⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

I walk down the crowded and unfamiliar hallway in search of my first class. I vaguely remember where it is from the tour mom and I went on last week. The buzzer sounds—an ugly monotonous drawl—sending the hall into a frenzy of students walking to class. I enter my first class as the final buzzer sounds—after a seemingly futile attempt to get there on time.

  "Pardon me," I say, throwing on a polite tone as I approach the instructor's desk.

She looks up at me over the frame of her glasses. "Can I help?"

  "I-I um~ M-My name's Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."

  "Oh right, Mr. Kim." Her expression softens and she tries to smile. "I'm sorry."

  "Just Taehyung," I say.

  "Well, 'Just Taehyung', you can take your seat in the back. Last chair on the far right." She points. "I'll get your make-up folder together by the end of the period. Welcome to Yeongsan."

I keep a straight face as I turn away from her but roll my eyes as I make it to my seat. I start biting my lip and I have force myself to stop before I chew through it.

After a long hour of listening to the teacher drone on about modern English, class finally ends. When the buzzer sounds, I'm lost. Once again. I walk down the hall and up the flight of stairs like I remember doing during the tour. As I'm walking someone bumps into my shoulder.

  "Pardon me." I glance up at the person.

  "Watch where you're going, freak," He mumbles.

  "I'm sorry?" I turn to face him.

  "You heard me." He continues on his way—this time bumping into me on purpose.

I sigh and try to forget about it. A part of me worries for a moment that he knows my secret somehow. Maybe mom called and talked to my teachers even though I begged her not to. Maybe this random person overheard them talking about me and he knew—just from looking at me—that I was the subject of that conversation. Maybe that's why he thinks I'm a freak and he's targeting me now.

Yeah, Taehyung. That's the reason.

  "Hey," A voice says from behind me, effectively snapping me out of my spiral of thoughts. "Coffee shop boy."

I turn to find a familiar face in the sea of strangers.

  "Oh, hey," I say, smiling for the first time since I've been here.

  "How's it going?" Jungkook asks.

  "It's going," I say with a laugh.

  "I hear you," Jungkook sighs in agreeance. "Where are you headed next?"

  "Math," I say, flashing my schedule. He steps beside me and examines it for a moment.

  "Ms. Jung?" He says. "Hey, I was just in there and all I can do is apologize in advance for the headache she's about to give you."

  "Great." I chuckle. "Really great."

  "Hey, uhm...I think your lip's bleeding," He says, his eyes focused on my lips.

  "Shit," I say under my breath as I bring my finger to the corner of my mouth.

  "I should get to class," He says, ignoring my bleeding lip. "But maybe I'll stop by the coffee shop after school, yeah?"

  "Yeah sure," I say. "See you 'round."

  "Right, and by the way, Ms. Jung's downstairs."

  "Right." I stop. "Later, Jungkook."

  "Later, Coffee shop boy," He says with a laugh.

I start back down the stairs just as the warning buzzer sounds.

Just great.

☾𖤓☽

I tried to convince my mom that I could walk home on my own without getting myself killed or injured in any way but of course she wasn't having it. So, here I stand waiting for her to come pick me up. She pulls into the lot near the middle of the long line of traffic and I get into the car—avoiding her worried gaze.

  "How was it?" She asks, the worry seeping through her voice.

  "It was fine." I try to give her a convincing smile.

  "What happened?" Her hand shoots to the cut on my lip.

  "Oh, I just...I bit my lip," I say calmly, hoping she won't flip out like she always does.

  "Tae, I've told you a thousand times you have to be conscious~"

  "I'm sorry. I can't help it," I say, taking the handkerchief she dug out of her purse. "It was an accident."

"Say you chew right through your lip," She continues as we leave the school.

"Its not like it'd hurt," I say, wiping the corner of my mouth.

    "Bear," Mom sighs. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

    "Can you stop calling me that?"

    "I don't want to upset you."

    "Then stop talking," I don't mean to say it loud enough for her to hear, but I can tell she does. Instead of saying anything I look out the window—silent. The rest of the ride is silent. I feel bad. When we get to the house my mom stops me before I go to my room.

  "Now or later?"

  "Now."

  "I'll be there in a sec."

I go to my room and I put my things away before changing. I wear a pair of black shorts and a white T-shirt—the attire my mom prefers me in when she's doing her daily scan for bruises and whatnot. She enters my room with an irrelevant knock.

"You ready?" She asks—as if it'd make a difference if I was or not.

  "As ever," I say, sitting on the stool in the corner of my room. I pull my shirt over my head.

  "What happened here?" She asks running her fingers over the blossoming bruise on my shoulder.

  "I don't know." New marks show up on me everyday—like they just fall from the sky.

  "Did someone do this to you?" She asks.

  "Probably just ran into something." I shrug.

She continues her hunt for any new marks.

  "Are you going the shop today?" I ask.

  "Wasn't planning on it," She says. "Jihye just got through training Hoseok."

  "Fine if I go on my own then?" I ask

  "Why do you want to go to the shop?"

  "I just wanted to."

  "Well, go on and get dressed then," She says as she finishes.

  "Really?" I say in actual shock that she's letting me out.

  "Now I'm second guessing myself~"

  "No. I just didn't expect you to agree."

  "Take your medicine first," She says, leaving me to change. "Two of each."

I change quickly, taking my medicine before heading out. I get to the coffee shop in a few short minutes considering we live in town.

  "Hey, Taehyung," Jihye calls when I walk in.

  "Hey," I say. "How's it coming?"

  "Cool," She says. "It's been busy."

  "Mom tells me there's a new guy," I say, leaning on the counter.

  "Yeah, Hoseok." She gestures to the guy wiping down tables. "I wish your mom would've came I have a shift I have to take off on Saturday."

  "I can take the message."

  "Thanks, bear."

I cringe. "Please, never again."

She laughs before going back to the register.

The bell dings and I turn to catch Jungkook walking in through the door. He's changed out of his school uniform and into his civilians.

  "Hey, Coffee shop boy," He says with a smile.

  "Hi, Jungkook." I return the smile.

  "Fancy seeing you here isn't it?" He asks, walking past me and to the register. He orders a drink before coming to talk to me. "Looks like you survived your first day in hell."

  "If 'hell' is the metaphor I'd say I did alright."

  "You hang out here even when you're not working?"

  "Oh, I don't work here," I say. "Not for money at least."

He raises a confused eyebrow.

  "My mom owns the shop," I explain. "Her and my dad opened it."

  "Oh, that's so cool," Jungkook says. "Do you get whatever you want for free?"

  "Not entirely. Being the owner's son comes with free labor," I say, earning a laugh.

  "Jungkook?" The new guy—Hoseok—calls a bit nervously. "Iced green tea?"

He takes the drink from him exchanging a few friendly words before returning to our conversation. After a few more minutes of meaningless conversation Jungkook says he has to go.

  "I've got to get going too," I say. "I'll walk you out."

I let Jihye know I'm leaving before heading out with Jungkook.

  "It's a little warm for it to be so close to winter, don't you think?" Jungkook asks, squinting up at the sun. I notice his short sleeves and realize that I still had my jacket on

  "Is it?" I ask before shrugging it off.

  "Guess I'll see you 'round school tomorrow then?" Jungkook smiles.

  "Yeah," I say. "See you then."

  "Later, Coffee shop boy," He says.

  "Later, Jungkook." We both turn going our separate ways. I bite back my smile—being sure not to harm my lip—as I walk home.

☾𖤓☽

  "Is that you, bear?" Mom calls from her office when she hears me come in.

  "Hope so." My watch goes off signaling that I should eat.

That's my life.

Alarms.
Appointments.
Steady meal plans.
Calorie goals.

Everything has to be clean.
Everything has to look right.
Everything has to be in place.

Not too hot. Not too cold.
Not took much. Not to little.

Medication. Sterilization. Sanitation.

Order order order.

  "What are you thinking about?" Mom asks.

  "Nothing," I say. "I don't feel like eating."

Mom hands me a bowl with a mixture of different fruits. "You have to. I'll make dinner in about an hour."

I take the bowl to my room nibbling at it as I pick out a random book from my shelf. Which had to be the most over-read books on the shelf.  The Devil's Footsteps.

Even though the book was possibly written for middle schoolers, something about the elementary plot pulls me in.

I even have the skipping game memorized.
I know it sounds stupid.

But I get too engulfed into the fantasy worlds of the characters in the books I read. It's just a strange escape that only a good book can give.

That's why I read a lot.

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