➴ university。

@ahn bohyun. she had thought that paintballing was going to be easy and fun. however, as she sat in hiding behind the wall of a small shed, jisoo realized that she had completely underestimated the vigorous nature of the particular activity. not to mention the fact that it involved two things in life she disliked the most; pain and running. she knew that she had to do some running, but not an entire day's worth. in every round of paintballing she had participated, just as soon as she got settled in one area of the arena, someone on the other team always rained down a fury of paintballs in her location, making it nearly impossible for jisoo to safely fire back. the pain aspect followed this notion, as more than likely, one of the many paintballs aimed her way someway somehow ended up hitting her— mentally incapacitating her. the stinging, burning discomfort that came with the hit of the paintball was truly, truly unkind. she could already feel the places in which she had sustained a hit were going to be bruised.

finally, the wrath of raining paintballs stop momentarily, allowing jisoo to poke her head out from the sill of the window ledge. stabilizing the of the gun against her shoulder, jisoo aims at the opposing team players. she pulls the trigger of her rifle, but nothing. it clicks, but she doesn't see any paintballs fly out from her gun. she ducks behind cover again, looking over her gun. nothing visibly obvious seems to be wrong with it. she's startled, when she hears the rapid footsteps of someone coming her way, automatically raising her hands up in surrender, not wanting to be shot— squared up and at closer proximity. she's about to call out her departure from the game, when she sees that it's someone from her own team. he's asked if she needs assistance, to which she nods enthusiastically.

"my gun's not working... it won't fire." jisoo tells him, her voice muffled slightly through the protective mask.

@jung jinyoung. “To me, it sounded like you were sent here out of courtesy. Moreso, out of courtesy to your family. You are more than grown enough to make your own decisions.”

She longed to erase the unmistakable patronizing tone from the man’s voice, a tone that grated on her nerves with every word he uttered. Once, he had played the role of the righteous man with ease, but now he was jaded and somewhat pretentious. These two words hung in the back of her mind as he continued his tirade, having somehow recovered from his earlier embarrassment.

Having encountered far too many men like him—those who took themselves far too seriously, Chanmi merely rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his subtle attempts to assert dominance. Was it to win an intellectual battle and presumably put her in her place? Or whatever that meant to him for an old acquaintance like her. Did he want to show that he had changed? That he had shed his previous persona?

He was the kind of man who thrived on the illusion of change and growth, while in reality, he was just as arrogant and self-assured as ever. Yet, as he continued his diatribe, Chanmi couldn’t help but wonder if he genuinely believed he had transformed or if it was all part of his elaborate act to maintain his fragile ego

"You think I'd be here if I had a choice."

There was a slight lilt of irritation in her voice, revealing that he had touched a sore subject. Not many things irked Kim Chanmi, but the topic of her dysfunctional family always managed to get under her skin. She signaled for a server, requesting another refill, resolutely ignoring the food on her plate. She had little confidence it would meet her standards.

To maintain an appearance of politeness, she lazily picked up her fork and moved the food around her plate. Her movements were deliberate and mechanical, a practiced gesture that allowed her to feign interest without actually consuming anything. As she listened to him prattle on, Chanmi remained outwardly composed, her irritation simmering just below the surface.

Until she could not bear it anymore. The ennui of being in the presence of boring strangers and the chatter about education and promising futures though once muted had been a little too grating to her ear now. As she eyed Jinyoung, it seemed as if he too was rather bored. Despite not showing it as much as she did.

"Yes, actually. I'm in a rush to get the hell out of here. Though you seem like you're enjoying the party."

Out of the little respect she held for her parents' alma mater, Chanmi waited for the current speaker to finish their speech before setting her fork down, having reached her limit with this event. She took a large gulp from what must have been her fourth or fifth glass of champagne, the liquid a welcome respite from the droning speeches.

Then, with determination in her stride, she abruptly stood up and made her way around the ridiculously long table, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

She stopped where he sat, ignoring the curious glances from the other attendees. Her presence commanded attention, and the room seemed to quiet as she paused beside him. Chanmi looked down at him, her eyes sharp.

"You can either show me around your prestigious school and make it interesting. Or you stay here.. with these nerds that you secretly hate. Your choice. Prez."

The alcohol she consumed felt as though it was suffocating her from within, and Chanmi knew she needed to get some fresh air before she embarrassed herself in front of everyone. Not that it mattered what any of them thought of her anyway. Conversations buzzed around her, an endless drone that only added to her discomfort.

Turning away from him, Chanmi didn't bother to see if he would follow as she made her way toward the exit. If he chose not to, she would simply amuse herself by exploring on her own, savoring the temporary solitude.

The chatter and clinking of glasses faded behind her as she stepped into the corridor.

It would have been his choice. To step out of his comfort zone or stay where he easily blended in.

@kim chanmi. Peering around him, he eavesdropped on other colleagues rattling on about their connections to the university, how they can take their protege even further, with the knowledge that they were more or less fraught, remaining stagnant in the same mid-level position as he was. An endless deluge of half-baked marketing pitches, the banality of it all settled the calamity from someone managing to find his school president accolades.

How embarrassing it was to be well behaved, truly.

With the woman’s gaze left on him, he knew he was a person of her interest. He waited for the temptation to glower at her to build up. Yet it never came. Only swells of irritation rose within him. Unlike the void that resides within him, this fiery feeling invigorated him more than ever. Plagued with excessive regiment in his days, ennui was a constant companion, watching over him as he underwent his routine of rummaging through papers, grading and scrutinizing them until exhaustion weighed on his eyelids.

Unlike the clinical gaze he was subjected to at a clinic or hospital, there belies genuine fascination with his character. Considering himself to be not that different from his colleagues in interest, he felt flattered oddly enough. Though, not to soak in his own renowned ego, he picked himself back up from the knockout and simply tried again.

This is only just the beginning of the night, and it already drew more interest compared to the preceding evenings, inundated with academic discussions. Laden with sophistry, he tired of the mental gymnastics.

The embarrassment from earlier left him as he refilled his champagne flute.

Might as well indulge in the acidic and sparkling taste, differing from the claret glasses normally served in these parties.

“To me, it sounded like you were sent here out of courtesy. Moreso, out of courtesy to your family. You are more than grown enough to make your own decisions.” Patronization tinged his words. despite the lack of patience for coddling her and her ilk. Jinyoung familiarize himself with the “plights” of the wealthy. Impressing one’s parents, the urge to forever skive from their disappointment, and beholden to high expectations in hopes of continuing the legacy of a conglomerate they owned. Filial piety, even in the present, clutched the nation in its iron grip, especially in the upper echelon of the population. Observing her, he wondered if the pressure grappled her, if that was the extent of her need to attend an event she held no interest or attachment to.

“Though, feel free to correct me if I made any wrongful assumptions.” Placating her, he offered an invitation for challenge. Leaving out the note of finality in his voice, marking each statement as open ended. Sighing softly, he carded his fingers through his neatly done hair, mussing it slightly. Whether he receives an open-ended response or not lied in her response.

“Are you in a rush?” He inquired, noting the deliberately slow movements.

@jung jinyoung. Idle chatter faded into the background as she found herself focusing on a single familiar face amid the sea of now seemingly bland men. There were a few women present, but they appeared to be the type who would never associate with Chanmi. However, that was irrelevant now, as her eyes settled on Jinyoung. Her saccharine smile, which never quite reached her eyes, regarded him intently. She listened to his words, now dripping with sarcasm and smugness, a stark contrast to the righteousness he once embodied. There was a time when he believed in the inherent goodness of all the students, including her, even though she had only ever given him grief. His transformation was striking, and it fascinated her as she watched him regard her with a confidence that had replaced his former naivety. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused it, what experiences had hardened him and turned him into this new version of himself.

"Out of courtesy of course... not like you're truly interested in sitting through the entire party. Since you have better things you'd rather spend your time on... yes?"

Her tone was placating, as if agreeing merely for the sake of agreement. There were only a few who could draw out Chanmi's competitive streak, and she seldom engaged in lengthy conversations. Yet, she had always relished pushing Jinyoung's buttons, and she quickly realized that she still did, perhaps even more so now. The challenge he posed was invigorating, a rare spark in the otherwise mundane interactions she usually endured. As their exchange continued, she felt a familiar thrill, the same satisfaction from provoking him that she used to enjoy. It was a game she knew well.

Jinyoung seemed like a tougher nut to crack now, which only fueled Chanmi's hyperfixation. Even as the party eventually came to life, with most attendees rising from their seats to mingle, the two of them remained seated. Occasionally her gaze would divert from his, lazily regarding the surroundings only to be disappointed with the lackluster overall vibe of the event.

"Don't flatter yourself, everyone's bound to glow up from high school after all."

The woman almost believed the latter, almost commended him for staying calm when it had been so easy to irritate him back then. They would have remained in an impasse. Afterall, Chanmi recognized boundaries and since her parents instructed her to behave she would have.

She would have.

Jinyoung's continuous hold on her gaze commanded her full attention. He drank from his champagne flute with a deliberate slowness that kept her riveted. Chanmi leaned into the table, her elbows propped on the cheap tablecloth, hands cradling her chin as she watched him. When he almost choked on the alcohol, a mirthful laugh escaped her painted tiers. Her eyes turned into crescents with genuine amusement at the turn of events, and she didn’t miss the slight crimson spreading across his cheeks.

Some things never change.

Jinyoung leaned in as well, and from a distance, it might have appeared as if the two were engaged in a serious academic discussion. In truth, their exchange was anything but that. Chanmi appreciated the curiosity and irritation in his tone, relishing in her ability to still push his buttons as she had in the past.

"My parents are alumnis, alumnis who are far too important and far too busy to attend this function. Although they don't want to appear like the snobs that they actually are so they sent me instead. "

From her peripheral vision, she spotted a server carrying a tray of champagne flutes. With practiced ease, she momentarily removed her gaze from the male to beckon the server. When the server approached, Chanmi took a flute and sipped from her glass, letting out a small, satisfied sigh. At least the alcohol was not subpar. The momentary distraction allowed her to savor the taste, her amusement undiminished by the brief interruption.

"But I don't intend on staying for long. Though I can see you staying til the end. Or did that change now too? Since you said you're merely attending out of courtesy." Chanmi takes another sip, awaiting his answers like he was the most entertaining thing.

@kim chanmi. Clad in a Dior suit, it was clear she can rack up connections from the wealth accrued alone by someone in her family. Presumptuous on his end, he had his fair sample size of affluent students from abroad. Once Chanmi shifted her attention from the others onto him, he felt an eerie calm settle over him, akin to the sea before a storm strikes. Jinyoung felt he was regarded by a snake, its narrow slits for eyes keenly observing his every move. Due to his many years standing behind a podium, addressing hundreds of students at a time, he familiarized himself with not only the taunting and hoards of insults from students, but the confused, wide-eyed stares he earned from his lectures amidst the ennui in sitting in a lecture room for hours. Over time, his ire drained out of him, replaced with an insouciance to blithely respond or simply fail them if they performed poorly.

However, Chanmi was a unique case. She rebelled, lashed at him as if he were her prey when she was bored. Defaulting to his usual tactics failed to sate her, in which, he pondered on the propriety of the push and pull, if it was purely intellectual, or if something else was at play. Despite their brief encounters few and far between, she left a strong impression.

”Is it such a crime to engage in intellectual discussion with other intellectuals? That is like judging a fish for living in water. And in regards to attendance, I simply appeared out of courtesy.” He stated matter-of-factly, keeping his tone even.

“Though I reckon that I exceeded any expectations you had of me? Not to mention, your concerns with who I surround myself with in the first place.” As he continued, he was brimming with smugness, playing with the sense of control he had in this interaction. With one side of his mouth curling up to a smirk, he reciprocated the teasing lilt residing on the top of her tongue.

Holding the champagne flute up to his lips wordlessly served as an answer to her inquiry about the distribution of alcohol in the establishment. Looking up from his glass, he gave her an expectant look.

As he consumed his beverage, however, he nearly sputtered out his drink. Clearing his throat, he felt embarrassment rise within him and warmth tinged his cheeks from hearing the nickname. Considerably a trite epithet, it brought a sense of dread within him. Perhaps, no matter how much he grew up, he still remained the same nerdy recluse that he was as a young child.

Already, the conversation set him on edge, but it also invited a challenge to overcome. The other interlocutors failed to entertain him, as dull as the shades of gray painted on the walls. Sparking a fuse within him, Jinyoung steeled himself before he leaned forward, keeping his voice hushed but loud enough for her to hear above the inane chatter.

”Before you call me ‘prez’ again, I need you to tell me the real reason you are here.”

Tucked away in the corners of the room, his voice sounded more irritated than he intended to let on.

@kim jisoo. "On your left!"

Bohyun hears his comrade shout from a further side of the arena, and without thought, he blindly believes the younger's words and pulls the trigger of his marker on its direction. A video game sound blasts from the speakers of the open space, signaling the death of a player, and with a brief glance, he watches as a male from the opposing party leave the arena with his hands up high. Alright, you might be wondering why he's out at a university, playing a pretty childish game with kids, but don't judge him too much. Apparently, it's college week and folks from all over town are invited to campus to join the fun and help students reach their quota. It just so happens some of his juniors from the army forced him to come over, threatening they'll fail if they don't bring at least one guest from outside.

Either way, that aside, he's been having a fair share of his fun on the 'battlefield,' having played for a second round straight. Looking around, there are new members on his team and it seems one of them is struggling? Out of pure kindness (aka competitiveness), he jogs over to the female and politely asks her, "What's wrong with your gun? Need help?"

@jung jinyoung. "Do not embarrass us."

Chanmi was haunted by the hollow words that echoed in her mind as she arrived at the prestigious institution her parents had once attended. As she surveyed the grand building hosting the dreary party, she wasted no time in donning her practiced smile. She resolved to behave, even though she was clad in an uncomfortably stiff black Dior pantsuit. Her aim was neither to blend in nor to stand out—just to endure the event until she could slip back into obscurity. She doubted any of these bright-eyed nerds would recognize her anyway. In a way, she was effectively camouflaged.

After speaking to the organizers of the event and handing them the cheque that her parents ordered her to pass along, Chanmi merely makes idle chatter. Letting the conversation fizzle out without showing as much enthusiasm as the happy host had shown her.

It wasn't too shabby, she supposed, with the decent decorations laid out on the long tables. She even spotted a few pleasant faces here and there, though her gaze never lingered for more than a moment, especially when they noticed her staring. Though she cursed her parents for forcing her to attend /early/

"Lay low." She mutters to herself. And attracting men, especially the ones who were normally not her type went against everything her parents ordered her to.

As the night progressed, she found herself tucked away in a corner. Choosing a seat in a less crowded part of the room, purposely avoiding the academic discussions swirling around her. It wasn't for lack of intellect, but rather because she didn't want to waste her breath on trivialities. Her back was turned to the entrance when a familiar voice called out to her.

“Chanmi? I did not anticipate you seeking an opportunity here. Though, I would not put it past you to expand your horizons.”

Her eye twitches, who would have thought someone would actually recognize her. The voice belonged to someone from the distant past, to someone who reprimanded her one too many times. Albeit deeper now.

"I should have expected to see you at this kind of event," The woman shifts her attention to him, expecting to see the same image of him from her past. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find he had grown beyond her memories. His haircut was better, his style more refined. There was also a noticeable shift in the way he carried himself—more confident, yet still undeniably a nerd if he was attending these gatherings.

"Don't tell me you came here to engage in intellectual conversations with.. colleagues?" He looked like a professor, she supposed. Though Chanmi wasn't sure. Perhaps he was a representative as well, or just another alumni.

"Do they even serve alcohol in these kind of events? Prez." Chanmi teases, with the same nickname she used to call him back in the day. With this unexpected development, her night might still yet be salvaged.

@kim chanmi. Teeming with people, vacuous and idle chatter filled up the dining hall. A litany of mentions surrounding networking, internships, and alumni packages followed him in his unremarkable entrance. Fundraising for a certain department (that wasn’t his) was an honorable mention. Some looked less than enthused to be there; some were enthralled by the long rows of floral arrangements lined on top of the wooden table. Or were sitting in wait for dinner to be served. Lamps casted shades of gold within the dimly lit room, while failing to light up the void ever consuming him from within. As he walked in, Jinyoung was not expecting people to already be there, especially the crowds that surrounded them. For moments, he was grateful for the cloak of invisibility that draped over him. After several years, the organizers finally realized to up the budget for a venue that was not a dingy recreational center.

I see that the money was being put to use, he mused.

Used to being the first one in attendance, he dressed up in his usual: a white button up and black slacks that pooled around his ankle, with dress shoes shined to the nines.

Scanning the room to feel that flicker of familiarity, he found none. Then he settled on an empty seat, besides another person not worth noting taking up his periphery. Until his eyes landed on a woman sitting across from him, with a strong aura emanating from her. Except she was not a random passerby, she existed in a history he refused to look back on. Troublesome as a student, he wondered how much trouble followed her here, in a tranquil, yet dull environment.

“Chanmi? I did not anticipate you seeking an opportunity here. Though, I would not put it past you to expand your horizons.” His lips curved into a wry smile, suppressing the urge to let any more snark slip.