𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ⨾ vernon

02.2 | 𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁

Wonwoo is a foolish boy. He's so wasted he can't even get up. He had never looked at any girl the way he had looked at Yeonhee, the way he had felt about her, and it hurts that now he can't see her anymore. Not in the way that he used to.

The camera closes up to him, angling itself where it feels like he's devastated. The neon lights in the booth arc lines on his face, reflecting on the tear drops falling.

Everything is exaggerated in this scene.

Near to him, the girls sleep soundly and one of them makes purring noises. He has disgusted himself enough for tonight. The break-up was worse than him receiving marks lower than his parents' expectations for the SATs. He wipes at his jeans jacket and pulls out his cellphone from a pocket.

16% charge, it says. He sighs and makes way to call the only person he can think of right now.

Sanghee, his cousin. The universe has made him forget that she's his ex-girlfriend's best friend, too. (Or as we know, ex-girlfriend's ex-best-friend.) But even if he remembers, he won't stop himself from calling her.

The lights flicker on his sad, beautiful, wet face, again, as he pushes up the phone to his ears.

Considering the time, he lets go when Sanghee doesn't pick up. He can't call Seungkwan right now since he already bragged about the girls to him. Hell, he even sent a drunk message about the break up but thank god he could delete it before the message got marked blue. He is so foolish that he doesn't know messages can be read from the Lock Screen, too. He does it every single time.

So he texts Hansol, the guy who tries to hide himself all the time. Whether it be high school, or cram school. Hansol never judges, so Wonwoo finds him safe.

After he has sent the message to him, Wonwoo relaxes in his seat, stretching out his legs and steeling his fingers.

The night has been long. He has no idea what will happen at school tomorrow. He doesn't want to go back.

He swims in his thoughts, doing some over-thinking and over-panicking. Yeonhee. Yeonhee. Yeonhee. Why?

His phone is about to die when he gets a call.

Sanghee, his cousin, is calling back. The screenwriter has made him forget that she's an insomniac. (Or, as we know, she's probably over-thinking about Yeonhee, too.) But even if he remembers, he won't stop himself from picking up her call.

"Hello? Jeon Wonwoo?" Sanghee waits for his voice to join the conversation, but he doesn't speak.

Sanghee knows, so she doesn't speak for a while either.

"My fucking phone is going to die, too. Everybody just leaves me and goes around selling paintings. I hate myself. Come save me, Pretty Girl." Wonwoo's voice, when finally joins hers, she is beyond speechless. Wonwoo is beyond dramatic.

She thinks, seven years.

Wonwoo can hear shuffling at the other end of the phone call, as he sits up, waiting for the device to give up.

"Where are you?" she asks him.

He doesn't need to remember that he can still telepathically communicate with his cousin. Sanghee has always been the frustrated caretaker of her friends. There's no one else who can play a better side character.

"Karaoke. Near Hansol's house, do you know him?"

"Who?" Sanghee's voice is distant as Wonwoo hears a door getting locked. Sanghee is coming for his rescue. He sighs in relief.

"Remember the guy who re-transferred to school last year? From USA? The biracial guy?" Wonwoo expects all of his supportive characters to have a basic understanding about themselves. But somehow, Sanghee has no idea about the guy who re-transferred to school last year. From USA. The biracial guy.

"I have no idea who you're talking about. Can't you just text me the address?"

So Wonwoo texts her the address to the noraebang as soon as she ends the call and then, his phone dies.

He leaves out a whimper and expects Yeonhee to come by instead of her best friend. Or as we already know, ex-best-friend.