P.A.R. Sunghoon

The icy afternoon wind did nothing to hide how you were shivering. Three familiar faces from your old school surrounded you in the square, enjoying their numerical advantage.

— “Look at her, she’s still just as pathetic. I bet she hasn’t even spoken to anyone since she left,” one of them said, crossing his arms.

— “People? They can barely answer when you talk to them.” the girl in the group mocked.

Tired of the harassment and constant humiliation, impulse took over before you could consider the consequences. “I have a boyfriend. And I’m waiting for him,” you blurted out. A brief silence gave way to laughter. They knew you were cornered. Desperation made you turn your head toward the path, and you saw a boy walking a few feet away, distracted by his headphones hanging around his neck. Without a moment to hesitate, you stood up, walked quickly toward him, and grabbed his forearm harder than necessary.

“You’re here, my love,” you said, your voice on the verge of breaking, your gaze fixed on the others. The boy stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at your hand in his jacket, your face stiff with panic, and then at the group watching you with skepticism. The tension in the air was palpable. He hesitated for a split second, that microsecond in which anyone would take a step back to avoid getting involved. But noticing your white knuckles gripping his hand, he let out a heavy sigh, adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, and took a step forward, subtly placing himself between them and you.
“Sorry for the delay, I got caught up in it,” he replied, his tone so flat and natural it completely threw the group off. The aggressors’ smiles vanished, but the tallest one took a step forward, shaking his head.

— “Please, it’s obvious you don’t even know each other. If he’s really your boyfriend, give each other a good kiss right now, prove it.”