𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚 ☾︎ minsung

C H P - 1

WARNING: There will more than likely be side couples. If you have a problem with that, or if you decide to make a problem in the comment section, your comment will be deleted.

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"Hahaha!"

The deafening laughs reverberated around him, hollowing out his mind with a sense of unbearable embarrassment. 

Minho pursed his lips, clenching his fists as tightly as he could, trying to keep from blowing his top off. And speaking of tops, the school uniform he had just had dry-cleaned was now covered in globs of red slime; from the looks of it, it was some kind of jello. "Jisung," he murmured through clenched teeth, his eyes aflame with rage. He was seething now.

Han Jisung, the one responsible for this whole mess, looked up at him through his lashes, doubled over in laughter. He found this image--Lee Minho covered in slime, face reddened with anger--absolutely hilarious, a bit endearing even, but no one quite knew that; in fact, no one had any semblance of an idea as to why he always chose Minho to be the butt of his pranks. See, that's who Han Jisung was--he was the school prankster, the trouble maker that could never quite be caught--and Minho was his prank-ee.

The one problem with this was that Minho didn't find his little stunts amusing. If he was being honest, they annoyed him more than anything else in the world, and on most occasions, he had to walk away just to keep from punching that cheeky prankster straight in the jaw.

Their relationship, or rather lack thereof, had been like this since their first year of middle school and had continued until now--their senior year. Minho was at his wits end, and as he stood there, encumbered by globs of red jello, he knew it was time to get Han Jisung back. He was tired of this--so tired. He could no longer hold back the anger that had built up throughout the years. It was time to unleash it at full capacity. 

"Sorry," Jisung finally giggled, though it was plainly obvious he was not sorry in the least. He straightened himself out, still shaking with chuckles, and winked. "'Till next time."

"Oh, yes," Minho grumbled beneath his breath, glaring down at what used to be his favorite pair of white shoes. No one could hear his words over the sound of their own obnoxious laughter. "'Till next time."

And that was a terrifying promise.

----

Minho sat motionlessly on the couch, his knees pulled to his chest, his favorite baby blue blanket draped lifelessly over his shoulders. He watched the television intently, so intently that he could have passed as a statue. Playing on the screen before him was the movie Ten Things I Hate About You--the third film he had turned on in his binging session. He was picking apart every little detail he could, molding them and turning them over in his mind, creating a plan. 

A plan for Han Jisung--pathetic Mr. Prankster.

The main character teared up at the news that had been revealed to her, and his eyes flashed strategically.

Now, that...

He narrowed his eyes at the beautiful actress on screen.

That was a plan.

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"Hyunjun, I have it. I have a plan."