MY 6

It was because Han Seolwoo’s voice filled his ears.

‘Wooje-ya. Don’t cause any trouble while I’m not there.’

His voice held onto the reason that was on the verge of snapping. It wrapped it up tight and tied it firm once again.

Won Wooje bit the inside of his cheek hard. He knew that what he was about to do was something Han Seolwoo would fucking hate. However, his desire to beat the shit out of Bae Junhyeok remained the same. Won Wooje had to live life his own way, doing whatever the hell he wanted. But since he couldn’t do that, he felt like he was going to go crazy and jump out of his skin.

“Wooje! Is Seolwoo okay?”

Kim Chanju ran over and asked thoughtlessly. It seemed he hadn’t seen the situation from a moment ago because he had gone to the bathroom as soon as the bell rang. Won Wooje glanced at him and pulled back his irritated gaze.

“Get lost.”

“…”

“Don’t wake me up.”

Won Wooje flopped down onto his desk. His insides were seething and bitter.

୨ৎ

“Hey, babe.”

Standing outside the door, Won Wooje shook the plastic bag in his hand.

“Did you miss me?”

Han Seolwoo, eyes narrowed, opened the door for him. By now, he had grown indifferent to that habitual title and way of speaking. Because he had just woken up, his dark brown hair was scattered messily over his eyes.

“…What.”

“Am I too late? Ah—the manager was acting like such a bitch that I couldn’t get out. Anyway, being handsome is a crime, a crime.”

Taking off his sneakers, he stepped inside while rattling off nonsense.

“Did you make soybean paste stew? I find the stew you make so delicious, babe. When I eat it outside, it just doesn’t have that same taste.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he set his bag down on the sofa. Han Seolwoo was at a loss for words at the nonsensical roleplay.

“When did Mom say she’s coming?”

Won Wooje, who had been playing both the drums and the gong by himself, asked. Han Seolwoo glanced at the wall clock and answered.

“…Late.”

“Late, like what time?”

“I don’t know, nine o’clock?”

“Oh, big win.”

Chuckling, he tossed the plastic bag in his hand. The rustling bag landed with a thud in the arms of Han Seolwoo, who was standing still.

“Hey, you know that’s a seriously rare item, right? They don’t sell it at convenience stores, so I ran all the way to that, you know, discount mart to buy it. The place where you have to do self-checkout. It’s seriously far.”

Won Wooje sprawled out on the sofa and stretched both arms over the backrest. Closing his eyes and tilting his chin up, he bobbed his head from side to side.

“Uh, don’t be too moved.”

He waved his hand lightly as if it were a chore. The way he was smirking made him look less like a high schooler and more like the owner of a private investigation agency with a gang background.

Han Seolwoo slowly lowered his gaze. The wrapper of a StarXBar was poking out of the bag’s opening. It was Han Seolwoo’s favorite ice cream. Just as Won Wooje said, the nearby convenience stores didn’t really sell them.

Standing still, he didn’t reply and just let out a sigh. For some reason, there was no sign of him being thankful or glad. Instead, there was irritation mixed in his furrowed brow.

“…Hey.”

“Huh?”

“I told you not to cause any trouble.”

Han Seolwoo spoke quietly. His gaze was fixed on the back of Won Wooje’s hand resting on the sofa’s backrest.

He had noticed that wound from the moment Won Wooje was standing at the entrance shaking the plastic bag. Seeing how it was red, scraped, and swollen, it was clear he had gotten into a scuffle at school. Even without asking, the situation was vividly clear.

“What? I didn’t cause any trouble.”

Won Wooje shrugged his shoulders without a change in expression. Han Seolwoo’s brow narrowed at the playful look.

“…Then why is your hand like that.”

“It’s because I bumped into something while walking earlier.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not bullshitting.”

“…”

“Seriously, want to bet? Want to make a bet?”

Won Wooje acted up. Han Seolwoo let out a sigh and brushed his face down with both hands. His insides were burning at the sight of him joking around without knowing his feelings. It wasn’t the first or second time something like this happened, but his heart felt especially uncomfortable.

A person of interest. A thug. An iljin, a school violence committee. These were the words that usually hovered around Won Wooje. However, the real Won Wooje was a kid far removed from those things. He didn’t pick fights for no reason like other guys, nor did he torment kids or take their money. He just had intense reactions when someone got on his nerves or when there was a clear reason he thought was wrong.

Han Seolwoo hated those labels that followed him around. He hated Won Wooje being cursed at, and he hated him being scolded by teachers. He hated him fighting even more, and if it was because of him, he hated it even more than that. He just wanted him to live normally and quietly.

“Hey, hey, let’s eat ramen. I’ll make it amazingly with two eggs.”

Won Wooje sauntered toward the kitchen. Standing without moving, Han Seolwoo rubbed his eyes with his palm.

I wonder if Bae Junhyeok was hurt badly. He won’t get called in by his parents again, will he? He’s a high schooler now; what if a school violence committee is held? Bad things shouldn’t be written in his student records. No, does Won Wooje really not plan on going to college? What is he thinking, acting like that?

He had no appetite for ramen or anything else, and his useless worries only grew. Bad thoughts kept trailing one after another. He was already concerned about what the kids would whisper tomorrow morning.

“Ah, why agaiiiin.”

Won Wooje approached with three bags of ramen in one hand. Han Seolwoo lowered his eyes with a darkened face.

“…My head hurts.”

Won Wooje walked up slowly and came to a halt right in front of him.

“Ah, I mean, whyyy. What’s the problem now.”

Leaning his upper body forward, Won Wooje nudged his chest with his head. Han Seolwoo didn’t answer and kept his lips tightly shut. Irritation surged, making it impossible to control his expression.

“Hey, are you crying? Crying again?”

“…”

“Turns out this punk was just a crybaby. You cry so damn much.”

“I’m not crying.”

Han Seolwoo suppressed his anger. His insides were seething. He turned his head to avoid eye contact, but Won Wooje insistently shoved his face forward to follow him.

“Eh, your eyes are red though. Should I call your mom? What was the lady’s number?”

He was busy smirking and teasing without knowing the other’s feelings. At that obnoxious sight, Han Seolwoo lightly clenched his fist.

“…No.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m like this right now because I’m pissed off.”

“Don’t be pissed off, give me a kiss off.”

The thick-skinned behavior of treating it as a joke caused a surge of fury to explode. Han Seolwoo, mouth shut, turned his head. He felt like he would really get angry if this continued.

“…Forget it. Let’s not talk.”

“If you say forget it, is it over? Oppa, you’re really too much.”

“Are you going to keep joking around?”

“I’m not joking, I’m serious.”

Won Wooje beamed. Han Seolwoo, who was glaring at him after being rendered speechless, let out another sigh. Something hot was churning inside him.

“Ha…”

“Ah. I mean, why get irritated during this happy time. Not doing after-school study and eating ramen that Wooje makes, how great is…”

“Because you keep going around causing trouble!”

Han Seolwoo, suddenly shouting, huffed and puffed. In the sudden silence, Won Wooje flinched and stood still, staring at him. His black pupils slowly examined Han Seolwoo’s stiffened expression.

Won Wooje soon lowered his head. He let out a short breath while fiddling with the back of his neck. The neat corners of his mouth visible below his nose curled up crookedly.

“No…”

“…”

“I told you I didn’t cause any trouble?”

Tilting his chin at an angle, he strangely raised the end of his sentence.

“Then why is this hand injured.”

Han Seolwoo, his eyes hardening, grabbed his wrist as if snatching it. At the somewhat rough action, the plastic bag he was holding in his arms fell to the floor with a thud.

“What were you doing to get scraped like this? Is this a wound you get from bumping into something while walking?”

The eyes of the pressing Han Seolwoo wavered red. His heart thudded from the turbulent emotions.

“You hit Bae Junhyeok, didn’t you? You went and acted out in front of everyone again, didn’t you? I told you not to do that. How many times do I have to tell you that if you get caught up in something unfair, you could end up being the one who suffers? I clearly told you not to cause trouble in case this happened…”

“Ah.”

Won Wooje let out a short sound and furrowed his brow.

“…I said I didn’t hit him.”

Then he snapped his wrist out of the grip. Fiddling with his tingling wrist, he looked at Han Seolwoo irritably.

“I told you I just got hurt by myself. I said I hit it while walking, geez. How many times do I have to say it? Shit, are your earholes blocked? Should I dig them out for you?”

His intonation became increasingly aggressive. Won Wooje’s eyes rolled back slightly. It was evidence that he was getting angry.

Watching that, Han Seolwoo’s brow narrowed. He knew it was a dangerous time. But whether that was the case or not, he was so angry himself that he didn’t want to back down.

“…Would you believe it if you were me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you would believe those words after coming back with your hand looking like a rag.”

Won Wooje let out a hollow breath and looked at Han Seolwoo sideways.

“What’s there not to believe?”

“You’re not blind, so why would you suddenly hit that while passing by.”

“Decline on the derogatory remarks toward the disabled.”

“No, what…”

A ridiculous breath escaped at the forced answer. A short silence flowed between the two.

Won Wooje, letting out an irritated sigh, lowered his eyes. His gaze briefly brushed over the plastic bag that had fallen on the floor. Thump, Won Wooje threw the bags of ramen he was holding onto the floor. There was the sound of noodles breaking.

“I’m just gonna go.”

“What?”

“I’m starting to get fucking annoyed because you keep acting like a bitch.”