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"Come on, dude, I'm your best friend! You can tell me anything, you know that!" Dillon whines. "Besides, it's my house you're crashing at!"
"I know, I know," Jeong-Soon mumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Dude, I can't tell you. I'm sorry." His face feels hot, too hot, burning with the remnants of anger---at himself, at Gregory Gan, at his sister. Especially his sister, for her unwanted interference, for stealing so many what-ifs and could-have-beens.
Gregory and I could have had a future together. She took all that from us, and now we're left with nothing.
But he can't tell Dillon that. He can't tell Dillon anything about what's been happening, despite him being his best friend.
"Come on, dude," Dillon presses. Curious. Too curious. Jeong-Soon's fingers find the edge of his t-shirt---rumpled from being caught in the rain the day before. He's still wearing the same clothes, since Dillon's wardrobe is too small to fit him. He tugs at the fabric nervously, nails feverishly wrinkling the thin cotton. "It can't be that bad, right? Did you have a fight with your sister?"
Jeong-Soon allows the part of his brain that always overthinks to take over, running his answer through a sieve, filtering out any mention of Gregory or the screaming match they'd had in the pouring rain. "You could say that," he manages. Then, afraid of sounding unconvincing, he tacks on, "A bad fight. Like, really bad."
"Ooohhh, what was it about?" Dillon asks, and Jeong-Soon begins to wish he'd crashed at Mia's or Sully's or literally anyone else's house instead.
"Stuff."
"How detailed." Dillon rolls his eyes playfully. "What kind of stuff?"
"How did the date with Lana Delgado go?" Jeong-Soon interjects swiftly. He heaves a sigh of relief when Dillon's face instantly brightens, countenance almost rivalling the sun. His best friend grins, bunny teeth poking out in obvious elation.
