threat of joy | wen junhui

THREE?

THREE, ALONE, TOGETHER
VITA EAST HIGH

ABOUT twenty minutes had to be wasted from Junhui crabbing rhythms under a song's measures. Apparently, little Shannon, or Sungyeon Bae, as she always nagged him for the rightful correction of her name, had been having issues lately with her solo in the new piece that their director had assigned for them. This was his peer facilitation period, which typically provided about fifty seven minutes of verbal nothingness, but for today, Sungyeon filled in the gap.

"—one, e, and, a... Okay, Bae, that's it," Junhui finally craned his neck back, looking at the space where his sophomore friend was supposed to be. "Shann-insky?" He called out, standing up from his desk chair to look around but met her screech instead.

"Finally, you're done." She huffed, swapping her hair part as quickly as she did with her flee from the dots during band camp but only at the end of the day. Junhui couldn't help but often see her as the counterclockwise version of his elder sister, Feng: the pretty brunette living in Toronto. The hairpin curve of her cheeks propelled him back to a different age, too.

Nonetheless, Sungyeon made him miss Feng less.

"Why Shann-insky?" She posed flatly, arching an eyebrow as she skimmed her eyes over the music rather than her friend. "Because Stravinsky."

Sam, the brunette to his right, let out a dry snicker at something on her phone, earning spiteful side glances from the two of them: the only instance, within the half hour duration, that the latter moved her eyes from the piece. Finally, she approved with a nod, humming half a beat late for the resolve.

"Looks good," Sungyeon met Jun's tourmaline eyes. "Thank you for this, as well as making me, like, thirty minutes late. I'll see you later, Jun." She gave half a dimpled smile, tapping his knuckles with the bundle of the sheets before trudging off.

"Have a good day, Shannon!" Junhui exclaimed with an endearing, little grin, which grew when she turned, ran her thumb across her throat, and continued her leave. "It's Sungyeon, you asparagus!"

Sam's stifled laughter cued once she fully exited the branch of the school. The only other noises drowned out with his sigh.

"This class is so boring but at least, I get to do nothing." Her abrupt comment surprised him since she only ever spoke to her own race, excluding the hot mixed football players.

"It's alright for me. We get credit for apparently, aiding the school." He replied, swiveling to her angle, deciding now to stretch his hands to his head so he could pop the stiff musculoskeletal area near his cranium. Sam cringed at his actions.

"God, doesn't that hurt?" Her low tone voice stuck out to him rather than her feigned concern.

"A little," he leaned his rather sore forearm on the desk, sneaking a flirtatious beam towards the passerby chem teachers. "I've just been sitting like this for as long as I know. Nice to move every now and then."

The lighting reached only past their shadows as the walls of the hall were replaced with glass, allowing a transparent view to the world around them. Sam flourished in her verderous blouse, along with her dangling jewelry, but with the windows, she was bathed in beige, buzzing on her phone and bubbling through the words she chose. Junhui saw his hands in the lightest shade of sepia and noticed the veins that treaded upon them imitated mountain ranges.