threat of joy | wen junhui

TWO?

TWO, THE MODERN AGE
VITA EAST HIGH

TAKING the backseat of decisions was not Junhui's way of dealing with matters, especially when these matters were simply a gamble of his future and his schedule, quite possibly his present joy, for the time being. The rest of his barely blossoming August seemed to rush past him and it metaphorically swept the rug of his comfort from underneath him.

The cold was inching nearer and nearer.

Today was his first day of the fixed schedule: his prescription to the issues that were merely evinced, or, to him, accused by Stupid Mr. Wesley.

"Hey, Jun," A merengue tinged voice joined him on his walk to the next class, or fate, he was supposed to meet. "How was Econ?"

His response merely resounded in a curt groan as he shivered in his loose-fit sweatshirt. The temperature, he began to recall from the morning news articles, had hit its obnoxious phase of remaining cold only around the night: the cusp of autumn.

"Garbage, Minghao." His reply circled around a murmur.

The latter chuckled, slipping his glasses further up the thin bridge of his nose, as he clapped his best friend on the backside of his neck.

"What do you have for second again? Can't remember if it's Politics or something weird." They pause near the entrance of a hall as Junhui leans against the wall, tossing his head back thus, pronouncing defeat. The very curve of his thyroid gland protruded so sharply, imitating the finest degree in a meniscus, Minghao truly couldn't keep his eyes off.

"It's Space science. Band is after, but dude, this sucks so much. This year is going to be the worst." Junhui whined as the latter pulled out his phone to monitor a few stories on Snapchat. It seemed as if everyone did. A thought arrived to digress his pity party.

"'You're hardly my first!'" He waited for a response of some sort. "'That's-that's what she said!'" The early bell resonated throughout the hall instead of his friend's reply to the reference. "Hao, do you get it? I was quoting The Office."

"I got it." His tone bit Jun uncomfortably. "Anyway, let's go 'cause I'm kinda trying this thing called being on time so I can graduate; I think you should try it." They both chuckled to themselves, speeding across campus. This cued where the greetings would sprout ranging from a simple wave to a mini conversation being transferred from over two feet away from both recipients.

It always threw him off since as far as he knew, Junhui had remained as the rather reticent bean sprout whose head somehow always protruded much higher than most. The growth spurt arrived somewhere around his fourteenth birthday and it particularly affected him not because his feet were suddenly too big for the new Nike's that had been presented as gifts from his aunts but because his girlfriend at the time had broke up with him the night before since apparently, he had looked at a girl in a certain way. Everything always seemed to be his fault.

Of course, instead of having only three classes, Junhui now had to suffer through his punishment of a myriad of seven. It seemed that Mr. Wesley really did hate him.

His classes eased into nothing; by nothing, it only meant that his day continued as it always did, consisting of random kids sucking up to him and just a load of pointless assignments. Minghao wasn't by his side so it just made him feel like he wasn't with his lucky sweater or some talisman, something like that.