"It smells good," Jungwon exclaimed from his seat at the table. Since it was an apartment, the kitchen and the living room were both connected; as such, he was watching every movement I made as I did my magic. Truthfully? I don't think I minded that much.

Though my anger was slowly, slowly beginning to rise to the surface again, I did a classic and expected thing by ignoring that and just enjoying the moment. Jungwon was joking around and acting as if nothing had ever happened between us, and I was seizing the chance just in case things between us went completely sour. I was prepared for that one very slim possibility, too.

"It's not completely done yet," I laughed at him, waving the wooden spoon in my hand in a reprimanding sort of way, but mocking. "Patience, child."

"I'm older than you," he complained, still grinning.

"By a couple of months," I observed. "So...I take it you like tteokbokki better than you used to?"

"Yep. Sunoo hyung is literally obsessed with it. Well, not really, but he likes it very much so we order it often just to make him happy. I guess I've developed a taste for it."

"See," I teased, "sacrificing for others isn't always going to turn out bad! Sunoo is one of your members, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "And, I guess not. One thing hasn't changed, though—no matter how much he orders mint chocolate, it is horrible. I suppose it's not as bad as I thought, but still..." he mock-shudders. "Ew. Just, no."

"Come on, it's not that bad," I objected, stirring the pan a little absently. Please don't let me burn this. "Mint chocolate is good, insensitive oaf."

"I'm not that tall! And it is disgusting! Literally toothpaste!"

"Maybe compared to your members, but you're somewhere above average height, Yang Jungwon," I deadpanned. "A giant compared to five-one shorties like me. And no, it is not disgusting. Your tastes are less refined."

"You're calling like half the K-Pop industry—"

"Being famous and amazingly talented doesn't mean you have good taste in ice cream."

"Harsh," he grumbled, watching me as I brought the pan off the heat. "So you think I'm talented?"

"I've always known that, idiot," I said with more affection than I meant to show, quickly yet carefully scraping the contents of the pan into the two bowls I had set aside earlier. "Besides...to deny it is dumb. You had to be talented to score the top ranking."

"Did you actually watch I-LAND to know that?" he was watching me carefully when I turned around with the bowls in both hands.

"Nope," I shook my head, strangely unashamed about admitting that. "We can go into why later. But I know that because one of my classmates is a fan of you guys and let me tell you, she talks about you and the oldest dude way too much. Actually, not really, but she's crazy about you both, is what I mean."

"Ah." He looked embarrassed, accepting the bowl from me. "I see. Are you really going to tell me why you didn't watch it, or not? I don't mind if you don't tell."

"We'll see," I responded, opening the drawer to the left of the sink and handing him a pair of chopsticks. "I got these last night with the takeout I ordered—I never used them though. Lost my appetite."

"Thanks." He accepted them, staying silent when I didn't say anymore. I sat down next to him since the chair across the table had a box sitting on it. Jungwon didn't ask what was in it, and I didn't tell him that it contained my father's belongings in the now-towed-off-to-the-dump car and his workplace, either. Just looking at it made me want to cry.

I took a deep breath, leveling myself, reminding myself of who was right next to me. I didn't think it would actually work, but when he actually brought his arm a little closer to mine, it did. I still didn't say anything, thinking about what had happened in the years since we met. Almost ten years. Not quite ten, but close enough that it hurt to know of how many of those years had been spent the way they were.

"What are you thinking about?" Jungwon asked after a short period of eating in silence. He'd not made a comment yet, even as he snapped a picture of his bowl, to my surprise.

"How sad my youth was," I chose to answer.

He turned his head to me. "You're still seventeen..."

"I know, but can you call this my youth?" I gestured to myself, to my surroundings, to my mother's room, where she was asleep yet again, choosing to imprison himself in her dreams. "How, Jungwon? Working myself to the bone to support us both, studying to keep myself distracted but finding that it never works, only doing it because I have to, constantly trying not to drown under the grieving waves in my head? Wanting my best friend to come to me more than anything? How?"

His eyes didn't widen; rather, they lowered and he bit his lip. His guilt was evidenced in his expression, and I had to laugh bitterly. Maybe I was being horrible—so what? I think I deserved some time to be horrible. A chance to slap him back in the face.

I loved him. But I also resented him more than anyone else in the world.

"My youth was pretty damn tragic, if you ask me," I continued, standing up and picking up my empty bowl. Wordlessly, he slid over his own empty one to me, and I took it with a gentleness I didn't feel. "Waiting and waiting for someone who was too busy in his own world to spare me another thought...knowing that I was feeling exactly what I knew I would feel when you first pushed me away and apologized for it...what did you think I would feel, Jungwon, when you did what you did?"

"I did think of you, every day," he said, his voice only an octave or two higher than a whisper. "How could I not?"

"Jungwon, I appreciate that you're honest," I dropped the dishes in the sink and turned to look him dead in the eye. "But admitting your faults isn't enough for me. I know I'm being selfish, and I don't care. I've been living like this too long to care even remotely." That is a lie, and I know it, but I don't care. Again. "Explain to me what went through your head when it all happened. I know, Jungwon, I know all too well that trainees and idols can't usually keep in contact with their old friends...especially ones of the opposite gender. If your agencies and fans found out...

"But I don't care. I was more than a friend to you. I was your best friend, Jungwon, and I know too well that the feelings I caught for you wasn't reciprocated at the time. You're more than a friend to me and you always have been and always will be, you mean a lot more than what most people would expect, but you know what? I also resent you more than anyone else in the world. You might not know it, but you broke my heart and you stomped on it on your exit out of my life.

"I know we 'kept in contact'—but did we, really? No. I missed you more than I'd ever missed anyone, and every time calamity struck my life and forced me to work harder than I wanted to, I convinced myself that I was happy even when the thoughts struck me that I would like to have you by my side again. But I wasn't. I lied to myself all those times, because I wanted to live life like everyone else my age!

"And now that my dad is gone..." I sucked in a deep breath. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and blinked them away furiously. "So? What do you have to say to that?"

His own eyes were full of tears, his expression stricken. His hand tightened around the glass of water I had placed before him earlier, and then he let it go. "Let's go somewhere else to continue this. Let's not wake your mother."

I stared at him for a second, and then I looked away. "Fine. Let's go to the rooftop, it's open to residents of the building. Just let me..." I didn't finish my sentence and walked away to my room, shaking all over. I'm sure he noticed, but he made no comment.

To the rooftop it was.