everyone hears about the parties but she’s never one to come and crash as her acquaintances would suggest. true, it was her thing. the reckless deeds. but the closest she’s thought of coming was to make a disaster out of it. the talks about the ‘invite list’ was silly to her. she imagined the guy to be a prick who thinks he’s better than anyone else at school. when the flash of annoyance comes, so does a bad idea.
the reason it didn’t happen was because she’d excuse it was a ‘colossal waste of time’ when there were other things she could be doing. at home. like watching netflix, putting on a full face make up only to be in her pajamas regretting the repercussions because her skin is sensitive to cosmetics, buying chicken nuggets in the dead of the night or eating something else equally unhealthy, going out for a walk for no particular reason (she calls it exploring).
the reason it still hasn’t happened is because she finally met the guy. and at a very unlikely place. there were strangers in the karaoke room yet she's shamelessly performed her all time favorite song: bohemian rhapsody. full on with expressions, gestures, the little acted out scenes, miming, dancing, parts where there was audience participation - everything. when it ends, she plops down the couch, leaning against her hand, fingers splayed starfish on the surface, while the other cards through the tousled strawberry blonde hair that she didn’t cover with a dark brown wig today. she hums along carefree to the songs or she sings them quietly in her corner for the rest of the time and sits just observing everyone in the room.
not that she was exhausted. she had the energy of a bull. but that was her ultimate move, meaning it was all there is to see. otherwise it's bits of mediocre performances throughout the night over a banging opening.
she hadn’t realized who she was sitting next to. “you ever get that realization that you’re not actually cool? that you’re just room temperature? because that’s me right now.” she says out of nowhere, absentmindedly, downing her shirley temple as her eyes fixate on the screen. with the lights dimmed, every glance she’d take toward the seatmate would barely give her an idea who it was. a whole night flew by without her fully knowing. when it ends and it’s time to go, she bids him goodbye with the classic line that goes ‘we should hang out sometime’ which was sincere coming from her. before she leaves, last minute, she asks for a name. the moment it’s shared, it dawns upon her. this was the prick.
of course, she acts cool and calm over the discovery. room temperature at the least. the agreed meet up happens, going on for a second, a third, until they were regularly taking recess together in school and everyone’s talking about it. first impressions were revealed, and slowly on her side, seunghun permeates her every thought. she rehearses responses to him, rehearses the news she’d share, the stories. she’d imagine his reaction. her mind’s eye would see the how the light plays on his skin. each time he smiles, there’s a rush of warmth. a spark of hope for something between them.
normally eccentrics thoughts and ideas soon were replaced by the melancholy longing of what could be if she had enough of the guts to tell him. she had logged all his quirky mannerisms, recalled the every way he styled his hair, daydreamed every feature on his face. as if her brain was overridden. it was as it is; terrible.
