Simple | IM JAEBUM

vii.

Media and Visual Arts that Monday turned into a rotation of reading Jackson's actions and words, mustering enough civility in her tone as they discussed the project in detail—so no one would think she held a grudge against anybody and slow everything down— and doing breathing exercises anyway to keep her heart rate relatively stable.

She checked in with Namjoon, unsurprised to learn the exchange program remained untouched.

*

Insik wasn't fond of anything like Art Expo and Incorporation, which was how Seonjae knew today was going to be a good day.

She found Jaebum fulfilling, in regards to professionalism. While her best friend, Yugyeom, and Bambam suffered the performance task, she somehow fell into comfortable conversation with him about music, that Seonjae found she would be unsurprised if they collaborated in the near future. That possibility was certainly preferable over Haein.

Haein, who as it turns out, had been telling the truth. PD-nim gave her crap for 'misbehavior' by scolding; the most abhorrent form of penalty or punishment to ever exist. She knew she got off easy, whether by being his sunbae's granddaughter or some other unspeakable reason. Arranging a time and place was nothing short of mortifying.

"What about Haein-ssi?" Her body locked up, forcing her to incline her head at Jaebum. "How is your collaboration going with her?"

She didn't want to know how he learned about it; only that it meant the other boys weren't in the dark as well. "We're going to meet at Han River this Wednesday and see where we go from there. Maybe get inspired along the way."

Jaebum nodded his understanding. "Is she any good?"

Red began to line the corners of her vision. "She got accepted here, didn't she?"

And that was left to that.

*

Lunch, at least, was a reprieve, with two people from her music production team dropping by to visit. Bambam and Mark, sitting across them, tried not to seem too out of place, which Seonjae found commendable, if not a bit embarrassing.

"I like how ironic the lyrics are," Minsun said, her blonde hair shining under the fluorescent and the sunlight spearing through the floor to ceiling windows. "You're the least optimistic person I know."

Seonjae smacked her in the arm, entirely aware of the glance Bambam and Mark shared. At her left, a yelp. "Do not mess around!"

Minsun's jaw slackened dramatically. "You're the nastiest out of all of us!"

Chanhyeok grinned, putting a finger on his lips. The laugh that flitted out of Seonjae was not faked.

*

There was a crowd gathered at the closest exit, but Seonjae's energy to care was drained in P.E. by Jackson's and Insik's storytelling. Mark and Jaebum, she didn't half mind—in fact, she savored the coolness and stability they represented, but even that could only go so far when Jackson was excited.

While the boys had to practice for the welcome performances at the Den, Seonjae needed to rehearse for her debut stage. It was partly the reason why Minsun and Chanhyeok stopped by; to check on her and Insik, now that she wouldn't be a faceless idol anymore and he would be known as an independent dancer.

She couldn't exactly do that with a large throng of people blocking the gates, now can she?

"Not this way," Insik said. "Let's just find the closest exit immediately."

Seonjae raised her eyebrows in question, glancing at the incline of his body—like he was anxious to leave. She would've trailed after him if she hadn't noticed Jackson's attention fixed on the center of the commotion. So she looked

And regretted it, because the vibrant, eye-catching orange color of Park Seonghun's hair did not match the soft, pitiful expression on his face as he scanned the crowd. There was no need to hazard a guess; another consistent thing about him alongside his manipulative, deceitful attitude was his memory. He would recognize her, as easily and quickly as she had recognized him.

Seonjae suddenly wanted to bomb the entire area. She wanted their screams, his screams, to match the roaring that filled her ears.

There was a light pressure on her head, and her vision obscured at the top, Insik's arm returning across her shoulders to lead her away. Three sets of heavy footsteps told her the other boys followed.

Seonjae raised her hand and felt for—a cap. Something cold licked up her spine.

We are here.

Jackson's face was set in a hard scowl, his hair freed and bending in the breeze.