pretty boy | taekook

piano

chapter four ;; piano
jeongguk's perspective
°☆.。.:*・°☆

I would ultimately be lying to myself if I said that my face didn't go completely red when I saw the brown haired boy standing in front of me, arm stretched out and a square smile on his face. He looked intimidating, even with his face holding only kindness. It still scared me. Greatly. He continued to talk to me, hand outstretched, but I only blocked out his words before standing up and walking away. I had much more important things to do than create a highly potential conversation filled with awkwardness and shuffling feet. It's not like I'd hold my bargain of talking very much anyways.

The halls had finally cleared out, leaving me in a comfortable silence with the exception of a few teachers chatting here and there and small clusters of students out in the front field on their way home. One face stood out amongst them, and it made me slightly annoyed just by looking at his face. The boy that tried to trip me over complains while another tugs at his hand, "Seokjin," He whines, "I don't wanna see Namjoon and Taehyung practice. It'll be boring."

The latter boy prevails, tugging him along while saying, "Yoongi will be there." In a persuasive voice, already seeming to know that the sentence will convince the other.

"...Fine." He mumbles, letting his friend drag him along with a smile on his face for winning the battle.

Out of curiosity, I take out one of my headphones and watch them rush through a set of doors. I slowly draw down my hood, lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. In a heap of eagerness to see what the one was so excited to watch, I walk to their direction. Their figures were practically unable to be seen as I follow them down an extremely long corridor.

I'd always hear stories of people dying in the pool and in the bathrooms, and right now I was ultimately convinced that the school was haunted as the lights continue to flicker above my head. Maybe they were going to some kind of cult where their friends, Namjoon and Taehyung, would be sacrificed to their beloved Satan. You never know what could go on in this school.

I was sadly disappointed as I began to realize that there wasn't going to be any cult or blood sacrifice but rather a boring football practice. I never got the concept of football. Yes, it looked awfully difficult, having to run while knowing where an egg shaped ball is being chucked. Gym class had made us play once or twice, but I had an excuse every time to sit out while watching girls and guys fumble, trip, and fall.

Maybe it would have helped if they tied their shoes and stopped talking so much. I felt bad but ultimately chuckled when seeing an extremely prissy girl get rammed in the face with a ball. Poor girl didn't even see the it coming, she was so distracted by watching the guys stretch and play. I couldn't blame her for being distracted, some guys looked exceptionally attractive while warming up.

As I access the area behind the gate, looking over towards a group of boys before deciding to take a seat as far away from most as possible. Briskly, my eyes picked out the two from earlier, both of them with their arms around others. It made me miss Jimin, wanting company from another person that I knew and almost trusted. The only one. Everyone else was a face with a blank voice and personality.

I go back to staring at the field in hopes of suffocating the spiraling thoughts. I'd been here for almost three years, and I hadn't watched any sport involving our school teams. My attention was never sparked until seeing the pair of prominent personalities, a scene which made me envy the comfortable nature around them.

At that moment, 5 pairs of eyes gain my peripheral vision's attention, the idiots believing I'm oblivious. Their lips moved in shushed sentences. Yes, my headphones were put in, but the music was turned off. I couldn't make out words but I could hear tone: crestfallen and concerned. They all found pity in my small hunched frame, and embarrassment pushes her hands down on my swooping gut. My small lips tighten into a small line as I continue to closely listen. Someone says my name, and I instantly know who it is.