08 (1/1)

Lights, Camera, Action!Be Bold! Be Aggressive!   Chanyeol“SUNBAE...?”“Um—huh? I mean, yeah. Yeah,” I try to correct my speech. “That idea sounds great, Mina. I’ll be sure to bring it up with Principal Kang tomorrow.”She laughs. “Yes, but... did you... Did you hear what I just said? After that?”I stand up, gathering my belongings all together. It’s a Friday evening... and another long week has come and gone. Before responding to the question at hand, I rub my hands over my face. Get your shit together.I can’t help it.And part of me still hasn’t found out the reason why—why I can’t shake this unfamiliar, unsettling feeling off.I’m concerned? Apprehensive? Untrusting? I’m protective and...I’m realizing I don’t actually have an accurate word to truly describe this feeling.No. This is normal, isn’t it? Friends can have their horrible gut-feelings about things, too and...It’s been weeks since the party—and although I haven’t explicitly done anything to truly voice it out—because let’s be real: I have absolutely no right to—I still can’t help but feel... strange... about the whole set-up Yoojung has with Sehun.Yes, I feel unsettled and strange, but I choose not to do anything about it. I hold back, no matter how distressing and annoying this feeling really is, because I simply have no right to tell my friends what to do—or who they should and should not see. Plain and simple.So, let me just quickly set the scene right now: it’s Friday night. I’m at the library. They’re at the library right now too. And... admittedly, yes, I’ve been distracted, to say the least—just unconsciously keeping a keen eye on their table every now and again.But that’s because that’s all I can do.“Sorry... I’ve been really out of it these days,” I finally say with what I hope sounds to be convincingly apologetic enough to the girl who has suddenly approached me, although I’m still feeling a tad bit disoriented. “Could you repeat it again?” I force myself to try and snap out of it, quickly lifting my wrist up to read the face of my watch. 9:43 P.M.Again, I’m not doing this intentionally—but right after that, rather than facing the person I’m currently speaking with—my gaze automatically strays right back to the far-off table located near the perimeters of the room instead.It seems like Sehun is finally leaving... And now, Yoojung’s seated all alone.It’s fucked up—even I secretly know that it’s a fucked up way to think—but something as minuscule as seeing that is already somehow setting me off. Why is he leaving her all alone...? Even if you aren’t friends—even if my intuition is fully correct and all you see her as is a mere fucking pump and dump—You can’t just fucking leave a girl all by herself at night.I shake my head. Shit. Why am I getting so heated?I’m about to grab all my things. My feet are already set, determined to walk over to Yoojung’s table to accompany her home—but that’s when Mina’s voice reproaches me again. Suddenly, I remember who I am with, where I am, and what I am doing.“Sunbae...” She holds onto the ends of my sleeves. Trying to hide her face, she looks a little bashful; a little flustered and shy.Right. So. Okay. The courteous thing to do right now, obviously, is to stop and listen. So I do exactly that.“Ah—sorry, sorry, sorry!” I beam apologetically. “What did you want to—”“I said, ‘I like you’...”Ah. A confession.Is it an asshole thing to say that this is not something new to me? Is it an asshole thing to say that—with how many times it’s been said and done now—I just... don’t feel anything at all? Completely desensitized. Jaded. Completely uninspired and unaffected.Yes. Although it’s the brutal truth, it still, very much so, is the very essence of an asshole-ish way of thinking.So, I stop. I plaster on a smile—not too big and not too small—one leaning towards just the right amount of remorse, gratitude, and, I really appreciate the sentiment and I know just how much courage it probably took you just to say those words to me, but unfortunately, I am not in the place to currently accept your feelings...I’m about to start: “I’m sorry but—”But you know what happens?This girl is fucking persistent. I don’t know if I should applaud the originality or be baffled by it instead.“No, it’s okay. I don’t need to hear it,” she says in a quaking voice, peering up with tearful eyes. I almost feel bad—but then I don’t, because, How the fuck can you possibly say you like me when you don’t even know a thing about me?Still. Do the courteous thing, my mind says. Be nice.I hold her back before she can run away, crying, all heartbroken.And God is just great, isn’t he? The girl doesn’t hesitate once to fall back—and again, it’s that persistence—she’s got some fucking guts... Because she hugs me, as if this is what I’d intended for all along. She hugs me, sobbing into my chest—making a whole dramatic scene inside a school library as if we were actually close. Making a whole dramatic scene: perfectly emulating that of a primetime TV drama break-up episode. As if she has the fucking right.Still, Be nice, my mind reprimands me once more. Be understanding.I tilt her chin up, an innocently-intended gesture. Looking into her eyes with a practiced, forced look of sincerity, I start my speech again. “I’m sorry—”But God is just fucking great, isn’t he?In the very same moment I proceed to do all this, Yoojung’s walking by. At first she doesn’t quite seem to notice what’s going on. When her eyes finally travel upward, the entire thing just crushes me completely—and I don’t even know why.We lock eyes for a moment and the overjoyed, familiar, affectionate expression on her face as she registers that it’s me—her good old friend Chanyeol—suddenly dims when this drama-like scene finally prevails. The curve of her lips regresses within a quick span of a millisecond, regarding me with an unrecognizable emotion... Somber eyes and a downturned mouth.She’s disappointed.But I don’t know why she looks disappointed. I don’t know why she looks so upset.She’s disappointed...In me.And maybe that’s what crushes me. For the very first time, it crushes me—because she’s never looked at me this way. Then it makes me wonder why it makes me feel so bad. Why it makes me somehow feel inadequate and for whatever reason—culpable.Because I do feel bad—But this persistent girl—this stranger—she has the audacity to plant a tear-stained, unwarranted kiss on my lips.Yoojung opens her mouth, watching the scene plummet. It looks like she’s about to say something.I know it’s only another mere, fleeting second that goes on, but somehow everything pans out through my eyes in slow motion—feeling like it’s dragging on for a dreadful eternity.Yoojung chooses not to say a thing.She turns her heel and starts walking out the library’s doors, pure disappointment still pained on her soft, delicate features.Part of me still feels terrible. Still doesn’t know why. Doesn’t understand why she’d looked disappointed. Doesn’t understand why she’s making me feel that way; making me question something that has no significance to my—our—lives at all.It’s just some random-ass fucking girl... kissing me, no warning.And, I still don’t know why, but with Yoojung’s downcast expression still burning fresh on my mind—This girl I feel absolutely nothing for—this stranger—I close my eyes and for a brief moment... I actually allow myself to sink into the mess. I kiss her back.Why...?Because I’m not supposed to feel anything, and neither is Yoojung.Because I don’t want to care anymore.Because I can.      YoojungTWO VERY VALUABLE lessons I’ve learned while growing up:The phrase “Fake it ‘til you make it” warrants some credibility.If you’re meaner than they are, they can’t ever touch you.Your biggest opponent is yourself. Chances are, if there’s something that you want and you still haven’t yet acquired it, just try to look a little harder and re-evaluate your surroundings. Sometimes, the biggest obstacle standing in your way is only yourself.In my case specifically, I’ve noticed that the more and more I pretend, the easier things become. It’s not... lying to myself per se, nor am I restricting myself from... being who I “really am” on an intrinsic level—but rather the contrary. I’m still in the process of growing, still changing. Who I “really am” shouldn’t be such a set-in-stone, limiting concept—especially considering how easily I can sometimes break under pressure. If anything, by pretending, I’m merely trying to discover said identity.Right?I see my weaknesses, my inadequacies. I acknowledge them all. But then I also see who I want to be. I see exactly what it is that I lack, what I need to improve on—and then, I try to channel exactly who that person is. False guises are made in order to mould myself into truly becoming that way ultimately.Someone strong.I’m deliberately rough because I want to be. I want to become someone who is resilient and unafraid.I know what it is I want from this life. What I want from those who are around me.Maybe it’s cruel to say, but, quite frankly, if you have no larger purpose in my life—if your role doesn’t benefit me in any way—I’m no longer afraid to drop you. I won’t hesitate to drop you. Not intentionally, but not quite unintentionally either—things just happen and this is the aftermath to it all: I simply decide to not let adversaries affect me.At least... I don’t like to let it show that they do.Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up with all that many friends, alongside parents who were always stringent and rarely displayed to me their affections: only doing so if I were to succeed in achieving incredible, ground-breaking milestones that were separate from the kinds they were already so accustomed to seeing with my older brother. Something new, something fascinating. Something actually worthy of the praise.Maybe because of all this, growing up, the girl I was—the girl who didn’t say much and never once knew how to really stand up for herself—was deemed weak. An easy target...Maybe that’s why I try so hard now. Overcompensation—is that it? A titanium shield produced from the fear of getting hurt, from getting walked all over—and then hurting everyone else first so that they can’t flip the script on me and beat me to it instead. Is that it?Maybe...Truth is, it’d be a complete lie to say that I wasn’t still dealing with the same old demons. I know I’m insecure. I’m hostile and cynical to the core, always ready to pounce—but even when you hurt me, now, you’ll never see me admitting it. If you hurt me, now, you’ll never see me crying in front of you. Somehow, lashing out and getting angry seems like the better option instead.Yeah, I know it’s messed up. I know I’m messed up.The only difference now, though, is that at the very least, I’ve gotten so much better at hiding it all.    I think it’s a double-edged sword, if anything. I’ve certainly become a whole lot stronger, a lot wiser of a person because of everything I’ve tried to put behind me—but when something suddenly good comes my way, I always make a huge effort to protect it. To latch onto it with all that I can. And it’s pitiful, I know, but I do it anyway. Because this is so, so incredibly rare for me—coming by good things, I mean.I figure this is why I’m somehow best friends with a sociable, spunky, self-proclaimed “art hoe”. Soeun and I are different on so many levels: we have different passions and aspirations, very different ways of approaching situations—but, she’s one of those good things I’ve mentioned. I suppose our very few similarities were enough to bring us together...She’s in-your-face, confrontational, loud, with an unconventional sense of style you can’t help but to be captivated by. Cropped pixie haircut; an adequate amount of piercings on her body paired with clothes exclusively found only in online shops or indie boutiques... She’s simply the walking embodiment of “cool girl”—making loud, grandiose state