During recess, the classroom filled with noisy commotion. Jensen, reclining on the wooden backrest, reached into his phone and plugged in the game his brother had advised him last night. A colorful splash screen flashed on the screen. After a few minutes, he hunched over, fully immersed in the story. A thin bar of health constantly dwindled and piled up as he progressed further.
Jensen was a complete ignoramus at strategy games.
The door to the classroom opened ajar. A few voices fell silent, but then resumed. Biting his lip with tension, Jensen did not take his eyes off the screen until a bottle of berry yogurt appeared before him with a quiet pop.
He shifted his eyes to it and noticed the notification popping up on his phone that he was losing. He chuckled in frustration, lifted his chin and raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Jamin caught his gaze and smiled weakly. He moved the yogurt toward Jensen with his fingers, sat down in a nearby chair, and folded his arms on the desk, placing them under his head.
"You said you wanted to see me perform."
Jensen set the phone aside and squinted interestedly, picking up a small bottle and ripping off the cap. Taking a couple of sips of the mildly sweet mixture, he licked off the residue on the cap and said:
"Go ahead."
"I have a suggestion. Every Friday night I work out at Gancu Gym and I need someone to film my workout on camera. The instructor has asked me to send her videos every week since she is currently at a conference in Taiwan. I'll provide you with a camera," Jamin's eyes, a murky green, slowly traveled over Jensen's leaning figure, stopping at the loosely tightened tie. Through the three unbuttoned buttons he could see the strong, wiry neck and several moles going to his collarbones. He pulled away from them, and Chom Jamin lazily ran his fingers over the cracks on his plump lips. "And pay."
Jensen swayed thoughtfully.
"Gancu Hall? Where is that?"
"I'll send you the address on KakaoTalk," he immediately held out his phone.
Jensen scanned the icon and added him as a friend. Jamin looked at him and smiled again.
"So you agree?"
Remembering how much money Du San had spent on him, Jensen thought it was a great idea to make some extra money. In any case, he was going to find some kind of part-time job.
"Yeah."
"Fine," Jamin rubbed the ring on his finger and turned to face the class. "With you showing up, some of the personalities have started to walk in line."
Jensen hummed, taking a few sips of the delicate, delicious yogurt. He looked at his classmates hanging out at the window and shrugged.
"It was only worth a scare."
His gaze fell involuntarily upon Dae Han, seated in front of him. Catching back the suspicious glance over his shoulder with which he was trying to burn him, he smiled at him cheerfully. Gum Dae Han, feeling the sweat sliding down his back, abruptly turned away, his nose tucked into his phone.
Jamin, watching this, frowned slightly.
"Be careful," he said. "This guy has dangerous connections."
Emptying the white bottle, the black-haired man took aim and threw it precisely into the trash can standing in the corner of the classroom.
"It's okay."
He leaned back on the wooden backrest and yawned loudly, stretching his whole body. The folds of his white shirt clung to his pale skin, showing off his taut muscles. He reached a little higher with his toe and, as if by accident, touched the leg of the chair Dae Han was sitting on. Dae Han was crouched over it, not responding to the attack. Noticing this, Jensen sighed questioningly.
"Has he gone soft?"
He glanced at Jamin sitting next to him and shook his head.
"I like dogs."
Chom Jamin arched an eyebrow, staring back a little incomprehensively.
"Are we talking about animals now?" - he thought.
Dae Han's shoulders quivered, but Jensen didn't notice it, finding himself engaged in a conversation about pets.
Jamin bowed his head and grinned slightly, watching the sharply shifting emotions on his interlocutor's face. Biting the ring on his ring finger with his teeth, he felt the rich taste of iron in his mouth.
***
After history class, Jensen left the classroom and headed for the bathroom. On the way, after texting Hyun with questions about his well-being, he put his phone in his pants pocket and, pacing methodically, opened the door and slipped inside.
A white light hissed longingly in the bathroom.
Unhooking the tight belt, he pulled his pants down. A chill ran down his shoulders.
Suddenly something clicked behind him. Turning his head, Jensen stared at the locked door of one of the stalls. Finished with his business, he zipped up his fly, pressed the flush, and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. The cold water stirred, making his skin goosebumps. Splashing the moisture on his cheeks, he twisted the faucet and listened.
Someone was rustling tissues in one of the stalls, sobbing softly, barely audible.
Leaning over, EL noticed someone else's crossed legs and the dangling handle of a gray backpack with a tiny collector's keychain.
He stepped closer, and the sobs fell silent in the same second. The man inside heard his leisurely, cautious footsteps and frightenedly covered his mouth with his hand. Jensen tried to act as quietly as possible: he opened the door of the next stall, took off his slippers, rested his feet on the toilet lid, and, grasping the screen separating the toilets with his palms, pulled himself up, peering inside.
"Hey."
The short guy who'd fit on the toilet shuddered when he heard the low voice overhead, and jumped up, clutching his backpack with his wet fingers.
The big deer eyes stared at Jensen with genuine horror.
"Why is he so twitchy?"
"What are you doing?" asked Jensen curiously, jabbing his chin into the narrow screen.
He looked like a cat hanging from a curtain, clawing to keep its weight.
The schoolboy shook his hair, huffing against the corner. Without answering anything, he continued to stare at the boy's peering head.
With a twitch of his chin, El caught a fleeting movement, a grip on his stomach with one hand.
"Do you have something that hurts? Why didn't you go to the doctor?"
The boy pulled the backpack closer and hugged it, hiding his painfully pink face in the tight fabric.
"Tz."
Jensen went downstairs, put on his slippers, and left the bathroom, slamming the door.
Hearing the loud crack of the door shut, Namgun exhaled emptily. During his last class, his stomach twisted so badly that he was unable to make it to the doctor's office. The only place he could get to was the bathroom. He vomited several times with a heavy, disgusting stench of breakfast and water. His throat burned a little from the frequent vomiting. With trembling fingers he shoved mint gum into his mouth and tried to remove the nasty smell so that when he returned to class his classmates would not pester him with unnecessary questioning, but the stench did not seem to want to go away at all.
He felt dizzy when he tried to get up from the toilet, his legs immediately weak.
Disgusting day. Disgusting people.
He hated his own body.
The bathroom door suddenly creaked open.
Namgun looked up, turning back into a frightened rabbit. He expected the already familiar footsteps that, on hearing them, caused him to shake with fear, but there were none.
A few knuckles hit the door. With a quiet rustle, a half-liter bottle of water from a vending machine slipped into the stall below.
"Drink in small sips. I called for a medic, so she'll be here soon."
There were retreating footsteps. With trembling fingers Namgun picked up the bottle from the floor and pressed it to his cheek. The refreshing coolness, touching his hot skin, allowed him to exhale in relief.
He took a few cautious little sips, feeling the dryness that had constricted his throat slowly begin to disappear. Throwing the tissues he had been wiping sweat and tears with into the trash can, Namgoong stood up and timidly opened the door.
The toilet was empty.
Limping, he went to the mirror and washed his face with cool water. He touched his fingers to his swollen eyes and cheeks, threw his backpack on his shoulder, and grimaced painfully. The door to the bathroom opened again. A tall woman with a short haircut and wearing a white robe, seeing the schoolboy at the sinks, immediately jumped up to him, gently picking him up by the forearm.
"Why didn't you let anyone know where you were going? You should have called one of your classmates to help you get to the doctor's office," complained the doctor.
"I'm sorry," Namgun muttered guiltily, lowering his head.
The woman helped him out of the bathroom. When he turned his head, he saw a tall guy standing nearby, staring at the burning screen of the phone and shaking his head to the beat of the music. He was a whole head taller than he was and loomed over him like a giant.
"Thanks for telling me his whereabouts," the high school doctor thanked him.
Jensen, taking his eyes off the game, looked at them and nodded understandingly.
"It's okay."
Namgun looked at him studyingly, and staggered when their eyes collided. The hand holding the water bottle clenched.
"Let's go, let's go," the woman muttered, dragging him into the medicine cabinet.
After a few meters, something persuaded Namgun to turn around. He threw a confused look over his shoulder, but exhaled disappointedly, for there was no one else in the corridor.
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