hello, hello!! let me just start off my mentioning that it's been a hot minute since i've touched krp (or rp in general) cough, four years, cough so please bear with me as i adjust myself to this world again ;~;
i go by yan, and if you recognize this name....no you don't (jk, come here if you do, i literally know nobody anymore L M A O). she/her, 21+, in gmt -8 aka pst. this is my big Mess of a muse, yoo sungho, aka Traumatized Defensive Boi. here you will find his full backstory and here is his short profile that's still kinda in the works tbh. i'll eventually have a full plots page here, but for now this is what we're working with but feel free to message me for plotting things that are not on the list!! or to plot things on the list!! i just miss writing!! drop a like if you'd rather i come bother you instead and if tumblr im isn't your preferred method, i also have discord and twitter so i'm f l e x i b l e. can't wait to write with you all ~
yoo sungho, 25, class of 2014 and currently finishing up his last year in law school @ seoul national university after obtaining his bachelor's in business administration also from snu
has a younger sister by the name of yoo sunghee who he loves and adores more than anything in the world, would literally die for her
has a very straightforward and blunt personality which......has caused issues more than once
not to mention he's Flirty as hell, probably has tried to hit on your muse (if female) once or twice just for fun and it doesn't mean a thing
his secret is that despite his family being looked to as one that can't be broken apart no matter what, his mother and father are secretly separated-- his father even stopped sleeping at home for the most part
they keep up the tight family image in public so no one suspects a thing but he's honestly very Traumatized by it and its the root cause of why he is the way he is with woman, he can't seem to keep a relationship because he's never been able to see a healthy one exist
in high school and university, he always got top grades despite his disinterest in studying and more often than not, he would have been caught sleeping in class but What Can You Do
there are still details of sungho i need to flesh out but we're really going with the flow at this point :')
now, the stuff is all over the place. the floor, his couch. theyâre messy, like children, like babies. not that he expected much more from sunghoâs friends. the steady-job, the stay-at-home-on-a-work-night, the question-a-once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity.
hyun steps out of his walk-in closet with yet another one of sunghoâs non-lifers trailing after him. almost unrecognizable in borrowed valentino-and-balmain. heâd taken the liberty of dressing them all up in a way that wouldnât embarrass him, or anyone else, at the party. at least sungho canât say hyun never did anything for them. hyun pats this guyâs back like theyâre the best of friends, then lets him back into the fold.Â
hyun dogwhistles. âyoo sungho,â he calls, like a drill sergeant. sungho the third makeover of the night. he tilts his head towards the inside of his closet, and doesnât wait for sungho to move before walking back inside. leisurely, he browses his racks and racks of neatly-pressed and well-arranged clothing for something that might look good on his friend.
he feels alive, alert; everything feels on edge.Â
ironic, really, given the circumstances and the events leading up to their current situation: him and his friends lounging in hyunâs apartment as the former dresses them up to match the event that they are all supposedly headed to shortly. for his friends, this may be something new and an opportunity of a lifetime but when you are born into the silver spoon lifestyle , you become numb to such events and they begin to lose their spark-- their sense of desirability. the phrase âan opportunity of a lifetimeâ becomes thrown around like the current trend and he is indifferent to such matters but hyun is trying, really trying to accommodate himself into sunghoâs circle, so he supposes the least he can do is play along.
sungho is slouched against one of the seats in the room, eyes hyper-focused on the hazy figure of hyun and one of his friends as they exit the closet, hands clapping and a light laugh emitting past his lips as if praising the 5-minute âmake-overâ in hyunâs closet. âyou look better than you ever could!â words slightly slurred as he welcomes his friend back into their little disorganized circle. he hears his name and instantly perks up, index finger raising and pointing towards himself as if to ask, âme?âÂ
you idiot, sungho, of course hyun is talking to you.
there is a slight delay before he makes it from the couch to where hyun stands, probably due to the fact that he trips over someoneâs feet and stumbles into a pile of something he canât decipher but none of that matters-- heâs standing with a foolishly large grin on his face beside his friend. âokay okay, iâm here.â hiccup. âwhy do i need a makeover anyway, iâve got all the money to spend and a closet twice your size.â heâs frowning now, child-like, back to roots in his most vulnerable state with doses of who-knows-what in his system. but itâs hyun, he trusts him.Â
sungho slings an arm around the slightly older male as his eyes dancing around each piece of clothing though he can never stay focused on a piece for too long. a hiccup escapes his lips here and there, evidence that heâs far from his normal state, even past any state he has ever been in when high. itâs a different world when he hangs out with hyun, he tends to go harder and fall back into the routine of 17 year old sungho, experimenting with anything and everything.Â
âlemme see what new things you have in your closet anyway, tour time!âÂ
truth - âwhat do you do for the people you love the most in your life?â
the question brings sungho to curate a mental list of those he considers himself to love, and to love in all of its different shapes and forms.
first, there is sunghee, the little baby sister of his who has never grown up in his eyes-- he would die for her if it came to such a tragic ending. there isn't a single person on this planet aside from her that holds the place she does in his heart.
next comes alex and matthew, his two best friends who he would (and most likely has) go to the ends of the earth for. whether they needed something as simple as food picked up to their place or something more complex like a hideout at his place, he's more than willing to lend a helping hand.
then come the girls: sabrina, sujeong, somin, and nabi. each hold a different place in his heart for very different reasons but there hasn't been an instance where he has found it in him to say no to anything they request of him. he hears the whispers that he's a pushover, he's whipped, he's this and that; perhaps there is merit to such words but its their relationship with him and he knows they would do the same for him.
lastly, there is his mother. truth be told the woman barely made it on the list, with sungho being unsure of whether what he feels for her is love at all, but she is his mother after all and while his words may say differently, his actions have proven time after time that he is willing to do whatever it takes to protect her.
"i suppose the simple answer is anything and everything. i don't question motives or reasons, if i care about you, that's enough reason for me."
thenâa trifecta of bad omens, lightning and thunder shake the room in quick succession before something in their ceiling goes off with an audible pop. the phone falls over where itâd been propped up, and theyâre thrown back into abrupt darkness again. somin freezes, head turning up with a sharp movement, a little ungainly in a moment caught off guard and unbalances right into his chest. she brushes it off in vain. âwhat elseâs breaking down,â she mutters, mood souring. her tone takes a sharp edge, though pride keeps it from going too whiny. moves a little closer to sungho, hiding herself in his arms for a moment. itâs not all too convincing that sheâd just missed something warm around her at this point.
âokay, lifeguard,â she says, slides both hands up across his shoulders to wind them around his neck, bringing her legs to settle on either side of sungho. âif you fix that,â words spoken so close her lips brush against his, pink tongue darting out for a moment. her hips sit right over his in a familiar preview of things to comeâif whatever that was gets fixed. thunder rumbles defiantly against her plans. fuck nature. âi guess we can continueâŚâ
the continuation of kisses mixed in with the sensation of her warm hands against his raw skin has sungho chasing a high, eyes closed as his body melts into her touch. his own hands find their way underneath the delicate fabric of her shirt, wandering into known territory as they glide against her soft skin. but every high has a low and as the sounds of thunder and flashes of lightning echo the room, sungho canât help but grumble when their lips part ways and the faint light coming from his phone ceases, bringing them back to darkness. âfuck this storm...â he mumbles under his breath, arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her frame before tilting his head to the side at her words.Â
âmm, but...â he gently rolls his hips under her straddle, the motion continuous as he then proceeds to flip their positions so somin lies on top of the mattress and he is now above her. he leans down and pecks her lips ever so gently as if he would break her if he had been any rougher. the flashes of lightening prove to be of some use as he notes her flushed appearance in the split second of illumination that shines through the window of their room. âi kinda like the darkness. like you said, romantic.â and thereâs a smug smile on his slightly plump lips, a hand grazing her cheeks. though with his words, he does reach over to the nightstand and prop his phone back up, once again illuminating the room with a faint yellow hue. itâs only then that he realizes the lack of battery he has remaining, a mere 5% to last them until the storm is done-- or at least until theyâre done. âone sec.â he mumbles, shifting off of somin, feet landing softly against hardwood flooring as he uses the remaining bit of battery life he has left to light the way as he searches for his portable battery pack.Â
he spots it momentarily, a few steps away from where he currently stands and he swiftly picks up the cable from its home on the floor, plugging one end into the device and turning the power bank on as he watches the screen of his phone flash brightly to indicate being charged. once again, the device is propped back up on the nightstand but with endless battery now and he turns to somin, raising an eyebrow and smirking. âyou didnât specify what you want me to fix, so technically i fixed it.âÂ
before he crawls back into bed with her he makes sure to push them one step forward by disposing of the oversized shirt hanging from his frame, fabric hitting the ground softly without a noise, followed by the quiet sound of metal hitting the nightstand as he places his glasses down. the sudden chilliness hits him and he resists the urge to shiver, footsteps leading him towards her and as another crack of lightning sounds, heâs back in bed, hips straddling her tiny frame and both hands flattening themselves atop his pillow and framing her face. âhi.â he breathes out, a soft smile before a switch flips and his sweet gaze is replaced by one of hunger. he brings one of her hands to rest against his hip, right where the waistband of his boxers peek out from underneath his sweats, leaving it to somin to wander as she pleases.Â
he has other things to focus on as his lips find hers once more, this time the kiss is sloppy and rushed; he kisses like he wants her, maybe even needs her. the hand that held hers finds its way underneath her shirt again as nimble fingers make their way around to her back, wrapping themselves around the fabric of her bra before he unhooks it with one swift move. he pushes the undergarment upwards and instantly molds his hand around her breast, gently kneading as a soft moan escapes his lips and he manages get the speak a few breathy words.
âtell me to stop and fix the lights if thatâs whatâs really on your agenda.â
and there are no ends, to old friends â @chrwoohyun
sungho learned at a young age that money can buy many things.
the boy witnessed first hand as his parents spent dollar after dollar keeping mouths shut about their family life, and he came to think of this as the norm; that everyone spent their money either keeping information from leaking or persuading information to be leaked.
it's how he lands himself in his current position, face near plastered against the glass window of a dainty furniture shop as his eyes peer deep past the items for sale, trying to locate the particularly striking figure by the name of shin woohyun. his old high school buddy, the chandler to his joey, the two had been inseparable in everyone's eyes and not without good reason either. sungho could have easily called woohyun one of his best friends and it wouldn't have been a lie. he wonders if woohyun looks any different now in comparison to back then-- the good ol' hannam days where people often gossiped about the dashing pair.
his answer comes in the form of a tall male, the same baby face as when they had been teenagers and sungho finds a soft smile creeping onto his lips at the sight of his old friend; the past years hadn't changed him very much, it seems.
sungho takes a moment to observe before moving from the glass window to the door of the store, pushing it open and causing a bell to go off, signaling his entrance. the door quietly closes behind him as he stands and faces woohyun, waiting for the other to notice his presnece-- and when he does, sungho flashes him a friendly smile.
"so this is where you've been, huh?"
no hostility can be heard in his words, just a simple statement.
and he remembers his father's words: "money well spent will always find the something or someone that you are looking for."
would you please stop acting like the ex i never had â @chrjoohyun
coffee on the way to his classes has become a routine for sungho despite having a perfectly well-functioning coffee machine at home. it sits atop his white countertop, next to the microwave and in perfect reach yet he chooses to make a stop at the little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop about a five minute drive from seoul national university's campus. it all started one fall afternoon when one of his classmates suggested meeting there for a group project since it's close to school-- no objection on anyone's end, convenience always wins. ever since then he has come to love the little shop, with it becoming a staple in both his life and the neighbourhood in the midst of all constant changes.
despite having woken up later than usual, it seems that traffic is on his side as he pulls over to the side of the street and places his car in park before quickly making his way over to the coffee shop, noting he still has at least 30 minutes to spare. friendly greetings are exchanged as he has come to be on quite good terms with the owner having been a regular customer over the years. they know his order at this point, an iced americano and a butter croissant, and he simply needs to insert his card for payment and stand to the side and wait. now, normally he would strike up a conversation with the barista or maybe the owner, whoever is around and not too busy but today is different. he spots a familiar face a few tables away and there's an almost audible gasp that escapes his lips.
kwon joohyun, probably one of the few people he can truly say actually hate him with a passion. or at least, last he checked she did.
a good few years have passed since they last interacted, not counting him liking a picture of hers here and there on social media, but she hasn't changed much. the same youthful appearance, though perhaps the way she dresses is a tad more mature these days. he fights an internal battle of whether or not to say hello, whether he even has her permission to do so with the way they had ended things. but before he can come to a decision, his order is called, though sungho is too deep in thought to hear it. it must have been the third or fourth time the barista tried to get his attention before his eyes widen and he turns to grab his drink and the neatly folded brown paper bag that holds his croissant. he bows and apologizes, wary of the other customer's eyes on him.
he decides right then and there that if he had taken such deep thought to his decision, he should probably just go for it. after all, it's been years-- she can't still hate him, right? so he makes casual strides over to her table, stopping just before he can get too close but makes sure he is close enough for her to notice his presence. sungho clears his throat to catch her attention, his free hand rising to wave ever so slightly.
 but then he continued and jamie couldnât really help the sigh. she put a hand against his chest , the smile faded and a rather stern gaze fixed at him. â thatâs enough. iâll handle it , donât worry okay? just go join friends and iâll come by soon. â honestly , at this point she didnât speak out of the care of her customers , they didnât deserve that but if things got worse and the younger was caught in the cross fire , he wouldâve been hurt and it wouldâve been her fault.Â
  the other man rises and she gets between the two , in that moment looking like a bit of a lost puppy between the sea of hyenas , everyone being worked up wasnât going to be much of help so jamie had to choose a calmer approach. â sir. iâm so sorry for the disruption , please take a seat and enjoy the rest of your evening. â she tries to diffuse but neither one is ready to back out and sunghoâs voice rings once again , the threat clear and before jamie can object , sheâs being grabbed and is almost thrown off to the side by the provoked man. itâs within a fraction of second everything happens , he walks up to the younger man with a charged up right hook that he doesnât hesitate to throw , jamie on her feet again , exasperated and mostly.. annoyed , she grabs the back of his jacket and pulls him away from her friend only to return the favour in the form of an attack that wouldâve at least cracked the bones in his nose. it was fine until jamie was the target , but you donât come into her bar and declare war against the people close to her.Â
the second he sees movement towards jamie, he is quick to turn his attention towards the older female, but not quick enough as he witnesses her being grabbed by the male he had provoked mere moments ago. if he hadn't been fuelling with rage earlier, he most definitely is now. messing with him is fine, he can handle himself now that he's older and has bulked up in comparison to when him and jamie first met back in high school; but the root cause of this entire scene had been their group against jamie and he isn't about to let that go.
"don't fucking touch her you scu--"
his words are cut off by the impact of the other male's fist to his cheek, sungho stumbling backwards as he scrambles to catch his balance at the blow. his hands are thrown forward and immediately hit the surface of a table nearby as he uses the piece of furniture to steady himself, eyes rapidly blinking and a hand reaching up to touch the part of his left face that had been hit. he tries his hardest to control his expression despite the stinging ringing through his entire body, he can't let the other male feel the satisfaction and he also isn't about to stand down.
before he can even stand back up straight, he sees jamie retaliating for him and had it been anyone else, he would feel a hit to his pride. he doesn't have the luxury to think about that though, as he quickly charges forward at the male, his right leg lifting to land a harsh blow to the other's stomach as he remains hunched over from jamie's punch. sungho very quickly decides that the blow to the stomach isn't enough and before anyone can retaliate, he lands a secondary punch to the face that will absolutely leave a mark the next morning. all that is missing from the scene is some spit towards to the other male but sungho is a hannam kid and hannam kids are classier than that.
or so they say.
"noona, are you okay?" he rushes to ask, taking a moment to spare a glance her way as the other male's group huddle around their very clearly injured friend. "you're not hurt anywhere are you?" he scans her up and down, but at the same time trying his best to keep an eye on the other group across from them in case any feel the desire for more action. he won't say no to keeping the peace from this point onward but he also isn't one to back down from a fight should another one start.
soooooo tumblr decided to it would be fun to mess with me and deleted all my drafts...đ sorry to everyone who's been waiting on me to finally reply/post their starter, it's now going to take even longer as i figure out what i owe and re-write everything i had started. if i owe you a reply or starter, please please feel free to reach out and give me a nudge, i'm Old and have a Bad Memory so i'll, more likely than not, forget something in the midst of all this đ
if you were to ask matthew why he likes golfing, heâll say itâs because itâs peaceful. name any other sport you can play alone, miles away from people.
hence, his âgolfing weekendsâ are sacred for him, he doesnât just invite anyone to join him. theyâll have to be someone he would trust with his lifeâŚ
is â is sungho holding a megaphone? his eyes widen. he thought it was a joke. just a harmless one-time remark about how sungho thought matthew looked like a sugar daddy (âsometimes!â he clarified but matthew still shuddered at that) and how they should announce an opening for his sugar baby (no, god no) at the golf club one day.
heâs messing with me, matthew reasons, but as soon as his friend turns on the megaphone â proving that thereâs indeed batteries in that thing â matthew realises heâs anything but joking.
dropping his golfing stick and abandoning the ball, he makes a beeline towards the other. âno, donât even think about it. hand it over.â
golfing isn't exactly sungho's ideal weekend but leave it to him to get sucked into this tradition with matthew after agreeing just that one time. but then again, he remembers the honour bestowed upon him upon receiving a regular invite to what is usually the older male's solitary time away from the world-- so in a way, there's gratitude thrown into the pool of mixed feelings he has for being here.
this weekend is a tad different though.
while still clad in slim-fitting white pants and an equally slim-fitting black polo shirt, sungho walks out from the clubhouse onto the course with his golf clubs in tow, except his free hand is busy lugging around a megaphone which he will use to get his plan rolling. though he barely gets to begin before matthew interjects, worry written all over the other's face and sungho laughs before taking a step back. "now now, i will do no such thing. not my fault you took my comment as a joke that time."
and its then that he takes his preliminary scan of the golf course itself; perhaps something he should have done prior to coming onto the course but better late than never, he supposes.
"ladies and gentleman, attention!" he speaks into the megaphone, voice loud and clear as it catches the attention of all those in their vicinity. "pardon me for interrupting the serenity of your weekend but my good friend here," a pause as he gestures to matthew, a smirk on his lips. "is looking for a sugar baby. if there are any potential candidates, please report to the front desk of the clubhouse as they are aware of the situation. now please, enjoy the rest of your day here on the course."
he waits a few seconds before fully cracking up in laughter, megaphone turned off and now gently placed by his feet on the grass. "oh that was so worth it. i hope we get you some potentials, dude."
[ truth ] fmk the last three people you hung out with
"pause. i need to figure out who i was last with first."
sungho brings out his phone and scrolls through both his text messages and photo album, for something in there must indicate to him the last three people he hung out with. he goes out a lot, sees a lot of people, it's only normal to be confused as to which day he saw who and when; at least he thinks. "okay so..." he starts off, a finger pointing to the screen of his cellular device. "according to messages, photos, instagram story archives, and the like...i apparently last hung out with somin, matthew, and alex. separately, in case you care." another pause, this time he is deep in thought over the childish question. "well the first one is easy, fuck somin-- and not just âcause sheâs the only girl in the group." he winks, then laughs at his own antics. "moving on: as for the other two, i guess i'd marry alex, we hang out so much sometimes it feels that way anyway so we might as well certify it. i guess that leaves..." another pause, this time for dramatic effect. "kissing matthew? that is what you meant by the 'k', right? and just to be clear, iâd douse my mouth in mouthwash after.â
itâs a friday night which means itâs taehyunâs night to splurge on himself with delivery food from his favorite chinese restaurant and beer from the cu down the road. he cracks open a can of hite, taking a swig and then puffing another hit off his cigarette. being able to relax is always a welcome comfort, even if he does have to be at work early the next day. at least heâll have leftover jjajangmyun and sweet and sour pork for tomorrowâs dinner. the door bell ringing takes him by surprise; he had only just placed his food order a few minutes prior but he wouldnât ever say no to speedy service.Â
âjust a moment!â he yells out in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette and stamping it out on the window sill, tossing it to the road below. after blowing the smoke out the window, he stands up and slips on his house shoes, shuffles to the front door. he looks like a wreck, he got off of work and immediately threw on his sweats from the day before, but a delivery driver shouldnât care.
âwoah,â he says as he opens the door to see none other than yoo sungho. âyou are definitely not my dinner order.â Â
never in a million years would sungho have thought that he would find himself in the dingiest part of gangnam, an apartment building attached to the flashy address but visually looks to be miles apart. had it not been his worrisome nature over his good friend taehyun not picking up the phone or answering messages throughout the week, he would have never been prompted to make a visit to the moon family home where he found out something that perhaps he shouldnât have. the initial shock of realizing taehyun no longer lives at home wore off quite fast upon noting the new address in one of seoulâs flashiest neighbourhoods but alas, he thinks he must have heard wrong, for there is no way someone coming from the background that the moons do would be caught dead here. though it does say something that despite being in a crappy part of gangnam, itâs still considered to be âniceâ in comparison to the rest of seoul.Â
nonetheless, sungho finds himself standing in front of the door to which taehyunâs mother insisted to be correct after a quick phone call had been made upon arrival, confusion still etched upon his facial features. a quick ring of the doorbell has his arm falling quickly back to his side upon hearing a familiar voice on the other side of the door. it really is taehyun...he thinks, as he takes a quick step away from the door, almost as if he is running away from the new found reality, as if creating a distance between them will make this whole thing not true. of course, it doesnât work and the door swings open to reveal one of his high school best friends looking disheveled as ever and sungho isnât shy to voice it.Â
âgod you look terrible.âÂ
well shit.Â
a hand reaches up towards the back of his neck as he awkwardly stands before the other male, eyes averting their gaze to anywhere but the doorframe where his good friend stands. âwhat i meant to say was--â he stops himself, not really knowing exactly what else he could have meant and instead, offering up a soft chuckle, fitting to their humorous situation. âno iâm not your dinner order but if food is on the way, iâm coming in.â and without even pausing for a moment to allow taehyun to complain or tell him to leave, sungho gently pushes past his friend and makes his way into the small space that is taehyunâs humble abode. âitâs uh....nice here.â he manages to get out, a lie so obvious that even he couldnât believe he let himself say it. itâs definitely no moon residence in all its glitz and glamour but he figures that as long as there is a roof over taehyunâs head, sungho can worry just a little less.
it was strange for her to be on campus as often as she was despite no longer attending the school. to some, it was ridiculous to be lying about her internship to her mother. some would even argue that being able to land an internship position directly following graduation was something to boast about. however, mimiâs situation was a particular one, making it much easier on herself to convince her mother that she was continuing her education. consequently, this meant needing to gather âevidenceâ of such to provide every now and then. from selfies with friends to snapshots of her lunch in the cafeteria, mimi was constantly providing her mother with updates on her wellbeing and campus life.Â
lost in thought, mimi was too distracted to keep note of her surroundings, subsequently brushing shoulders without notice. the collision wasnât enough to cause harm, but enough to cause her phone to fall from her grasp. âshit.â she muttered, watching it drop with a sigh before finally taking action and squatting down to pick it up. upon quick examination, mimi found no visible scratches or cracks, and smiled with relief.Â
âiâm so sorry about that, i shouldâve watched where i wasâ oh my gosh!â her apology was cut short as she looked up at the familiar face that loomed over her own petite figure. âyoo sungho, right? iâm ito misakiâ mimi. we were briefly at hannam together.âÂ
being two years older than herself, there was little chance of the other actually recognizing who she was. not to mention, sheâd only ever recalled hearing of him rather than actually speaking to him. but tomato, tomato; the past was the past. it was time to start anew and a little networking never hurt anyone. considering hannamâs wide range of alumni, it was one of many benefits that came with graduating from the alma mater.Â
âitâs been so long! how are you?â
seoul national university is a beautiful work of art, if he must say so himself. it is a rare occurrence where sungho doesnât spot a group of tourists, amazed by the architecture and natural beauty of the greenery surrounding the school, or simply people who wish to utilize the yellow hues of golden hour hitting just the right spots against buildings for the backdrop of their latest Instagram post. he has learned to watch where he is going (mostly) and avoid such individuals at all costs but as they say, no one is perfect.Â
the bump isnât enough to truly knock him down, but sungho does find himself stumbling momentarily as he catches his footing and the grip he has around his iced coffee instinctively tightens upon impact, his free hand catching the strap of his black leather bacpack before it manages to fall off his broad shoulder and onto the ground. he has half a mind to scold whoever the other is (he would guess a lost soul trying to find their way around but alas, he would be wrong) but the sound of his name has him stopping in his tracks, eyes searching for a hint of familiarity from the female.Â
âthatâs me...huh, hannam you say?âÂ
the fact that the name mimi does not ring a bell is an immediate realization but he offers a few brief seconds of pondering to save the girl some face, and also for him to reorganize his belongings so that his backpack is now properly resting against his shoulders and his oversized bomber jacket is smoothed out once again. he shouldnât be surprised that he is recognized by juniors of his alma mater, sungho had a reputation back then for being the school flirt (read: he still holds such a reputation, he simply chooses to ignore the truth) and he assumes the girl standing before him had been one of his many encounters.Â
âmm, right, mimi. we crossed paths a few times, itâs coming back to me now!â it really isnât.
he flashes her a smile, almost a genuine one; he is banking on her not knowing him well enough (or even at all) to tell the difference. âiâve been good, yâknow, busy. how about you? do you...go here? i havenât seen you around before but then again...â sungho trails off mid-sentence as he gestures to the entirety of their campus that paints their current background. âsnu is far too big to see everyone.âÂ
august 24th, a date that means nothing to most; where most stands for people not in hannam's social circle, that is. because if you are anyone at all or connected to anyone at all, you learn to recognize the date as the birth of none other than sabrina park. year-after-year the girl throws a lavish birthday celebration and sungho uses it as an excuse to let loose, to forget about life in general and bask in the celebrations of an old friend, a treasured friend. he also uses it as an excuse to gift her something dumb in their age old tradition of exchanging gag gifts and he's up to bat now.
earlier in the year he received a box of bandages to which she then went on to explain would be necessary in the healing of his broken heart. he remembers looking at her quizzically but not bothering to push for further clarification; after all, who says gag gifts need reasoning anyway, right? and it's for this exact point that he rests his back against the metal railing in the elevator that leads directly to her penthouse suite (he thinks its probably one of the few that rivals his own living quarters), a neatly wrapped box in hand with a small handwritten note taped to the very top. it had been written in a rush so his handwriting is slightly legible at best but he doesn't think sabrina will even read it anyway, the girl will be more interested in his gift than anything.
the ding of the elevator signals he has reached his final destination.
finally. he thinks as he steps out from the metal box, ears instantly hit with the chattering of voices, the "casual soiree" has evidently begun and he makes his way from the elevator doors into her penthouse, eyes on high alert for his target. people smile his way as he passes and sungho does the same, stopping momentarily to talk to those who try to strike up a conversation with him, nodding along and smiling, acting as if he has any interest in the conversation itself (spoiler alert: he doesn't), even offering some insight into whatever topic they are on before brown orbs lock on the image of a girl laughing near the back and he excuses himself. "sab!" he yells, voice echoing over the songs booming from the speakers. "happy birthday and welcome to the old people's club." a sheepish grin dons his lips before he goes in for a hug.
âsure, sure,â she says rolling her eyes a little at him. when sungho leaves, she takes a moment to stare at the camera. âheâs so needy, huh? but i know all of you are going to be falling over him in the comments. i do read them, after all.â her voice lowers and her eyes narrow. âyouâre only feeding his ego.â jisu takes a few moments to fix her hair in the camera before looking out over the view as she waits for sungho to return with their tickets to visit the top of the tower. an even better view, she thinks. with the sun almost down all the way, she canât help but feel an almost overwhelming sense of childlike excitement.Â
she smiles when he returns, spare hand holding onto his arm as they move toward the entrance to stay close. âyes, of course! we have to seal our friendship forever, right? as long as you promise to always be nice to me and come with me on more fun adventures, i think iâd like to keep you,â jisu says reaching to squeeze his cheeks together with a small giggle. âplus i think itâs more practical to share a lock with a friend.â jisu keeps a smile on her face before turning forward again toward the camera. âshall we go up? iâll see you guys at the top.â she reaches to turn it off, giving her arm a rest and also wanting to just enjoy some moments with sungho without documenting it like a reality tv star. âwe have to get some food after this. what do you think youâll be hungry for?â
âoh no, iâm stuck with you forever? i donât--â his words are cut off when she squeezes his cheeks, his expression turning sour at her actions. itâs funny, what started as a joke about him being her little puppy has morphed into something bigger, with her seemingly always finding some way of treating him as such, whether it be a squish of the cheeks or perhaps she ruffles his hair. for someone who is supposed to be younger than him, it seems the roles are reversed in their relationship and sungho is like the younger one. in a way he doesn't mind; having to be the older sibling at home can be tiresome and if being around jisu can be an escape from that, he supposes it isn't all that bad. his barely finished sentence is forgotten as he wriggles out of her grasp, immediately shooting her a look but proceeding to burst into laughter not long after. "you talk to me like i'm actually your little puppy." dark hazel orbs find the viewfinder of her camera and he takes a few steps back so he isn't too close to the device and hogging up the frame with just half his face. "can you guys tell her i'm a human too, just like herself and you all?"
once she turns the camera off, he breathes out a breathe of relief. it isn't that he is opposed to being filmed by her or that he dislikes being on camera, but sometimes he would prefer to simply enjoy life and the moments with not only jisu, but his friends in general and he figures she has enough documentation for now anyway. "hm?" his ears instantly perk up when he hears her mention food. okay maybe there's some merit to the puppy thing. "you really thought we would just call it a night without food? but come on, let's finish here first and then decide on a dinner location!" he leads her through the doors after showing their tickets, scanning their barcodes and having their entrance verified with a small stamp on the back of their hand. the elevator to the top dings just as they arrive, stainless steel doors opening to reveal their bright and roomy ride up to the top. he casually reaches over to jisu, looping her arm through his as they enter the elevator, sungho leaning slightly forward to press the button with a gentle push. "so once we're up there," he turns his head to the girl as their elevator ascends, bring both of them up to the observatory deck. "they have this cool thing where each different window panel shows you a different city that you're supposedly facing. now i never bothered to fact check but i assume they're right."
mother knows best, except itâs a lie â @suranchrââ
"itâs an upscale restaurant, surely you have something better than that.âÂ
âmother, this is a dormeuil vanquish suit. what more could you possibly want from me?âÂ
sungho replays the conversation in his head as he is seated at the back of one of seoulâs best steakhouses, a carefully curated private setting that his mother explicitly ordered the restaurant to create. only the best for his son, she had said. he thinks she is going overboard but allegedly his dinner date for the evening is someone who his mother is sure he will like and she is hardly ever this sure of something. his eyes wander around the open area of the restaurant, waiters bustling back and forth and tables chattering amongst themselves as they enjoy their lavish meal. surely he isnât under-dressed in the sea of other suits that he can very quickly tell cost far less than his own. typical, worrisome for nothing. he thinks, a shake of his head and a light chuckle as he turns his attention to his phone that lies face down on the white tablecloth.Â
picking the device up, he takes note of the time and takes a quick look around for a visual of his date for the night. his mother described her as a lean figure, auburn locks that go past modest shoulders, slightly above average in height with delicate facial features. the description would have been helpful, had he not been in this setting where just about anyone could have been his date for the night. he wonders why his mother never showed him a picture so he could at least spot the woman in a crowd but itâs a bit late for that now. he supposes she will arrive when she does and he shifts his focus to the device in his hand in the meanwhile, replying to messages and scrolling social media, taking intermittent sips of water as he does so.Â
the minutes pass by but he barely notices, only being disturbed when he notes the appearance of sudden shadow over the table he occupies, looking up from his phone only to be faced with potentially the last person he wants to see in a situation like this. myo suran is an old classmate at best, definitely nowhere near a friend and barely scratching the surface of acquaintanceship; a little more than a stranger, though he wishes she could be one. the only thing they could possibly have in common is surviving hannam high school but if thatâs his motherâs new basis of arranging dates for him, he would be going on dates with half of seoul at this rate. but nonetheless, he has an image of the yoo family to keep up so despite his burning desire to roll his eyes and walk away, he bares a stiff smile to the hostess, thanking her for bringing over his âdateâ and dismissing her before he turns to the female, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
