Friday Fix

♚ | nine

I was trying not to panic.

The whole morning I’d been digging through my room, turning it upside down. The necklace ring was something I had kept with me for seven years, wearing it once in awhile only to preserve its shine. It was a gift from Haru, and one I treasured greatly – he gave it to me when I was twelve and he had had to move out of home for college. I remembered bawling my eyes out and losing my temper, demanding to know why he had to go. In hindsight the whole scene was pretty childish, but my efforts were enough to guilt-trip Haru so much that he had given me the necklace on my birthday that very year. After that he had followed up every year with a birthday gift more lavish than the last.

Still I liked the necklace best. It had a ring pendant with my name on it – faded now from all the wear and washing, but still discernible at a certain angle. I slammed an opened drawer close in frustration. Where was it?

From his side of the room, Jungkook pushed his headphones down from his ears, clearly irritated.

“Can you keep it down there? I can hear you over my music.”

I ignored him and went on rifling through my stuff. Yesterday I’d worn it when I went out – perhaps it had dropped on the Seoul streets? My heart sank. I really hoped that was not what had happened, I’d never get it back if that was the case.

My searching grew more intense. There came a loud clank of something hitting a table, the screech of a chair pushed strongly back, and then Jungkook was standing at the very edge of the threshold that led to my side of the room.

“Tell me what the f**k it is.”

I stopped. “Sorry?”

“Tell me what the f**k it is,” Jungkook growled, “so I can help you find the f*****g thing and get back some f*****g peace.”

I gave him the barest of glances and went back to digging through a drawer. “No thanks.” Lord knows what will happen if his searching upturns my stash of girly essentials. “I’m fine on my own.”

“But I’m not. I was in the middle of a game and died two times because I couldn’t concentrate with you sounding like a f*****g elephant in the background. Either tell me what it is or shut the hell up!”

I whipped around on my heel, opening my mouth for a cutting retort. Instead, the only sound that came out was akin to the voice of a dying whale.

Jungkook was wearing the necklace, my necklace, around his neck.

I went stiff. A dozen thoughts zoomed through my head in a moment, flashing by too quickly for me to truly comprehend it, but the gist was enough – dance, touching, hand on neck, running, dropping – oh s**t –

I swallowed, feeling very aware of the bomb of dread that had just exploded in the pit of my stomach.

“Nothing. I uh, I just remembered where I put it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and stalked back to his side of the room.

What the hell? I curled up in a crouch on the floor, now in full blown panic mode, hugging my knees to my chest and wondering what in Hades’ name was I supposed to do now. I had to get it back – lands’ sakes, it had my name on it! And why would he be wearing it? Was this a kink of his, picking up littered jewelry on the floor and putting them around his neck?

Jungkook chose that moment to get up for the bathroom. I watched the door closed behind him and spent the next two minutes while he was in there trying to figure out Lee Haneul’s Best Strategy For Retrieving Necklace.

LHBSFRN for short. No vowels. That had to be a record.

He exited the bathroom to me leaning against the bunk bed railings, innocently drinking water like nothing was going on. As he walked past I asked, all casual,

“Nice necklace you got there. Where, uh, where did you get it?”

Jungkook smirked. “From a girl. Naturally.”

“Do you” – I had to stop myself from stuttering – “know who she is?”

A very long, very hard pause.

“Nah. It was pretty dark and the music loud. Guess she’ll just be someone I dance-fucked.” The water nearly spewed out from my mouth. The hell? Was that even a legit term? “She wasn’t hot enough though.”

My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “We danced, it was great but she wasn’t fuckable, so I left and found another chick.” Excusez-moi? Wasn’t he the one that had been all gung-ho about coffee last night? Jungkook raised both hands and eyebrows. “And we did it at her place, so you don’t have to worry about soiled bedsheets.”

I folded my arms. “If she wasn’t bed-worthy why did you take her necklace?”

"Because chicks dig sentiment. I got a feeling I might see her again, and if she sees me wearing her necklace” – how dare you touch the ring, get your hands off it, you jackass! – “she’ll melt. And I’ll score another one for the bed. If she’s good enough for me then, that is.”

Boy, did I have a lot of things to say to that. First of all – in your dreams, jerk. Secondly, just how much of a douchebag can he get? Every time I think I’d gotten his level of stinkiness pinned down he upped it another grade. In all honesty I was impressed.

Walking back to my desk, I slumped down out of sight and placed my head in my hands. I had to get it back. A pang of worry struck my chest like lightning. I had to get it back before he saw my name on it.

I looked over at Jungkook, and my jaw clenched in determination.

♚

“Nutrition class?” I frowned at my schedule. “What’s a nutrition class?”

“It’s newly introduced.” Yugi tapped the paper lightly. “It’s supposed to teach you how to eat properly and all that jazz.”

“You mean restrict my diet to chicken breasts and shredded beetroot for a better physical shape?” I shuddered. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this class.”

We entered the classroom and the first thing I saw was Tae, sitting quietly in the front row.

Why, on second thought . . .

We took our places two seats down and I tried not to fidget. I’d noticed that he liked to dress well, and unless he was expected to perform some sort of physical exercise, he tended to go for the smart casual look. Today he had chosen to pair black pants with a loose red shirt of silk. I tried not to stare at his collarbones, where the shirt was unbuttoned and there was puh-lenty of skin on show.

“Stop staring,” Yugi muttered.

I flushed a scarlet red, before returning to opening my textbook. “I’m not.”

“You might look more convincing if the book wasn’t upside down.”

I really hadn’t noticed. Quickly I turned the book the right way around. I was pretty sure my face was on fire at this point. The way Yugi looked at me pointedly felt like an itch at the back I couldn’t quite scratch.

“I just thought he looked familiar, that’s all,” I said, trying to wriggle my way out of it. “Then I realized he came into our class once to do a demonstration.”

“Tae? Well I wouldn’t be surprised. He is a top student after all. His parents were dancers before him – one ballet, the other ballroom.”

That explains his angelic grace. “His hip hop isn’t that bad, either. Not the grunge, street-kind, but his is more . . . lyrical.”

Yugi picked up a pen and wrote down today’s date on his notebook. “He was in a co-ed school before this, but he had to transfer here after the letters got too annoying.”

I looked up from both my textbook and the secretive sidelong glances at Tae. “Letters?”

“Love letters. He was really popular at his old school, and would pretty much receive love letters almost every day. They said one time during Valentine’s, he got 24 boxes of chocolate and 58 red roses.”

I choked on air.

The teacher came in then, and with a sharp rap laid both cane and textbook on the table. Pushing up her glasses, she looked around at us, palms pressed flat against the table top.

“Now I know most of you consider this a boring subject, something that’s another easy A. Well, I am here to tell you that there is nothing easy in dancing, and that includes the nutritional aspect of your life. To start things off – can anyone tell me what is the major food group that comprises of up to 60% of a dancer’s diet?”

Oh I know this one! My hand shot into the air even as I snuck another look at Tae.

“Yes, Mr . . . ?”

“Uh, Lee Haneul.”

“Right. Yes, Mr Haneul?”

Opening my mouth, I stood up to answer so fast that the writing table attached to my chair flipped over and upended everything on it. Textbook and stationery all hit the floor with a clatter. Muffled laughter floated out from the four corners of the room and even the teacher looked decidedly unimpressed.

Well if I hadn’t been red enough when Yugi was teasing me, I was sure I resembled an overripe tomato now. Bending down to retrieve my book, I smacked my forehead painfully against the table, and Yugi had to grip my arm to stop me from falling forward.

The teacher sighed impatiently. “Just – your answer, Mr Haneul?”

I rubbed my head, wincing. “Uh, carbs, ma’am. Carbohydrates.”

“That’s right. Next time try to do that with less flair, yes?”

I sat down meekly. Yugi was trying hard not to laugh as he helped me collect my belongings. I can’t believe that happened in front of Tae. Through the rest of the class I didn’t dare to look at him; no doubt I was already a klutz in his eyes, I certainly didn’t need the label ‘creepy dude’ on top of it.

When the class finally finished and I was ready to scurry my embarrassed self out of there, I felt a shadow fall over my textbook. Looking up, my eyes were sucked right into a pair of green-gray ones.

Sigh.

A blue pen dropped from Tae’s fingers onto the table. “Your pen seems to like me very much. It came my way again.”

“That’s probably because its owner feels the same way,” I blurted out.

The instant those words dropped out into air I clapped both hands over my mouth in horror. Yugi who had been sliding out from his chair tripped over his own legs with immediate effect.

Something in Tae’s eyes flickered.

Shiiiiiit, Haneul - !

Grabbing my pen and bag I managed to stammer out a goodbye and high-tailed it out of there.

Guess Jungkook isn’t going to be the only one who thinks I’m gay.

♚

Later in the day, back in my room, my roommate stretched and stood. He stripped off his shirt, and I caught sight of a very well-defined torso before he pulled on a white tee.

I noticed he wasn’t wearing the necklace. My pulse quickened. “Where are you going?”

He was already pulling on his jacket and walking for the door. “Somewhere you ain’t at.”

“Are you going to take long?” I pressed.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The door slammed.

I waited a tense ten seconds. Jumping up, I darted toward his side of the room. Urgh, it hadn’t improved since the first day I’d been in here. But I had a mission to carry out, and so steeling my shoulders, I crouched down and began to rifle through his stuff.

His desk was a scrambled mess of food wrappers, scribbled papers and dried pens. His floor was a junkyard and I nearly screeched as in my searching, I touched the icky insides of a not-so-empty pizza box. Good lord, the man had a serious hygiene problem.

Where is it? It had to be somewhere here. I pushed away books and pulled open drawers; upturning everything on the table before moving on to his wardrobe. I eyed his clothes critically. They looked as if they had come straight out of a black and white movie.

“What the f**k are you doing?”

I froze, hand in a drawer. I had been so focused on finding the necklace I didn’t hear the door open, and now Jungkook was standing there, hands in a pocket, shoes half off, looking extremely, scarily, pissed. My heart stopped. This is it. I was going to die here today. The police were going to find my body next to an empty juice carton and several miserable chewing gum wrappers.

The door banged against his hinges and he was in front of me in a second, eyes flashing in that threatening way of his. “I said, what the f**k are you doing?”

I swallowed. My voice came out too small for my ears. “I – I was – looking for something.”

His eyebrows arched. “In my underwear drawer?”

I looked down. Oh look, Calvin Klein. My hand shot away as if it had touched poison while the other one shoved the drawer shut with such force it bounced back ajar. Standing up, I peered down and used my toe to nudge it close quietly.

“I was – I thought you might have taken it.” Clasping my hands behind my back, I could feel how the lines in my palms were trailed in sweat.

“What the f**k have you got that I could possibly want?”

“I mean, you could have taken it by accident.” Which you clearly did, I added, but did not say out loud.

“So instead of asking like a polite human would do, you decided to f*****g go through my things?”

“I wanted to ask just now but you brushed me off and just left!” I protested loudly.

Jungkook took a step forward. I took a step back. He took another, and pretty soon I was backed up against the wardrobe, the back of my head nearly buried in the mass of his hanging clothes.

“You know,” he snarled softly, “I’m still hell-bent on kicking you out of this room. Touch my things one more time and I will f*****g do so, whether I’m allowed to or not.”

The scent of black vanilla was distracting. “G – got it.”

Grabbing his water bottle from the table, he shot me a look of pure venom before storming out. I sank to my knees, hands clutching at my chest. When my phone rang, I nearly had a heart attack.

“Hello?” I answered.

“You sound like you just ran three thousand miles,” Ha Yul remarked.

“No, but I did have a near-death experience. What’s up?”

Ha Yul’s voice turned serious. “You better stay low from now on. Mum and Dad have found out you ran away from home, and trust me when I say they’re not the happiest people about it.”

The anxiety deepened. “What are they going to do?”

“Apparently Dad has a friend who’s a detective. They’re going to search every dance school in Korea – and they’re going to start right here, in Seoul.”

❈

It's a gloomy, rainy day here. We could do with some heat now, yes?

Yours in seduction,

Lady Godiva.