Loud guffaws reverberated through the entrance—the basketball varsity team stealing the attention of all inhabitants of the area. When Soobin looked back to the table previously occupied by the guy, it was already empty.

"Cut it down, hyung. You've been ogling him for more than five minutes now."

"I have—didn't." Soobin scrambled to continue what he needed to be doing but cursed at himself, realizing that he'd grabbed a highlighter instead of a pen.

"Our unfinished work doesn't seem to agree," taunted Taehyun, tossing him an actual pen.

Well, who was Soobin to resist admiring a good view? The stranger was leaning on a bookshelf, busy with a book—not reading, no, from the way he skimmed through the page. Probably just looking for information. Alone again.

Not his fault that the guy unexpectedly showed up in his line of sight when he should have been making progress on an assignment. They still had another week before the deadline; why the rush?

As if reading his mind, Taehyun said, "I'm not the ambitious bitch who wants to finish this today, alright?" He arched an eyebrow. "You're allowed to have a crush, but at least stay in character until we're done."

"I do not—" Soobin almost tore the paper in his hands "—Have a crush."

"That's what people say when they have a crush."

"What do you mean?"

Taehyun rolled his eyes. "What part of being a loner you don't understand?"

"Why are you telling me like it's a bad disease?" The guy was indeed alone every time Soobin saw him. "Is that supposed to be alarming?"

"You don't even know him." Taehyun threw his hands. "I'd imagine that's important for a nerd like you."

The absolute good thing about admitting that intellectual endeavors excite you is that being called a nerd will never be an insult. Soobin had learned, albeit the hard way, that it was just a label bearing no power to bring him down if he didn't let it.

"Are you saying that you know Yeonjun?" The name still tasted weird on Soobin's tongue. Taehyun had run to him, screaming that he knew what to call the guy.

"Remember when the business department made a fuss about a student transferred a month ago—in the middle of the semester?" Soobin nodded, recalling the wave of hushed hearsays about it at the beginning of the year. "That's him. Straight from the US."

"Okay?"

"His Korean is bad."

"That's why he's, um, a loner?"

"Well, I wish it was." Pity latched on Taehyun's voice.

Soobin only realized then where they were heading. "What are we doing in the gym?"

"Might sound like a joke," Taehyun pushed the gym door open, "But dude's a rockstar. Picked as Freshman of The Year before playing in the U18," Taehyun went on, too smug over the achievements that weren't his. "To top that, the Association is keeping an eye on him."

Soobin had no idea which part was actually the issue. A prodigy, so what? He was about to ask more when a loud thud surprised him. There were students in the bleacher, watching what turned out to be the varsity's basketball practice. However, instead of dribbling a ball or running around the court, two people were pulling at each others' collars while tens were standing at a distance.

"You should pay more respect to your elders, you prick!"

"Yeah?" The one with long hair chuckled. It was the guy—Yeonjun. In broken Korean, he spoke, "And why should I pay respect to someone who can't even admit that they're wrong?"

Another thud echoed on the walls of the gym.

"How are you?"

"Just." Soobin tried to control his breathing. "Let me recalibrate."

"Okay." Taehyun looked around the lab and took both of them closer to the window. Thank heavens the area was almost deserted. "Okay. Take your time."

Without thinking—not that he was capable of it at the moment, Soobin had stepped in to stop the fight between the basketball players in the gym. Where the hell's the coach at a time like this?

"You think they will like it if their sponsored students fight all the time instead of bringing back the prize?" He had asked with a snide duh. "And Jaehyun-ssi. I'd be the most careful if I were you. Don't want my captain status revoked one-sidedly, do I?"

The Jaehyun guy fumed but let go of his grip like whatever he touched just burned him. Knowing very well what Soobin was capable of as part of the student council, Jaehyun said nothing as he grabbed his belongings and left. Yeonjun, on the other hand, spared him a polite bow before taking his leave too.

Taehyun was ready when Soobin's knees finally gave up.

"If you think about it," Soobin muttered, "Really think about it—it doesn't make any sense."

"What is?"

"That—I don't know—whatever that was. Like, why?" He swallowed the bitterness at the base of his tongue. "I thought we're supposed to grow out of that phase once we're in university? How could they still have the time for that?"

"Hyung," Taehyun massaged the bridge of his nose, "You're angry."

"Of course, I am!" Soobin turned his head toward Taehyun so abruptly that the latter winced in surprise. "Why am I the only one getting angry?"

The silence was his only answer.

The team was facing a half-court defense—a 1-2-2 formation. Jaehyun was pounding the ball near the half-court line. He threw the ball to Jungkook at the side, but a defender from the wing was fast enough to block him from shooting. Jungkook had flung the ball back to Jaehyun.

One of the rival players was hunching low at the three-point line, directly facing him. It could be an opportunity to aim for a three, but it wasn't his forte. He couldn't risk an airball, neither could he go for a lay-up; not yet. His ball control was noteworthy, but someone had to break the defence first.

"Beomgyu!" Yeonjun signaled a fellow junior student.

Jaehyun should pass the ball to Beomgyu for things to go smoothly. Otherwise, another defender could slide in and double-team him. They could lose the ball. Jaehyun had yet to decide before his eight seconds ended.

Tonight, the fourth year decided that making another pass was not an option.

Jaehyun tried to cross the rival player, and things went precisely as Yeonjun had predicted. Not letting unnecessary thoughts invade him, Yeonjun sprinted to the other side of the three-point line. He was in time to steal the ball back.

He dribbled across the court, but the opposing team was fast to go back to their defense. This time, a defender didn't wait and went up to block him instead. Yeonjun bit his mouthguard a little harder and stepped back to the half-court line, easing into a shooting stance without missing a beat.

The ball went in. Last quarter, 62-58, 22 seconds left.

The crowd howled, but not for long. The team had to pull back to the backcourt again when the opposing team made the rebound. Yeonjun took pride in his ability to surmise that if he made a turnover, he could pass the ball straight to the sophomore—Kai. Kai could score a two, rebound, and toss it back to him for another three.

He was fast to jab in for another steal when the ball-handler tried to break through his teammate. 14 seconds. His opponent wasn't relenting, so Yeonjun passed the ball behind his back, making it fly through the court toward Kai.

Only this time, the problem was no longer about a conceited teammate, but the timing.

"That pass was risky, Yeonjun. We haven't practiced together with the team." The coach ran a hand down his face, sighing.

"And that was an unnecessary effort. We're still winning even if they score another three," added Jaehyun with irritation.

Yeonjun could have retaliated that nothing was unnecessary. He could have rebuked Jaehyun—that many things were possible in twenty seconds. He could have pointed out that they shouldn't settle with a two-point gap. That if the team tried, Yeonjun was open and ready to score another three. He could have shared an abundance of what should have been done, but a voice spoke in his head instead.

"You raise your voice, and that bull Jaehyun would break your face. You got nothing to prove, dumbass. Leave it. It's not worth it."

Yeonjun remained calm by holding his breath to the count of ten.

"I'm not pointing my finger at anyone," stated the coach firmly while shooting a look towards every basketball player in the room. "But, what distinguishes a team from a mere group of people is coordination. Your ego doesn't work here—all of you."

The team advanced to the final, but it was the first time Yeonjun despised basketball.

Days had blurred into a semester. Four months full of bullshit, to be exact. Thanks to his father's network and constant disapproval of his aspiration to become a pro basketball player, he experienced a 180 in his life. His scholarship in LA had been annulled, and the varsity team had to drop his name from the starter line, despite his achievements on the court. It was ridiculous how all of his efforts had gone down the drain just like that.

Yeonjun didn't remember feeling that cold despite the hot weather. He should've been sweating his back off, tiring his muscles, scoring baskets in a conference game, somewhere on another side of the world. And yet.

"One coke with ice, please," he told a bartender.

He was getting used to the frown he earned after speaking in what should be his native language. Probably something wrong with his pronunciation again. Weird accent and all.

"Enjoy your night," said the same bartender in perfect English, placing a bottle of coke and a glass of ice in front of him.

Yeonjun nodded his thanks then chuckled at himself. He had intentionally picked the bar because many foreigners visited this one, hoping that he wouldn't struggle with communication. He should've stuck with the plan.

He just wanted to forget the fact that nothing had gone according to his plan since he stepped on the soil of Seoul. Maybe he needed to consider changing his path. Baseball or soccer was popular here, he noticed. But, to what end? Just to spite his old man? Attending to the preference of many?

"Coke, really?" The teasing interrupted his trance. Kai, already perched on the stool beside his, was eyeing the glass of soda with a grimace. "Are you one of those athletes who don't drink during game season?"

Yeonjun scoffed. His teammates back in LA were also relentless in changing his stance about that. "Careful there. You're acting like we know each other."

"Well, I wasn't the one who begged his friends to accompany him tonight."

"You were the one asking about my plans tonight."

"Was I?" Kai flipped him off before scanning around the vicinity. He threw a flirting look toward a group of boys and girls before averting his attention back to his friend. "I still think you should go for the captain position, though."

That one statement only succeeded in triggering a headache on Yeonjun. "And I still think that's garbage."

"Come on," Kai took a sip of the drink he just received, "It mustn't be that bad. You're the only one who can take that position."

"Say you."

"Hey, they don't say it out loud, but they're hoping it'd be you."

"Were you even listening?" Yeonjun heaved a sigh. "It's not about what you all think."

"You hate Jaehyun's guts, I know." Kai put his glass down with more force than necessary. "It might not sound like anything, but I played again because of you. Finally, someone's taking this seriously—someone I can look up to, you know? I'm saying that if something needs to change, man, you're the right person to start it."

Before Yeonjun could respond, hands were slung over their shoulders.

"Why are you only sitting your sorry asses down? Let's dance!" Beomgyu had emerged from the crowd. Ruffling Yeonjun's hair, he said, "Gonna kick you outta here if you keep that scary face any second longer."

"I haven't finished my drink," grumbled Yeonjun defeatedly when his glass was being taken away.

Beomgyu only dragged him off the stool. "That sad excuse of a drink? You must be joking."

Dancing is weird when you're sober. Yeonjun had no idea how Beomgyu or Kai could do it without the help of alcohol. Being in the vast court almost 24/7 made him a little claustrophobic in the crowd—but no one needed to know that, thank you very much. Typically, he had to defend a ball when he was face-to-face with a person. Taking in every movement so he could come up with a strategy to keep things in his favor.

Another problem is, he didn't know what to do with his hands. Arms, in general, were stupid. Especially when someone circled theirs around your neck out of a sudden, and you hadn't gotten around the culture shock to grasp how to react.

"You're beautiful." Yeonjun heard the slurred claim through the loud music. If he didn't realize that it was the same person who had helped him several days ago, he would have pushed the guy away. "Why are you so beautiful?"

Yeonjun clenched and unclenched his fists on his sides, gulping. Pretty, cherry lips and a pair of bambi eyes. They gazed at Yeonjun with intense adoration like the latter had just saved the world. Why? Because of his physical appearance?

He might have to punch himself later. "You should answer the question yourself."

For a split second, the guy seemed to be taken aback, and Yeonjun thought he'd messed up his Korean again. "You think so?" Cherry beamed then. Yeonjun could've sworn he was blinded by the smile. "So I don't make people sad?"

Oh.

Before Yeonjun could process the question, however, Cherry had pulled him into a tight hug, face snug on his neck. Beomgyu winked at him from across the room as Cherry murmured, "If you make people sad, you're ugly, right?"

Yeonjun was no longer sure if it was the language barrier, or if something was indeed wrong with the logic. Regardless, he gave into the temptation to wrap his hands around the slender waist.

Surprised by the unsolicited warmth, the cold in him halted.

"Yeah," was all Yeonjun could say.