Work Text:
Park Seonghwa did not have a bad life. He was living comfortably thanks to an inheritance from a rich uncle who apparently adored him when he was a kid (Seonghwa did not remember him the slightest). He worked as a kindergarten teacher, which was a bit of a hassle at time, but the kids were cute, so he kept doing it despite actually not needing the money.
No, truly, Park Seonghwa had everything to be happy. That’s where the catch is. Park Seonghwa was not happy. At this point, he felt like he had tried everything. He had tried not working, but it did nothing besides letting him stay in bed all day, thinking about how useless and worthless he is. He did try to have hobbies, but as soon as he did not have any obligation to do something, he ended up giving up. After a year of brooding in his bed, he decided to go back to work. At least, he sometimes had the gratification of seeing a kid succeeding at doing something new.
He had tried going out and make some friends, but after some very awkward encounters, his anxiety would not let him out of the house. He went to a therapist, but it did not seem to do much beside reminding him how fucking lonely he was. Well, at least, he had some meds to make his thoughts quiet a little bit. They weren’t screaming so much anymore, more talking very loudly. So much of an improvement.
Park Seonghwa had tried many, many things, but it just seemed that he was not made to be happy.
“What are you talking about again? I’ve been telling you for years you deserve to be happy, do I have to force it into your brain again?”
Park Seonghwa frowns to the void.
“I don’t see how me deserving to be happy or something has anything to do with me being able to be happy. You literally make zero sense right now.”
Kim Hongjoong sighs to the nothingness.
“You are playing dumb. You know what I mean. Also, do you intend of talking about me to your therapist any time soon or am I like. Your dirty secret.”
Park Seonghwa rolls his eyes to the void.
“She’ll want to take you away from me. I’m lonely enough like that, I’d like it better if I don’t lose you as well. And I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I know you’re not real. You’re just my moral support, which is a good thing, right?”
“If you are not doing anything wrong, your therapist will not tell you to let me go, will she?”
Hongjoong does have a point, but they have had this conversation a hundred times already, and Seonghwa does not want to listen. The fear churning at his guts is way too strong. Somehow, he just knows that if Hongjoong is gone, he will not have anything keeping him from jumping down the building anymore.
Actually, Seonghwa thinks idly on his way to work, maybe saying he isn’t happy is a bit of an understatement. He does not know if “have been wanting to end his pitiful life for the last 15 years” fits into the “not happy” category. Sometimes, Seonghwa is pretty amazed at the fact he is still alive. He definitely would not have bet on that when he was fifteen (but well, when he was fifteen, he did not expect to become lowkey rich, so you can never know what to expect from life, right?)
Actually, Seonghwa thinks idly on his way to work, he is tired. He is so very tired. The kind of tired that sleep does not help. The kind of tired that makes you want to never wake up again.
Actually, Seonghwa thinks idly on his way to work, he has no idea why he is doing all that besides a complete dislike of the idea. Suicide sounds terribly lame. He has been hoping to get into a deadly accident for years now, but he does not seem to have the right amount of chance for that.
Actually, Seonghwa thinks idly on his way to work, he would really like if he could stop thinking idly at all.
There are a few life-long characteristics about Park Seonghwa. One of them is the fact that he is helplessly depressed. Another is his taste for dramatics. Therefore, if he has to organize his own death, he would rather make it at least a little bit impressive. He has the money after all.
It hits him at night. He had been looking at the ceiling for an hour, before desperation gets him, much deeper than it usually does. “I can’t take this anymore”, he thinks, blinking at the ceiling, wondering if Hongjoong is going to stop his trail of thoughts. He does not, so Seonghwa indulges.
“I could make my death great. Like one from a movie. I could hire someone to threaten people, and then offer myself as a sacrifice.” Seonghwa ponders the idea before changing his mind. “No, that would be traumatic for them. That wouldn’t be nice. Car accidents are boring. A hitman maybe... At least, someone would care about me, somehow.” Seonghwa snorts. “A hitman sounds good actually. That’s a plan.”
The day after is a Saturday, so Seonghwa is free from work and he has time to refine his Plan™. There are a few important points:
- The hitman cannot know he is calling his own murder, or that would be plain pathetic.
- The murder has to happen soon enough, because Seonghwa cannot guarantee that he will not choose an easier way to go if the hitman doesn’t hurry.
- Even if Seonghwa has money, it is limited after all, so he will have to take some risks and get a less-known one.
- Seonghwa has absolutely no idea of how the fuck you can book a hitman nor the kind of price they have.
After many wanderings, many pictures and words he would like to forget now and forever, Park Seonghwa ends up on some sort of hitman profile. To be fair, the Dark Web is not really a place for his kin (an innocent, soft-hearted kindergarten teacher). Yet, here he is, after refraining from closing the window every few seconds. All considered, he had been doing fine when he did not see the hell that was this place. But he had gone too far, struggled too much to turn back at this point.
The profile reads Choi San, lists some qualities (“rapid and spotless work, able to adapt to unpredictable situations”), and the only other thing on the web page is a contact link. Seonghwa is not sure he wants to click it, but he does anyway. He writes a message as clear as possible, trying to hide that he has absolutely no idea what he is doing. He sends it, and goes for a walk to try and calm his nerves.
Choi San does not look like a hitman on the outside, as he is a self-declared angel. At least, he does not believe he looks like a hitman. Probably. Maybe it is because he is quite new to the whole business (he is only 27 after all), and he is not used to wearing his cold work-face all the time yet.
According to Choi San, being a hitman sucks sometimes. It especially does when he comes home covered in blood at 3:30 in the morning, and his boyfriend and his partner are both sleeping peacefully and nobody is there to wash his hair for him. That really sucks.
But the job does pay well, he believes he is quite good at it, and for now, nobody has tasked him to kill a child so he is doing fine. If you asked Choi San why he is doing this kind of work, he would not be sure what to answer. It’s just that when Wooyoung joked about being partners in literal crime a few years ago, when they were broke and threatened to be thrown on the street, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Well, not that much of a bad idea.
“San-ah,” Yeosang calls from his room. “Someone sent a request. It’s a bit weird though.”
San gets up from the couch, where he was lazily watching some drama he had missed half episodes of, to join Yeosang.
“Weird? Aren’t all requests weird?”
Yeosang shrugs. “I don’t know. The vibe is a bit off. They offer a bunch of money to kill some kindergarten teacher, as long as you don’t ask questions. Doesn’t want to give their identity, but offers to pay half their price before the job is done.”
San reads the message over Yeosang’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “To be honest, I’ve accepted missions that were much weirder than that one.”
“I know but... If you accept it, be careful, okay?”
San smiles softly and presses Yeosang’s nape comfortingly. “I will. Don’t worry. Love you too.”
Yeosang dodges the kiss San tries to plant on his cheek and screams in outrage.
“Seonghwa. What are you doing?”
“Like, right now, or in general?”
To answer both questions, right now, Seonghwa was lying in bed, and in general, he had no fucking idea.
“Seonghwa.”
To be honest, Seonghwa feels like he’s gone a bit too far to be reasoned by his own mind now. Hongjoong should have spoken up earlier, before Seonghwa sent a message to a hitman. Now, the contract has been accepted, the money has been sent, and Seonghwa is waiting for his death. Which should hopefully come fast.
Seonghwa sighs into his pillow. “It’s too late now.”
Hongjoong is gone.
As Seonghwa goes on with his life, Hongjoong does not show up again. “Good riddance,” Seonghwa thinks, trying to bury down the crushing loneliness he feels. It’s not like he needs him anymore, if he’s going to die soon. Seonghwa does not go to his therapist appointment, and she does not call him to know why.
Choi San is there, at the café down his building, when Seonghwa gets there to pretend that he feels happier with an overly-sugary drink in his hands. His first instinct is to hide before he remembers that:
- That would be very suspicious.
- He is not supposed to know who Choi San is, like all the other people that are peacefully sitting there.
- His very first goal implies that Choi San has to notice him (much more practical to learn someone’s patterns and habits so that you can kill them cleanly).
So Seonghwa pep-talks himself into entering the shop, puts on his best happy-normal-employee-with-a-normal-life face and pushes the door open. He walks to the counter and greets the barista behind it (he is kind and friendly, Seonghwa likes him).
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey!” the barista answers, full of energy as always. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been told the sky is falling and we’re all going to die.”
Ah. Seonghwa needs to perfect his happy-normal face, apparently (not that it is going to be very useful if Choi San is already there). Seonghwa shakes his head.
“It’s nothing. I just had a bad morning.”
The barista chuckles. “I see. Your usual?”
Seonghwa nods. “Yes, thank you. With four...”
“Four pumps of syrup, I know. Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.”
Truthfully, Seonghwa is convinced the barista has a heart bigger than the Earth. He is still amazed at the fact he does remember him, despite the fact that Seonghwa is fairly forgettable. He remembers his sweet tooth, and even recommends new drinks to him when he thinks Seonghwa would like them (and he always does). However, Seonghwa is not delusional enough to think he is special. He still enjoys the little bit of attention he gets.
It is quite hard, not to look at Choi San like a creep. He looks way less scary in person than he did on the picture Seonghwa was sent, but Seonghwa is pretty sure it’s him. He just sits there, drinking from time to time while doing something on his computer. Seonghwa desperately tries to ignore his curiosity, and thinks about the next activity to do with the kids at school.
Three days later, Seonghwa is still living just fine and Choi San is befriending the barista at the café. They seem to be on a first name basis already, which is a state of closeness Seonghwa has never managed to achieve. Seonghwa quietly asks himself “What the fuck” before approaching the counter to get his drink.
When Choi San sees him, he has a tensed smile and he excuses himself very fast before he goes sitting in the furthest area of the café. The barista barely has the time to wave him off, and Seonghwa feels the urge to apologize.
“Sorry. Did I interrupt you?”
“No, it’s okay! We were just chatting.”
Seonghwa’s mind will not shut up, and it keeps telling him he just made the barista’s day worse by making a hitman go away. It is not rational in any way, but his brain has given rationality up long ago.
“You’re sure? I’m really sorry.”
The barista has a bit of a nervous laugh. “Don’t apologize, really. He was just distracting me from work, which is not supposed to be a good thing.”
Seonghwa nods, not really convinced.
“Don’t look this skeptical! I swear you did not interrupt anything. I was kind of waiting for you anyway. We have a new drink I think you’ll like!”
Seonghwa accepts the new drink. (Unsurprisingly, he likes it.)
If San has analyzed Park Seonghwa’s patterns well enough (that’s what 2 weeks of hard work brings you), his target should not show up at the café today, which means he can ask Yunho for what he knows about Park Seonghwa. (Typically, San does not need to get more information on Park Seonghwa, he just needs to kill him, but every time he speaks about his target at home, Yeosang levels him with a look that means “Don’t you dare put yourself in some predicament because that guy actually is an evil mastermind”, so San has to check that Park Seonghwa is not an evil mastermind.)
Walking to the counter feels like a habit at this point, and greeting the barista is maybe a bit too natural. San regrets already the moment his job will be done, and he will not be able to come here anymore.
“Yunho, hi!”
Yunho smiles his big puppy smile, and San’s mood gets immediately better.
“San, hey! You’re here again. Cannot live without me anymore?”
San snorts. “Sorry, Wooyoung said I’m not allowed to flirt with strangers he has not approved of yet.”
Yunho places a hand on his chest and pretends to be wounded. “Am I nothing more than a stranger? All the orders I’ve remembered from you, all the time I’ve spent doing your drinks, do they mean nothing to you?”
San laughs heartily.
“You should bring your Wooyoung someday though.” Yunho continues. “You keep talking about him, but he could be your fictional boyfriend for all I know.”
“You just want more customers, don’t you?”
Yunho grins. “What about it?”
Then the barista giggles, and yeah, maybe San is really really fucking weak. “Okay, I’ll bring him someday, but don’t complain to me when he annoys you to death.”
“Deal. Now, will you please order a drink Choi San, or are you trying to make me lose money?”
“There isn’t any customer besides me, I’m not making you lose any money!”
“Uh-uh. Time is money, Choi San.”
San sighs. “Just make anything, everything is good here anyway.”
“Okay, the most expensive drink, understood.”
San rolls his eyes while Yunho turns to prepare the drink. “By the way, I was curious about something.”
Yunho hums to show he is listening, so San carries on. “You know the guy who’s a regular. Tall, looks fancy, in whose drink you always add way too much sugar. Who is he?”
Yunho turns to look at him, raises a judgmental eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t allowed to flirt with strangers?”
San’s mouth opens and closes several times because for some reason, he did not think his question sounded like that. “I’m not trying to flirt with him!”
Yunho finally sets the drink on the counter, and hands the paying device to San. All the while, he has a sad smile which makes San a bit uncomfortable. “I know,” Yunho says, and what the hell does he know. “He looks tormented, doesn’t he?”
San blinks. Does he? He never noticed. San hums noncommittally to hear what Yunho has to say.
“He has been coming here for years, since he lives just up the stairs, but I’ve barely seen any real smile from him. It’s a shame, though, because he has a nice smile. I don’t know who hurt him, but I want to fight them because the guy deserves to be happy, I think. Apparently, he’s the teacher of my 4-year-old cousin, and he’s the best teach she’s ever had. Not that she had many, but yeah. Love him to death.”
Okay, now San feels really bad that he is there to end the guy’s life. He would have preferred for Yunho to tell him he secretly hates Seonghwa’s guts rather than... whatever that is. San honestly does not know what to answer, but he’s saved by the café’s door opening and Yunho greeting the new customer. San flees to his usual corner, and mulls over his life choices.
It has been three weeks; San has just received a message from his client that consisted of “Is there a problem???” and then some more question marks, and he’s looking very intently at Park Seonghwa, because indeed, the man looks horribly depressed. And very much in need of a friend.
San has been privy to a very awkward scene in which Park Seonghwa was seated at a table which would fit 4 people (as no smaller table was available when he arrived), and as the café had been unusually busy, no table had been available when a four-person group arrived. When one of them had thrown Park Seonghwa a very pointed look, the kindergarten teacher had fumbled over himself, apologized 5 times in a row, and left the table despite being very obviously not done with his drink. Both San and Yunho had thrown him a worried glance, but Park Seonghwa had seen none of them, his gaze fixed on the floor. Park Seonghwa had then looked around, seeing all the laughing groups in the café, and had seem ready to burst in tears there and then. He had stormed out of the café instead, leaving Yunho and San looking at each other with concern written on their face.
San itched to reach out to him, to invite him to his table, but he had to remember they did not know each other. It would have been weird, and it would have brought attention on himself, which was unwanted in his line of work. He sat there instead, feeling miserable. And now, the client urges him to finish his job. He has never hated it more than he does at the moment.
Seonghwa wakes up to the sun setting. He has not moved from under his covers since he fled the café a few hours ago. The voices in his head did not shut up until he fell asleep from exhaustion, having cried for a long time. You’re just taking up space, it’d be better if you disappeared. You saw it, you were alone, worthless, just a bother. It’s a shame you did not die sooner, every single minute is a moment you can inconvenience someone.
Seonghwa shoves his pillow on his head, but it does not make the voices shut up. He wishes he was dead already. He had paid someone for that, and for the moment, the someone had done nothing but sit at the café and watch him humiliate himself.
In a brief fit of anger, he grabs his phone and opens the hitman’s contact. He sends a message, reflecting more confusion than anger (because what right does he have to be angry, really? It’s not like he deserves anything). Then, he skips dinner, and tries to go back to sleep.
San has been going through e-shops for 2 hours and he is slowly starting to lose his fucking mind.
“How about a red dress?”
Wooyoung scoffs. “Are you out of your mind? Yeosang will never accept to wear it.”
San sighs, worn out. “Do you have another idea then?”
“Yeah.”
San raises an eyebrow, barely resisting insulting Wooyoung for making him waste two whole hours of his day . “Oh really?”
“Yeah.” Wooyoung’s smirk is promising trouble. “You get me that red dress, and you get him a harness.”
“We tried the harness once, and it did not work.”
“That was three years ago! He might accept now.”
Wooyoung sounds a lot like a petulant child, and San’s patience is starting to thin out. His job is stressing enough, he does not need Wooyoung to be a brat.
“Listen, I know you want to see him in a harness, and I want to as well, but this is about him, not about you. He knows that if he wants something, he can just ask, so I assume he did not change his mind about it. However, with how he is, if you insist, he will just accept despite not wanting to, and you know we cannot have th-”
The sound of the front door opening cuts San off, and both San and Wooyoung turn to see Yeosang standing in the doorway. “Is anything happening? Don’t fight please.”
San sighs again, trying to seem less tense than he actually is. “No, nothing, it’s okay.”
“Yeosang, would you accept to wear a harness?”
San feels anger rise in his guts, as he turns to face Wooyoung and maybe lash out all his frustrations onto him. Before he can do that, Yeosang blinks innocently and answers: “I don’t know? Probably? Why?”
When Wooyoung looks triumphantly at San, the latter decides he has enough. “Fuck off,” he mutters before standing up with his computer, entering the bedroom and slamming the door behind himself.
Yeosang throws a questioning look to Wooyoung, who just shrugs. San usually does not mind Wooyoung’s teasing. Yeosang rolls his eyes.
“Stay there and cook some food. I’m going to ask him what’s wrong.”
As Yeosang enters the room, he immediately spots the discarded laptop on the desk, and the lump under the covers on the bed. He closes the door, and sits on the bed.
“Sannie, what’s wrong?”
The answer comes out muffled. “I’m sorry.”
Yeosang slides next to his partner. “It’s okay. Wanna tell me?”
San’s head appears and he looks in Yeosang’s eyes. He loves Yeosang’s eyes. They are always sincere, and they hold the whole world. San wishes he could give the whole world to Yeosang, yet here he is, hiding from reality and from his job. God, he doesn’t deserve him, does he?
“Hey.” Yeosang pats San’s hair. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I love you, okay? I’ll make Wooyoung sleep on the carpet.”
San shakes his head, before burying his face in Yeosang’s chest. “’s not Wooyoung.”
“It’s not?” Yeosang asks, surprise seeping into his tone.
“It’s just...” San sits up and crosses his arms the way he always does before complaining about something. “You know, the job I accepted, like a month ago. It was well-paid as long as I didn’t ask questions, so I didn’t, you know. But the guy is a sweetheart? Like I don’t know why anyone would want him dead, and... He seems lonely. And that reminds me of myself before I met you and Wooyoungie...”
“Oh sweetheart...” Yeosang pulls San in a hug, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Do you want us to look into him? Maybe we’ll find out he’s some sort of horrible rapist.”
San starts to shake his head no, before changing his mind. “You know what? Actually, that might help. Thank you Sangie.”
Yeosang smiles tenderly. “You’re welcome. Want to come back to the living-room? We’ll chose a movie to watch while Wooyoung cooks.”
San nods enthusiastically.
Seonghwa does not know what he expected from Choi San when he saw him once again in the café downstairs, but it certainly is not Choi San grabbing the chair in front of him and sitting there. Won’t he be suspected after Seonghwa is murdered, if they were seen together not too long before? Maybe Seonghwa did not choose the right killer, but it is not like he had much choice. There are not that many assassins willing to kill without any insurance they are going to get paid.
Now his job is to pretend he is not aware the person sat in front of him is a professional killer. Good luck Seonghwa.
“Hey?” Okay good job Seonghwa.
A dimpled smile answers him. “Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?”
Actually, now that he thinks about it, maybe Choi San has a twin? It would make much more sense if the person isn’t Choi San. Or maybe Choi San sent him a fake picture? That would make much more sense. Actually, there is absolutely no way that is Choi San. Especially since there is a bunch of free sits in the café. Yeah, that is much more logical.
“No, it’s fine.” Seonghwa does not say more, because even if that isn’t Choi San, there still is no reason for him to sit there.
Not Choi San takes a few sips from his drink before he speaks up again. “I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive but you looked... sort of lonely?”
Seonghwa blinks, and frowns. Not Choi San really has weird ways to start conversations. More than that, Seonghwa hates that his loneliness shows enough for a stranger to notice it (it is not like he actually has friends to notice it anyway). Seeing his expression, Not Choi San backtracks immediately. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just see you often, and I wanted to get to know you. I guess that was not a very good conversation starter.”
Seonghwa gets more and more perplexed, and is more and more sure he got scammed by Choi San. “It’s okay. You’re right, though.”
“About?”
“It’s a very bad conversation starter,” Seonghwa says, because if he has hidden his loneliness for that long, he is not about to confess it to some random guy whose face got stolen by a scammer.
Not Choi San giggles. “I’m an introvert, okay! I’m trying my best.”
Seonghwa smiles a little – just a little, because even if that was cute, Not Choi San is still weird. Especially since he started showing up around the time Seonghwa hired Choi San. There is still no way this man is Choi San though.
Not Choi San extends his hand. “I’m Choi San! Nice to meet you.”
Okay, fuck. What the fuck. Oh god I feel sick I’m going to throw up.
Seonghwa takes his hand weakly. “Park Seonghwa. I return the sentiment.” No, he does not. Seonghwa thinks dizzily that he shook hands with a killer. And yet, he is still not dead. What the hell.
To be fair, Seonghwa still has doubts. Maybe he just got scammed, because it has been some time since he hired the guy, and Choi San’s identity has been completely stolen. It would not be a surprise, to be fair. But maybe he is the hitman Seonghwa hired, in which case he needs to know. Therefore, he has to ask. Now, how do you ask someone if they kill people for a living? You do not. You definitely do not.
“Then Seonghwa....do you maybe have any advices on conversation starters? Sincerely, because I am terribly bad at it.”
That’s an opening, if Seonghwa has ever heard one. “Well, you could ask for the person’s job for example...”
Choi San nods, and he weirdly looks like one of Seonghwa’s students, with many more years. “What’s your job?”
Seonghwa chuckles. “I’m a kindergarten teacher. What about you?”
“I’m a writer!” Choi San answers with so much enthusiasm that Seonghwa wants to believe him. “Well, I’m trying to be. I might not be very good, because nobody wants to publish my book. I’ve been spending the last month trying to review it, but maybe I shouldn’t have listened to my partners when they said it was good. Partners are always biased.”
Seonghwa listens to him ranting, and he does not think for a second before answering. “Have some trust in yourself! I’m sure you’re good. If it would reassure you, I could read it and give you feedback...?”
Choi San’s face lights up. “Actually, I’d like that a lot! Are you like, an angel?”
“An ang- what- no-” Seonghwa stutters, his cheeks heating up. “No, no. I just have free time and I like to read.”
“And you use this time to help a stranger by reading his mediocre story. Definitely an angel.”
Seonghwa decides to hide his reddening face in his hands, because what the hell is this man talking about. He can nearly hear Choi San’s smile when he speaks again: “I promise I won’t be mad when you end up telling me it’s shit.”
Seonghwa groans. “It won’t be shit.”
“You haven’t read it yet, how do you know?”
Seonghwa waves a hand, still hiding his eyes with the other. “There’s a vibe that comes from people who write badly, and you do not have that vibe.”
Choi San laughs, clear and high, and it is a nice laugh. “Okay. I’m curious now, though. What kind of vibe do I give?”
Seonghwa removes his hand from his eyes to observe Choi San who is looking at him expectantly. He folds it neatly with his other hand on his thighs. “You just... Look happy, I guess. A happy vibe.”
“And having a happy vibe stops me from being a bad writer?”
Seonghwa frowns. “Will you please stop putting yourself down right in front of my salad, young man?”
Choi San seems delighted by the reference, and Seonghwa is delighted too. It has been years since he last quoted a meme. He did not have many opportunities to, and even if he had, he was too afraid the joke would not hit home. Seonghwa was not about to jeopardize his few relationships with his weird weeb culture.
“Should I send you the manuscript by mail?
“You better do.”
When Park Seonghwa gets home, he’s just spent 2 hours talking with Choi San, and he realizes belatedly he did not once have any bad thoughts during that time. Hongjoong chuckles. “Did you just make friends with someone who kills people for a living?”
“No. And he might very well just be a writer.”
“Seonghwa, he literally appeared right after you hired a hitman who happened to use his name. He is a hitman.”
“Whatever.”
“Also, that was not my point. You made a friend.”
“We talked for a few hours. We’re not friends.”
“You talked, exchanged your contact info, and laughed over coffee. I’m pretty sure that is considered as ‘making friends’.”
“Uh-uh, whatever you say, Hongjoong.”
“Park Seonghwa, you know I’m right, you cannot even deny it!”
Seonghwa carefully ignores the fact it’s the first time Hongjoong has spoken up in a month, and does not wonder what it means.
When Choi San gets home, he’s just spent 2 hours talking with Park Seonghwa, and the very first words he says after entering the living room where Yeosang and Wooyoung are playing Mario Kart are “I’m screwed.”
Yeosang crosses the finish line at this precise instant, thankfully because San would have needed to wait for the end of the race otherwise. Wooyoung curses colorfully, because that apparently was the last race and Yeosang winning means Wooyoung has to do the laundry.
Yeosang turns to San after teasing Wooyoung, and, like a good zucchini, shows concern. “What happened?”
San sighs and lets himself fall on the couch dramatically, half-crushing Wooyoung in the process. “Park Seonghwa is nice.”
Wooyoung blinks. “Is that so bad?”
“It is bad, because I am supposed to kill him, and there is absolutely no way I’m killing him now.”
Yeosang pats San’s head, which ended on his lap when he sighed anew and lay down, still dramatically. Wooyoung takes San’s ankle and starts to massage it. “Can you tell your client you won’t be able to do it? We’re not short on money, are we?”
“We’ll be if I send back the advance. I don’t know the client, so I don’t want to risk running away with the money. Even if they haven’t asked for that many updates on the progress...”
“It’s okay. If we need money, we’ll just throw Wooyoung out.”
“ Excuse you?? ”
San rolls his eyes. “We’re not throwing anyone out.” There is a minute of silence, where San pouts, Yeosang’s fingers threading through his hair.
“I agree with Wooyoung, though,” Yeosang says. “We’ve managed with less than that. Wooyoung has a job, and I’m pretty sure I can scam someone if we really are in deep shit. We’ll be fine.”
San bites his lip. “Did you look into him like you said you would?”
Yeosang nods. “I didn’t find anything. I’m pretty sure he’s just a random teacher, or he’s so good that literally nobody knows anything about him. The only website I could find him on was LinkedIn, and a mention by one of his fellow teachers on Facebook.”
San groans. “He really is just nice , isn’t he? I hate this job.”
To be honest, Seonghwa is not really surprised when he gets a message from the hitman saying “I am very sorry, but I will not be able to finish this job. I will send you the money back as soon as you provide me a way to do so.” Hongjoong is taunting him, happily singing something along the lines of “Park Seonghwa made friends, Park Seonghwa has a friend, a beginning and not an end, see I was right as I always am”, which does not rhyme and uses a lot of Seonghwa’s braincells for nothing.
He answers shortly: “Keep the money. I was starting to think you were nothing but a scam, anyway. I appreciate your honesty.” It must sound very weird coming from someone who paid real money for him to commit real murder, but Seonghwa is a gentleman before anything else, and he does not really want to try hiring a hitman again, so he would have no use for the money anyway. He might as well let Choi San have it.
Minutes after, he receives San’s manuscript on his normal e-mail address. He opens it and starts to read.
Again, Seonghwa is not really surprised to see San at the café two days later, when he comes in for his nearly daily input of sugar. He is, however, surprised to see another man with him, whom he has never seen before. They’re seated at a table of four, and the barista has joined them to chat. When the bell at the door jiggles, the three of them turn to Seonghwa, and San’s face lights up. “Seonghwa!” he exclaims, and he beckons Seonghwa closer.
Seonghwa hesitantly comes forward. “Hello, San.”
San smiles, and his dimples make Seonghwa melt a little. He catches himself thinking that he is happy that San is not actually going to kill him. You’re weird, Park Seonghwa , he tells himself. “I’m happy you’re here today! I wanted to introduce you.” San points at the man Seonghwa does not know. “That’s my boyfriend, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung leans over the table to get closer to Seonghwa. “Hey,” he says, a smirk on his face, “I heard a lot about you. San kept saying you’re sweet.”
“Huh,” Seonghwa answers very eloquently.
“Jung Wooyoung, shut your mouth.”
“Or?” Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows playfully.
“Or I’ll join the Wooyoung bully team.”
Wooyoung gapes in shock. “You wouldn’t!”
While him and San have a staring match, the barista turns to Seonghwa and smiles blindingly at him. “You should sit down. Want your usual?”
“Ah, yes. That would be great, thank you.” Seonghwa looks around, to decide where to sit. The café is basically empty, but for San, Wooyoung, and a student quietly reviewing his material in a corner with headphones on. When his eyes fall back on San and his boyfriend, he finds both of them looking at him expectantly. Seonghwa holds their gazes, confused by what they want. Did they ask a question, and Seonghwa did not hear? He is being a disaster again, fuck fuck fuck fuck –
“Sit with us?” San asks, looking somewhat hesitant, and suddenly, there is nothing but static in Seonghwa’s brain. That is, until a single thought surfaces: Wait, do they want me around?
By the time he is finally seated, the barista is back with his drink, and he sits with them again. “There you go. It’s on the house today.”
Today is getting more and more confusing, and Seonghwa is starting to wonder if someone is going to come out from hiding and shout “IT WAS A PRANK”. “What, why?” he asks instead.
The barista shrugs. “Felt like it. Hey, can I call you Seonghwa as well?”
Seonghwa nearly answers another very intelligent “huh”, but he catches himself. “Oh, yes. How should I call you, then...?”
The barista looks like an overexcited puppy, and Seonghwa has to keep himself from smiling (little does he know that the three other men want nothing more than seeing him smile). “Call me Yunho!”
Seonghwa nods, and gets swept into talking about San’s book, and what he had time to read. There’s a thought that flies into his head, and this time, he cannot keep himself from smiling.
They’re around a table of four. Seonghwa knows the first name of everyone there. They’re talking and laughing together. It looks oddly like a group of friends.
Park Seonghwa is mad. Park Seonghwa is mad, because he just finished San’s book, and it is great. He wants to fight everyone who ever said anything bad about it, including publishing companies and Choi San himself.
However, he cannot exactly send a message to Choi San saying he’s going to fight him, so he mulls over what to say to him all night long instead of sleeping. It might be a Saturday night, but Seonghwa feels a bit disoriented as he sees the sun rise through his window.
At 6AM, he settles for writing a very long message describing in detail every little thing he liked, he finishes writing it at 7:30, sends it before he can overthink it too much, and hopes San won’t get suspicious of the early time it was sent at.
Seonghwa meets Yeosang around two weeks later. While Wooyoung had been playful and boisterous, Yeosang is quiet and witty. They get on very well together, and end up bullying San for an hour. Seonghwa eventually gives up in front of San’s puppy eyes, and San claims he likes Seonghwa better than his partner, because, “he, at least, does not insult me every day.”
Yeosang ends up chocking on his spit because he cannot stop laughing, and the voices in Seonghwa’s head telling him it’s his fault stay mostly quiet.
They exchange phone numbers, and the very first thing Yeosang sends him is a badly edited meme about him and Seonghwa aggressively protecting San’s novel.
Seonghwa knows he is doing better. Not good, because you do not get rid of depression suddenly just because four funky men start to show you a bit of affection. Seonghwa thinks it’s good for him to acknowledge he’s far from having a stable headspace. There are moments where the thoughts are still horribly loud. Sometimes outside, when he’s with people, these moments he asks himself “when will they get bored of me?”, but mostly at home.
In the silence of his house, his mind tricks him. It tells him everything is a lie, that San is making fun of him. That Choi San gave up on killing him because it was funnier to play with him until he kills himself. That Choi San knows, knew from the beginning Seonghwa was the one paying him, and that he has been laughing from the start. His mind calls him pathetic, useless, laughable.
Somehow, it hurts more than it used to. Now that Seonghwa has gotten hope back, it hurts when it is crushed right in front of him. In those moments, there is Hongjoong. Hongjoong reminds him of how sincere San has always been, of how sweet Yunho is, how bright their smiles are. Hongjoong whispers to Seonghwa about how he has been doing better, about how Hongjoong is proud of him.
Seonghwa guesses Hongjoong is a bit like his voice of reason.
Seonghwa goes to see his therapist, and he tells her about Hongjoong. Seonghwa feels less like Hongjoong might slip through his fingers now. He does not disappear, after all, and maybe he feels closer than he ever has.
San has been anxious. Wooyoung and Yeosang have noticed how he sometimes walk around the flat restlessly, and he has been terribly unconvincing every time he said everything was fine.
In the end, Yeosang and Wooyoung corner him on the couch, his mouth half-full of chicken. Yeosang takes a knife from the kitchen and takes one of San’s plushies hostage. San nearly chokes to death, and Wooyoung pats his back sympathetically, as if he did not agree to the plan. Yeosang waits patiently until San has caught his breath, before exclaiming in theatrical fashion: “I am holding your dear companion. If you want him back, you better cooperate. My hand would not hesitate, were you fool enough to refuse.”
San sinks to his knees. “O, my lord, please show mercy. I will follow your every order if it means safety for my friend.”
Yeosang can see Wooyoung struggling very hard to restrain his laughter, and he ponders changing hostages for a second. However, he is pretty sure Wooyoung might have a thing for knives, and it is not a territory Yeosang wants to stray into.
“I demand that you tell us what has been bothering you the last few days. Only if your answer is convincing enough will your companion be released. I am all ears.”
San’s playful expression falls, and he bits his lips. Wooyoung (the absolute traitor) hugs him. “Hey, baby, it’s okay. We just don’t like seeing you like that and we want to help. I promise you can tell us,” he whispers. Yeosang watches Wooyoung cradle San while he’s still standing stupidly in the villain’s role, holding a butter knife to the neck of San’s favorite plushie. Every second, his Bullying Wooyoung Agenda grows stronger, and it might explode one day.
If Yeosang likes one thing about San, it’s that he hates to make people worry. Therefore, it does not take that much effort to make him open up. “It’s just... I’m worried about Seonghwa, you know. Because there’s someone out there who still wants to kill him? And he’s so innocent, there’s no way he has any idea about that. And I just want to protect him, but I don’t know how to.”
Yeosang stabs the air with his butter knife. “Stab everyone who tries to hurt him,” he says, deadpan.
Wooyoung cackles, which makes San wheeze as well. Yeosang throws the plushie at Wooyoung’s face. “Find solutions instead of laughing at me.”
That just makes Wooyoung laugh harder, and Yeosang resolves to faceplant onto the couch to hide his smile. Once they have all calmed down, Wooyoung speaks up. “You guys remember Jongho?”
“From high school? He was in the basketball team, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve met him again not too long ago, and he’s a bodyguard now.”
San raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying we should hire him to protect Seonghwa?”
“Why not? I mean, he has some muscles...” In front of Yeosang’s and San’s judgmental looks, he stands to defend himself. “This bullying has to stop! I cannot accept this anymore! Let me appreciate muscles in peace!”
When Wooyoung asks him to protect some random teacher because “he has some information that someone might want to hurt him”, Jongho looks at him like he is just mildly suspicious, which is honestly good enough. Somehow, they end up drinking alcohol with San and Yeosang until late into the night, and Jongho really is a good guy, once you look past the dad jokes. Wooyoung and San make out on the couch, and Jongho and Yeosang make gagging noise at them: the perfect definition of harmony.
When Jongho asks if he should start the day later (apparently, he just became jobless, which is a bit sad for him, but also very convenient for San), San realizes that Seonghwa might not just accept to be followed around by a bodyguard without explanation.
It’s only then that he realizes that plan was bad from the very beginning. San has a drunk meltdown in Yeosang’s arms, because he has no idea of what he is going to do about this very issue. Yeosang just pats his head, because he is just as drunk and his braincells are not functioning very well.
The day after, much less drunk and much more hungover, they decide that they should invite Seonghwa to their flat for a little get together, along with Jongho (and maybe Yunho, but maybe not because he might freak out if he learns that someone wants to kill one of his regulars and now friend). They would sit Seonghwa done, and explain to him that Yeosang has some computer knowledge, and he found out that someone was talking about murdering Seonghwa online, or some bullshit, and tell him not to panic, because if he let him, Jongho would protect him. Everything would go well, and nobody would get hurt. Probably. Well, San hoped, at least.
The text comes in, and surprises Seonghwa. It says “Hey! Are you free on Friday evening? I thought maybe you could come over as a little get together~ it’ll just be me, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and our friend Jongho (he’s very chill don’t worry). I’d be happy if you could join~”, and it feels very odd to realize that Seonghwa had never been invited over like that. He definitely has nothing planned on Friday, but he spends fifteen minutes panicking before sending that he’ll be glad to come.
Afterwards, Seonghwa just stands in the middle of his living room, not wanting if he wants to jump around in joy, scream in a pillow or yeet himself from the window.
Seonghwa is horribly stressed all week, and it shows enough for his colleague Mingi to ask him if he is alright. Seonghwa assures him everything is perfectly okay, as if he is not vibrating out of his skin from how much he is overthinking. Friday comes way too fast, and Seonghwa spends 30 minutes panicking in front of his wardrobe, before panicking about the fact he might get there 5 minutes late. He actually arrives 5 minutes too early, so he waits down the building until it is time, and he rings the door the moment the clock hits 7 pm. He is so stressed he does not even get perplexed as to why San’s flat is so far away from his.
Yeosang is the one to open the door, and he looks slightly breathless, as well as surprised to see Seonghwa here. They blink at each other, and then Seonghwa starts to panic again. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I too ea–”
“No, no you’re right on time. We’re the ones who are late. Wooyoung and San still are in the bathroom. Come in, I’ll be right back.”
As Seonghwa enters and closes the door behind him, Yeosang crosses the living room to yell at a door. “San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa is there so you better be fully dressed when you get out of there.”
Seonghwa can hear Wooyoung shout back a very elegant “Fuck you”, and Yeosang screams “Behave!” before turning to Seonghwa with a friendly smile. “What do you want to drink?”
Seonghwa, who stayed frozen at the door, scrambles to make his last available braincell work. “Uh, do you have soda, maybe? I’m not in the mood for alcohol yet.”
“Sure thing.” As Seonghwa stays in the entrance, Yeosang shoots him a questioning look. “Why are you staying there?”
“Uh. Um, should I remove my shoes?”
Yeosang looks at Seonghwa’s feet, seeming a little lost. “Oh, yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” Then he disappears in the kitchen, and leaves Seonghwa to his own devices.
Once he has removed his shoes, he sits stiffly on the couch, and waits silently. Yeosang finally comes back with drinks for the both of them, and right as he sets them on the coffee table, there is the sound of a door opening. San appears from the bathroom, and he closes the door behind him rapidly. He is drying his hair with a towel, and smiles at Seonghwa. “Hey! Sorry for that. We lost track of time. I’m coming in like, 30 seconds.”, and he runs to the next door, probably one of the bedrooms. Yeosang buries his face in his hands and sighs. “I swear, these two...”
Seonghwa chuckles. “It’s okay.” Yeosang rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to lie; I know they’re dumbasses.”
To be fair, if they were at the café, a place that felt much more like his territory, he would have agreed without hesitation. But when he is sitting in their living room, it feels weird to insult his hosts, even teasingly, so he forces a smile, and try to distract himself by taking a sip of his soda.
True to his word, San joins them soon after, and asks Seonghwa how he is from the kitchen.
“I’m good. A bit tired, though, but it’s the weekend, so it’s alright,” he answers, not mentioning that he’s mostly tired because he cannot sleep well when he is stressed, and he has spent the whole week stressing over going to San and his partners’ flat.
San comes back with two beers, sets them down, and sits with them with a chuckle. They all lift their head when the door opens again and Wooyoung steps out, a grin plastered on his face. “Seonghwa!” he screams, before spontaneously coming to hug him. He tries to hug Yeosang next, but he gives up when Yeosang nearly hits his face with his socked foot.
He has just sat down when the door rings, and they all look at him expectantly. They seem to have a wordless fight, which Seonghwa watches amusedly, until Wooyoung gets up sulkily to go open the door and let their other guest in.
The young man that enters greets everyone and introduces himself to Seonghwa as Jongho (which Seonghwa already knew, because San had told him in the message, a message that Seonghwa re-read maybe a few dozens of times). Seonghwa introduces himself back, and they all cheer and start to drink.
At some point, Seonghwa falls quiet, and watches the others interact. They seem so natural; it looks so easy to them. While Seonghwa overthinks everything he says, it barely takes ten minutes for Jongho to become an official member of the Wooyoung bully team.
That’s what being friends is. Looking at the bottom of his glass, Seonghwa cannot push back the thought that maybe that means he cannot ever truly be friends with anyone. It sounds a bit stupid to his own mind, the rational one, but it is not the part in control at the moment, and Seonghwa grows a bit quieter.
He is abruptly dragged away from his thoughts when Yeosang nudges him. “Hey. Do you have new stories about your kids. I need my dose.” Obviously, Seonghwa provides, because he cannot really refuse Yeosang anything, and also because his students are always a bit weird and there always are new stories to tell. He starts then to recount the story of how little Ben proceeded to bite one of his classmates and made her cry, which made Yeosang laugh more than it should, really, but it is okay.
It’s a bit later into the night, and Seonghwa has moved onto beer, when San calls “Seonghwa”, and the room falls oddly silent.
Seonghwa sets his glass down, and swallows. “Yes?”, he asks, and he is pretty sure anyone can hear how strained his voice is, and maybe he’s shaking too. “I have to tell you something. Can you promise me not to panic before I am done?” Seonghwa hesitantly nods. San looks to Yeosang and Wooyoung for moral support, and Yeosang takes his hand while Wooyoung’s settle on San’s back, a comforting weight. “We think that someone might want to kill you.”
San looks at Seonghwa to gauge his reaction, but he eventually gets more worried by his nearly lack of reaction. Maybe he seems more relaxed than he was when San started to talk, which is frankly concerning when you have just been told someone wants you 6 feet underneath the ground. “Oh,” is all he says, and San watches him, stunned.
“Oh?” San repeats. “Did you...know?”
Seonghwa’s eyes widen. “I’m– No, I– I did not know. I am just. Surprised. Yeah.”
There is a beat of silence while San tries to remember what he had to say. “Um. Okay. So, uh, we were thinking. Just, Jongho, here, is a bodyguard, so maybe he could protect you. Just in case, you know.”
Seonghwa suddenly shakes his head, and San worries he is going to break his neck. “No, no, there is no need!”
“But–!”
“I swear it’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
San frowns. “I know it doesn’t sound very believable, but I really am concerned about you. Jongho does not have to follow you everywhere, but maybe at least when you are out...”
Seonghwa shakes his head again. “Really, there is no need to bother anyone for that.”
“Someone out there wants to kill you Seonghwa, I don’t feel like you truly understand what that means.”
“No, I know. But I really insist there is no need for anything like that.”
When Seonghwa looks at San’s face, he looks hurt. Probably because he thinks that Seonghwa does not believe him, does not trust him, but it is all much more complicated. Seonghwa’s brain latches on the fact he’s hurt San, and suddenly there’s nothing else he can think of. It becomes hard to breathe, and he feels his leg tremble, and the gaze of everyone on him.
He needs to leave before he makes it worse.
He stands him suddenly, making Yeosang jump a little, and steps back toward the door. “I’m so sorry, I’ve made everything wrong. That’s my fault, I’m so sorry, I’ll go now, so you don’t have to worry anymore.”
Before any of the others can stand up to follow him, he runs to the door, shoves his feet in his shoes without tying his shoelaces and he runs away. He can just hear San scream “Seonghwa!” before the door slams behind him.
Seonghwa wakes up to a heavy headache, probably because he’s spent hours crying over everything he has managed to fuck up in the span of fifteen minutes. He hides under his blanket, not wanting to see the sun taunting him, telling him life continues no matter if he is ready for it or not.
His stomach is growling, but he refuses to move from his bed. It probably takes him one or two more hours before he gets curious of what time it is. He picks up his phone from the floor, where he threw it yesterday evening in the fit of self-hatred.
There are many messages from San, from yesterday evening, then some more in the morning and in the afternoon. San is asking him not to withdraw, not to close into himself, telling him that he does not have to accept their help, and that he wants to hear from him, as soon as possible, because he is worried. There are some from Wooyoung as well, which seem to be saying the same.
What catches Seonghwa’s attention, however, are the two messages Yeosang sent him. “can I come over?” and “answer whenever you are ready”. “Why?” he texts back, and the answer from Yeosang is immediate. “just wanna ask you a question”, then “don’t worry, I'm not bringing san and wooyoung”
Seonghwa hesitates, but he texts Yeosang a simple “okay”, and he forces himself out of his bed. He takes a shower, as if maybe that will make him feel a bit less like a waste of time. It does not, but at least, he is clean when Yeosang knocks at his door an hour later. He lets him in, and apologizes for the mess. Yeosang looks around, and says “There is absolutely no mess.” He pauses, as if he wanted to say something else, but he shakes his head and removes his shoes. Seonghwa is not sure he likes that, because it sort of means Yeosang intends to stay more than just a few minutes, and these minutes are minutes Seonghwa cannot spend trying to break his skull against his walls.
He still points the couch for Yeosang. “Please take a sit. Do you want to drink something?”
Yeosang shakes his head. “No, thank you, I’ll be okay.” He then looks at Seonghwa, waiting for him to sit as well, so he does. There is more silence, and Seonghwa’s shoulders are so tense that they are starting to get painful.
Yeosang licks his lips, hesitates, does it once more, and he speaks up: “If I’m wrong, this question will sound very weird, but I really need to ask you.” Seonghwa nods. “Did you...Did you plan your own murder?”
The sob that stumbles past Seonghwa’s lips is enough of an answer to Yeosang, who stands up and kneels in front of Seonghwa. He takes his hands in his, delicately, and his voice is soft when he says “It’s okay. You can cry if you want. It’s okay.”
And so Seonghwa does.
It takes quite some time for Seonghwa to calm down, and Yeosang stays silently with him all the while. Once he can, Seonghwa asks, his sight still blurry from tears, “How did you know?”
Yeosang shrugs. “Yesterday evening was really weird, honestly. And then, thinking about it, I thought that the way you text was very similar to how the client texted, and I thought that, just maybe. Maybe it was you. There is no way anyone else knows, if you are wondering.”
Seonghwa nods. “Thank you.”
“I’m very happy San did not do his job, you know. You are a good friend. Well, when you do not run away without explanation, at least. But I’m glad I met you.”
Seonghwa snorts, but it sounds more like a sniffle. “Are you telling me this because I tried to plan my own murder?”
“No. I really enjoy your company. I wouldn’t have come all the way here if I didn’t.”
Seonghwa just looks at the ground, and Yeosang lets him have some time to think before he asks: “Have you...hired someone else?”
Seonghwa shakes his head. Yeosang feels half of the tension leave his body. “Okay. Good. Please don’t, because if you do, I will find out, and send Jongho after you.”
That manages to bring a small smile on Seonghwa’s face. “Okay. I won’t. It was too much effort for no results anyway.”
“Maybe... maybe the result is not just the one you expected. I mean, if you accept us as friends... That will be something, no?”
Yeosang spends the whole evening at Seonghwa’s home. They order take-out and watch stupid TV shows after Yeosang has forced Seonghwa to send a message to Wooyoung and San by himself, so that they will stop worrying despite Yeosang’s reassurances.
It is peaceful, and they do not talk about what happened earlier. It seemed to Yeosang that Seonghwa was already emotionally tired enough, and those conversations could wait a few days.
When Yeosang leaves, around midnight, he has only one question to ask. “Should I tell Wooyoung and San?”
Seonghwa predictably shakes his head. “Okay, I won’t. I’ll tell them to drop the Jongho thing.”
Seonghwa smiles. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. See you later.”
“Yeah. See you later.”
Seonghwa watches Yeosang leave, and waves back when Yeosang turns to wave at him.
“Yunho, hello.”
Yunho turns to him, grinning as usual. “Hey Seonghwa! Good morning?”
“Yes. I like the weather today.”
“Right, it’s nice, isn’t it? It’s not too hot yet. Do you know if San is going to pass by today?”
“I honestly don’t know. He told me he had a job thing today.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “Always job things. He had much less of these when he was spending every day lounging at the café.”
Seonghwa laughs. “Well, what can we say, he finally managed to snatch a contract for his book. We can only be happy for him, right?”
Yunho slides his drink in front of him, and Seonghwa mechanically hands him his credit card.
“Hey,” Yunho says as he gives the card back. “You know, you’ve been coming here for years, but you really look much happier these days. I’m happy. I’ve always been a bit worried for you.”
“Sorry I made you worry,” Seonghwa apologizes, but it does not feel like it used to, the crushing guilt about his every action having started to disappear a few months ago. “I’m much better now. And it is partly thanks to my favorite barista.”
“Oh, you’re flattering me!”
Seonghwa takes a sip of his drink and smiles. “I wouldn’t dare.”
There is Hongjoong’s voice in a corner of his head, taunting him, saying “Told you so. I knew you could be happy.”