FADED | YOON JEONGHAN and JOSHUA HONG

{2} CROSSING LINES

"Sometimes, the truth cuts deeper than the lies we tell ourselves."

JOSHUA HONG POV

Finals were finally over, and all I could think about was graduation. 

College. 

A fresh start. 

A life without Ara lingering in my thoughts, and a chance to leave behind years of silently pining for someone who never looked at me the way I'd hoped. 

This was my moment to move on, to get away from high school memories—and certain people I didn't want to be around anymore.

Just as I closed my locker, feeling the satisfaction of an empty bag ready for a summer away from all this, I caught a glimpse of her. 

Iseul. 

Great. 

God must seriously hate me. 

Couldn't I just get one moment of peace?

"Oh, fantastic," I muttered under my breath. "Just what I needed to make this day perfect."

Iseul strode past, the usual disdain on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye like I was an annoying pest. 

And maybe I was, but I couldn't resist.

"Hey, lover boy," she called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave me that infuriating smirk. "Still hung up on Ara? You know, she's not going to suddenly fall for you just because you're walking around with that sad puppy look on your face."

I rolled my eyes, leaning against my locker with a smug grin. "Please, as if I need relationship advice from you. You might want to focus on getting over whatever imaginary crush you've been nursing since middle school."

Her smile faltered for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. "Maybe I would—if you weren't so obsessed with Ara. Ever consider giving up?"

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Iseul," I shot back, enjoying the way her face tensed. "Some things are out of your league."

She huffed, slamming her locker shut and gathering her things in a hurry, clearly done with our argument. "As if I care what you think," she muttered, stalking off down the hallway. 

Just as she turned the corner, I noticed something fall from her books, a small, worn journal that landed with a soft thud on the floor.

I picked it up, a grin spreading across my face. 

I could already imagine her face when she realized I had it. 

And if she didn't know... well, maybe I'd get a little peek at what made her so self-righteous all the time.

That night, back in my room, I couldn't resist. I opened the journal, flipping through random pages. Most of it was nonsense, little sketches, lists of homework, and scraps of thoughts.