A PLAN FOR LOVE ✓

twenty : beomgyu

“Okay. Step two: dress to impress. Now that you got his number, you’ve gotta get all of”—he motions vaguely at my clothes—“that together.”

“Yeonjun, shouldn’t this step have come before step one? I mean, shouldn’t I have been dressing better before I got his number? So I could make a good impression right from the start?” I ask, following my hunch that he’s just making stuff up as he goes here. Not that I can really complain too much. I mean… it’s working. Isn’t it?

“Okay, first of all… I didn’t know how bad the wardrobe situation was until I saw you wear the same plain T-shirt in three different colors.” That’s a fair point. “And second, I wanted you to get his number just as you are. If he gave it to you dressed like that, just think about the possibilities when we get you put together a little better.” He pauses, flinching at himself. “No offense.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. It’s not so bad,” I say.

“Beomgyu—and I’m saying this as a friend—I’m truly terrified to open that closet door.…” He looks me up and down.

“Fine,” I reply with a huff. We might as well get this over with. He steps past me to stand in front of it.

“You have Taehyun’s number now. We have to get this nailed down, because step three is coming and you are not ready,” he tells me. I don’t even bother asking what step three is, because I know he won’t tell me.

Also, I don’t just have Taehyun’s number. I’ve been using it. After I replied to him at hyung’s place, when Yeonjun told me not to, we talked on and off for the rest of the day. I decide not to say anything to Yeonjun, because, to be honest, I’m a little scared to tell him that I went rogue. Plus, I’ve got enough on my plate today with step two.

“Let’s see what we’re working with.” He pulls open the door to my closet. “Organized,” he says more to himself than to me, then immediately starts tearing through it like a category 5 hurricane.

“Beomgyu!” he yells, feigning a posh English accent. “How many sweatpants does one guy need!?” He whirls around and holds a stack of what I call my “weekend lounge pants” out to me but drops them straight onto the floor with the rest of my clothes before I can grab them. His hands immediately grab for more hangers, but when I don’t laugh, he peeks over his shoulder at me, dropping the crappy accent. “That was Tan from Queer Eye.”

“Yeah, I don’t live under a rock.” I scoot to the edge of my bed, looking at all the destruction he’s caused in the few minutes he’s been in my dorm room. “But do you have to throw everything on the floor?” I ask. My skin is prickling just looking at the chaos.

But as I watch him, I start to realize maybe this isn’t a bad thing after all. It just means that I’ll have to clean up later. And maybe while I’m at it, I’ll just do a full-on room reorganization. Taehyun would probably laugh if I told him that. Last night he texted me that Huening Kai has been leaving his bowls of unfinished oatmeal on their coffee table every morning and it’s been driving him.nuts. Yet another thing we have in common.

Yeonjun holds up shirt after shirt, criticizing each one before tossing it behind him. He gives me a judgmental look and drops them onto the floor with everything else before digging right back in.

“Dude. What is all this shit? I’ve never even seen you wear any of it.” He looks down at my simple olive-green T-shirt and blue jeans.

“Well, you’ve only known me for a couple of weeks, so…” I shrug.

“You’re right. So why is it that I’ve seen you in that shirt four times already?” he asks.

I sigh, looking down at my shirt, one of the few articles of clothing I actually feel comfortable in. I reach down to pick up a sweater off the floor that I haven’t touched for an entire year. “I guess I don’t wear most of this. I’m just not very good at finding stuff I like,” I admit.