my hand holding yours... Idol ff

#1: Jerk

Chapter One: "Jerk."
Wonyoung's POV

"You're probably the first one in history to celebrate your graduation this big." I commented as I neared the end of Jeongwoo's graduation clip.

Our graduation was just yesterday and the video was already out. The editors and crew really worked a fast one. The captions were still well-thought and the work put into it did not give away that it was done within such short duration.

While Starship had not interfered in my graduation, YG went all out as though Jeongwoo's graduation was his wedding. Banners, wreaths, change in cafeteria menu, a large camera crew and direction just because their second youngest was graduating highschool. Even the large screens that usually screened their artist MVs, now showed slideshows of him from young to now.

Jeongwoo walked over and settled down next to me. "Stop watching and tell me what you want to eat. I'm going to call for a delivery."

I put my phone down at his words. "Pizza?"

"Didn't you eat pizza two days ago? I saw your Instagram update."

"How about you cook for me?" I grinned up at him but he shot me down.

"No."

"Aw why?" I whined.

Jeongwoo's cooking skills are literal gold. I could eat the food he makes my entire life and I'll never be sick of it. The only problem was we were too busy to be able to do it as much as I'd like.

He sighed, "I'm tired Wonnie. Another day please?"

"Fine," I drawled, letting him off the hook before exclaiming, "Chicken then!"

"Tiger chicken?" He said knowingly and I snapped my fingers in excitement.

"You know it!"

He chuckled at my antics as he stood back up to get his phone on the table while I sunk further into his sofa, finishing up the video.

I was currently in Jeongwoo's apartment lounging around from the moment I came here. Since we could not spend our graduation together, we decided to get dinner together in the comfort and privacy of his home. Even though the public had no idea, he was my best friend. Of course, we had to celebrate together even if it was just eating delivery food in our sweatpants.

"Wonyoung!" He called me after a few minutes and I begrudgingly got up to see what he needed me for.

I dropped my phone on the sofa before walking in the direction of his voice. As I entered his neat and spacious room where he was shrugging on a jacket over his plain white shirt, I asked, "You going somewhere?"

He nodded, "The restaurant. Their delivery services are suspended because they are understaffed today. You want to come along?"

"Can I not?" I gave him a pout and he chuckled.

"Of course, lock the door and stay inside then. I'll be back soon. If anyone rings the doorbell, don't open it. Wait until I'm back."

"I know, I know." I dismissed as I pushed him out the bedroom. "I'm not a kid."

"Just making sure," he said as he slipped into his shoes. "You want anything else? I can stop by the store if you do."

I shook my head. "No, just be quick."

"I will," he promised and with that, he exited the apartment, the door locking behind him.

As he left, I wandered into the kitchen. He'd give me a lecture if I was getting a snack right before dinner but he didn't have to know. I opened up the first cabinet and as I expected four boxes of pop-tarts lined the front - chocolate, strawberry, blueberry and my ultimate favourite marshmallow.