Two Faces

Chapter 2

I stayed alone in the tutoring room, hands resting on the desk, eyes fixed on the faint chalk marks stretching out like faded shadows. A strange silence lingered around me, amplifying the weight pressing on my chest since the session with Mark and Haechan. I think I've developed this habit, feeling a little hollow after moments spent with them. Maybe it's because Mark, with his gentle smiles and patient questions, gives me a glimpse of a closeness that still eludes me. And Haechan... Haechan has this gaze that scrutinizes me, almost dissects me, as if he sees every fragment of insecurity hidden within.

I let out a sigh and begin to pack up my things when I suddenly sense a presence behind me. Turning around, I see Jaemin, leaning against the door frame. Jaemin... He exudes a natural ease, a kind of quiet charisma that disarms me immediately. His gaze, though, is different from the others. It's soft, almost kind, which catches me off guard.

"I've seen you here a few times," he says as he steps closer, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You're giving lessons?"

I nod, still a bit surprised by his attention.

"Yes, mostly to stay... occupied." My voice comes out more hesitant than I'd intended. Jaemin continues to watch me, as if trying to read beyond my words. It's strange, talking to someone like him. He doesn't give off any coldness, any distance.

He nods thoughtfully, then adds, in a slightly conspiratorial tone:

"It's good, sometimes, to keep your hands busy. Especially in a place like this, where everyone seems constantly..." He leaves the sentence hanging, as if he knows I'll understand. And I do. This place, its immaculate corridors, the bursts of laughter, the coded conversations... Everything always feels slightly out of sync for me, like a scene I don't really belong to.

Jaemin sits down next to me, casually pulling out a notebook.

"Would you mind showing me what you're working on? I've been looking for someone to help me with these courses for a while," he says, his eyes shining with sincere curiosity. I look at him, a bit taken aback by his ease, by the way he seems to assume this closeness is natural. So, without much thought, I show him a few exercises. And for the first time, perhaps, I feel a weight lift within me. He listens, asks questions, and I realize there's something different in this interaction—a lack of judgment, a kind of unexpected warmth.

Just as I finish explaining, the door opens again. My heart skips a beat. I instantly recognize that assured walk, that piercing gaze: Jaehyun, one of the respected mentors on campus. He pauses when he sees me, then his eyes shift to Jaemin with an unreadable expression. Jaehyun inspires almost automatic respect, and though I've never interacted with him, I've always felt a mix of fear and admiration when passing him in the halls.

He looks pointedly at Jaemin, then at me, as if taking a moment to assess the situation before speaking.

"Jaemin, I didn't know you were here. Still as curious as ever, I see," he says in a calm, almost amused voice. Then, his attention shifts to me, and a shiver runs down my spine.

"You must be Renjun," he adds without breaking eye contact. "I've heard about you."

Those words unsettle me. What could he have heard? I don't do anything to draw attention; I blend into the background with care. But Jaehyun's gaze remains fixed on me, penetrating, as if he can perceive truths I don't even know about myself.

I feel that something has shifted, an invisible thread has tightened, connecting our lives in a way I don't yet understand.

After Jaemin and Jaehyun leave, I sit there, frozen by their words, as if each one had left an imprint on my skin. "I've heard about you." That phrase echoes in my mind. I don't know what Jaehyun might have heard, or what he perceived about me. But it obsesses me, and I can't shake it, like a persistent melody that keeps returning. I was so disturbed by Jaehyun's comment that I didn't even pay attention to what they were saying as they left.