I lay on my stomach while Beomgyu applies a medicinal cream on my back.

I groan, half out of pain and half from embarrassment. I can't believe I fell in front of so many people—and twice to make things worse. If it wasn't for Beomgyu, who cheered me on to finish the course, I'd probably still be stuck with my butt in the mud, too paralyzed to get up again.

"It wasn't that bad," Beomgyu says. "Well I know the pain is bad. I mean that it isn't unusual to fall in a mud obstacle course."

"Thanks," I say, even though my heated cheeks are protesting otherwise. "I think my back will heal faster than the shame though."

Beomgyu whistles through his teeth. "Don't say that. Half of the audience have probably forgotten about your fall by now."

"I sure hope so," I say.

Beomgyu's fingers are slow and calm. As he applies the medicine, he hums the lyrics to "Our Summer." I'm painfully aware of how close we are, how he's seeing me shirtless and exposed. I notice the callousness on his fingers from his hours of practicing the guitar. They scratch slightly against my skin, like the hardened tips of paintbrushes.

He finishes much too quickly. "Alright," he says. "I think you should lay here for as long as possible. Do you think you'll be able to get up for dinner?"

"I think so," I say, not sure if I'm lying or being overly optimistic.

"We're supposed to go to a seafood hotpot restaurant tonight," he says. "But we can skip that and get something later. When your back feels better, I mean."

Beomgyu lies down on the futon next to me. He takes out his phone and scrolls through Twitter, and I wonder whether he's looking himself up or seeing the latest news about his adventures in university. My curiosity gets the best of me.

"Are you looking yourself up?" I ask.

Beomgyu shifts, turning slightly to face me. His expression darkens. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh." I realize my mistake immediately. "I don't mean that I think you're self-obsessed or anything. I was just wondering."

His voice goes quiet, and dangerously soft. "I wasn't looking myself up. I do that sometimes, but I have a life outside of wondering about what people think of me."

I don't know why Beomgyu got so disturbed by my question. I want to fix things. "I'm sorry I asked."

"It's okay if you think I'm self-obsessed," he says.

"I didn't mean that!" I say. "I was just trying to make some conversation."

"Right," Beomgyu says. "But just remember that even though I'm an idol, that doesn't mean that my image is the only thing I care about."

"I know that, Beomgyu." If I wasn't in so much pain, I would get up and face my whole body to his direction. But all I can offer is my head turned his way. "I know there's more to you than being an idol. I know you have depth and that you're a real person behind all the glamor."

Beomgyu is silent for a long while. For a horrible few minutes, I think I've screwed up things with him forever. He'll never want to be my friend. He's seen completely through me, knowing that I'm just an obsessed fan who is enamored by the sparkle of his status—even though that's only half true. I think that I'm too unworthy to be forgiven.

Beomgyu shifts again. He faces me, and this time his expression is softer—more open. "Jayden, I'm sorry. It's just that I saw something written about me right before you asked me that question."

"What was it?" I ask.

"A fan was talking about how TXT is wasting time by taking classes as Hankuk," he says. "They said we were just messing around instead of doing what we should—preparing for our next comeback. It just really makes me mad when people assume things about us. I got too caught up in my anger."

"I'm still sorry for asking that question," I say. "I know you're more than an idol with a reputation."

He goes silent again. At first, I think it's because he's still simmering with irritation. But when I look again, his eyes are closed. His earphones are in. I wonder if he's listening to some calming music to combat his raised emotions. He mumbles some lyrics. Judging by the movement of his lips, it's a slow song. Maybe a ballad.

"Jayden?"

I open my eyes. I didn't realize I was drifting off. Past Beomgyu and his mattress, I notice that the sun has already long departed from our city. The night has fallen, along with a cooler temperature and breeze which makes its way through our pair of screened windows.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"I'm still in a bad mood." Beomgyu laughs, but there's no mirth within it. "Do you want to go out for the cure for everything imaginable?"

"Ramyeon?" I feel a smile creeping on my face.

"Yup!" He gets up. Even after his shower, there's still a strip of mud across his left leg, and there's some underneath his fingernails and stuck to the bangs of his hair.

I get dressed with as much tenderness as possible. If I move too quickly, my tailbone protests with a sharp electric jolt, and I lose my footing on the ground. Beomgyu helps me put a fresh t-shirt above my head. He's still unusually silent, like the comment on Twitter is still fresh in his mind.

We make our way down the ten flights of stairs, running across no one on the way. Everyone must be at the seafood restaurant, finishing up clam, shrimp, and crab stew. But I don't mind sharing a simpler meal with Beomgyu. He makes every meal fancy and special. If ramyeon is what he needs to cheer up, I'll gladly share that time with him. It's the least I can do for everything he's done to make my Korea trip glamorous.

"Do you feel any better now?" I ask him, once we get onto the street near the hotel. We walk across to a convenience store a half block away.

His lips thin. "I don't know. It hurts to think that some of our fans are upset about us going to school."

"But you know that you made the right decision for yourself, right?"

Beomgyu sighs. "I know that. But I live my life to please my fans too. If they aren't happy, I'm not doing a good job."

"I'm sure most of them understand that you want to experience higher education," I say, making my way into the convenience store. It's empty except the cashier, who exchanges greetings with Beomgyu in Korean. I settle for a simple nod.

"Some days, the comments hurt more than most," Beomgyu says. "It's tiring to think that I have thousands of people watching my every move. Their judgements hurt more than I thought they would before debuting."

"That just means you have a high empathy," I say. "You haven't lost your emotions or become jaded. That's a big win in my book."

Beomgyu gives me a small smile. "I guess you're right. Becoming jaded is one of my worst fears."

Beomgyu and I pick out our ramyeons, and he teaches me how to read the simple instructions on the back of the plastic bowl. As we wait for the hot water in our bowls to cook the noodles, I take one more glimpse of Beomgyu's demeanor. His body language is still closed off, and the smile on his face is forced. I want to do everything in my power to cheer him up.

"Your medicine is almost ready," I tell him, pointing to the bowls.

He smiles. This one is a little more natural. "Right? I can't wait to feel better instantly. Ramyeon is a medicine unlike any other."

I smile back at him. "Beomgyu, you deserve to have an amazing time in summer school. Just like everyone else in the program."

Beomgyu smiles a bit wider. "Jayden, I'm really glad that I can be your roommate. No one else would've been so cool about rooming with an idol."

"You think I was cool?" I ask, stifling a laugh. "I could barely contain myself this whole week. I freaked out every time I realized I was rooming with you."

He laughs, filling the convenience store with warmth and glitter. "I noticed a little bit. I thought you would faint several times. Don't think I didn't see you staring at me after I came out of the shower."

"I have a perfectly good reason!" I argue. "It's just that you look so different with your hair wet. I was shocked to the core."

We both laugh this time, and Beomgyu relaxes into his usual self. The one who laughs at the slightest joke and makes light of every situation he's in. "I'm grateful for you, Jayden."

I look at him straight in the eye. A brave spark funnels its way into my vocal chords. "I don't bother you in any way?"

He quiets, looking at me with openness. "What do you mean?"

I gulp. Three weeks left. That means no time to hide my emotions. I want my whole experience in Korea to be honest and real. "I like you, Beomgyu. I don't know how else to put it."

He looks toward his ramyeon, ripping off the top cover to reveal steam and the scent of spicy seafood flavoring. "Jayden, I know."

"When did you know?" I ask, a blush coating my face.

Beomgyu sighs, but he smiles knowingly before answering. "Since the first few minutes we met," he says. "I told you not to worry. I don't find you strange or creepy in any way."

I breathe a sigh of relief. A part of me still aches, knowing I'll never be with Beomgyu in a romantic sense. But the other half of me is thankful, so relieved that Beomgyu sees me as a human being worthy of his attention.

Back home, my mother and father address my sexuality with awkwardness and masked judgement. They wonder when I could change. They point me toward different directions, saying that there's time for me to eventually fall for a girl. I don't have the heart to say that their hopes are based in lies. Their faith has led them to false beliefs, and I don't know how to translate my emotions into a proper defense.

With Beomgyu, being myself is easy. I just have to accept that he'll never see me in the way he sees a pretty girl. If I were to expect that, I'd be asking for way too much. Rooming with Beomgyu is already a blessing that I never expected in my lifetime, and I'll be stupid not to make use of these next weeks by enjoying his company. Even if friendship is the only path I can take.