Burnout ⊗ Jeongchan

③⑦ Equilibrium

"This is called a crystal lattice."

Jeongin balanced his head on a free hand, the pads of his fingers digging into the headache forming in his temples. As if his fingernails were shovels trying to exhume a forgotten memory that passed away from the boredom of Mr. Park's lecturing. A lecture he might've taken notes on if he was able to concentrate on anything other than the mild ache in his skull building with every scream of the whiteboard marker draining for chemical equations and amateur modeling of atoms no one really cared about. An echo pounded in his ears, something like a muted heartbeat trying to fight back the redness in his eyes.

Should've gone to sleep earlier, his mind lectured him as he gently rubbed at his eyes before turning to the spot leaning against his hand. The crew was swept up in intense games all last night, barely giving him enough time to rest or even blink between the shop, going home with Chan, and having to go back to school the next day. Though, it wasn't unwelcomed, the unfortunate lack of sleep was beginning to bite him. He frowned, Shouldn't have even come here.

He followed Mr. Park with his eyes as he walked from the other end of the board. It was as if he was moving in sludge, a chronostasis and doubling back beginning to set around Jeongin's tired eyes. The teacher droned as he doodled words that Jeongin wasnt able to decipher on the whiteboard, just a collection of lines like the ones on his notebook.

"Ionic bonds..."

It couldn't hurt to close his eyes for a bit. That ebbing headache enveloped his eyelids and pulled them down. The teacher kept on.

"Strong attractions..."

Though he was trying to sleep, the words managed to reach him even in that dark escape. They just keep talking.

"Takes away..."

He tensed his jaw. They don't shut up.

"Mr. Yang" The call of his name jerked him awake. His hand flopped down to the desk as he slouched forward in his seat, heat lightly dusting the tops of his ears from embarrassment as Mr. Park stared him down from the whiteboard, "You need to stop sleeping while I am lecturing."

An apology was already prepared in his head and on his tongue but no matter how much he tried to say it, his throat locked up.

"See me after class," Mr. Park waved the whiteboard marker at Jeongin, briefly catching his attention, before placing it down on the the marker tray he hung off of, "We need to talk."

Jeongin offered a half-hearted nod and slouched back in his seat, hands falling to fiddle in his lap as his head hung low in an attempt to avoid the sudden confrontation. Although he couldn't say his apologies or even beg for forgiveness as he might have once did, he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else either. As if he was sitting in the middle of it all, not quite there, not quite at the start, somewhere where it stung just enough to remember the concerned eyes burning into his head from another place in the classroom was his best friend barely a few weeks ago. Now, what good did it do besides leave his blood pounding in his veins?

Jeongin pursed his lips. None.

For the remainder of the lecture, he sketched images in his notebook; images of snapdragons, rainclouds, canaries, a crown, a jacket, a switchblade, playing cards, whatever his mind had conjured from the fresh memories racking his brain and how none of it made any sense to him beyond the blissful moments and brief happiness he shared with few people.

The bell rang sooner than he guessed. His classmates packing up reached his ears. For a second, he considered joining to leave the classroom without Mr. Park in hopes to avoid their entire conversation only to realize it was hopeless as soon as he spotted Mr. Park sitting at his desk and waiting for him across the way. Jeongin's heart dropped. In an instant he knew, more than anyone else due to his time wandering the halls, if Mr. Park wasn't willing to meet away from his desk, this was not going to end well for him. His tongue felt dry in his mouth. With a hesitant hand, Jeongin slipped the notebook into his book bag, clung to the last few shreds of hope he had, and approached Mr. Park's desk when the other students had cleared.