Here we go.

“C’mon, man, that’s not very--” He stopped mid-sentence, observing as Yonghan amped up the radio’s volume. He has to be crazy, then again, he didn’t know Minseok like Minwoo. And, he spoke with the same amount of bitterness. Back talking to Minseok, it was a senseless choice of action. Minwoo couldn’t help but briefly glower at his teammate for poking the bear, his mouth parted in shock, and an undertow of anxiety tugged at his thoughts. His gaze flickered to his older brother as he spoke.

“You have to be joking,” the elder started, irritation blisteringly clear, in his voice as he stretched to turn the music back down. “I swear to god, all the people you’re friends with are complete idiots or dicks one way or another,” he commented before turning his attention to Yonghan. “And, who raised you so shittly; you sound like a child -- I mean, I could just kick you out of the car right now, matchstick.”

“If you kick him out, I’m getting out too,” Minwoo interjected. Usually, he would have stayed placid if it was just them in the car and allowed himself to become a punching bag, but now that the abuses were directed at a friend, he couldn’t. He knew if he walked home, his mother would be pissed, not at him, but his brother for permitting it to happen. And with his brother’s constant yearning for positive recognition from their parents, this wouldn’t fly well. The athlete was royally screwed for when they got home.

“Don’t start with this shit Minwoo. It’s so annoying when you keep trying to play a good guy. Just shut up.” Just a warning, thank god. “Or I’ll break your knee again.” Nevermind. It was an empty threat, though, but it still stung red marks of shame on Minwoo's cheeks.

He swore in a quiet hissing under breath as he tried to figure out what to do. He had such a delicate margin to work with, and everything felt rigid and stiff. The tensity of the situation clearly seeped in his brother’s train of thought as well by the way he took out a cigarette at a stoplight and tapped it against his wrist, eventually igniting it with a colorful lighter. Knowing his older brother would not open his window for the sake of their health, Minwoo took the advantage to open his own.

Unlike him, his brother was paler and had foxier features; foxy eyes and grin. Though, they remained close in appearance enough that it was clear they were siblings. But their temperaments were opposites; Minseok had to have power over everyone while Minwoo was more of a passivist and just floated along. A shark versus a minnow.

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

roh yonghan

pasta

Yonghan couldn't make himself feel particularly guilty when Minwoo broke his perfect character to glower at him. Minseok was being a dick -- therefore, Yonghan had to lash back at him. How could he allow someone to make a jab at him and not do anything about it?

But then again, from what Yonghan had seen from the hours before, Minwoo was a pacifist. When Yonghan said some . . . questionable things to him, Minwoo had remained composed. Even in his chat history with his dickish brother, Minwoo didn't lash out. Minwoo truly fit the color blue as well as Yonghan fit the color red.

Yonghan's adrenaline had spiked as soon as Minseok began speaking, and he doubted it was going down anytime soon. He desperately wanted to keep lashing out at Minseok, just for the satisfying rush he knew he would feel. But Yonghan glanced at Minwoo and took a deep breath of the air tinged heavily with the scent of tobacco, and told himself to try and shut up.

And in all honestly, Yonghan was a physical kind of guy. He was not used to verbal battles.

“And, who raised you so shittily --"

And suddenly, all of Yonghan's hopes flew out the window.

He could feel the self-control seeping out of him, like sand streaming slowly but steadily through the narrow neck of an hourglass. Yonghan opened his mouth to yell at the bastard, but Minseok just continued talking, and the conversation moved on. Yonghan slumped in his seat, emotions building up inside of him like a darkening storm cloud.

Contrary to popular belief, Yonghan's parents weren't troubled or volatile. His entire family was built on stability and kindness. His mother and his sister were both emotionally oriented, but they remained sensible. His father was more logical and not one to talk about his feelings, but he was quietly kind and loved his family. Yonghan's family raised him on the basis of hard work and universal kindness; they set a brilliant example for him, with the way they truly exemplified those ideals. In that moment, it suddenly struck Yonghan on how much he strayed on those values. He was still angry, but the flames of his fury were gradually being drowned out by a pouring raincloud of . . . sadness. Yonghan was sad.

This is why I should just beat people up instead of arguing with them, Yonghan thought to himself, trying to pull the anger back out from underneath the suffocating blanket of melancholy. It didn't work, and Yonghan reaffirmed to himself that he could not stand to linger in his own head.

"Don’t start with this shit Minwoo. It’s so annoying when you keep trying to play a good guy. Just shut up. Or I’ll break your knee again."

Those words pulled Yonghan out of his thoughts, and shamefully enough, he was relieved to hear them. Relieved, because those words allowed the anger to flourish and dominate over Yonghan's feelings of dejection.

Yonghan's head snapped towards Minwoo; in the dim light of stray moon rays glinting through the window, Yonghan caught the flush of shame on the other boy's cheeks. He turned back towards Minseok.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Yonghan snapped. "I don't think you know how nice Minwoo is being to you, considering that you're acting like this to him! You're really fucking lucky to have a brother who's kind enough to tolerate your shit instead of throwing it back to your ugly ass face. You call me a child, but here you are, fucking bullying someone who's doing nothing wrong to you. If anyone deserves to be treated like a piece of shit, it's you! Don't threaten Minwoo, and don't treat him like this. Maybe he won't do anything about it, but I have no fucking problem with beating you up until you're just some shitstain in the ground. What you're doing is fucking wrong, and Minwoo doesn't deserve any of the shit you're giving him!"

Yonghan's blood was boiling -- there was certainly no sadness left.

Minseok was getting visibly angry, with the way his face was flushing. "The fuck is wrong with you kid? Get your gay shit out of here."

Yonghan refrained from punching a window -- as much as he would like to horrify Minseok, he didn't want to be know as the guy who broke their car window to Minwoo's parents. "I'm not fucking gay, but I'd rather be a homosexual instead of someone like you!"

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

code by valen t.

 

[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Minwoo wanted silence. He wanted the whole dispute to dissipate into the nicotine air, but he knew it was implausible. The ride was going to go by in a dreadful blur, mottled with anger issues, girl groups, and cigarettes. His brother was acting more and more like a cornered dog, snapping at whatever low hanging fruit he could, and the athlete could tell Yonghan wasn’t one to quiet down and take it. Though he felt the situation was relatively predictable, nothing could prepare him for the way his teammate defended him.

“Oh…” he sounded, blinking at Yonghan’s rant. It was refreshing having someone defend him. Usually, Jaeho would laugh at Minseok’s attempts to get under his skin, and Minwoo would brush off the harsh jabs and save the overthinking for later. But he had always been particularly sensitive to any insult about the accident. And, frankly, his older brother was getting what he deserved, but he doubted Minseok would take anything positive from the confrontation.

“The fuck is wrong with you, kid? Get your gay shit out of here.” Of course, Minseok would go for the sexuality insult route. Leave it to him to not properly argue. Even with no proof or any way of knowing, he had always attempted to use that insult against Minwoo. Funnily, every time he used it, he just sounded like a prepubescent bully, and the athlete couldn’t take it seriously. It was probably one of his only contumelies that didn’t strike a painful chord in Minwoo.

Minwoo toyed with the idea of cooling down the situation, but their arguing was so vicious compared to the arguments he was used to; he wasn’t sure if his attempts would even dent into the mass of tension. But, he couldn’t just sit there and let the two argue, especially with the window open and the entirety of Seoul to hear them.

“Has it ever occurred to either of you that you’re arguing over nothing? You guys don’t even know each other, and you’re going at so… geez.” Pausing delicately, he smoothed his tongue over his lips. “And, the window is open.” Maybe they weren’t arguing over nothing, and he was just so attuned to his brother’s dickish attitude. But, regardless, their dispute wasn’t solving anything; the two were just becoming brash and irritating.

Minseok didn’t say anything, only took a long drag from his cigarette, the embers from the butt of the stick glowed orange and lurid in the dark car, and filaments of smoke floated to the ceiling. Blowing out a thick jet stream of smoke, he shook his head. “Yeah, well, if he wasn’t being so fucking -- whatever. Should’ve known better not to argue with an incompetent child.” He couldn’t stop, could he? The elder brother stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray he fit into the car’s cup holder.

Minwoo glanced back, throwing a penitent look Yonghan’s way. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up apologizing multiple times the following day for his sibling’s doing.

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

roh yonghan

pasta

"Has it ever occurred to either of you that you’re arguing over nothing? You guys don’t even know each other, and you’re going at so . . . geez."

The first thing Yonghan felt was hurt; it was like he had been running and running and running, his blood pumping with adrenaline and the heat of the sun shining down on his face, only for a stray arrow to dig into his calf and rip away, exposing a bleeding gash. Yonghan didn't stop immediately -- the adrenaline was still sustaining him -- but eventually, the pain ached and ached and made his limbs feel leaden until he was forced to halt in his tracks.

Yonghan's family always called him sensitive, albeit in a fond way, their voices like honey over apples. As he grew up and as his personality hardened, much of that sensitivity translated into volatility. But Yonghan never truly lost his old self; he changed quite a bit, for better or worse, ever since Seongja's drowning, but his past always clung to him. His younger self always lingered in his shadow.

Bitter words and spiteful taunts from guys like Minseok had Yonghan's newer self rushing to lash back. They never really hurt him; insults only made Yonghan angry. His pride was both insurmountable and insurmountably fragile.

Which was why, when Minwoo scolded both Minseok and Yonghan for arguing like children, the redhead had to hold the little kid inside of him back from crossing his arms and pouting petulantly. That didn't stop Yonghan from turning his gaze to the window, losing himself in the dimly-lit scenery whooshing by, and inevitably, his thoughts. I defend him from Dick Minseok, and what does he do? Ungrateful, Yonghan grumbled internally, annoyed, before admitting, it doesn't matter -- I still would've done it.

Yonghan was always raised to do the right thing, even if everyone else chose to look away; he was raised to volunteer for charitable organizations, to help the less fortunate, and to always defend a victim -- to never be a bystander. What separated Yonghan from his mother or his sister, however, was that Seongja or their mother would still help someone who was being spiteful to them. A homeless man could snarl at them and spit at the ground in front of their feet, but they would still hand him a one-thousand won bill with a smile on their face. If anything, Seongja's smile would maybe tremble for a few moments, but she always moved on quickly.

Yonghan wasn't immoral, but he couldn't care to help someone who was rude or ungrateful. When he was younger, it was because his bottom lip would tremble and he would burst into tears. In his teenage years, however, Yonghan was more likely to punch someone instead of run away. The redhead wouldn't admit that the reason why he reacted so turbulently to something that Seongja and his mother could still keep a bright smile on their face towards was that he sought validation and gratitude; deep in the murky waters of his subconscious, he mused that Seongja probably didn't need people to react well for her to be good.

Maybe Appa wouldn't be happy to see me beating people up, Yonghan thought to himself, lowly amused. But I'm still doing the right thing. So what does it matter?

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

code by valen t.

 

[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Silence surged into the car. Besides the bubblegum pop girl group on the radio singing their heart out, it was still and silent. He shifted in his seat, the heat rising from the vents was becoming uncomfortably warm, and the dramatic huffing from his brother was almost comical. It felt weird now; everyone quietening down didn’t bring the calm atmosphere he was hoping, it only produced a glacial awkwardness. And it started raining -- Great! -- he was dreading the following morning, where he would have to walk through sodden leaves on glossy pavements under bureaucratic daylight. Before the car’s interior got destroyed by water, he quickly moved to shut his window and fell back against the seat with a quiet huff.

He hated the rain. It was rotten, uncomfortable weather that created mud and water damage. Not to mention, it was depressing, especially in the daylight; gray, heavy skies with icy, sharp droplets. Maybe it was pathetic of him to allow weather, of all things, to influence his mood. But, he couldn’t help it, those dark, stormy days made him sad. His mom was like that as well, and it’s what influenced him to respond that way. He could easily recall her clutching her necklace dramatically from the inside of the house and proclaiming how the drizzle was just ruining her day.

Yawning, he slumped in his seat, eyes watching as droplets streamed down the car window. He was hoping once Yonghan was dropped off, the car would remain this way: overheated and shamed with an awkward hush. But perhaps that was wishful thinking, especially with the turmoil experienced in the vehicle minutes prior. If Minseok didn’t manage to turn the whole situation on Minwoo, he would still rant about it on their way home. Fun. It would probably be hell, considering the athlete was suffering from an ugly migrainous headache and engulfed with narcotic heaviness.

He shut his eyes for a brief moment, listening to the fuzzy pelting of the rain on the roof and as cars splashed rainwater against the wet sidewalks. It provided no relief and arguably made the headache worse. He was pretty sure he had some type of allergy to tobacco products, and his brother liked smoking in his car. All the chemicals from his cigarettes sunk into the cracked leather interior just like into his brother’s lungs; the effects irreversible.

The car pulled over, halting in front of what presumably was Yonghan’s home or at least what the phone’s GPS said. Sitting up in his seat, he surveyed the residence, taking an interest in where his classmate lived. His older brother played no mind, probably glad the teenager was getting out of his car finally. Minwoo felt the opposite as the elder, even though the remainder of the ride was more than awkward. Now, he had to deal with Minseok alone.

“Yonghan,” he addressed, glancing back from the passenger seat. “It was nice hanging out with you.” No practice, no training -- just hanging out. “Hope we can do it again sometime.”

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

roh yonghan

pasta

Yonghan frowned as it started raining; he didn't have any particular aversion towards rain -- in fact, it could sometimes be pleasant -- but the timing only made the downpour dampen his mood.

Yonghan felt a rush of relief when Minseok finally pulled up to his apartment complex, the sensation akin to a towering wave finally crashing against the shore. Yonghan's gaze flicked to the two brothers; he wasn't particularly ashamed of where he lived, but he did wonder what the two thought of it. Yonghan grew up in a stable and happy middle-class family, and while he and his mother weren't poor by any means, his father's suicide meant more than half of their income source washing away, like a sandcastle dissolving into waves. Yonghan really preferred not to think about his father's death in that way, but he knew it was true. Seoul was also more expensive to live in than Ansan, so once he and his mother moved, they, unfortunately, had to lower their standards when it came to buying a home.

Yonghan was aware that his financial situation was fortunately not as dire as it could be, and while he was not ashamed, he couldn't help but notice the separation between him and some of the other students. Perhaps it was his consciousness of the change in his family's financial status that made him notice such things. Yonghan, to his disgust, did sometimes wonder what people thought of him, but that didn't mean he ever felt embarrassed about his family. His mother worked her ass off for him, and Yonghan would do far more than punch someone in the face if anyone made a wayward comment.

"Yonghan." The redhead glanced back at Minwoo and met his gaze. "It was nice hanging out with you. Hope we can do it again sometime."

Yonghan was completely taken aback -- he could barely remember a time when such things were said to him regularly. Hang out? he wondered, expelling the thought as soon as it came. Yonghan knew he would only confuse himself more if he contemplated it. He gave Minwoo a jerky nod, before scrambling out of the car and ducking his head as he dashed through the rain. He clambered up the stairs -- the elevator was out of order, again -- and headed towards his apartment, shoving his key in the keyhole.

Yonghan opened the door, and was met with the sight of his mother sitting at the small kitchen table, sipping at her ginseng tea.

"Yonghannie," she murmured, sounding relieved. "You're home." Yonghan slowly stepped inside the apartment, gently closing and locking the door behind him.

"You didn't have to wait for me, eomma," Yonghan muttered. "It's been a long day; you're probably tired."

"I wanted to," his mother insisted, setting down her mug. "We haven't spoken as much as I'd like; I want to know how things are going for you. You said you joined the volleyball team?" There was a warm glimmer in her cocoa eyes, as if she could barely contain her happiness. Yonghan felt the tension leave his body; his features relaxed as he dropped his bag near the door, moving to sit across from his mother. She poured a cup of tea for him, mixing in a dollop of honey. Yonghan accepted it graciously, even though he didn't care much for ginseng.

"Yeah," he answered quietly. "They offered me a place on the team --" Yonghan pointedly refused to explain how that happened "-- and I thought it'd be nice to do something at school." I thought it'd be nice to make you proud of me.

Yonghan's mother smiled warmly; the glow in her face seemed to add a few years to her lifespan. "I'm proud of you, Yonghannie," she said with certainty, placing her hand on his. "I know it's hard for you, but it makes me happy to see you growing and living your life. Have you made any friends?" Her tone was warm and gentle like the steady flame in an oil lamp, but there was an undertone of almost desperate hope, like the flame of her faith in Yonghan was growing and flickering.

"Yeah!" Yonghan blurted out; he didn't want to see that flame of hope go out. "Yeah, there's this guy named Minwoo. He's the person who helped train me tonight."

To Yonghan's relief, his mother seemed perfectly satisfied with the answer. "Wonderful," she beamed, standing up. "It's only been a day -- I'm confident that you'll make even more friends!" Yonghan gave her a strained smile -- he didn't have the same optimism.

"You should go to bed soon," his mother continued. "You need your rest. Did you finish your homework during self-study?"

Yonghan's silence said it all. His mother frowned faintly, and Yonghan dropped his head, mournful that he already made disappointed again.

"That's all right," she said encouragingly. She knelt down to place her hands on Yonghan's. "Your best effort is good enough for me, Yonghannie. But if you need help, it's important to ask. There's nothing to lose." She ruffled his hair gently, before standing up again.

"Good night, darling."

"Good night, eomma."

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

code by valen t.

 

[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Outside, with morning, the hard downpour from nightfall had turned into a mere drizzle, water dripping from awnings and beading on trash bags. The school’s perfect grass was drenched and muddy, the air was heavy with fog and the sent of rain, and the sidewalks were glossy and slick. Minwoo was plagued with melancholy and legarthy, and it was mostly to blame on the rotten weather. Though with the rain slowing down, his mood was starting to brighten up.

The previous night’s events had been pressing down on him for the entirety of volleyball practice. He had succeeded in forgetting it that morning, but after spotting Yonghan, it came crashing down with a sharp sting of shame and guilt. He overestimated his brother’s mercy to strangers once again, but at least he actually agreed to give his friend a ride home -- it was just a miserable ride. He had apologized to Yonghan over text once he got home, but he doubted that was enough to make for his brother’s wrong doings. Perhaps a formal apology was necessary.

The lunch table perusal was boisterous and lively. Lunch tray in hand, he took his seat in the usual spot facing Jaeho and besides a couple members of their “fan club.” He had briefly mentioned the Minseok situation to the team’s captain during practice, but their coach showed up too early for any further discussions. Minwoo doubted it bothered Jaeho too much; honestly, he probably wanted to bring it up to Yonghan.

“I can’t believe it,” Jaeho mused, clapping his hands together. “I mean, man, it’s the battle of anger issues, isn’t it?” He spoke more to himself than anyone else. “...Now, where’s the new kid? Really, I need to hear his experience first hand.”

At least someone could get a kick out of the situation. “Amusing, sure,” Minwoo grumbled as he lazily poked at his food. “Try being in the car while they yelled at each other. I mean, it was miserable.” He only got a shrug in response as his friend from across the table focused his attention on his meal. “Shitty situation first hand,” he added.

Multiple occurrences similar to the previous night’s had happened to Jaeho -- much to Minwoo’s dismay and attempts to mellow out the situation -- but Jaeho didn’t act nearly the same way as Yonghan; instead, he laughed. Of course, that didn’t sit well with the manager’s older brother since he wasn’t winning the reaction he wanted at all. Fortunately, every time Jaeho replied with light responses, Minseok shut up; if he kept trying to dig at the captain’s everlasting confidence and ego, he would make an absolute fool of himself.

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

roh yonghan

pasta

The morning was damp and cold, coated with an overcoat of desaturation. The concrete sidewalks, sodden with residual rainwater, were colored a dark gray. Yonghan, as usual, kicked any stray rocks he came across as he entered the subway station, staring adamantly out the window once he took a seat on the train. He unintentionally attracted the attention of others, with the bright cherry red of his hair and the strange, obnoxious green on his school uniform. He didn't want to have eyes on him, but the uniform was unavoidable, and he definitely wasn't going to be boring and change his hair back to black just to avoid the lingering glances; the best Yonghan could do was turn his head away, never meeting the sets of dark brown orbs that flickered to his form.

The morning rush hour was unpleasant, to say the least. As usual, Yonghan offered his seat to a hobbling elderly woman once the car was filled to capacity with students and office workers. He nodded brusquely in response to her croaky words of thanks, his grip on the grab handle tense and unyielding. Yonghan stared determinedly at the flickering advertisements that were shown through the windows, never turning his head. I know him, he would recall faintly, as familiar actors and Kpop idols appeared, holding fruit drinks or fried chicken.

The long subway ride, as usual, was uncomfortable but not unbearable. What was unbearable, however, were Yonghan's classes. His mind groaned and moaned as he suffered through subjects most Koreans were probably good at. I can't fucking do this, he would tell himself as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Yonghan found himself eagerly anticipating volleyball practice -- finally, there would be something involving movement instead of the endless droning of teachers talking about formulas or chemical bonds. Yonghan's steps faltered like a skipping heartbeat when he caught sight of Minwoo, being reminded of the events from the night before. The redhead shook it off, though, quickly moving on to focus on volleyball -- so what if Minseok was a dick? He wasn't going to ruminate over that.

Aside from a few moments of rising tension between Yonghan and some of the other players, the practice had gone rather well. Sure, there were a few people on the team who glanced at him with determined disdain, but at least he hadn't gotten into a scuffle. Small mercies, indeed. Yonghan's mother would be relieved.

Yonghan swallowed the thick knot of apprehension in the back of his throat as he slouched into the cafeteria. He never ate in the bustling canteen -- sometimes, he would bring himself food or a snack, but regardless of whether he had the time to make a lunch or not, Yonghan always spent the lunch period somewhere around campus, be it on the roof or in a hidden cranny between two buildings.

Yonghan wasn't fond of crowds -- or multiple people in general. On the subway, it was more bearable, since everyone was living their individual, separate lives; his soul would only brush against another's for a brief moment before they scattered away, never to see one another again. In the cafeteria though, Yonghan had to actively participate in the boisterous setting (why else would anyone voluntarily spend their lunch in the too-loud canteen?). Minwoo's offer had been tempting; Yonghan didn't really have a problem with the other man, and it wasn't like he had many other friends to go to. Might as well take advantage of the offer while it still stood.

As he shuffled in line with his empty tray clutched in his left hand, Yonghan was very quickly reminded of why he avoided the cafeteria at all costs. The lingering temptation of Minwoo's offer and the potential friendship aspect poofed away into nothingness. Yonghan rolled his eyes; he seriously wanted to leave, but forced himself to remain in line and get his food.

Yonghan glanced at the now-full tray in his hands. The rice, the soup, the meat, the kimchi, all for free -- it was alluring, there was no doubt about it. Yonghan wasn't sure if he was able to sacrifice his desperate need for solitude in order to get a free lunch, but he was having second thoughts.

Yonghan kept his gaze focused on the ground a few feet in front of him as he neared the table with the volleyball team. If he was anyone else, he probably would've looked shy, but Yonghan was Yonghan, and he could tell from the occasional faint whisper around him that people thought he was just aloof.

"Hey, it's the man of the hour!" Yonghan could hear Jaeho's voice before he even raised his gaze to look at the team. From the way his skin crawled and how the table hushed for an ephemeral moment, Yonghan could tell that their collective attention had directed itself to him. As he silently took the open seat next to Minwoo, the conversations continued, although he met a few pairs of eyes as he glanced up -- most of them being from girls.

"So, you were stuck with the infamous Seo Minseok last night, weren't you?" Jaeho's tone refused to dampen its almost obnoxious golden retriever quality. He propped his arms upon the table and set his chin on top of his clasped hands, leaning forward dramatically. "Tell me, what was that like?"

Yonghan decided the entertain the other teen by answering. "He was a dick and a shitty brother," he said shortly. Jaeho waited for more elaboration, but none came. While Yonghan certainly would've never attacked the driver of a moving car, the occasional twitch of his fingers confirmed to him that not beating Minseok up wasn't good for his psyche. It felt like he left things . . . unfinished. Yonghan didn't want to linger on that sour feeling.

"Hey, you're Roh Yonghan, right?"

Yonghan's head jerked up when he heard the unfamiliar voice, his eyes settling on a girl on the other side of the table. Her hair was overlayed with auburn highlights, and up close, Yonghan noticed the faint mask of concealer under her eyes and the pink tint to her lips, despite the school's restriction against makeup. Is this . . . a fangirl?

The fan club was absurd and really strange to experience first-hand -- why did they have to be there? Why did they sit so close to them? The feeling of being surrounded by some of his miffed teammates and a gaggle of unfamiliar girls was stifling.

Yonghan nodded once in response, turning his gaze down to his food to pick at the kimchi. The girl continued, however.

"I'm Lee Hyeri. Hey, you're pretty cute. Where'd you get your hair done? It looks nice."

The nonchalant tone of voice she used, accompanied by the slight giggling in the background, told Yonghan that she had no problem . . . saying her opinion, and probably had done the same with others around the table. Yonghan shifted the meat around his tray, the movements faintly awkward and his gaze lowered. He hadn't spoken to a female schoolmate in a long time -- he had forgotten how scary girls could be.

"I dyed it myself," he muttered, more under his breath than out loud. He grabbed a chunk of meat and popped it into his mouth, chewing for as long as possible, his eyes flickering briefly towards Minwoo and Jaeho. Why am I here? Why do I have to talk to her? . . . Help? No, don't help, I can handle things by myself.

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

code by valen t.

 

[pasta]

SEO MINWOO

Under the bright cafeteria lights, the manager waited for Yonghan's arrival, impatiently. Leg bouncing steadily as brain played out the worse possible outcomes, making him shift uncomfortable on the bench. Gently Minwoo’s eyes elevated from the lunch tray, quite afraid of what they would meet, as Jaeho made Yonghan’s presence known rather abruptly. It all came crashing in like an icy avalanche, a jarring sensation that made him cringe and wish he handled things differently. Thankfully, his best friend’s talkative nature made his voluntary silence appear normal. His eyebrows momentarily raised as Jaeho rushed straight into the topic of Minseok, leave it to him to get straight to the point.

Yonghan’s description of his brother was so terse and honest; though it wasn’t humorous enough to elicit a laugh from Minwoo, it still made him grin widely. A part of him felt better about the situation after that. None of it was his fault, right? Minseok’s choice of action had always been out of his hands no matter what he tried to do.

He decided they didn’t need to delve into the brother topic any further; it was fine to leave it at that. If it went on any more, he wouldn’t be surprised if Jaeho brought up one of Minwoo’s own hellish incidents with his older sibling, and none of that needed to be discussed at lunch especially, with the fan club’s ears open and taking notes. It would be embarrassing. His eyes met Jaeho’s, giving him a look, the words leave it written all over his visage.

He didn’t pay much time to Hyeri’s blatant flirting with Yonghan and instead concentrated on his meal until he caught the new student looking between Jaeho and him for something. Help, maybe? He set down his utensils, wiped his hands with his napkin, and cleared his throat. “Yourself?” He asked, smiling with a look of shock and admiration. “Isn’t that super hard to do? I think Jaeho tried to dye his hair once in like middle school, didn’t end well, did it?” Playfully directing the last bit as a jab at the team’s captain.

“Ah, we don’t speak of that. I looked terrible, and my hair was orange. I immediately dyed it back to black,” Jaeho explained before taking a swig of his water.

“Yeah, after you cried to your mom about it.”

“Well, I had no money -- I had to cry,” the captain defended as he feigned offense.

“You cried, though,” Minwoo responded with the slight incline of the head before glancing back towards Yonghan. “I’m impressed. The color is super even as well.”

“Pretty color too,” Jaeho input, hand gesturing towards Yonghan. Minwoo nodded and hummed in agreement.

Were they trying to kick Hyeri out of the conversation by giving her little time to reply? Maybe.

reveriee

 

[reveriee]

roh yonghan

pasta

It turned out that there was no need for Yonghan to resign himself to a stilted conversation -- at least on his side -- with the girl. Minwoo interjected with a warm smile, taking the attention off of the redhead and quickly going back-and-forth with Jaeho, detailing the other guy's bad hair experience. Yonghan stayed silent throughout the exchange, but internally, he felt unsurprised, with only a single splash of wry amusement coloring his mood. Of course Jaeho was the one with the hair horror story, and not Minwoo. He barely knew either of them, but Minwoo was honestly starting to look like one of the blandest people on the team. He was nice, of course -- Yonghan would give him that -- but bland, like white jasmine rice.

"I’m impressed. The color is super even as well." Yonghan tuned back into the conservation when he noticed Minwoo turn to face him.

"Pretty color too," Jaeho added.

Yonghan's brow wrinkled slightly. He wasn't really sure what the two teens were trying to do, but it looked like Hyeri could barely get a word in edgewise, and Yonghan was satisfied with that.

"Thanks," Yonghan muttered in response, his voice just loud enough for those in his vicinity to hear. His tone wasn't particularly expressive, but it wasn't unfriendly either, and Yonghan could tell from the faint whisper of murmurs around him that people were surprised to see him react so neutrally. He elevated his gaze from where it was set on his lunch tray, unintentionally meeting the dark eyes of a girl sitting next to Hyeri. She jerked back from where she had been leaning forward and whispering in the other girl's ear, clearing her throat and returning to her food, her gaze flashing upwards a single time to check if Yonghan was still looking.

Yonghan rolled his eyes an indistinguishable amount; he was aware of his reputation, and he couldn't say it was unfounded, but he expected people to have just a smidgen of faith in him. Did they really expect him to lash out against such a pure, unadulterated compliment? How would he even do that? There weren't enough layers to it for Minwoo or Jaeho to incorporate some indirect insult. At least, that was what Yonghan thought. There was a reason why he didn't like to talk to anyone, but least of all, girls; the conflicts of the female species were never to the point, and consisted of words of bitter poison slathered heavily with sugary icing and rose water. Girls always seemed to pinpoint exactly what venom had been served, but Yonghan could never get past the heavy floral stench and sweetness so overwhelming that it burned the back of his throat. Girls were complicated -- at least guys like him were forward.

"I have practice," Yonghan continued. "I've been dying my hair for a long time." Ever since he moved to Seoul with his mother. That was the time of his life when Yonghan started breaking out of the pathetic, perfect-little-boy shell, and started making his own decisions. Yonghan remembered sensing a strong pulse of disagreement in his mother's tentative words of support when he first dyed his hair green -- green! Before, Yonghan was insulted that his mother didn't support him fully, but at his hefty age of seventeen years, he could look back morosely upon that moment; not only was the dye job plain bad, but the color was disgusting, and didn't suit Yonghan at all (he doubted that atrocious neon green would suit anybody, honestly).

At least he improved, and no longer had to suffer from his former ignorance. Yonghan took to reds like a moth to a flame, and fully explored them, having tried everything from a deep blood red, resembling red velvet cake more than anything, to an orange-tinged vermillion. At last, he settled on a ruby; the dye was more of a flashy cherry red when first applied, but it would fade to pink over time. Yonghan went with it full-heartedly -- he had no issues with having Barbie pink tresses.

"I can tell," Hyeri crooned. Her tone sounded offhand and nonchalant with a barely present lascivious tinge, but the way she responded immediately after Yonghan shut his mouth told him that she was waiting for an open spot in the conversation to smoothly slide in.

Before Yonghan could even process the following moments, Hyeri had reached across the table, stroking Yonghan's hair, her elegant fingers curling around a lock that brushed the high point of his browbone. Yonghan's hand instinctively slapped her arm away as if he were killing an insignificant fly (well, hypothetically -- Yonghan didn't like to kill bugs). The fan club members who were sparsely spread around the table immediately hushed to a resounding silence, making the smack of Yonghan's unforgiving hand on Hyeri's thin, pale wrist all the more evident.

As the air began to fill with the scent of pure disdain, Yonghan's mind immediately mapped out the events that could happen next. He didn't like to treat girls any differently than he treated guys; when someone got on his nerves, Yonghan didn't have time to care about something as insignificant as gender. But girls were a vicious species, especially those at the top of the pyramid. They rarely lashed out like Yonghan did, but would instead lie in wait, exacting their perfect concoction of revenge. Yonghan wasn't scared of that -- if anything, it just made him feel inferior to not understand the scheming minds some of the popular girls possessed. But something he learned over his many years of getting into conflict was that there were guys who were just as dumb as some girls were cunning. Yonghan had to admire some of the girls he had encountered in the past -- the same charms that landed them such a high position on the social ladder also landed them a bunch of dumbass, beefy guys who would try to beat Yonghan up. And of course, Yonghan being Yonghan would rise to the challenge full-heartedly. It was too early for Yonghan to fuck things up again -- this time, he wanted to try and have as much self-restraint as possible.

So as much as it pained him to say it, Yonghan had to bite his tongue and grind his jaw in an attempt to apologize. "Look, I'm sorry." The right words slipped out of Yonghan's mouth, but he couldn't muster the self-control to hold back the roughness and underlying dry insincerity of his tone. He could tell from the unimpressed looks sent his way that his apology didn't get off to a good start, but that only made Yonghan angrier. "But you can't just touch me randomly. Damn, just keep your fucking hands to yourself."

The last few words were mumbled under his breath, but it seemed like girls' ears were as sharp as a fucking bat's. "You know what," the girl who was sitting next to Hyeri raised her voice. "You really are as big of a dick as the rumors say! Hyeri doesn't need you."

Yonghan seethed. "Look, calm the fuck down, okay? I'm in my right to tell her not to fucking touch me."

The rising volume of their voices seemed to spread beyond their immediate vicinity of volleyball players and fan club members. From the shared looks of tension on the girl and Yonghan's, it seemed like the situation would only escalate if no one intervened.

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

code by valen t.

 

[pasta]

Their attempts to keep Hyeri out of the conversation failed pretty quickly. Before Minwoo could even open his mouth to reply to Yonghan, she jumped in. Damn. His eyes fell back to his tray of food, and he elided a barely audible sound of annoyance. The manager took a few moments away from the conversation to take a couple bites of food. His gaze trailed around the room as he chewed, hardly paying attention to much around him.

“Why does it take you like 20 seconds to chew a single bite?”

Minwoo swallowed, eyes landing on his best friend before grinning and shaking his head. “Are you trying to hurt my fe--” He stopped, mouth closing and face settling into a perplexed expression as his head snapped towards Yonghan and Hyeri. Did he slap her? He was expecting her to maybe recoil and everyone to move on, but he was wrong, unfortunately. At least Yonghan apologized, right, even if it felt a little disingenuous and bitter? He wasn’t sure; no one at the table seemed too impressed, and the sorry didn’t do anything to cool the boiling situation. And Yonghan’s followup, Minwoo couldn’t believe it.

He watched the situation unfold and heighten into something more than a little misunderstanding. If it went on any longer, it would only get worse. For a brief moment, he shut his eyes and let out a stressed breath of air; it seemed it would have to be him to attempt and alleviate the dispute. No one else was speaking out, just watching in utter disbelief -- probably too fearful to calm the raging storm. He leaned forward and turned to get a view of both the arguers.

“You’re both blowing it out of proportion,” he started, voice and eyes poised as he looked between them. “And, he’s angry because she breached his comfort zone, and he’s allowed to be pissed. Hyeri shouldn’t be touching random people like that, and Yonghan shouldn’t have hit her hand. Simple, and you’re carrying it out like he insulted her.” He paused. “‘Hyeri doesn’t need you,’” He quoted mockingly with an eye roll. “Hell, she does. She doesn’t even know him. Just let it go and leave him alone.”

Was he annoyed? Perhaps. It was so faint, but with a well-honed eye, you could recognize it was there. The irritation was seeping through his voice like liquid on fabric, gradual and steady. Generally, he tried to stay relaxed and level-minded, sometimes even passive, to combat the animosity between the fighters. In some situations with so much barking and profanity, he could feel his own stress levels rise and thus tick him off. But, even in those moments, he worked hard to mask it.

Minwoo wasn’t sure whether they could continue their lunch peacefully after what had happened, especially when even his attempt at playing mediator had an undertow of venom. Maybe they could ditch the lunch table and hang out in the bathroom? If they went into the lav farthest from the cafeteria, it would most likely be empty; a tranquil place.

“Yonghan,” he addressed, voice tender and low enough for only Yonghan to hear. “You wanna go to the bathroom or something?”

reveriee

Seo Minwoo

the volleyball team's manager

 

[reveriee]

"You’re both blowing it out of proportion."

Yonghan leaned back, a short, frustrated breath escaping his lips as Minwoo diffused the situation. He kept his eyes pinned to his lunch tray in an attempt to avoid giving anyone around the table a scathing glare, but even as Minwoo spoke, he could feel a few lingering, contemptuous gazes pinned to his form.

Yonghan was simultaneously relieved and annoyed that Minwoo stepped in; one side of him -- the more aggressive, reckless side of him, the side of him that got a kick out of action and conflict -- wanted to continue butting heads with Hyeri's friend. That side of Yonghan didn't want to back down or leave things unfinished. The other side of him, however -- the more sensitive side, the side that cared for his mother and the side that was tinged with a little bit of rationality -- that side was telling Yonghan to be grateful for Minwoo's intervention, that stepping down would be better for the long term. Yonghan didn't like that side of him most of the time -- it was the party pooper, the too-controlling parent to his generally spontaneous persona, but he supposed that it was a necessary evil.

Yonghan's feelings were typically contradictory to the fullest extent, and he hated it.

"Yonghan." The redhead raised his head when he heard Minwoo's voice sound out the consonants and vowels of his name, his tone low enough to stay confined between the two, but not quite enough to be a whisper. Yonghan turned his head, focusing his gaze on the other teen. "You wanna go to the bathroom or something?"

Yonghan couldn't help his brow from furrowing. The bathroom? Why did Minwoo want to take him to the bathroom? Yonghan wracked his brain for any possible reason, but he pulled a blank on every count. When he was younger, however, he did recall Seongja and her female friends constantly retreating to the girls' restrooms, giggling with their phones and makeup bags in hand. Yonghan had assumed that they just needed to constantly touch up their makeup or something of the like -- he doubted anyone needed to relieve themselves that often. And who would go to the bathroom to hang out? Yonghan knew that girls' restrooms didn't have urinals, so they didn't have to stand around with people relieving themselves out in the open, but still -- it didn't seem like the most desirable place to be.

Nonetheless, while Yonghan couldn't for the life of him understand why Minwoo wanted them to go to the bathroom, of all places, the offer to leave was so very tempting. So he nodded brusquely, tacking on a quiet, "sure," before swinging his leg over the bench, clearing his tray of what little food was left and dropping the silverware off to be washed. Yonghan left the cafeteria, lingering just outside the doorway so he couldn't be seen by the others in the canteen. Once Minwoo caught up, Yonghan followed him, trailing about a half a step behind the other teen.

Yonghan, despite having already familiarized himself with all the ways he could get up to the rooftops of the school buildings, and having already located a select few isolated areas between the nooks and crannies of the campus, admittedly didn't know where most of the bathrooms were. He knew a lot of people slacked off in class by lingering in the restrooms, but why would Yonghan confine himself to a room full of toilets and urinals when he could go up to the roof? He wouldn't -- Yonghan's logic was infallible.

"Why did you do that?" Yonghan spoke up finally. His words were more of a mutter, and his tone was devoid of emotion, but internally, he was just confused. Did Minwoo offer him an out? And why a bathroom? I could show him a way better place to go, the redhead thought determinedly.

pasta

ROH YONGHAN

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

© pasta​

 

[pasta]

Yonghan agreed, what a relief. “Great,” he replied as his demeanor became less irritated and turned calmer. The question of what they would even do once they got to the restroom stooped over his head for a few seconds, but the inquiry ultimately got buried by several other thoughts. Minwoo watched as the new student got up from the table before gazing back to his teammates. He could already tell what they were thinking, and they didn’t even have to announce it; they weren’t too accepting of the new team member, and their angry casts told it.

“Is he seriously going to be on our team, hyung?” Yesung complained while a few others hummed in agreement. “I swear, he’ll probably start something every practice.” Start? He doubted Yonghan would ignite anything. “Look how he acted out with poor Hyeri.”

“I really don’t think he goes around picking fights,” Minwoo pointed out as he rose from his seat. “I feel like you’re more likely to pull that. I mean, I guess he acted a little out of pocket, but...” he lingered on the observation for a second or two. “But, everyone responds differently to things.” A vast arctic silence fell among the table. His team stared at him like he had eight eyes, and it was blisteringly apparent they didn’t like his take on the situation. It stung like a deep, penetrating wound, the way they all disagreed with him and looked at him like that.

But, at least Jaeho agreed.

“Where are you off to?” the captain asked.

“Piss,” Minwoo shrugged.

Sighing, he deserted the lunch table and dropped off his utensils and tray in their respected locations before catching up to Yonghan. He greeted his new friend with a grin and began directing the way to the lavatory. The halls were still and abandoned, and for a moment, both of them were; it was a stark contrast from the cafeteria.

Irregularly, he would glance back and take in the other’s appearance; he looked like he could be an idol, especially with the vibrant hair color -- or maybe an anime protagonist. Minwoo toyed with the idea of letting him know (no homo), but the plan withered away when Yonghan spoke, asking him why he did what he did.

Was an explanation necessary? Minwoo’s features rose to a small smile, and he shrugged as he looked ahead. “I don’t know… Maybe it’s because you guys were getting super annoying,” he half-joked as he ran a hand through his hair. “Besides, the table got awkward. I’d rather get away from that, and I figured you would too,” he explained with a brief glance back. “You have to watch how you act, particularly around girls. You’ll do something you regret one day… But who am I to tell you what to do?” He eventually fell silent, listening as their footsteps echoed in the halls.

“You know, you have an idol face,” he brought up, diverting the subject entirely. “Like you could really be one.”

reveriee

Seo Minwoo

the volleyball team's manager

 

[reveriee]

"You have to watch how you act, particularly around girls. You’ll do something you regret one day . . . but who am I to tell you what to do?"

Yonghan bit the inside of his cheek, clearly unhappy with what Minwoo had to say. What's so special about girls? he groused to himself. Sure, in his experience, girls were more cunning than guys overall, but beyond that, there was just some taboo that said, "don't treat girls like you would guys." If a guy was instigating something with a girl, then Yonghan would understand, but girls always seemed to be off-limits, no matter what shit they did. A girl could probably screw up Yonghan's life, and half the student body would descend on him for yelling at her to fuck off. Was it just courtesy -- to "be polite" to girls? Or were guys trying to impress them in some weird, roundabout way? Why do they have to treat them all like porcelain -- most of them can handle themselves just fine. Yonghan thought the best mindset was to treat girls like he treated everyone else.

When Yonghan was younger (and maybe just nicer to everyone overall), he never really had to think about such things. But growing up made him realize that he didn't fit into the social sphere as well as he thought he did.

Nonetheless, Yonghan merely nodded in response; as much as he disliked being told off, Minwoo was nice enough . . . and maybe he had a point. But who knew?

Yonghan's steps stuttered like a failing heartbeat as the next words spilled out of Minwoo's mouth, his head snapping so he could stare at Minwoo, bug-eyed, before jerking back and focusing on the shiny floor in front of his feet. The teen's cheeks flushed a rosy red, immediately causing a deep pool of shame to wrack his insides and unsettle his mind. Why was he blushing like an anime girl? He was a far cry from the shy, demure cartoon drawing that didn't want to cause trouble. Why did his feet stumble over each other briefly, as if he was actually clumsy? Yonghan wasn't uncoordinated -- he probably would've already fallen off a building if he was -- but for a flickering second of time, it was like he could barely walk.

Did he just call me pretty? Yonghan thought, his mouth numb and his mind buffering. The thought caused a second torrent of heat to rush up to his face, painting the high points of his cheeks with splotches of cherry pink. Minwoo said he had an idol face, and idols were pretty even (especially) the guys -- Yonghan could attest to that.

I'm just surprised he complimented me, Yonghan assured himself, nodding his head slightly. Girls exchanged compliments with each other like they were fleeting thoughts, so frequent that it was a normality. Yonghan knew what girls' Instagram posts looked like -- the comment sections were flooded with compliments and glittering hearts. It wasn't like that for guys -- girls didn't compliment them unless they were flirting, and guys didn't compliment each other because guys didn't do that and it'd be weird gay if they did. That's why I'm so surprised, Yonghan told himself. Because, it's just, you know, a weird thing to do. It doesn't mean anything.

"Thanks," he said finally, the word abrupt and unsure. Who could blame him -- Yonghan didn't know how to respond to something so unusual. When had he ever been complimented on his looks by a peer? Never. He was only familiar with aunties pinching his cheeks as a kid, and the occasional comment from girls like Hyeri. But guys? Unfamiliar territory.

I should probably compliment him back, Yonghan realized. That's the nice thing to do.

"You have a . . . nice face too," Yonghan gestured vaguely in Minwoo's direction, his words haltingly paced. He cringed at himself. What was he supposed to say? Maybe Yonghan should've taken a class on how to come up with compliments like Minwoo's, because the other teen clearly had something he didn't.

Try out a personality compliment -- maybe that's easier.

"And you're nice," Yonghan added on, his words and tone more bland than awkward.

Fuck. Why is this so hard?? Didn't I used to be nice and likeable? Yonghan couldn't recall.

To Yonghan at least, it felt like his attempt at fixing things only made the conversation nosedive even farther. He pursed his lips, making sure that his gaze avoided Minwoo's form entirely as he tried to figure out a way to direct the conversation away from . . . whatever he just did.

"Let's go up to the roof," Yonghan said suddenly, the stiffness in his shoulders melting away as he approached something he was familiar with. "It's better than the bathroom." Maybe we can even ditch.

Yonghan glanced at Minwoo out of the corner of his eye, waiting for an answer. Minwoo did seem like a goody-two-shoes -- something that Yonghan soundly was not. The redhead couldn't predict how Minwoo would respond, but it wasn't like he was going to force the other teen up to the roof if he was opposed. It'd be his loss.

pasta

ROH YONGHAN

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

© pasta​

 

[pasta]

Minwoo smiled, eyes dazzling with slight amusement as he listened to the compliment reigning from Yonghan. It was an awkward string of words, but the man found it never more so sweet and flattering; besides, it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it? “I like to think I’m nice too,” he replied simply, eyes briefly casting onto the other male. He was kind by nature, or perhaps he was just passive when it came to social interactions concerning matters other than volleyball; nevertheless, he gained the reputation of being a pleasant upperclassman.

The door to the roof blued into view as the pairs' steps slowed into nothing; a matcha green door in the drafty corner that clearly declared, in bold, white letters, for authorized persons only.

Up to the roof. He pondered for a few moments, and his eyes shifted right as he made contact with the left hemisphere of his brain, electing a verbal thought process inside his head. The teenager figured they could go up to the roof, but that would risk getting caught. He didn’t want that. He was a good student in the eyes of the school staff, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk losing that image. However, he didn’t want to be a prune, and he was trying to befriend the porcupine otherwise known as Yonghan; in other words, he was incapable of saying no. Plus, the lavatory probably wasn’t the best place to hang out, especially if there were plans to skip a class.

Not that the male wanted to skip...

He visualized it as his gaze switched to the left; crisp, chilly air with a warm sun wrapping its bright arms around them -- it would be quite the liberating experience. For all his years in high school, he had to do something rebellious at least once before he was thrust into adulthood, and a mind-numbing 9-5. Have some type of quirky school story for christ-sake. His brother, while he wasn’t the best student, always had such engaging and exciting stories; it almost made Minwoo envious and craving even a sliver of excitement his brother must have felt. Though they didn’t get along, the team manager always had lingering respect for his elder sibling.

Minwoo’s brother had all tons of tales ranging from getting caught smoking in the bathroom to pranking a middle school teacher and being chased around the school by staff. He used to tell them when the pair got along on rare occasions. Jaeho chalked it up to Minseok embellishing the stories and using it as an attempt to gain Minwoo’s jealousy. If that was the case, the elder brother was somewhat successful.

Finally, his eyes snapped to Yonghan before hesitantly nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed, scratching his temple with his pointer finger.

“It’s kind of cold out, isn’t it, no?” He asked while zipping up his track jacket just to be sure he would be getting the most use out of it while on the roof. “But maybe the sun will keep it warm enough, right?” He had always found the warmth from the sun during some of Korea’s colder days as the perfect place to stand while outside; something about the way it contrasted with the crisp wind made it serene.

What if someone saw them? The hallways had cameras, didn’t they? His gaze searched around the doorway for one. But, luckily for them, the dark corner where the door stood was missing a camera, or at least an obvious one.

“How do we know we won’t get caught or something? I mean, that’s kind of how Jaeho and I scouted you,” he pointed out. He knew there was no answer for that; if they were caught or not, it was solely based on luck -- luck that no one looked up. “I mean, I’ll still go just asking,” he added.

reveriee

Seo Minwoo

the volleyball team's manager

 

[reveriee]

Yonghan couldn't stop himself from gaping when he heard Minwoo's response.

Shit, I didn't expect him to say yes,

he thought to himself, feeling vaguely awed.

"It’s kind of cold out, isn’t it, no?"

Yonghan opened the door without pause, careless of how the hinges groaned. It was, to no one's surprise, also matcha green, with a blaring bright white warning of Authorized Persons Only that Yonghan opted to ignore.

What kind of school takes such a weird color so far,

he mused.

They couldn't even make the doors normal, could they?

"I never really notice,"

he replied finally, jogging up the small staircase to the final door. The place was cramped and dim, with sooty gray smudges in the corners and crannies of the walls.

"It doesn't matter what the weather is like -- being high up is always good."

Yonghan stood at the top of the staircase, watching Minwoo look around and waiting for the other teen to start moving. The redhead tapped his foot in impatience, but tried not to verbalize it, given how much the older teen had entertained Yonghan in the short time they knew each other for.

"How do we know we won’t get caught or something? I mean, that’s kind of how Jaeho and I scouted you." Minwoo paused, before adding. "I mean, I’ll still go, just asking."

Yonghan couldn't help but snort as he swung the final door open, the blustery wind blowing a few loose strands of his hair into his face. As if he cared about whatever stupid teacher or janitor was gonna yell at him -- if they ever found him, that was. It was one thing for someone like Minwoo to be a goody-two-shoes, but did he really have to ruin something like hanging out on the roof to ditch class with the prospect of getting caught?

He's a nice guy,

Yonghan admitted to himself,

but he could do with some loosening up.

"You don't know,"

he said pointedly, walking to the roof's edge and dangling his converse-clad feet over it. Yonghan reached into his uniform pocket, fumbling around before finding a flattened piece of grape hi-chew. He unwrapped it, popping it into his mouth and shoving the empty wrapper back into his pocket.

"That's what half the fun is."

Granted, one side of Yonghan despised being interrupted. The roof was unlike anywhere else, offering a sense of serene solitude that rowdy classrooms and busy streets couldn't afford. It was a place where he could sit and think of nothing but the sensations of his surroundings -- the meandering wind flowing through the strands of his hair, the hot sun pressing against his bare skin. Sometimes, a murder of crows would caw over and over again in the distance, while a gaggle of elementary-age schoolchildren giggled and shouted in the streets below. Depending on where he was, Yonghan could sometimes hear the faint melodies of the latest trending songs, or the barely audible conversations of insignificant passers-by. On the roof, Yonghan could close his eyes, and listen to the world fade into a manageable, muffled din.

But there was also that other, undeniable side of him that felt a rush simply from thinking of driving some poor authority figure up the wall, and Yonghan was no ascetic.

The redhead glanced at Minwoo for a moment, wind blowing his hair out of his face, before turning back to the blue-gray horizon.

"Is your brother always such a dick?"

pasta

roh yonghan

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

© pasta​

 

[pasta]

Fun? Yonghan viewed the possibility of getting caught as fun? It astounded Minwoo and puzzled him a bit too. “Fun,” he repeated with a slight shake of the head. “We both have very different views of fun then.” His stomach sunk and settled, creating a dull ache while he envisioned a scenario of getting caught. How could someone find that thrilling? The thought alone was nauseating.

The view was beautiful though he could at least admit that; crisp wind, colorful mosaic leaves drifting from aching, old trees, the chatter of distant pedestrians, it was refreshing. The rotten rain from the previous night hardly affected the current weather besides a few puddles of sopping leaves, and the dank smell of wet pavement. He leaned against the ledge and peered down at the building’s blue shadow cast below.

Minwoo fell silent as the subject of his older brother came up. He glanced over at Yonghan tentatively, unsure of how to answer the question. He was feeling tongue-tied and entirely at sea while his face was heating, and he looked abashed. It’s not like he hadn’t known why his brother was the way he was; Minseok had been dropping subtle hints throughout the younger's adolescence, so it wasn’t too difficult to put the pieces together. But, the captain couldn’t admit the reason behind the family conflict -- it would be shameful and would antagonize his brother.

After a long moment of silence, he finally conjured up an explanation. “That’s just how siblings are,” he answered with a tired shrug, eyes focused on the dewy grass below. It was a weak defense, but he assumed Yonghan didn’t have a sibling, so he wouldn’t question it. “There’s always a bit of rivalry there, nothing serious.” Rivalry, it was almost laughable the way he labeled his brother’s blatant abuse as something so innocent and simple. His brother’s envy was complex and couldn’t be chalked up to a stupid competition. But, what else was Minwoo to do?

Fiddling with change and gum wrappers in the pocket of his jacket, he thought of his brother. The elder had a look of privilege gone wrong like he would couch hop and waste a good portion of their parents' money on anything and everything. And, Minseok did that.

Minwoo loathed talking about his brother; he didn’t even like to vent about him or bring him up at all. It was humiliating, and it was the type of thought he’d like to forget. The brisk breeze stirred, blowing his curtain of bangs back as he tried to empty his brain of his brother, so he could properly enjoy the scenery. But, it was to no avail, and he was plagued with horrid memories.


reveriee

Seo Minwoo

the volleyball team's manager

 

[reveriee]

"That’s just how siblings are," Minwoo answered in that placid way he seemed to answer everything with. Yonghan rolled his eyes a little, not believing it in the slightest. It's not like he was an only child -- he would know. "There’s always a bit of rivalry there, nothing serious."

Yonghan scoffed, kicking the edge of the roof with the heel of his shoe.

"Sibling rivalry, my ass,"

he scowled.

"That's not a sibling rivalry -- I had one of them, I would know."

The words were bittersweet, and perhaps if Yonghan weren't so aggravated-sounding all the time, Minwoo would be able to distinguish the sadness. Maybe he could regardless -- Yonghan was never good at masking his emotions anyway.

The redhead felt a strange sort of anger at Minwoo's response. Sibling rivalry? Yonghan had seen a number of siblings over the years, and though very few of them were as good as Seongja (truly, Yonghan though none of them were, but he was a little biased), very, very few of them were as shitty as Minseok. How could Minwoo just sit there and accept it? How could he let his shitstain of an older brother just walk all over him? Yonghan really didn't understand it, and the more he contemplated it, the more aggravated and impassioned he felt. He cracked his knuckles. Minwoo didn't deserve a brother like that. And Yonghan couldn't just sit there, having born with a sister like Seongja, and just keep quiet and watch as Minwoo accepts having been born with a brother like Minseok.

"You don't have to take that shit,"

Yonghan insisted roughly.

"And fuck, I know it's complicated when you live with the fucker, but you can't just blame it all on rivalry and imply that he's a normal brother."

Yonghan looked Minwoo in the eye, uncaring that he was insulting the other student's family member. He raised his voice emphatically.

"He's a dick, he's a bully, and he's wrong! Don't give him excuses just 'cause you have the same blood or whatever -- shit is shit, doesn't matter who it came from. Don't be that nice, Minwoo -- he doesn't deserve that."

Yonghan scowled, kicking a stray pebble down to the pathways below. If he strained his ears, he could hear it clatter against the sideway and into the sprouting grass. He could kick a stone into Minseok's head right about now; if there was anything Yonghan hated more than shitty people, it was shitty people getting away with it.

pasta

roh yonghan

shadows of the past keep on chasing me

© pasta​