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“Prank is over, Sung,” Felix sighed and looked at Jisung with a sad and defeated expression.
Jisung frowned, “To be honest, it went longer than expected. I can’t believe you guys actually believed it this long.” He turned to Seungmin. “Especially you.” Of all people, Jisung would’ve thought Seungmin would’ve caught on relatively quickly to his fake-boyfriend shtick.
“I thought something was strange since you refused to show us his face.” Seungmin shrugged and continued to scroll on his phone.
“Who did you use in those blurred photos? Oh, and whose yearbook photo was that!?” Jeongin asked the first question calmly then blurted out the second one as an afterthought.
Jisung put down his Starbucks cup. “Okay, so” —he took a deep breath as it was a lot to organise into words— “the yearbook guy was someone from my mom’s yearbook when she was in high school. The blurred photos were literally Jungkook from BTS edited into more normal backgrounds, editing done by yours truly.” He ran a hand through his hair and ruffled the hair on the back of his head.
“Where’d you get the name?” Chan asked the next question.
“Yeah,” Jeongin said, “where did you get a name like that?”
“Lee Know?” Jisung laughed. “That was just the nickname I gave him. His real name was Lee Minho. Like the actor.”
Everyone seated at the table let out a heavy sigh.
“Wait, so who was in the original picture?” Hyunjin set down his cup in a dramatic manner.
“It was my cousin.” Jisung cringed and fake gagged.
The table erupted into laughter and Jisung crossed one leg over the other. He crossed his arms as well and looked around the bookstore, peering about the shelves and clueless people.
The bookstore was relatively empty, only a few people scattered around. It was nearing 22:00, so the dying foot traffic made sense. The people who were still there had been there for hours like the boys at the table.
A single person walked out of one aisle, catching Jisung’s eye. Messy dark brown hair and sharp features stared back at him before turning away and walking into the aisle of crime novels; a face that was too perfect to be real. A face identical to that he originally imagined as his dream guy. Not identical to the yearbook photo he used, but similar, the eyes a bit larger, nose a bit straighter.
His back that was against the back of the chair was now straight and upright, his neck stretched as he attempted to follow him with his eyes. However, the shelf of books was too high for him to glance over even from the elevated platform the cafe sat on and especially with Jeongin sitting across from him.
Jeongin turned in his seat and followed Jisung’s line of view. “What’re you looking at?”
Jisung looked at his confused friend and shook his head. “Nothing, I’ll be right back.”
The scrape of the chair being forced back startled those seated around them as he stood abruptly and walked away, throwing his empty cup into the trash. He rushed to the crime section, mind racing with questions to himself like what the heck was he doing?
“Do you even like crime novels?” He heard Chan yell at his back from the table.
He wanted to turn around and laugh, “You didn’t know?” But he couldn’t bring himself to as he hesitated at the very edge of the aisle. What would he even say to him? Would he talk to him at all? Should he just stay silent, pretending to be looking for a book? He couldn’t just walk up to him and ask why he looked like a guy he made up in his head. Pretending to look for a book was his best bet.
He entered the aisle but was confused to see an empty corridor of books, a wall on the opposite side. He could’ve sworn the guy had walked into that aisle. He didn’t see him exit, only walk in.
Maybe there’s a secret exit that you need to press a specific brick to unlock? Oh, come on, don’t be stupid, of course that’s not it.
Jisung shook his head at himself and left the aisle. His eyes were playing tricks on him, they must’ve been.
But you made eye contact with him, he saw you.
No, it was nothing. He wasn’t there, he was a figment of his imagination. That’s all, his imagination.
Jisung jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder and a soft voice sounded. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve just been standing here.”
He turned to face Chan who had silently followed him from the table. He looked past him and back at the table to see Felix and Hyunjin looking their way, Jeongin halfway out of his seat, and Seungmin standing, ready to come over at the slightest sign of distress.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just” —he tried his best to come up with a convincing lie— “shocked at all the books.”
“Hannie, it’s a bookstore.”
Jisung chuckled nervously, turning away from Chan and beginning to make his way back to the table with the others. He sat back down in his seat as he ignored the concerned looks from his friends. He gave the area of the crime novels a small glance over Jeongin’s shoulder and again, met the cold gaze of the pretty stranger, although he seemed to be a bit blurry around the edges. Jisung blinked and he was gone.
“Oh, my mom is here to pick us up,” Seungmin announced, standing from his seat again, and being followed by Jeongin and Hyunjin.
“Perfect, my mom is here too.” Felix smiled, standing as well.
Chan pulled his own keys out of his pocket, turning to Jisung. “Do you need a ride?”
Jisung just shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll walk home.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, standing from her seat. He pushed in his chair and received a hug from Seungmin before he, Jeongin, and Hyunjin walked to the exit door. Jisung watched as Chan followed them, Felix going to the other door. He himself stood leaning against the table for a few minutes, not exactly sure what he was doing. Yes, he knew the way home, but to walk was a far way.
“Sir, it’s ten ‘til closing, so if you’re not going to buy anything can you please leave?” a worker at the cafe asked in a monotone manner, making it quite obvious he hated his job or maybe just his life.
“Sorry,” Jisung muttered, rushing down the steps and out the nearest door, into the cool night air. He checked his phone: 21:51. He really didn’t feel like walking all the way home, his feet ached just thinking about it. His other option was to take the bus to the nearest stop but he had little to no understanding of how public transportation worked, having lived a life where his parents catered to his transportation needs.
He opted to walk.
Figuring walking along the highway at night would be too dangerous, he decided to take the back roads to his neighbourhood. Horns honked and brakes squealed as traffic was still as apparent at night as it was in the day.
He walked with one earbud in and one earbud out; a safety precaution he’d always been taught. His feet moved quickly, rushing to get home. Not that the time he got home mattered, his parents were out of town anyway. As he stood at the intersection, cars raced past, not caring at all that it was night and the speed limit was 35 miles per hour.
He stared at the crosswalk light as if that would make it change faster. His steady breaths came to a halt as he noticed faint footsteps nearing him. Out of instinct, he turned, coming face to face with the exact pretty face he thought he had made up. The same guy that mysteriously disappeared in the bookstore, reappearing a minute later only to flicker in his line of sight.
“Hello, good evening.” His voice was gentle and cheerful, his energy flowing through the tone. He smiled and Jisung had to remind himself that breathing was a necessity.
Jisung nodded in response to him, turning back to the street to see the crosswalk light turn green. He looked to his right and left before stepping into the street, feeling the boy walk right behind him. He turned his attention back to walking, trying to ignore the gorgeous face that was next to him.
A blaring honk interrupted the silence, headlights shining against Jisung’s dark clothes. He jumped out of the lane as a car zoomed past, not bothering to stop and check on him. He shook at the realisation of what could’ve just happened, what didn’t happen.
He looked across the next lane to search for the guy, growing confused as he saw him on the sidewalk, walking away unfased by the incident.
Every part of his being was screaming at him to run away, go a different direction, that even the highway was safer than walking near him; but it was as if he had him on a rope. He felt compelled to follow him, not only because he was beautiful but because it seemed right. He wanted to know him, he wanted him to know her.
He followed him.
He was going the direction he needed anyway.
“What’s your name?”
The boy’s voice made Jisung jump.
He’s just trying to be nice, calm down. “Jisung, my name’s Jisung. What’s yours?”
He grew nervous the second he asked. What if his name really is…
“Minho, it’s Minho.”
The five letter name sent small shivers down his spine. It’s just a coincidence. It’s a common name.
“Where are you headed?”
His gaze had shifted back to the road ahead, his hands going from his sides to the pockets in his jacket. His voice however remained with the same happy, energetic tone.
“I-I’m on my way to a friend’s house,” Jisung lied. He didn’t want Minho to know he was heading home. If he really was just a creep that was following him, he didn’t want him to know it was his house.
The way he looked at him after that made him shake inside with fear. He looked at him as if he knew he was lying.
“That’s fun,” he said, but his tone from before had turned slightly bitter. They continued walking, silent as the birds called to each other a final goodnight and cats scurried across the road to the bushes they called home.
Once they reached the next intersection, Jisung paused his walking, turning to go left. Minho, however, continued straight.
Not wanting to be rude, Jisung called after him, “Have a good night!”
Minho turned with a smile and waved back, going back to his pace quickly after.
He went back to looking at his feet as he walked, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. A strong wind blew and Jisung shivered, placing his hands into his pockets.
In his left pocket he found a tiny slip of paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it to find it was a sticky note folded four times. On it was what looked at first to be some kind of scribbles, a closer look needed to see they were numbers, shakily scratched down.
He definitely needs penmanship classes, Jisung thought as he pulled out his phone and squinted at the tiny slip. Eventually he made out the full number, sending a small “hi” text.
He replied back instantly:
good, you could read the handwriting.
barely
:))
Jisung smiled at the small face he sent. It's adorable .
He looked at the time and realised he needed to get home, and soon. It was nearing 22:30 and he wanted to go to sleep to get ready for school the next day.
The next morning went as any normal one did. He got up, got ready, ate breakfast, and was out the door by 7:00, walking the 20 minutes walk to school. He got to the typical stop sign, although it looked a bit bent in the centre — probably just a few kids messing around.
He was crossing the street when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He hit the sidewalk and turned to see the smiling face of the boy from the night before, this time with a backpack and a book in hand.
“Hello,” the boy said with the same cheerful tone Jisung was beginning to get used to. He smiled and hugged the book to his chest.
Jisung smiled too. “Hi!”
His eyebrows scrunched together. “Do we go to the same school? I’ve never seen you around.”
“I just moved here, today is my first day.” His smile never faded and Jisung had to admit, it was a bit strange. He always seemed to smile, for no reason. Yes, that was what he liked about the guy he made up, he was always happy, but it’s not like he didn’t have other emotions.
“Jisung!”
A hand grabbed his arm as a honk similar to the one the night before rang through the intersection. The car went past just as the one from the past night had done.
He fell to the ground as a loud voice yelled at him, “What were you doing!?”
Jisung struggled to find which way was up as he listened to the voice scolding him for walking into the middle of the road without looking both ways. He finally was able to look into the face of the “scolder” to meet Seungmin’s angry eyes.
Jisung took a deep breath. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
“By what!? You were walking alone and walked straight into the street!”
Jisung’s eyebrows crashed together. “Alone? No, I was talking to someone.”
Seungmin looked around before looking back down at Jisung. “There's nobody else here.”
It was Jisung’s turn to look around, his mind failing to comprehend how Minho was nowhere to be seen.
Seungmin put his hands under Jisung’s arms, pulling him off the ground and onto his feet. “Let’s just hurry up and get to class.”
He walked off, leaving Jisung struggling to process. Why would he let me walk into the street without warning me?
His phone vibrated in her pocket: text messages from Minho.
sorry about leading you into the street
i swear i didn’t see the car i’m glad your friend did
i left you with him i didn’t want to interrupt you guys
i'm glad you’re okay
Jisung smiled at the phone. I knew he wouldn’t do it on purpose!
He scurried off to get to class.
That same night, he went home on the back road, the same as the night before. He thought that maybe he’d run into Minho again and they could walk together again; it didn’t occur to him that both times they had walked together he’d almost been hit by a car.
The night was different from the previous one, being more silent and more still. The animals were silent as was the road – it was highly unusual.
The silence made it that much more startling when Minho ran into his back, panting out of breath as he spoke frantically. “I’m being followed — run.”
Jisung didn’t have time to think as he grabbed his hand, forcing him to run with him. He was out of breath before he could ask him what was happening.
Minho led him into a hidden street where they stopped to quickly catch their breath and possibly where Jisung could catch an explanation.
He didn’t get the elaboration, just, “They know where I live.”
Minho’s smile had finally faded as he looked at him with nothing but fear in his eyes.
Jisung didn’t think a second time before muttering, “Come with me.” He ran out of the short street in the direction of his home, dragging Minho with him by his wrist.
He had been hesitant about leading him to his home but now seeing him possibly in danger made him forget all about the risks; all he wanted was to save his friend. He rushed to get to his house that was an average fifteen minute walk from where they were. They managed to get to his place within eight minutes, their legs aching and beads of sweat running down their cheeks.
Jisung rushed to get them both inside, dropping his keys onto the living room floor as he hurried to turn around and lock the door behind them.
He turned to him as he ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. He snapped at him, “Care to explain what’s going on?”
He frowned. “There's nothing to explain. One second I was walking and the next I was being chased.”
“But you said they knew where you lived.”
“Uh…” He trailed off and his face went blank.
Jisung reached behind his back, looking for the doorknob. “You weren’t being chased, were you?”
Minho hesitated and Jisung unlocked the door again, ready to run out at one wrong move. Minho moved to step closer to him and he turned the knob, only to find it wouldn’t budge. Jisung panicked, turning and yanking at the doorknob. The knob jiggled and clicked at the continuous force but refused to allow the door to open. Minho’s footsteps grew louder as he approached him, slamming his hand against the door, right over his shoulder
He turned to face him again, snapping, “What are you?”
He barely got the words out as a piercing pain presented itself in his stomach. Minho pulled his arm back, revealing a painted knife dripping with red blood. Jisung’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, looking up at the image of the boy he had known was too perfect to be real. His figure blurred around the edges, his entire being flickering in his line of sight. He disappeared into thin air in front of Jisung's eyes.
He looked down at his hands, seeing the knife now an inch away from his fingers. It too began to blur around the outline as his vision faded to black.