JIAH POV
"You asked me yesterday," I say, forcing my voice to sound steady. "About the amusement park." I take a breath that feels way too loud in my own ears. "I think I'm ready for it."
There. Said it. No running now.
His smile shifts. Not disappears. Just… changes. Like someone turned the dimmer down a notch. Softer. Hesitant. Careful in that way that always makes my stomach do something stupid.
"Oh," he says. Then, "About that…"
My body reacts before my brain does. My chest tightens. My fingers curl behind my back. Something sinks, slow and heavy, like an elevator cutting its cables.
"My friend saw the tickets," he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. He does that when he's uncomfortable. I've memorized that. Unfortunately. "And he really wanted to go with me. I didn't think it would be a big deal but…" A small laugh. Awkward. Apologetic. "I'm really sorry."
"It's okay," I say, and the words come out automatically, like muscle memory. Like I've trained for this exact moment my whole life.
I don't wait for him to respond. I turn.
I walk. Slowly. Back toward my class. Head down. Shoulders heavy. Like someone quietly stacked bricks on my back while I wasn't looking.
The hallway is bright. Too bright. Loud. Too normal. Everyone's moving like nothing just happened, like my chest didn't just cave in a little.
My smile slips the second he's out of sight.
The spark that's been buzzing in me since yesterday—since the stupid question, since the hope I told myself not to have—just dies. No explosion. No drama. Just quiet. Gone. Like someone flipped a switch and forgot to warn me.
Did I just get rejected again?
I keep walking. My head stays low because if I lift it, I might actually feel this. My throat burns. There's something stuck there. Not a sob. Not words. Just pressure. Like my body is holding everything hostage.
I told myself I wasn't expecting anything. I literally said that out loud. Multiple times. So why does it hurt like this?
He didn't even say he doesn't like me. He didn't say no. He said plans changed. That's it. So why does my chest feel like it's collapsing anyway? Why does it feel like I lost something I never even had?
I really wanted to go with him.
That's the stupid part. The quiet part. The one I don't want to admit. I wanted the lights and the noise and the normalcy of standing next to him without confessing or hoping or counting the ways this could go wrong.
My eyes start burning before I can stop it. I blink hard. Once. Twice. Nope. They don't care. Tears pool anyway, traitorous and embarrassing.
God, I feel pathetic.
Then
My shoulder bumps into someone's arm.
"Oh—sorry," I mumble automatically, barely audible, still staring at the floor.
Then I look up.
Enhyeok.
Of course it's him.
He's standing there, frozen mid-step, eyes already on my face. Not scanning. Not dismissive. Just… focused. Like he's actually seeing something. Something I didn't authorize.
My stomach twists. My eyes sting harder. Great. Awesome. Love this for me.
He doesn't say anything. Doesn't ask if I'm okay. Doesn't joke. He just looks at me, gaze steady, unreadable, like he's trying to understand something I don't even understand myself.
I hate that he sees me like this.
I look away first. Of course I do.
"Sorry," I say again, quieter, already stepping around him. My voice cracks and I pretend it didn't.
I keep walking. Faster now. Head down. Heart hurting. Embarrassment boiling hot under my skin.
I don't look back.
I don't want to know if he's still watching.
I just want to get to my seat, put my head down, and breathe without feeling like everything inside me is breaking for reasons I'm not allowed to complain about.
__________________
ENHYEOK POV
"Your shot form's getting sloppy," Taeyoung says, spinning the basketball on his finger like he's auditioning for attention. "You're leaning too much on your right."
"I'm not," I reply, adjusting the strap of my bag. "You're just loud."
He scoffs. "Wow. Rude. I'm literally trying to help you not embarrass the team."
We're walking down the hallway, traffic thick, noise bouncing off lockers and tiled floors. The usual chaos. I tune most of it out. My brain's still on practice schedules and drills and the fact that Coach Lee is definitely going to make us run suicides tomorrow for breathing wrong.
Then I see her.
Seo jiah
She's standing across the hall, facing Baek Jiho.
I slow without meaning to.
Taeyoung keeps talking. Something about weekend scrimmages. I stop hearing him halfway through the sentence.
Jiah's smiling.
Not her loud one. Not her sarcastic one. The softer version she doesn't hand out to just anyone. The one she always gives Jiho like he's earned it just by existing.
Jiho says something. Scratches the back of his neck.
Her smile… slips.
It's subtle. Blink-and-you-miss-it subtle. But I don't miss it. Her shoulders tense. Her fingers curl behind her back. She nods too fast. Says something I can't hear.
I get it immediately.
Date cancelled.
I exhale through my nose, annoyed in a way that doesn't even make sense. Of course. Of course it did. That guy couldn't commit to a pencil, let alone plans.
She turns away from him and starts walking.
Head down.
Too fast.
Taeyoung finally notices I'm not beside him anymore. "Bro?"
"I'll be back," I say, already stepping away.
"Where—"
I don't answer.
I walk toward her, cutting through the crowd. I'm not rushing. I'm not chasing. Just… moving. And then—
She bumps into me.
Her shoulder hits my arm, light but enough to make her flinch like she ran into a wall.
"Oh—sorry," she mumbles, not looking up.
Then she does.
Fuck.
Her eyes are glassy. Red around the edges. Tears sitting right there, unshed, like they're waiting for permission.
My steps stop completely.
Why the hell is she crying?
My jaw tightens. This is stupid. It's not my problem. Jiho cancels, she gets hurt, life goes on. None of this has anything to do with me.
She blinks. Sees me properly.
Embarrassment hits her face immediately. Like she got caught doing something illegal.
"Sorry," she says again, quieter. Voice rough. Then she ducks around me before I can say anything and keeps walking.
Head down again.
Shoulders tight.
Gone.
I stand there for half a second longer than necessary.
I shouldn't have come over.
Now I've seen it. Now it's lodged in my brain like something irritating I can't shake off. Her stupid watery eyes. The way she looked like she hated being seen like that.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly.
Get a grip.
I glance down the hallway.
Jiho's at the other end, laughing with his friends like nothing happened. Easy. Relaxed. Shirt half-untucked. Hands in his pockets.
And then I remember.
Ara.
The amusement park. The tickets.
That bastard didn't cancel. He just replaced.
Something cold settles in my chest. Not anger. Not jealousy. Just disgust. The kind you get when you realize someone's worse than you thought.
I should've stayed with Taeyoung.
Instead, I start walking.
My shoulders loosen. My pace evens out. I don't look rushed. I don't look angry. I look calm. Controlled.
Jiho doesn't see me until it's too late.
My shoulder slams into his.
Hard.
He stumbles back, losing his balance, hitting the lockers before dropping to the floor with a loud thud.
Gasps ripple through the hallway.
I don't stop walking.
"Hey! Enhyeok!" Jiho yells.
I stop.
Slowly.
Turn around.
"Yes?" My voice is flat. Polite, even.
He scrambles to his feet, face flushed. "Apologize, you fucker."
"For what?" I ask.
"What's wrong with you?" he snaps. "You just bumped into me!"
"Did I?" I tilt my head slightly. "I didn't notice."
He steps forward. "What the hell—don't you have eyes?"
"I can't see red flags," I say calmly. "I'm colour blind, dude."
His face twists. He looks like he's about to swing.
Minseok and Taeyoung rush in immediately, grabbing his arms. "Relax, dude," Taeyoung says quickly. "Not worth it."
Jiho yanks free, shoots me a look full of pure hate, then flips me off. "Whatever."
He storms off toward his classroom, smoothing his shirt like dignity is something you can just fix with fabric.
I watch his back disappear.
My mouth curves slightly.
Not a smile.
Just satisfaction.
Then I turn and walk away, hands in my pockets, expression blank—like none of it mattered at all.
"Hey—what the hell was that?"
Minseok catches up first, breath a little uneven, eyes sharp like he's actually worried instead of just nosy. Taeyoung's right behind him, brows pulled together, basketball tucked under his arm like a shield.
I don't slow down. My hands stay in my pockets. My shoulders feel loose. Too loose. Like whatever snapped already burned out.
"What?" I say.
"You just shoulder-checked Jiho," Taeyoung says. "In the middle of the hallway. People were staring."
"So?"
Minseok stops walking and forces himself in front of me. I almost run into him this time. He squints at my face. "Okay, no. Don't do that. You've been weird lately."
"Weird how."
"This," he says, gesturing vaguely at my entire existence. "This silent violent thing. Yesterday you asked me to go to the arcade. With everyone. Even Areum."
I remember that. Barely. It felt like a different day.
"And then," Minseok continues, "after school, you suddenly drag us to karaoke instead. No explanation. Like you were trying to be somewhere."
Taeyoung's eyes flicker. He tilts his head. "Were you?"
I stop walking.
The hallway noise rushes back in—voices, lockers, footsteps—but it all sounds distant, like it's happening underwater.
"Were you planning to see someone?" Taeyoung asks slowly. "Is that why you cancelled the arcade plan?"
I stare at the wall over his shoulder. The paint's chipped near the corner. Someone carved their initials into it years ago. I don't recognize them.
My jaw tightens.
Seo Jiah flashes in my head without permission. Not her smile. Not her mouth. Her eyes. Wet. Furious at herself for being wet. The way she looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
I shut it down immediately.
No.
That's not what this is.
That's not anything.
I'm not about to explain myself. I'm not about to let them land on something stupid and irreversible like feelings. That word alone makes my skin crawl. It's messy. Loud. Inaccurate.
I didn't cancel the arcade because of her.
I changed plans because Bora opened her mouth. Because they said karaoke. Because being in the same room as her accidentally was easier than making it obvious I avoided it.
Control. That's all.
But I can't say that.
Because that still sounds like caring.
And I don't.
Minseok's still watching me, waiting. Taeyoung too. Curious now. Alert. Like they've caught the edge of something sharp.
If I say no, they'll keep pushing.
If I hesitate, they'll guess.
So I don't hesitate.
I look at them. Straight. Blank. Calm.
"Yes," I say. My voice doesn't change. "I was."