you had me at hello
you had me at hello
Jonghyun/Sunny (a bit of Sungmin-Sunny); Romance-Slice of Life, PG ~2,443 words
Beginnings are always adorable.
→ For Diana (happymint), belated happy birthday sissy! Sorry it’s late <3 In first person because it’s been so long since I last written anything in first POV and it gives a real feel to characters.
College is everything I have expected it to be - the clothes, the classes, and the students who are all completely diverse, making the place so much different from high school. The whole place is wide, divided into various departments, and sometimes the rooms are far from each other so you have to make a run for it when that bell rings. With a bunch of three-floored buildings and a couple of other smaller ones, SEU accommodates mainly all of its students with ease with their up-to-date facilities and the friendly staff.
Too friendly sometimes that I get crept out, but I guess it’s because they are paid to be friendly, to be this nice to the students.
“You’re all of the same level, from where you come from or what you were in high school. With scholarship or without - all of you are in SEU because you passed the hardest college assessment exam in the country, and you are all brilliant. No one is above the other here. We’re all equals,” says the dean during the freshmen orientation. Fat chance, that’s not quite true. Seniors, or the upperclassmen will like to push the younger ones around because they have more authority, by age and by level, so way to go dean, of course inequality exists. There is no such thing as fairness in life; there’s always imbalance for everything.
A little girl like me (though already a resident of Seoul for the past eighteen years) who comes from ordinary-nothing-special kind of high school gets easily intimidated by kids with big medals and guns behind them, students from the honor roll with a hundred pages worth of achievements and I’m here, being the nobody who got in by luck, by chance (by fate?) and I have yet to qualify for something bigger.
Like getting into law school, says my father. My parents tell me I should be a lawyer, because I talk back a lot, lie a lot even at home (it’s a vague basis to be honest). They expect me to be very good at everything, like their expectations fall too unreachable, and they will pretend they’re the ones who understand me best and that they know what’s good. “You’ll never regret it!”
Sometimes I actually do, because they don’t know how much I’ve been keeping up the pace since grade school. The pressure just doesn’t go away, yet I’m exactly the type of person (according to Taeyeon) who isn’t going to let my parents down. I mean, no kid does that, right?
Political Science bores me to hell - I honestly don’t know how I will survive the first few weeks. It can be because Lee Sungmin is a couple of seats (5 seats and an aisle) away, or that, because I feel worried I may fail it and that’s a shame considering it’s my major. We don’t want to be kicked out of the draw box for getting into law school, now do we?
“Can you discuss Article III of the constitution to us, Lee Sunkyu?”
I have no idea what Article III contains so I dare not look up to the professor, who for the first time randomly calls a name from his record list. “Lee Sunkyu?”
Now I know Sungmin is looking at me. He knows my name, familiar with it; his affable presence just makes me like him all the more. I raise my hand, shaking off the fear of reciting in front of class (for crying out loud, I should outgrow this! I’m a college student now!) and I stand up when the instructor’s eyes catch me.
“Recite Article III, please?”
“Right, Article III!” I lick my lips, and it tastes like sweet cherry, the lip balm I applied before getting to class. I randomly pull out whatever my memory can bring out and apparently, as I finish off, the professor nods, agrees and requests me to take a seat without furthermore commenting.
I sigh in relief, sinking back into my chair. I have to read the book later just in case this damn prof asks again tomorrow. The hour seemingly goes on and on, like a whirling rollercoaster ride and by the near end of session, we are divided into teams, counting off from the first row to the last student in the back seat. Each group has assignments, which are now written on the board. We will get on with reporting according to our group numbers. I’m in group four, and guess what else is new? Sungmin is too, so I think it is because of fate.
I inch for the vacant seat next to him, a little awkward now as I squeeze myself in with the already decided leader Onew. There are ten of us in the group. I try to hold myself in, listening to the plans and strategy of delivering, the division of reporting and all that stuff. As the piece of paper where all our contact numbers is listed, I write my name just after Sungmin’s. Slowly I put my number, as a part of my brain hastily memorize his.
“We’re going to meet on Sunday at one in the second floor library, okay? We’ll divide the lines and order,” says our leader. “Everyone has to be there, understand?”
“But it’s a Sunday!” whines one.
Onew smiles. “That way, no one’s schedule will be ruined. Because we’ll all be free by then.”
“I might not be able to go...” I then speak up. Onew and I are previously classmates from high school so he shots me a glare and I end up giggling. “Then I’ll cancel. No need to be angry.”
“Eh, Jungshin-ah! You’re coming, okay?” Onew asks the boy in front of him, lazily looking up with a shrug. “And bring your wife!”
“I’m not his wife,” declares the boy beside him, folding his hands together. “I said I’ll go if he goes, that’s all.”
“They’re married and won’t admit it,” Nicole smiles maliciously, and all of us end up laughing our hearts out before the meeting is adjourned, and I then head for home, just as how my everyday goes and not expecting what my tomorrow will be like or the day after that.
Apparently, Sunday comes quickly, and I’m finishing my ice cream over lunch. The school is quieter on weekends, I walk quite unafraid with the cup of unfinished dessert, wandering towards the library floors and checking my phone once in a while if Onew has been leaving notes on postponing the meeting. There is none so I assume we will push through.
12:58 says my watch, the stairwell opening is windy this afternoon as I overlook the field and the main gates. My eyes excitedly bounce off when I finally see the likes of a groupmate walking, one hand inside his pocket, another holding his umbrella.
“Yah! Where are the others?” I call from here as loud as I can, even when the outside of the library has posts of ‘Silence!’ or ‘Keep Quiet’.
He shrugs, hastily climbing up the stairs underneath before I finally see him from head to toe as he advances towards me. He has nice jet-black hair, all touseled and probably conditioned as much; a nice lean body too, and a jawline that will make even Yoona go wow (that girl is too hard to please). Everything about him looks practically nice, and I can’t say so for his attitude since I haven’t ever got the chance to talk to him. Until now.
His name is Jonghyun as I heard, only because I know him as a group mate.
I sit on the floor, crossing my legs and waiting for my phone to beep; any messages are helpful at the moment. Without anymore exchanging a few words and sighs, and complains, he sits next to me, about a meter away, also crossing his legs.
“Aren’t you an early bird?”
I smile a little. “Well, I had to come. I might not get my report.”
“So you and Onew have been classmates back in high school?”
“Yeah, but we’re not that close,” I answer him nonchalantly, unable to look at him at all because the cool atmosphere feels a little strange for the the time. I glance and see him reading his clock as well, both of us waiting as five minutes lapse.
I feel uncomfortable at this sudden awkward silence and it just leads to nothing but trouble so I then say, “Back in high school, we taxed tardiness. And by tax, I mean during group meetings, when one can’t come on time he has to pay 100 won for each minute that he is late.”
He lets out a chuckle. “That’ll be fun.”
“Then let’s tax them,” I say. “It’s already six minutes after one so that makes it six hundred won.”
“I’m getting half of this, right?” he questions and I laugh. The subject dies out once again, and I don’t speak because I feel rather out of place to always be the one breaking walls here. Yet he fails my expectation when he notices what I’m doing to my phone (and I continuously do it since the silence just frightens me). “Why don’t you just throw it by the river if you’re going to end up hammering it on the floor?”
I frown, looking at his phone. It is a better model than mine, prettier and less bulky, with a shiny white shealth. “Right, just because you have that one!”
“You mean this? I don’t use it often -”
“Where the hell are they?!” I say out loud, frustrated because I can’t stand being next to this person for a second more. My Sunday, which is spent mostly at home playing games, watching TV, pranking Dad (you know, life?), ends up on wasted time, and I hate having to waste time this way. Waste time doing at least something, at least talking to someone... I know.
At the corner of my eye, I see him look at his watch, smirking at it. “One thousand seven hundred won.” His voice is gruff, and for some reason I don’t see him as much of a nuisance anymore until he says, “I heard you like singing and playing the guitar.”
I start to laugh out of nowhere, shaking my head. “Where in the world did you get that?”
“Yonghwa told me. He’s my roommate at the dorm,” he answers quite indifferently, unnerved perhaps that I’m suddenly doubting his stalker abilities. Beautifully he tilts his head at an angle so clean, and for a moment his eyes brighten, or it must be the sun now glowing over a few meters through the open window. The wind touches his face and it is the start of autumn.
“Do you know Yonghwa?” He brings himself up and leans against the wall, still looking down at me, his stance like a supermodel with hands down his pockets.
I smile all of a sudden and answer, “Yes, because of -“
“Seohyun,” we chorused, and I instantly blush. What apparently goes on here is something that is out of my control, like something the back of my brain just likes confusing my nervous system into acting all... giddy.
“Yonghwa and I have been friends since kindergarten,” he tells me enthusiastically, and laughs because of a memory I suppose and I begin to involve myself more, nodding and listening intently. Such grace, the way his mouth moves and his words slur - though I know it will be odd for me to be watching the little little things, I do have that tendency. And it brightens my cheek to a crimson, I just know it.
He groans after the nth second of our newly furnished friendship, and looks at his watch. “Seven thousand four hundred! What the hell? Let’s go get them.”
I tilt my head at the last statement. “Get them?”
Jonghyun nods grumpily. “Yes, Nicole lives around there. And Sungmin’s dorm is at the next block.”
Sungmin. He knows where Sungmin lives. “You know where Sungmin is staying?”
“It’s not far from here to be honest,” he just adds. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is agony! They’re going to pay double I swear, it’s been over an hour!”
I shake my head at worry, just a little, because I don’t particularly trust him, even if he is that handsome. It still gives me goosebumps thinking that he knows much more about me than I know of him; and usually that doesn’t happen to me. No guy really tries to get to know me that well, and Jonghyun can be an exception. I want to laugh because this is crazy - this truly is a little out of proportion. Amused, I smile and deny his offer, both of us keeping still and quiet, as his ‘okay-fine-let’s-bore-ourselves-to-death’ fades until finally a girl coming up the staircase cuts up the silence.
Holding our breathes, we both sit up straight. “Hey, Nicole.”
“I didn’t know you were from the same school with Jonghyun.”
“He told you that, O-M-G you!” Nicold rushes and slaps the boy’s shoulder.
“She’s totally like that. She likes denying her roots,” Jonghyun tells me, as though asking for some backup and I both laugh at them, as he cowers from the girl’s irritation. “Sunny-ah, ask her for the -” he props his wrist and counts the minutes. “Eight thousand won.” He calls me Sunny- ah for the first time, that rasp thickness in his voice, the way his deep eyes make a great deal of butterflies flutter wildly inside. It gives you the exact chills you get when you meet your prince charming, your destined one, your knight in shining armor. Although it gets confusing because I don’t want to like him - not at all (because I like to reserve my heart to Lee Sungmin, thank you very much).
Apparently, I notice Nicole gasp, eyes widening. “Eight thousand? What for?”
I scratch my head. “Well, we were here on time. And you guys weren’t. So we’re collecting a hundred won for every minute.”
“What? You agreed to this?” She nearly screams and I nod timidly, smiling as Jonghyun stands beside - somewhat protecting, somewhat shielding me from the accusation. But instead, he points at me, nearly laughing and clapping.
“It was her idea! I swear!”
And that is how, at his words, I realize my heart will have to bend a little, little farther away from Lee Sungmin, the supposed destined prince charming and first love, to this enigmatic child that likes to be free and be on time, and play guitar and sing secretly just like me.
Jonghyun/Sunny (a bit of Sungmin-Sunny); Romance-Slice of Life, PG ~2,443 words
Beginnings are always adorable.
→ For Diana (happymint), belated happy birthday sissy! Sorry it’s late <3 In first person because it’s been so long since I last written anything in first POV and it gives a real feel to characters.
College is everything I have expected it to be - the clothes, the classes, and the students who are all completely diverse, making the place so much different from high school. The whole place is wide, divided into various departments, and sometimes the rooms are far from each other so you have to make a run for it when that bell rings. With a bunch of three-floored buildings and a couple of other smaller ones, SEU accommodates mainly all of its students with ease with their up-to-date facilities and the friendly staff.
Too friendly sometimes that I get crept out, but I guess it’s because they are paid to be friendly, to be this nice to the students.
“You’re all of the same level, from where you come from or what you were in high school. With scholarship or without - all of you are in SEU because you passed the hardest college assessment exam in the country, and you are all brilliant. No one is above the other here. We’re all equals,” says the dean during the freshmen orientation. Fat chance, that’s not quite true. Seniors, or the upperclassmen will like to push the younger ones around because they have more authority, by age and by level, so way to go dean, of course inequality exists. There is no such thing as fairness in life; there’s always imbalance for everything.
A little girl like me (though already a resident of Seoul for the past eighteen years) who comes from ordinary-nothing-special kind of high school gets easily intimidated by kids with big medals and guns behind them, students from the honor roll with a hundred pages worth of achievements and I’m here, being the nobody who got in by luck, by chance (by fate?) and I have yet to qualify for something bigger.
Like getting into law school, says my father. My parents tell me I should be a lawyer, because I talk back a lot, lie a lot even at home (it’s a vague basis to be honest). They expect me to be very good at everything, like their expectations fall too unreachable, and they will pretend they’re the ones who understand me best and that they know what’s good. “You’ll never regret it!”
Sometimes I actually do, because they don’t know how much I’ve been keeping up the pace since grade school. The pressure just doesn’t go away, yet I’m exactly the type of person (according to Taeyeon) who isn’t going to let my parents down. I mean, no kid does that, right?
Political Science bores me to hell - I honestly don’t know how I will survive the first few weeks. It can be because Lee Sungmin is a couple of seats (5 seats and an aisle) away, or that, because I feel worried I may fail it and that’s a shame considering it’s my major. We don’t want to be kicked out of the draw box for getting into law school, now do we?
“Can you discuss Article III of the constitution to us, Lee Sunkyu?”
I have no idea what Article III contains so I dare not look up to the professor, who for the first time randomly calls a name from his record list. “Lee Sunkyu?”
Now I know Sungmin is looking at me. He knows my name, familiar with it; his affable presence just makes me like him all the more. I raise my hand, shaking off the fear of reciting in front of class (for crying out loud, I should outgrow this! I’m a college student now!) and I stand up when the instructor’s eyes catch me.
“Recite Article III, please?”
“Right, Article III!” I lick my lips, and it tastes like sweet cherry, the lip balm I applied before getting to class. I randomly pull out whatever my memory can bring out and apparently, as I finish off, the professor nods, agrees and requests me to take a seat without furthermore commenting.
I sigh in relief, sinking back into my chair. I have to read the book later just in case this damn prof asks again tomorrow. The hour seemingly goes on and on, like a whirling rollercoaster ride and by the near end of session, we are divided into teams, counting off from the first row to the last student in the back seat. Each group has assignments, which are now written on the board. We will get on with reporting according to our group numbers. I’m in group four, and guess what else is new? Sungmin is too, so I think it is because of fate.
I inch for the vacant seat next to him, a little awkward now as I squeeze myself in with the already decided leader Onew. There are ten of us in the group. I try to hold myself in, listening to the plans and strategy of delivering, the division of reporting and all that stuff. As the piece of paper where all our contact numbers is listed, I write my name just after Sungmin’s. Slowly I put my number, as a part of my brain hastily memorize his.
“We’re going to meet on Sunday at one in the second floor library, okay? We’ll divide the lines and order,” says our leader. “Everyone has to be there, understand?”
“But it’s a Sunday!” whines one.
Onew smiles. “That way, no one’s schedule will be ruined. Because we’ll all be free by then.”
“I might not be able to go...” I then speak up. Onew and I are previously classmates from high school so he shots me a glare and I end up giggling. “Then I’ll cancel. No need to be angry.”
“Eh, Jungshin-ah! You’re coming, okay?” Onew asks the boy in front of him, lazily looking up with a shrug. “And bring your wife!”
“I’m not his wife,” declares the boy beside him, folding his hands together. “I said I’ll go if he goes, that’s all.”
“They’re married and won’t admit it,” Nicole smiles maliciously, and all of us end up laughing our hearts out before the meeting is adjourned, and I then head for home, just as how my everyday goes and not expecting what my tomorrow will be like or the day after that.
Apparently, Sunday comes quickly, and I’m finishing my ice cream over lunch. The school is quieter on weekends, I walk quite unafraid with the cup of unfinished dessert, wandering towards the library floors and checking my phone once in a while if Onew has been leaving notes on postponing the meeting. There is none so I assume we will push through.
12:58 says my watch, the stairwell opening is windy this afternoon as I overlook the field and the main gates. My eyes excitedly bounce off when I finally see the likes of a groupmate walking, one hand inside his pocket, another holding his umbrella.
“Yah! Where are the others?” I call from here as loud as I can, even when the outside of the library has posts of ‘Silence!’ or ‘Keep Quiet’.
He shrugs, hastily climbing up the stairs underneath before I finally see him from head to toe as he advances towards me. He has nice jet-black hair, all touseled and probably conditioned as much; a nice lean body too, and a jawline that will make even Yoona go wow (that girl is too hard to please). Everything about him looks practically nice, and I can’t say so for his attitude since I haven’t ever got the chance to talk to him. Until now.
His name is Jonghyun as I heard, only because I know him as a group mate.
I sit on the floor, crossing my legs and waiting for my phone to beep; any messages are helpful at the moment. Without anymore exchanging a few words and sighs, and complains, he sits next to me, about a meter away, also crossing his legs.
“Aren’t you an early bird?”
I smile a little. “Well, I had to come. I might not get my report.”
“So you and Onew have been classmates back in high school?”
“Yeah, but we’re not that close,” I answer him nonchalantly, unable to look at him at all because the cool atmosphere feels a little strange for the the time. I glance and see him reading his clock as well, both of us waiting as five minutes lapse.
I feel uncomfortable at this sudden awkward silence and it just leads to nothing but trouble so I then say, “Back in high school, we taxed tardiness. And by tax, I mean during group meetings, when one can’t come on time he has to pay 100 won for each minute that he is late.”
He lets out a chuckle. “That’ll be fun.”
“Then let’s tax them,” I say. “It’s already six minutes after one so that makes it six hundred won.”
“I’m getting half of this, right?” he questions and I laugh. The subject dies out once again, and I don’t speak because I feel rather out of place to always be the one breaking walls here. Yet he fails my expectation when he notices what I’m doing to my phone (and I continuously do it since the silence just frightens me). “Why don’t you just throw it by the river if you’re going to end up hammering it on the floor?”
I frown, looking at his phone. It is a better model than mine, prettier and less bulky, with a shiny white shealth. “Right, just because you have that one!”
“You mean this? I don’t use it often -”
“Where the hell are they?!” I say out loud, frustrated because I can’t stand being next to this person for a second more. My Sunday, which is spent mostly at home playing games, watching TV, pranking Dad (you know, life?), ends up on wasted time, and I hate having to waste time this way. Waste time doing at least something, at least talking to someone... I know.
At the corner of my eye, I see him look at his watch, smirking at it. “One thousand seven hundred won.” His voice is gruff, and for some reason I don’t see him as much of a nuisance anymore until he says, “I heard you like singing and playing the guitar.”
I start to laugh out of nowhere, shaking my head. “Where in the world did you get that?”
“Yonghwa told me. He’s my roommate at the dorm,” he answers quite indifferently, unnerved perhaps that I’m suddenly doubting his stalker abilities. Beautifully he tilts his head at an angle so clean, and for a moment his eyes brighten, or it must be the sun now glowing over a few meters through the open window. The wind touches his face and it is the start of autumn.
“Do you know Yonghwa?” He brings himself up and leans against the wall, still looking down at me, his stance like a supermodel with hands down his pockets.
I smile all of a sudden and answer, “Yes, because of -“
“Seohyun,” we chorused, and I instantly blush. What apparently goes on here is something that is out of my control, like something the back of my brain just likes confusing my nervous system into acting all... giddy.
“Yonghwa and I have been friends since kindergarten,” he tells me enthusiastically, and laughs because of a memory I suppose and I begin to involve myself more, nodding and listening intently. Such grace, the way his mouth moves and his words slur - though I know it will be odd for me to be watching the little little things, I do have that tendency. And it brightens my cheek to a crimson, I just know it.
He groans after the nth second of our newly furnished friendship, and looks at his watch. “Seven thousand four hundred! What the hell? Let’s go get them.”
I tilt my head at the last statement. “Get them?”
Jonghyun nods grumpily. “Yes, Nicole lives around there. And Sungmin’s dorm is at the next block.”
Sungmin. He knows where Sungmin lives. “You know where Sungmin is staying?”
“It’s not far from here to be honest,” he just adds. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is agony! They’re going to pay double I swear, it’s been over an hour!”
I shake my head at worry, just a little, because I don’t particularly trust him, even if he is that handsome. It still gives me goosebumps thinking that he knows much more about me than I know of him; and usually that doesn’t happen to me. No guy really tries to get to know me that well, and Jonghyun can be an exception. I want to laugh because this is crazy - this truly is a little out of proportion. Amused, I smile and deny his offer, both of us keeping still and quiet, as his ‘okay-fine-let’s-bore-ourselves-to-death’ fades until finally a girl coming up the staircase cuts up the silence.
Holding our breathes, we both sit up straight. “Hey, Nicole.”
“I didn’t know you were from the same school with Jonghyun.”
“He told you that, O-M-G you!” Nicold rushes and slaps the boy’s shoulder.
“She’s totally like that. She likes denying her roots,” Jonghyun tells me, as though asking for some backup and I both laugh at them, as he cowers from the girl’s irritation. “Sunny-ah, ask her for the -” he props his wrist and counts the minutes. “Eight thousand won.” He calls me Sunny- ah for the first time, that rasp thickness in his voice, the way his deep eyes make a great deal of butterflies flutter wildly inside. It gives you the exact chills you get when you meet your prince charming, your destined one, your knight in shining armor. Although it gets confusing because I don’t want to like him - not at all (because I like to reserve my heart to Lee Sungmin, thank you very much).
Apparently, I notice Nicole gasp, eyes widening. “Eight thousand? What for?”
I scratch my head. “Well, we were here on time. And you guys weren’t. So we’re collecting a hundred won for every minute.”
“What? You agreed to this?” She nearly screams and I nod timidly, smiling as Jonghyun stands beside - somewhat protecting, somewhat shielding me from the accusation. But instead, he points at me, nearly laughing and clapping.
“It was her idea! I swear!”
And that is how, at his words, I realize my heart will have to bend a little, little farther away from Lee Sungmin, the supposed destined prince charming and first love, to this enigmatic child that likes to be free and be on time, and play guitar and sing secretly just like me.