Heeseung (5.)

Heeseung was known by everyone. Loud laughter followed him wherever he went. People called his name from across the room, hands reached out to pull him into conversations, into pictures, into moments. He was always surrounded, always seen, always at the center of attention. You were the opposite.

You preferred silence. You observed more than you spoke. You stayed on the edges, not because you were invisible, but because you chose not to be seen. People knew your face, maybe your name, but nothing beyond that. You thought he was superficial. He thought you despised him. You were both wrong. The school was celebrating that night. Music echoed through the halls, laughter bounced off the walls, lights too bright, voices too many. Everyone seemed to be enjoying it. Everyone except you. You stood by the wall, phone in hand, pretending to be busy, when the noise shifted. Someone stopped in front of you. Heeseung. “Are you hiding from the party or from me?” he asked, half-smiling.

You didn’t look up. “Neither. I was here first.”

“Fair point,” he said. “Still, you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I would,” you replied flatly.

He laughed, not offended. “You always talk like that?”

“Only when people don’t take the hint.”

He crossed his arms, studying you. “And what hint was that?”

“That I don’t like parties.”

“Or people?” he teased.

You finally looked at him. “Some people.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wow. I feel honoured.”

You went back to your phone. “You shouldn’t. You’re exactly where you belong. In the middle of everyone.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked, quieter now.

“Yes,” you said. “You like attention.”

He shook his head. “I like noise because it stops me from thinking.” You looked up again, really looked this time. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“You think I’m superficial,” he continued. “I can tell.” “And you think I despise you,” you replied.

He sighed. “Do you?”

“No,” you said honestly. “I just don’t get you” “Then maybe you should,” he said