When Chang-Min was seven, he had already grasped the fundamentals of life and everything he needed for survival. He was practical and technically driven.

He wasn't greedy, nor naive. He was efficient and thoughtful, and always had the knack for surprising people.

"Mother," He would say "You don't need to buy me designer clothes anymore."

And his mother would always cast her eyebrows together with a bemused look on her face "What?" She would ask.

"designer clothes." Chang-Min would repeat, calmer and more collected the first time he said it "I don't need them anymore. Rather, would you please buy at fast fashion shops and give the excess of my shopping allowance in cash instead?"

After that, his mother would just hang her mouth agape as she watches her son scurry off the room to play with his dollar-cost toys from Target. She wouldn't believe it.

Her six year old son just asked her for money.

.

When Chang-Min had turned twelve and his parents suggested to hold a grand party at their house for his coming of age, he politely bowed his head in front of them and said:

"Thank you. But I have no need for a party. Rather, would you save the money you plan to use for my party for your insurances instead?"

After that, he would lift his head, bow again, lift, turn around, and walk away, leaving his parents stumped and bothered. He always left right before his parents would start bickering about his approach, and he intended for it to be that way.

Who would want to hear their parents lecture you on your lifestyle?

For the rest of the evening, Chang-Min spends his time locked up in his study, reading Charles Dickens' Great Expectations.

He momentarily lays the book down for a break and a quick thought- he wonders if his parents would allow him to live alone at the age of eighteen.

Then, he pulls the books right back up to his face again.

His eyes scan through the words in the book as his mind takes in their meanings, yet it doesn't stop him from using half of his brain to think:

But would they really let me?

.

On the same day, Chang-Min has finished the book. He now rockets a turn towards the shelf behind him to look for something else to read.

Hidden and casted away from the rest of its buddies, he had found what seems to be a lost and found of his mother's: Romeo and Juliet.

Now, Chang-Min knows about it, of course. A wide reader like him not knowing about Shakespeare's works just wouldn't be right. He knew both protagonists die a the end, the perfect trope for a tragedy, and idiosyncratic screenwriting.

Other from that, he knew nothing else.

So he gave it a try- afterall, the world was all about trials.

For some reason, he didn't walk back to his desk. He plopped himself down the floor with his legs crossed timidly.

He skimmed through and was now twenty pages in, he hadn't even noticed it was nighttime until his vision hazed and he could barely make out a single word from the book because of the terrible lightning.

Twenty-one pages in and he was bored.

Both halves of the book collided with a 'thump!' and he pushed it back down the shelf with a 'woosh!' and now, he has nothing better to do.

Just a hand to the floor and the other cushioned to his chubby, left cheek. He tries to remember everything he has read about it so far, but his mind just went blank. There was nothing.

Ah!

He does recall, Romeo was a cliché and Juliet was a pushover. He narrows his eyes as he thinks despite those defects, the two were still a good match.

Ah, he sighs must be nice.

Huh- what? What did he just say? He slaps himself with the hand he leaned his cheek on and shook his head. Forgetting yet again, everything about the story.

He's kinda hungry.

So why? Despite being hungry, which was his most disfunctional state, he still wonders how two people could be stupidly in love. Stupid enough to die for the other.

This time though, he doesn't puncture a hand against his cheek and simply embraces the thought. Must be nice.

What? Just because he wasn't a typical teenager doesn't mean he wasn't a teenager. Chang-Min was almost thirteen, it's natural for boys his age to fantasize love. Even if it was him.

That being said, he grumbles upon an epiphany he pushed aside at the back of his brain-

today was still his birthday.

.

Now, Chang-Min was tall, handsome, brooding, and at the ripe age of eighteen.

He had a car, a house, and most importantly, responsibilities. Because growing up was all about owning up, and now he was in college, which was nothing but work.

Freshman at Seoul National University and the talk of the town.

Because frankly, Chang-Min's only been able to walk around the admission booths at the open field and he's already receiving gossip and cat calls.

"Oppa!" A girl calls for him.

He looks at her and- holy fuck- she looked so annoying, and she was annoying. Chang-Min won't say it, but this bitch just called her oppa and he does not like it.

"Are you a freshman too?" She asks Chang-Min with a painfully obvious, forced pitch in her voice.

Chang-Min glances at her before looking back at the field "Yeah." He says, cold.

"Omg! So am I!" She squeals, as if it wasn't obvious "I'm-" jshakalwja.

Chang-Min doesn't listen, nor care. Because to him, everything else that comes up from this girl's mouth was absolute gibberish.

The girl must've been finished, Chang-Min assumes, because then she just kept tugging on his Arc'teryx Chilco (yes. i did my research, it's a shirt) polo shirt "Oppa?" She calls out.

Chang-Min groans.

"Look lady, don't take this the wrong way but you're annoying and I'm busy looking for someone. So that being said," He skids away "Can you please fuck off?"

No words came after Chang-Min had said that, the girl just gave her a strangled, speechless look.

And so she fucked off.

"Well, that's no way to talk to a lady."

Jungkook heard someone say and whipped his head to where it came from.

Well, speak for yourself.

He spots another lady, looking his age, tall and skinny, with blinding, silver hair. She had this disappointing scowl on her face that Chang-Min just wished he could wipe off, because truthfully, it was annoying.

So he ignores it and turns his head back.

"What. You're not gonna talk to me too?" The same neutral tone speaks, and by the sounds of it, the silver haired girl was closer than she was the first time Chang-Min took a peak.

"I don't believe I'm obliged to." Chang-Min says, loudly and clearly enough for silver girl to hear.

He heard a brazen hmph from the silver haired lady, followed by a "You're not even looking at me."

"I believe I have every right not to." Chang-Min stills "And what do you want from me? I hope you're not here to lecture me about women."

Oh!

Jungkook flinches the very slightest when the silver haired lady popped up in front of him with her whole body in display. And now that he's got a clear view of her, she's not actually that bad.

"Oh I definitely am!"

"What."

"I'm definitely here to teach you about women. How dare you curse at that lady a while ago!"

And Chang-Min takes it back. About her not being that bad? Well, she's all bad.

So before silver could get started on her 50 minute lecture on women, Chang-Min struts away with heavy steps. Silver screaming for his name in the background.

"HEY YOO CHANG-MIN! I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU!"

But Chang-Min's far done with him. He walks faster and by the time he looked back, silver was no longer to be seen. What a whacko, screaming his name in public like that.

Come to think of it - Chang-Min doesn't remember ever telling his name. He looks back at the track he took to where he was now and tensed his body.

Who the hell was she?