Like Night and Day 33
Chapter 33
Stereotypical
The Saturday afternoon was a quiet reminder of the emptiness in his world. Kyungsoo stared at the acceptance letter in his hand before setting it down. The words in the letter did nothing, but continue to drag on his feeling of depression. The school of law had welcomed him with open arms as an international student in their program, but the news added more chains to his ankles than wings to his back.
Hopping from one problem to another, that’s all he has ever done. There was no denying it, but there was no stopping it either. He was a train in full speed with no gears to stop.
Being a lawyer had its perks. His father had a high income, but it seemed like a bleak and blank occupation for someone without the passion for the practice. But following in his father’s footsteps was what he had already decided to do. If he didn’t, Kyungsoo had no idea what else he wanted to do. He had been too busy following after someone else’s dream for him that he never had time to learn about himself and what he wanted.
But that was life. His life.
The doorbell downstairs pulled his attention from the letter. Rising from his seat, he left his room and took his time descending the steps down to the foyer. Irked at the excessive knocking, he eliminated the possibility that it could’ve been one of his father’s associates or the moving men that the old man once mentioned before.
After opening the door, Kyungsoo’s expression transformed from neutral to displeased. There was a temptation within him to close the entrance immediately, but he kept his composure, gripping the side of the door tightly.
In front of him, Jongin stood in full soccer uniform, a duffle bag around a shoulder and a soccer ball underneath his right arm. Kyungsoo almost assumed the boy was clearly lost and out of mind. There was nothing in his schedule that pertained to entertaining Jongin or dealing with him. No official business or personal set ups. Jongin was there on his own, private accord and Kyungsoo had no idea why.
“Is there a reason why you’re standing outside my house right now?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes warily examining the male before him. “I don’t remember asking for your company.”
Jongin remained undeterred by his bitter treatment. “Change into your old uniform and come with me.”
Appalled by the demand, Kyungsoo cocked his head, glaring. It was ridiculous to ask him to fit back into his old uniform when that same uniform was nearly two years old, collecting dust somewhere in the attic.
“I’m not interested in playing with you.”
“Why? What’re you doing right now?” Jongin attempted to peer inside the home, but Kyungsoo self-consciously pulled the door closer to his body, obstructing the view. “Your father’s not home. Do you need his permission first?”
“Fuck you,” Kyungsoo spat. He moved to close the door but Jongin set his foot inside, hindering the latter from forcibly shutting him out. “You’re trespassing on private property.”
“Play one game with me,” Jongin propositioned. “Get out of this house. It doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything worth your while anyways.”
Scowling, Kyungsoo clenched his jaw. “How the hell did you even find out where I lived?”
“A little lie and a bit of asking around the front office goes pretty far,” Jongin responded before pausing. “Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day or will you go back upstairs and change?”
“I see no reason why I should.”
“You haven’t been coming to the gym.” Jongin looked at him. “Isn’t it part of your therapy?”
“That’s none of your business. Get your foot out of the way before I break it,” Kyungsoo threatened with a growl. When the captain refused to move, the president stepped forward, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. “Go home.”
“Kyungsoo!” Jongin grabbed the door by the edge, using his elbow as leverage to keep the door from closing. “One game.”
“I’m not goddamn interested! Get that through your thick skull.” Looking up and making eye contact with the male who loomed over him was a mistake Kyungsoo learned too late to avoid. He bit his tongue back, putting a hand on Jongin again. “Call on someone else for a game.”
“What’re you afraid of?”
Kyungsoo stopped, giving the boy an expression of confusion and anger fused into one. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“You’re afraid of a lot of things,” Jongin asserted. “Playing one game against me shouldn’t be one of them.”
“Having no interest in playing with you has nothing to do with any of my fears, Jongin.”
“So you do have things you’re afraid of.” Analyzing the way Kyungsoo stood motionless, hung up in his words, Jongin realized he had one last chance to reel the boy in. “Play the game for you... For once in your life, do something for yourself, Kyungsoo. Play me.”
-
-
Baekhyun held onto the shelf for a bit of support. Heights was never his thing, and to be put on duty to restock the records on the higher shelf while trying to make sure the new items in the box underneath his arm didn’t tumble down on the shop floor was a hassle. Beneath him, Jihoon had been put on duty to hold the stand while the brunet did his part of the job. The old man had jokingly ordered for the young adult to catch the high schooler in his arms in the event of Baekhyun accidentally balancing off, Baekhyun had no intention of being saved by the male at all.
Jihoon was not displeasing to the eye, nor was he a nuisance to Baekhyun’s nerves. In fact, he was pleasant to talk to. Baekhyun found they had many similar interests. Their conversations were never dull despite the brunet’s misleading monotone voice. The college student kept topics on queue whenever the subject got too boring, and Baekhyun was well-entertained by it.
Glancing down, Baekhyun made a sound at the feel of the man reaching out to hold him by his thigh. He ignored it, knowing it was only a safety precaution. Besides the fact, the brunet could also sense the man’s concern over the small chance that he does fall back and injure himself.
“These are nice distressed jeans,” Jihoon said in a light tone, meaning to break the silence between them. “Your parents pay for this?”
Baekhyun shrugged, putting in another record in the shelf. “Yeah.”
“My parents never bought me these kind. They don’t get why people pay for jeans that’re already ripped.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Looking through his work, Baekhyun made sure he placed everything in the right, alphabetical order. “I think I’m done.”
“Ready to come down?”
Nodding, Baekhyun took the first step down, bending just enough to place his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder for balance. Consequently, the older male moved his hand from Baekhyun’s thigh to the high schooler’s waist and kept it there until the brunet had both of his feet on the ground.
“Thanks,” Baekhyun said, handing the empty box over to Jihoon. “I’ll take care of the steps.”
“I think it’s the other way around, princess.” Giving back the box to the brunet, Jihoon grinned. “I got the steps. You can start changing the display window in the front. I’ll be back.”
Without arguing, Baekhyun took back the box and followed the older man to the back. While Jihoon took care of putting away the step-ladder, Baekhyun hauled another box full of posters, tape, scissors, and CDs for Tau Cross.
When he stepped back into the main store, carefully moving as to not hit any of the adults and teens inside the store at the time, he spotted Chanyeol entering the building with a lost look on his face before seeing Baekhyun. Glancing behind him, Baekhyun looked to see if his boss or any of the other co-workers were watching him. When he saw that they were all too preoccupied attending to potential customers and conversing with them, he cocked his head, mouthing for Chanyeol to hurry up and approach him.
More than happy to, Chanyeol smiled at the other workers who greeted him as he moved quickly to follow Baekhyun to the front where the brunet was supposed to be.
When Chanyeol was just near enough, Baekhyun looked up at him with a stern look. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I know, but I thought that maybe we could have lunch together,” Chanyeol said, giving Baekhyun a smile that made the brunet want to forgive him for entering the shop. “I don’t have practice until two.”
Apologetically looking at him, Baekhyun sighed. “Yeol, I can’t. I’m busy.”
“But you have to eat lunch, don’t you?” Chanyeol looked down. “Do you need help with that?”
“No, Chanyeol. I’m fine. Really.” Baekhyun was quick to move when Chanyeol lifted his hands. “Is there someone you could eat lunch with instead of me?”
“Well, yeah…” Chanyeol mumbled. “I can call one of the guys up and eat lunch with them before going to practice, but I wanted to spend the afternoon with you.”
Clearing the front table display and setting the box on the floor, Baekhyun put his hands above his hips and pursed his lips as he looked at Chanyeol’s frowning face. “I’m actually skipping lunch today, Yeol… I have a lunch box in the back, but I won’t eat that until later.”
“But your lunch break’s in thirty minutes...” Chanyeol said, watching Baekhyun unpack the CDs. “Why’re you skipping?”
“I never said I was skipping. I said I’d eat later.”
With his shoulders slouched, Chanyeol nodded. “Okay… Do you want me to get you anything, at least? Water? Maybe crackers…”
“I’m alright. You don’t have to do anything.” Taking a pause, Baekhyun reached up to graze the pad of his thumb just below the giant’s bottom lip. “I get off at eight today. We can have late dinner. When’s practice over?”
“Maybe five-thirty. Six, if late.” Chanyeol stuck his tongue out just enough to brush against the thumb. Immediately, Baekhyun pulled his hand back. “Don’t skip lunch.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll be able to tell,” the jock claimed. “You’ll feel smaller when I hug you.”
Baekhyun laughed. “Then I just won’t hug you anymore. Simple as that.”
“I wouldn’t--” Chanyeol stopped when he felt a hand touch him by his shoulder. Looking back, he saw a gentleman slightly shorter, but with a mere glance, he could tell that the man was older. It didn’t take long for the basketball player to notice the tattoos proudly inked on the latter’s skin. Flustered, the giant took a step to the side, moving nearer to his boyfriend.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Uh, no. I was just--”
Shaking his head, Baekhyun stepped in. He gestured to Chanyeol with a hand. “Jihoon, this is Chanyeol. We go to school together.”
“Oh.” Smiling, Jihoon held out a hand. “Sorry. I thought you were bothering him.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chanyeol shook the hand, but his eyes glanced to the side at the brunet as if waiting for the latter to mention their official relationship. However, Baekhyun does not.
“It’s always nice meeting Baekhyun’s school mates.”
The smile on Chanyeol’s face is polite, but nothing more. “Yeah… Schoolmate.” After dropping contact, he stuffed both of his hands in his front pockets. Giving Baekhyun a neutral expression in an attempt to hide his hurt confusion while in the midst of trying to understand why the brunet omitted the fact that they were more than schoolmates, Chanyeol inhaled before exhaling tightly. “I should get out of your way. Um, seems like you guys are busy this afternoon. I’ll see you later, Baek. Text me when we can...hang out, I guess.”
Baekhyun grimaced, sensing Chanyeol’s hurt from the introduction. Jihoon was a co-worker and the environment was his work space. Introducing Chanyeol as his boyfriend would’ve been given the typical unprofessional image of a high school part-timer off track because their significant other decided to drop by their work.
“Okay…”
Chanyeol gave a small wave at him before leaving the shop without looking back for any fleeting glances. Moving on from the situation, Baekhyun hung his head as soon as the giant left, focusing his attention on unrolling the posters and taking out the clear tape and scissors.
Helping him, Jihoon took one of the scissors and cut open the plastic that kept the CDs together in a unit. “I’m surprised you’re friends with him, Baekhyun,” he said after a few minutes.
Baekhyun kept his eyes low. “And why is that?” he asked, attempting hard to prepare himself for anything hurtful.
“He’s just… I don’t know.” Jihoon paused for a moment. “Does he play a sport?”
“He plays basketball.”
“That makes sense. They all kind of dress the same no matter where they go.”
Glancing at the male as he pulled a length of tape from the roll, Baekhyun held his tongue. “Maybe because he was wearing his varsity jacket.”
“They just love to wear their varsity gear, don’t they?” Jihoon began placing the CDs in organized stacks. “Anyways, when I was in high school, people like you and me didn’t mingle with athletes, really. When I saw him over here with you, I thought he was bothering you about something. Then, when you said he was a schoolmate, it just came off as weird.”
“Why.” Baekhyun didn’t mean to say the word so demandingly, but his fingers were shaking. He was, of all things, annoyed.
“Well…” Jihoon started, “you two looked odd standing next to each other. There were too many things contrasting. I mean, you have your distressed jeans, black shirt, eyeliner and bracelets on, and he was looming over you by a good foot or two wearing Nike tamed basketball pants and his varsity jacket. Not saying that you two can’t be friends just because you two look like an oddball pair. I was just surprised. He’s not an asshole, is he?”
“No,” Baekhyun said quickly. When he heard his tone of voice, he double checked himself. “He’s not.”
“That’s good to hear, then… Usually, whether you’re a good person or not, you tend to be influenced by the people you surround yourself with.” Jihoon noticed the way Baekhyun’s hands were no longer moving. “You okay there, princess?”
Snapping out of it, Baekhyun nodded. He took the edge of one of the posters, positioned it against the clear window, and placed a strip of tape on the corner. “I just think that… some stereotypes are baseless.”
“I don’t think it’s a stereotype. I think it’s a proven theory, Baekhyun.”
“It’s not a theory if there’s a single contradiction to disprove it,” the brunet snapped mildly.
Raising a brow, Jihoon scoffed. “You really think that it’s possible to be in the athletic crowd and not be peer pressured into doing something against your moral code? No. I’ve been there once, Baekhyun, and I’ll tell you that the answer’s no.”
“Being peer pressured can happen in any group, Jihoon.”
Grinning, Jihoon pointed the scissors in Baekhyun’s direction. “You’re smart for a high school kid,” he commented off-handedly. “I’m not saying your friend Chanyeol’s an asshole. You said so yourself that he’s not. But, I’m only saying. Jocks don’t have that age-old reputation of being assholes for nothing, princess.”
[[ previous chapter]] [[ next chapter]]
Stereotypical
The Saturday afternoon was a quiet reminder of the emptiness in his world. Kyungsoo stared at the acceptance letter in his hand before setting it down. The words in the letter did nothing, but continue to drag on his feeling of depression. The school of law had welcomed him with open arms as an international student in their program, but the news added more chains to his ankles than wings to his back.
Hopping from one problem to another, that’s all he has ever done. There was no denying it, but there was no stopping it either. He was a train in full speed with no gears to stop.
Being a lawyer had its perks. His father had a high income, but it seemed like a bleak and blank occupation for someone without the passion for the practice. But following in his father’s footsteps was what he had already decided to do. If he didn’t, Kyungsoo had no idea what else he wanted to do. He had been too busy following after someone else’s dream for him that he never had time to learn about himself and what he wanted.
But that was life. His life.
The doorbell downstairs pulled his attention from the letter. Rising from his seat, he left his room and took his time descending the steps down to the foyer. Irked at the excessive knocking, he eliminated the possibility that it could’ve been one of his father’s associates or the moving men that the old man once mentioned before.
After opening the door, Kyungsoo’s expression transformed from neutral to displeased. There was a temptation within him to close the entrance immediately, but he kept his composure, gripping the side of the door tightly.
In front of him, Jongin stood in full soccer uniform, a duffle bag around a shoulder and a soccer ball underneath his right arm. Kyungsoo almost assumed the boy was clearly lost and out of mind. There was nothing in his schedule that pertained to entertaining Jongin or dealing with him. No official business or personal set ups. Jongin was there on his own, private accord and Kyungsoo had no idea why.
“Is there a reason why you’re standing outside my house right now?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes warily examining the male before him. “I don’t remember asking for your company.”
Jongin remained undeterred by his bitter treatment. “Change into your old uniform and come with me.”
Appalled by the demand, Kyungsoo cocked his head, glaring. It was ridiculous to ask him to fit back into his old uniform when that same uniform was nearly two years old, collecting dust somewhere in the attic.
“I’m not interested in playing with you.”
“Why? What’re you doing right now?” Jongin attempted to peer inside the home, but Kyungsoo self-consciously pulled the door closer to his body, obstructing the view. “Your father’s not home. Do you need his permission first?”
“Fuck you,” Kyungsoo spat. He moved to close the door but Jongin set his foot inside, hindering the latter from forcibly shutting him out. “You’re trespassing on private property.”
“Play one game with me,” Jongin propositioned. “Get out of this house. It doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything worth your while anyways.”
Scowling, Kyungsoo clenched his jaw. “How the hell did you even find out where I lived?”
“A little lie and a bit of asking around the front office goes pretty far,” Jongin responded before pausing. “Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day or will you go back upstairs and change?”
“I see no reason why I should.”
“You haven’t been coming to the gym.” Jongin looked at him. “Isn’t it part of your therapy?”
“That’s none of your business. Get your foot out of the way before I break it,” Kyungsoo threatened with a growl. When the captain refused to move, the president stepped forward, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. “Go home.”
“Kyungsoo!” Jongin grabbed the door by the edge, using his elbow as leverage to keep the door from closing. “One game.”
“I’m not goddamn interested! Get that through your thick skull.” Looking up and making eye contact with the male who loomed over him was a mistake Kyungsoo learned too late to avoid. He bit his tongue back, putting a hand on Jongin again. “Call on someone else for a game.”
“What’re you afraid of?”
Kyungsoo stopped, giving the boy an expression of confusion and anger fused into one. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“You’re afraid of a lot of things,” Jongin asserted. “Playing one game against me shouldn’t be one of them.”
“Having no interest in playing with you has nothing to do with any of my fears, Jongin.”
“So you do have things you’re afraid of.” Analyzing the way Kyungsoo stood motionless, hung up in his words, Jongin realized he had one last chance to reel the boy in. “Play the game for you... For once in your life, do something for yourself, Kyungsoo. Play me.”
-
-
Baekhyun held onto the shelf for a bit of support. Heights was never his thing, and to be put on duty to restock the records on the higher shelf while trying to make sure the new items in the box underneath his arm didn’t tumble down on the shop floor was a hassle. Beneath him, Jihoon had been put on duty to hold the stand while the brunet did his part of the job. The old man had jokingly ordered for the young adult to catch the high schooler in his arms in the event of Baekhyun accidentally balancing off, Baekhyun had no intention of being saved by the male at all.
Jihoon was not displeasing to the eye, nor was he a nuisance to Baekhyun’s nerves. In fact, he was pleasant to talk to. Baekhyun found they had many similar interests. Their conversations were never dull despite the brunet’s misleading monotone voice. The college student kept topics on queue whenever the subject got too boring, and Baekhyun was well-entertained by it.
Glancing down, Baekhyun made a sound at the feel of the man reaching out to hold him by his thigh. He ignored it, knowing it was only a safety precaution. Besides the fact, the brunet could also sense the man’s concern over the small chance that he does fall back and injure himself.
“These are nice distressed jeans,” Jihoon said in a light tone, meaning to break the silence between them. “Your parents pay for this?”
Baekhyun shrugged, putting in another record in the shelf. “Yeah.”
“My parents never bought me these kind. They don’t get why people pay for jeans that’re already ripped.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Looking through his work, Baekhyun made sure he placed everything in the right, alphabetical order. “I think I’m done.”
“Ready to come down?”
Nodding, Baekhyun took the first step down, bending just enough to place his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder for balance. Consequently, the older male moved his hand from Baekhyun’s thigh to the high schooler’s waist and kept it there until the brunet had both of his feet on the ground.
“Thanks,” Baekhyun said, handing the empty box over to Jihoon. “I’ll take care of the steps.”
“I think it’s the other way around, princess.” Giving back the box to the brunet, Jihoon grinned. “I got the steps. You can start changing the display window in the front. I’ll be back.”
Without arguing, Baekhyun took back the box and followed the older man to the back. While Jihoon took care of putting away the step-ladder, Baekhyun hauled another box full of posters, tape, scissors, and CDs for Tau Cross.
When he stepped back into the main store, carefully moving as to not hit any of the adults and teens inside the store at the time, he spotted Chanyeol entering the building with a lost look on his face before seeing Baekhyun. Glancing behind him, Baekhyun looked to see if his boss or any of the other co-workers were watching him. When he saw that they were all too preoccupied attending to potential customers and conversing with them, he cocked his head, mouthing for Chanyeol to hurry up and approach him.
More than happy to, Chanyeol smiled at the other workers who greeted him as he moved quickly to follow Baekhyun to the front where the brunet was supposed to be.
When Chanyeol was just near enough, Baekhyun looked up at him with a stern look. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I know, but I thought that maybe we could have lunch together,” Chanyeol said, giving Baekhyun a smile that made the brunet want to forgive him for entering the shop. “I don’t have practice until two.”
Apologetically looking at him, Baekhyun sighed. “Yeol, I can’t. I’m busy.”
“But you have to eat lunch, don’t you?” Chanyeol looked down. “Do you need help with that?”
“No, Chanyeol. I’m fine. Really.” Baekhyun was quick to move when Chanyeol lifted his hands. “Is there someone you could eat lunch with instead of me?”
“Well, yeah…” Chanyeol mumbled. “I can call one of the guys up and eat lunch with them before going to practice, but I wanted to spend the afternoon with you.”
Clearing the front table display and setting the box on the floor, Baekhyun put his hands above his hips and pursed his lips as he looked at Chanyeol’s frowning face. “I’m actually skipping lunch today, Yeol… I have a lunch box in the back, but I won’t eat that until later.”
“But your lunch break’s in thirty minutes...” Chanyeol said, watching Baekhyun unpack the CDs. “Why’re you skipping?”
“I never said I was skipping. I said I’d eat later.”
With his shoulders slouched, Chanyeol nodded. “Okay… Do you want me to get you anything, at least? Water? Maybe crackers…”
“I’m alright. You don’t have to do anything.” Taking a pause, Baekhyun reached up to graze the pad of his thumb just below the giant’s bottom lip. “I get off at eight today. We can have late dinner. When’s practice over?”
“Maybe five-thirty. Six, if late.” Chanyeol stuck his tongue out just enough to brush against the thumb. Immediately, Baekhyun pulled his hand back. “Don’t skip lunch.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll be able to tell,” the jock claimed. “You’ll feel smaller when I hug you.”
Baekhyun laughed. “Then I just won’t hug you anymore. Simple as that.”
“I wouldn’t--” Chanyeol stopped when he felt a hand touch him by his shoulder. Looking back, he saw a gentleman slightly shorter, but with a mere glance, he could tell that the man was older. It didn’t take long for the basketball player to notice the tattoos proudly inked on the latter’s skin. Flustered, the giant took a step to the side, moving nearer to his boyfriend.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Uh, no. I was just--”
Shaking his head, Baekhyun stepped in. He gestured to Chanyeol with a hand. “Jihoon, this is Chanyeol. We go to school together.”
“Oh.” Smiling, Jihoon held out a hand. “Sorry. I thought you were bothering him.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chanyeol shook the hand, but his eyes glanced to the side at the brunet as if waiting for the latter to mention their official relationship. However, Baekhyun does not.
“It’s always nice meeting Baekhyun’s school mates.”
The smile on Chanyeol’s face is polite, but nothing more. “Yeah… Schoolmate.” After dropping contact, he stuffed both of his hands in his front pockets. Giving Baekhyun a neutral expression in an attempt to hide his hurt confusion while in the midst of trying to understand why the brunet omitted the fact that they were more than schoolmates, Chanyeol inhaled before exhaling tightly. “I should get out of your way. Um, seems like you guys are busy this afternoon. I’ll see you later, Baek. Text me when we can...hang out, I guess.”
Baekhyun grimaced, sensing Chanyeol’s hurt from the introduction. Jihoon was a co-worker and the environment was his work space. Introducing Chanyeol as his boyfriend would’ve been given the typical unprofessional image of a high school part-timer off track because their significant other decided to drop by their work.
“Okay…”
Chanyeol gave a small wave at him before leaving the shop without looking back for any fleeting glances. Moving on from the situation, Baekhyun hung his head as soon as the giant left, focusing his attention on unrolling the posters and taking out the clear tape and scissors.
Helping him, Jihoon took one of the scissors and cut open the plastic that kept the CDs together in a unit. “I’m surprised you’re friends with him, Baekhyun,” he said after a few minutes.
Baekhyun kept his eyes low. “And why is that?” he asked, attempting hard to prepare himself for anything hurtful.
“He’s just… I don’t know.” Jihoon paused for a moment. “Does he play a sport?”
“He plays basketball.”
“That makes sense. They all kind of dress the same no matter where they go.”
Glancing at the male as he pulled a length of tape from the roll, Baekhyun held his tongue. “Maybe because he was wearing his varsity jacket.”
“They just love to wear their varsity gear, don’t they?” Jihoon began placing the CDs in organized stacks. “Anyways, when I was in high school, people like you and me didn’t mingle with athletes, really. When I saw him over here with you, I thought he was bothering you about something. Then, when you said he was a schoolmate, it just came off as weird.”
“Why.” Baekhyun didn’t mean to say the word so demandingly, but his fingers were shaking. He was, of all things, annoyed.
“Well…” Jihoon started, “you two looked odd standing next to each other. There were too many things contrasting. I mean, you have your distressed jeans, black shirt, eyeliner and bracelets on, and he was looming over you by a good foot or two wearing Nike tamed basketball pants and his varsity jacket. Not saying that you two can’t be friends just because you two look like an oddball pair. I was just surprised. He’s not an asshole, is he?”
“No,” Baekhyun said quickly. When he heard his tone of voice, he double checked himself. “He’s not.”
“That’s good to hear, then… Usually, whether you’re a good person or not, you tend to be influenced by the people you surround yourself with.” Jihoon noticed the way Baekhyun’s hands were no longer moving. “You okay there, princess?”
Snapping out of it, Baekhyun nodded. He took the edge of one of the posters, positioned it against the clear window, and placed a strip of tape on the corner. “I just think that… some stereotypes are baseless.”
“I don’t think it’s a stereotype. I think it’s a proven theory, Baekhyun.”
“It’s not a theory if there’s a single contradiction to disprove it,” the brunet snapped mildly.
Raising a brow, Jihoon scoffed. “You really think that it’s possible to be in the athletic crowd and not be peer pressured into doing something against your moral code? No. I’ve been there once, Baekhyun, and I’ll tell you that the answer’s no.”
“Being peer pressured can happen in any group, Jihoon.”
Grinning, Jihoon pointed the scissors in Baekhyun’s direction. “You’re smart for a high school kid,” he commented off-handedly. “I’m not saying your friend Chanyeol’s an asshole. You said so yourself that he’s not. But, I’m only saying. Jocks don’t have that age-old reputation of being assholes for nothing, princess.”
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