It was cold. It had been cold since Monday, and had rained since Sunday. This wasn’t a special thing, it was October after all, but this Tuesday was noticeably cold. Monday had been a bit colder, actually, and the memory of Sunday was anything but cold, but Youngbin had decided to just not have any memory of Sunday.

So, it was cold. It was grey and it had rained, just a drizzle, but pretty uncomfortable regardless. Youngbin had analysed the weather for half an hour as his old English teacher at the front of the classroom had talked about things. Who knew about what she had talked about- Well, most students, probably, at least the students that made an effort to listen. So, never mind then, nobody knew what she was talking about.

The Tuesday afternoon English class with Misses Wright-Walker had never been a favourite for Youngbin, but they’d never before felt this awful, this drawn out. So uninviting to listen and partake in class, though the old teacher barely even cared about anyone partaking in the first place.

To be fair, everything had been slow lately. And a lot too fast at the same time. Everything was drawn out and had left a strange pressure, an anxiety in Youngbin’s chest, like something was going to happen, something was slowly approaching. Nothing was, as far as he knew. But he was running out of time regardless.

Whatever was approaching slowly, it was also speeding into his direction at the same time. It was coming closer with every second, and Youngbin simply didn’t have the time to prepare. Because he was stuck here in class, staring out the window.

The grey sky had become boring, so he glanced around the classroom. Attendance had always been low, but now that the seat next to Youngbin was empty, it seemed as though the classroom was nearly completely abandoned.

Kaya didn’t come today, mostly because she was sick, but also, more importantly, because today was supposed to be the biology presentation that the two had barely prepared anything for. He’d gotten away with the presentation today, but that trick only ever worked once.

Aside from Kaya, who else was missing today?

The boy that usually sat at the front, with the black curly hair. He was pretty cute, and Youngbin had stared at him before- until he bumped into him one day, and Youngbin had never dared to look at him again.

The girl that played Juliet in the last play, Wanda, usually sat behind Youngbin in class. She wasn’t here today, Youngbin could tell because usually she was the one to participate in class the most. Without her, it was slow, and dead silent.

Well, not just because Wanda was missing. Someone else hadn’t shown up either. At the very back of the class, someone quite chatty was often seated. Sometimes, maybe, instead of often. In fact, she’d been missing from class a lot since a few months ago. Maybe she’d been subjected to some bad influences.

English class with Misses Wright-Walker was one of the few classes Youngbin shared with Leia Zhang, and one of the few instances he was actually aware of her. Of course, he’d heard of her, a lot, because Kaya collected gossip about the cool kids like she was trying to recreate the burn book.

Leia missed class a lot, particularly this one, but she didn’t seem to skip every class she had, at least Youngbin was seeing her around school a lot. But she hadn’t been around at all, since maybe Thursday or Friday. And she hadn’t been at the party on Saturday either, though Youngbin had just kind of assumed that she was somewhere else, somewhere Alex wasn’t.

The disappearance of Leia Zhang shouldn’t have really mattered to him, and honestly, it didn’t, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder where she was. At home, probably. Maybe she was sick. The chances were high. Or maybe she’d moved to a brand new city to finally get rid of the menace that was Youngbin and Alex, without a word. Well, even if it was without a word indeed, Kaya would’ve found out about it still, and told Youngbin.

His glance fell back to the front, where Misses Wright-Walker seemed to be wrapping up the lesson. She said something about homework, and Youngbin didn’t feel like doing homework, but hadn’t felt like doing it for quite some time now. He halfheartedly listened to her, something about reading a specific scene in the comedy they were currently talking about, and he shut off again. How many times had he read Much Ado about Nothing before? Plenty, actually, he didn’t remember the reason.

He could just skip that one then. His Shakespeare hyperfixation at age 15 had carried him through this class for long enough, and it would continue to do so until he graduated.

He leaned back in his chair again, letting the pen of his tablet slot into its place, stared somewhere into the general vicinity of his teacher until she’d do her usual slow nod, and tired smile, and dismiss the class.

Youngbin’s head had slowed down. It’d been slow for a while- and he didn’t feel like thinking about the reason, but today it was worse. Perhaps he was just in a bad mood. For no reason. Maybe he missed Kaya, or maybe he missed Alex, who skipped school on Monday, or maybe he missed both of them. It probably was exactly that. He missed his best friends.

He missed them so much that he missed the dismissal of class and the last bell of the day, and everyone had gotten up already, packing their stuff ready to rush home and never think of this class again, at least until the next lesson.

Youngbin blinked, slowly, moving each of his limbs as though to awake them from a deep slumber. He took his time packing, though there wasn’t much to pack in the first place. He should’ve been excited to get home.

Truth was, when was Youngbin ever excited to get home? Not now, not ever. Time passed too quickly, and too slowly at the same time anyway once he was home. He closed his eyes for a second, let out a sigh.

Maybe the seasonal depression was kicking in already. Maybe it was just- general depression. He tried to think back to a different time, where he felt the same, just a bit less anxious about an invisible thread looming above him, a time where he was still in therapy and the kind lady in the seat opposite to him nodded and smiled and told him what to do when he felt like this.

He couldn’t remember. Naturally, he could never remember her words when he needed to.

Youngbin threw his backpack over his shoulder, then stared out the window for a second, or perhaps a couple of hours. It was still raining a little. Everything was grey, and Youngbin felt a little less guilty about his current mood, because how was he supposed to not be in a bad mood when everything around him was doused in grey? When sunshine wasn’t around? When Kaya or Alex weren’t around?

“For Leia. Leia Zhang?”

Now Youngbin snapped around, finally, when a voice pierced through his dreams of sunshine and warmth and fire. A voice so cold and dark and stomach twisting. Involuntarily, Youngbin’s head snapped towards the source.

Misses Wright-Walker looked maybe a metre tall next to Demian Zhang. She smiled at him, pressed a stack of papers into his large hands. He looked back at her, but there was no doubt Demian hadn’t already seen him. The way Demian’s smile had lost its gentleness and innocence as soon as he noticed Youngbin turn towards him.

“Please tell her to get well soon, Mister Zhang.”

“I will,” Demian answered the teacher's words, and Youngbin knew he had to get out before these two had finished their conversation. Which was right now.

His steps were light but hurried, and Youngbin squeezed himself past Demian, keeping enough space between them to not accidentally touch or bump into him, not with his own body, nor with his backpack. He kept his head lowered, and didn’t dare to say his goodbyes to the teacher. As though Demian hadn’t long fixed his gaze upon him like some kind of predator.

“Hey, Youngbin.” Too late, of course. His smug smile was audible in his tone, though Youngbin didn’t look up to actually see it. Youngbin decided to pretend like he didn’t hear him, as though Demian’s smooth voice didn’t vibrate to his very core. “How’s your day?”

Of course, Demian wouldn’t just leave him. Of course, he’d follow him with big steps, with a smile that was anything but kind, with eyes that wanted something for sure.

“Fine,” Youngbin answered, though he really didn’t want to. Well, part of him didn’t want to. The part that had carefully listened to Alex’ words, that hadn’t understood their deeper meaning but certainly recognised that maybe Demian wasn’t the greatest guy after all.

The other part, the one that didn’t include his brain, but his eyes and his stomach and sadly his mouth, the one that really just couldn’t help but look at him, had taken over.

“Just fine?” Demian hummed, easily keeping up with Youngbin’s steps. “And why not great?”

What kind of a question was that? He wasn’t going to answer. Just keep walking.

“I don’t know?” He answered regardless. Damn it. “No reason.”

“If you need someone to talk to-“ Not to Demian. Sure as hell not to Demian. “You can talk to me.”

“I’m perfectly fine, actually, so there’s no need to talk, really.” Youngbin gave his best to keep his head straight, walking with hurried steps through the near empty hallways.

“Well.” Demian hadn’t planned to give up just yet, it seemed. “To me it looks like you m-”

“The weather’s shit today, isn’t it?” Youngbin had learned that when someone talked about the weather, that was a sign that they weren’t interested in further conversation. And Demian actually fell quiet for a few seconds. Youngbin didn’t dare to turn his head towards him to check on his expression.

“It is,” he eventually answered, and maybe that’d be about it. No more talking.

Yet, Demian’s steps still kept up with Youngbin’s. Like he didn’t want to let go just yet. Youngbin just hoped that he’d get bored if he pretended like he wasn’t actually there. It had worked with bullies sometimes. When they called him things, he just turned the music in his head a little louder and decided to keep walking.

“I picked up some stuff for Lei,” Demian then said after a couple of peaceful seconds of silence. “I didn’t know you went to the same class?”

“Yeah,” Youngbin sighed, keeping his answers short. Uninteresting. “We do.”

“She’s sick. I’m like, taking care of her. Poor thing. She can’t even get out of bed. Real bad flu, you know. But she’s got a big brother there for her, you know.”

“Sorry about that,” Youngbin answered.

“I mean, to be honest, it’s probably something mental too. She’d been super stressed. For months, to be honest. Now that she’s not at school, you really see her getting better. Like she’s taking a break from people.”

From Alex, is what Demian probably wanted to say. Youngbin exhaled.

The exit was near. Youngbin’s steps quickened as he approached the large door that promised freedom from Demian. He’d have to wait a little for the bus, but he surely could shake him off somehow.

“Honestly, when I was at school, I had guys I needed a break from. Like they totally made me sick. Crazy what the mind can do to your body.” What school did Demian even go to? Youngbin had never seen him at Miller High before, though he probably had long graduated anyways. Youngbin pushed the doors open, and hoped for this to be the last time Demian ever was at Miller High.

“Do you ever notice that? Like sometime’s someones vibes are so off that you feel-”

“If you’re trying to talk about Alex-” Youngbin hopped down the stairs, not turning his head to Demian. The steps were wet and slippery. “Then I kindly ask you to just stop.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

“The shoe isn’t fitting, but strangely, you really like talking shit about Alex to me.”

“I’m not talking shit, Youngbin, I really mean it well with you. You’re too cute to be hurt.”

Youngbin shouldn’t have been flustered. So he rolled his eyes and wiped over his cheek as though that could remove the heat.

“I’m not going to be hurt. It also really is none of your business. You don’t know me, and you also don’t seem to know Alex.”

“I know Alex more than I’d like to admit.” Some sincerity peeked through Demian’s voice. “For a lot longer than you do, as well. Man’s a player and a liar. Kinda guy to lead you on and leave you hanging. You’re an object that he owns and gets to discard whenever. He’s gonna get from you what he wants and when he gets it, he’s gonna move on. Trust me.”

Now Youngbin stopped, and turned, and looked up directly into Demian’s face. Into his mesmerising eyes.

“You do not know me. You do not know what our relationship looks like. I don’t know what happened between him and Leia, and I don’t know what happened between him and you, but it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter to you.”

“You do matter to me, actually.” He smiled and Youngbin wanted to gauge his own eyes out. And his stomach as well, the way it hurt.

“You don’t-”

“You know the thing about vibes? Some people’s are super bad? Yeah, and yours are super good. I don’t think you realise how enchanting you are. You’re just attracting something.” Youngbin furrowed his brows, and Demian’s smile widened, his dimples appearing again. “You’re the kinda guy that doesn’t know how much charm he’s got. You’re pretty as hell, Youngbin, but like, everything’s pretty about you. People don’t tell you that enough, I think. You’d need someone to remind you every single damn day. You’ve got that aura about you. I don’t know, Youngbin, but you’re light. And everyone else is a moth.” Demian tilted his head, leaned down the smallest bit. “You don’t really know it yet, but you can burn.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.” Youngbin didn’t move back, not yet.

“You’re the sun, Youngbin.” He leaned closer. “You don’t know it, but you’re the sun. And can you blame me for being attracted to the sun?” Closer, and Youngbin could take in Demian’s scent. Strawberry. Or some perversion of strawberry. “I just follow my human instinct, towards the warm and bright and beautiful.”

“Come closer and your wings will melt.”

Now Demian actually hesitated. Held still. Moved his body back again, though something about the way he looked at Youngbin made him appear as close as he’d ever been. As nearly anyone had ever been.

“You see, that’s exactly it. When someone admires you and offers you what you deserve, you shut ‘em out. The problem is that you won’t believe how fucking magical you are to oth-”

“The problem, Demian, is that I have a boyfriend. The only problem here is that you’re flirting with me when you know that I’m taken. Happily so.”

“You’re taken by a man that doesn’t know your worth! A guy that’s gonna treat you like a doll! I’m not flirting with you, I’m not hitting on you, I’m trying to tell you how much you deserve and how much less than that you’re getting! I want you to find someone who’s actually gonna give you all that!”

“And you think,” Youngbin inhaled, deeply, “that you’re the one that’s going to give me all that?”

His voice sounded unstable, like it wasn’t made to convey whatever emotion was bubbling up within Youngbin now. He got it now. The slimy part that Alex had mentioned. Demian’s smooth pleasant voice and fantastically beautiful eyes and his dimples and his hair and his arms and everything about him may have been painfully hot, but every word coming out of his mouth had been nothing but audacious and pretentious.

Just because flowery words and metaphors came out of an attractive mouth didn’t mean that there was substance to it. Didn’t mean that it wasn’t just insolent flirting.

And the worst thing was, a very small part of Youngbin was actually falling for it. He craved for someone to praise him and to see him and to admire him so much that that tiny little part was even drawn to the bullshit that Demian was spewing. Perhaps that made him even angrier.

“You really believe that you can give me anything when you just walk all over my boundaries? I don’t want you to flirt with me. I’m not interested in dating you. I’m in a relationship, and you know that, and you still try to sweet talk me?” Demian’s face changed now, into something confused, but it wasn’t like that mattered at all. “I don’t care about my vibes or my aura or if I’m the sun or any of that stuff. I don’t want to hear it, and I especially don’t want to hear it from you.”

Demian sighed, his head fell back dramatically, then he shook his head with a sorry expression. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d said, though, so much was obvious. He was, mostly, sorry for himself.

“You’re making it hard for yourself. You gotta have a little more respect for yourself. If only you could open your eyes and see that you’re not surrounding yourself with people who can treat you right.”

“You don’t know me, Demian, you have no idea what people I surround myself with, you-”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t want your help. Oh my god. I don’t want your help!”

“Do you realise how hard it is to love you, Youngbin?”

So he fell quiet. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Something hurt, but this time not his stomach, but something above it. It was, wasn’t it? Hard to love him. Like actually love him. Not fake-love him, not flirt-love him, but actually really love him. Hard, perhaps impossible.

Perhaps he actually didn’t let anyone-

“Step the fuck away from my boyfriend, Demian.”

Youngbin froze, he didn’t have to turn around to see who was speaking. With each step that Alex came closer, Demian looked more displeased. He took a step back, then another, small one.

"What?" He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Can't we just have a chat anymore? You wanna keep him to yourself that badly?"

"Just get the fuck away." Alex' voice was closer now, right next to Youngbin. "I'm not in the mood to deal with your ass now."

"You don't have to deal with me! Not at all! Just turn around and go back where you came from." Youngbin had stopped mattering to Demian completely, it seemed like. His gaze was fixed on Alex, who took another step forward to stand a little more in front of Youngbin. "If you choose to insert yourself into this conversation, that's your problem."

Alex didn't say anything, at least no words, but his stare said plenty of things. Mostly in a language Youngbin hadn't really figured out yet. But Demian seemed to be fluent, the way his posture shifted in response, the way his eyes lowered back to Youngbin and a smile snuck onto his face once more.

"See, that's what I meant. So possessive. Alex who thinks he owns the people around him and gets to decide what they do and who they talk to."

"I never said I owned anyone, I-"

"But you're pretending to, right now! Policing what someone can and can't do. You just barge into the conversation me and my poor Bin were h-"

"God, just shut up. That wasn't a conversation, and I'm sure as hell not your poor Bin, just shut the fuck up and leave me alone." Youngbin turned, and walked, uncaring if Demian followed or not. Or if Alex followed, to be honest.

"Youngbin, come on, I want to help you!"

"No."

"I'm gonna stay where I am, yeah? When you regret Alex then you can find me."

"No."

"I'll be h-"

"No."

He inhaled, deeply, then exhaled again. Steady. Slow. Calm. No. That was fine, that was alright. He could stand up for himself, alright. He could defend himself calmly, he could walk away, just walk away and leave the situation behind. No. Easily said.

"Sorry," someone now said when Youngbin had already walked a good while towards the bus stop. Someone that wasn't Demian, thankfully, because then maybe he wouldn't have been able to stay calm after all.

"What are you sorry for?" Youngbin noticed how much he sounded like his own mother now. His tone reminded him of her so much whenever she was desperate to not let her polite mask slip.

"Uh- Being kinda weird, I guess." Alex cleared his throat, had now caught up with Youngbin and walked in his same pace. "I mean, what Demian said just now, I don't- It's not like I want to control you, or own you, or something weird like that. I mean, you can totally do whatever you want, you know, I don't-"

"Alex. It doesn't matter. What Demian says absolutely does not matter, especially whatever he's saying about you and me. He's the weirdo, not you." Do you realise how hard it is to love you? "Nothing matters."

"I know, but-" Alex inhaled, and something looked very off about him. "It's just- I get, like, weirdly angry everytime I see him, and especially when he talks to you, it's like he's trying to... take you from me? But you don’t belong to me, you’re not- It’s just-”

“He can’t take me away from you.”

“Because you’re not mine.”

“But he thinks I am, and that’s where the problem is.” Something about that made Youngbin feel strange, almost uncomfortable, but more so scared. “You were right when you said that the whole problem is that he thinks I’m taken and yet it doesn’t stop him. He can’t break us up but the fact that he thinks he can is-”

“It makes me want to beat the shit out of him.”

Youngbin sighed once more, then nodded slowly. His chest felt tight, the thought of, well, everything choking him. The mere idea of Demian desiring him, of Demian wanting to take him away from where he belonged. Of Demian believing he belonged to someone in the first place. None of it was right. Because Youngbin was so hard to love.

“Well, I suppose it’s good that this isn’t real.” He had to say it, a reminder more to himself than to Alex. He had to tell himself, over and over again, it wasn’t real, and so there was no need to be so scared. To feel all of these terrifying things. He didn’t need to actually worry about being loved, or loving, or belonging, or being taken. It wasn’t real, thankfully, because having to worry about being lovable sounded so damn exhausting. And terrifying, really.

“It’s good,” Alex agreed, “Yeah.” Then he fell silent, and so did Youngbin. His bus was coming in ten minutes.

“What are you still doing here, by the way?” Youngbin decided to ask after an unusually uncomfortable minute of silence.

“I just- I don’t know. Day kinda passed and now I’m here.” Oh, it was obvious again. That something was going horrible. “I think I lost track of time.”

“What’s wrong?” Youngbin now dared to ask. It wasn’t like him to make that first step usually, but it seemed clear that Alex wasn’t going to tell him by himself.

Silence for a bit, as though Alex had to consider whether or not he actually wanted to answer, then: “Nothing.” Then a quick correction. “Actually, I just- I don’t know. I’m kind of an asshole.”

“I know,” Youngbin responded, even though he really didn’t mean to. “But what’s wrong? Like, now?”

“I just suck. I mean, I kinda… pissed Lani off. And kind of ruined, like, everything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s- Yeah. I’m not in the, like, best mood ever. So.”

“Do you need a hug?” Youngbin may have surprised himself with that question. Again, not the one to ask such things, to take the first step, to initiate anything- Though, maybe he’d been the one to initiate various things in the past few weeks- He swallowed the thought again, and briefly regretted the question.

“I mean- Yeah. Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“A lot. Like I’d really love a hug a lot right now.”

Chapter 24 - artificial strawberry

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