Taeyong liked wandering around the campus library during his free time, letting his curious gaze wander over the broken spine of old books, the freshly dusted wooden shelves, and finally, on the cute library volunteer. It’s become a routine to him, now. Every afternoon, exactly at three, Taeyong would rush to the eerily vacant library, basking in the silence of the large area until the young girl made an appearance. He’d swoon so dangerously, books clutched to his chest as if he was a school girl with a devilishly ugly crush. He’s checked out book after book, always so excited to approach the counter. He’ll let his gaze linger longer than appropriate and leave. 

There was nothing special to it, yet his friends had always found it amusing, cute even. Every single word spilled from their lips would leave a bold pink tint on Taeyong’s cheeks and a gold-winning, pearly smile on his lips. And then came their teasing. Uncomfortably loud coos of adoration drips from his friend’s rather large mouths and he grumbles, blushing more feverishly than before. Even though he’s expressed his disgust and anger towards such words, he had secretly liked it, but he’s always kept to himself.

Taeyong was no stranger to child-like crushes but he still managed to act like every single feeling bursting so dangerously in his heart was his first. He remains pure, never once having his hand on another girl, or boy for that matter, and never once confessing. He’s received confessions before, but had always rejected them, no matter who it was from. Taeyong was always so pure, so innocent—so virtuous. Love was nothing to him compared to his studies, and everyone was envious of him for this trait. 

Taeyong was a saint, defined so perfectly to the tee. It was no surprise that half of the university chased after him so crazily. Boys were so jealous of him, eyes dripping with envy every single time the music major even so passes by. And the females drooled shamelessly around him, not afraid to state what they’ve been feeling. Even after two years experiencing such treatment, Taeyong still came out as shy and introverted. 

“I haven’t got much time on my hands for dating,” he chides to the unexpecting boy in front of him, and he doesn’t really care if he was listening or not, “I wish they would stop asking. I am no God, either. So they should stop treating me like one,” he continues restlessly, eyes so wide with confusion and feelings Taeil couldn’t even process for himself. So, he offers the younger boy a single hum of understanding and a pat on the back, hoping that it was enough to bring comfort to the riled up young adult.

They ate peacefully, no one dared say another word for Taeyong seemed like he was about to explode any moment. Taeil looked at the boy fondly, well knowing that Taeyong only meant well, even if his words didn’t express it so politely from time to time. And so the silence stayed comfortable, telepathic whispers of comforting words were shared between them, knowing gazes were passed back and forth. 

“You two are rather silent today,” Doyoung sings teasingly, taking a seat behind the two. He busily pulled heavy bunches of textbooks out of his bag and a single pen along with it. Taeil glares devilishly at the younger, only stopping when Doyoung returned it with a sheepish grin and a silent, but shameful apology, “What’s up with Taeyong today?” Doyoung continues to question, but this time, his voice was barely above a whisper.

Taeil turns around, swinging his legs over the chair’s arm rest and into a more comfortable position. Taeyong gives him a questioning look, but the oldest music major sends him a grin and brushes the annoying feeling of being carefully watched off his shoulder, knowing well that Taeyong would get bored. He takes a deep breath, “He’s found an awfully obsessive love letter in his bag this morning. He’s been in an uncomfortably bad mood ever since. The letter was crazily detailed; describing Taeyong’s every feature. It was horrifying from start to finish.”

Doyoung bends away for a moment, lips pursed so tightly and eyes pouring with horrific fears, “Damn,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I knew something like this would happen one day—sooner or later.” Taeil nods in agreement, tapping his pen irritatingly on the edge of his desk. “He doesn’t know who it is?”

“Of course not, you think some crazy love psycho would actually reveal himself at the start of the game?” the older boy exclaims wildly, and Doyoung stifles a laugh, “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, it just sounds like you’ve been watching way too many movies,” the purple-haired boy chides, silencing himself when Taeyong turns around, gives the two a single stare, and turns back silently, returning his focus on the essay that was given out just today, “He always has to finish his assignments right after it was given. No wonder so many people drool over him like a ing dog. Even their parents would approve of such a person.” 

Taeil gives him a barely audible hum and the silence returns; this time, it was focused and tinted with bursts of awkwardness, but the three continued to remain this way as the rest of the class yelled angrily behind them, energetic students rowdily chirped violently at each other while some were terribly curious, trying to listen in on the conversation. The rambunctious class had no stops to it, and the three boys just let it happen. However, Doyoung and Taeil were expecting Taeyong to stand up like he usually does, eyes burning with the ugly feeling of disdain as he yelled at the top of his lungs for them to stop. But he didn’t, to their rather obvious disappointment. Taeil sends a glance to Doyoung, a kind of gaze that shows everything—that says everything, and Doyoung, even with much reluctance, sends it back. 

“Hey, Taeyong,” Doyoung voices, tapping the back-bent boy lightly, as if the young music major was a snoozing bear in the cold midst of winter, “Taeil and I were planning on crashing at your dorm tonight, if you don’t mind. Johnny’s got his basketball friends over and alcohol is involved.”

“I just want to crash at your place,” Taeil brushes nonchalantly, a sheepish smile decorated ever so neatly on his features. Taeyong smiles kindly—the kind of smile that caused so many students to swoon, fall so dangerously for him—and he nods, muttering a soft ‘sure, why not’ in the midst of the loud, rather childish screaming of their classmates. “Cool, we’ll be there by seven.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you company,” the youngest quips and Taeyong groans.

Class ended with no interruptions and Taeyong was weak to his bones; his wrist sore and his fingers were terribly chafed. He skipped excitedly down the congested hallways, his soft mutters of ‘sorry’s went unheard as angry heads turned around, sending devilish glares towards the busily moving boy. Three o’clock ticked around quickly, and it was hard to shove down the feeling of burning excitement as he raced towards the campus library, teeth showing and heart racing just as fast as his feet were. 

“Ah, good afternoon, Taeyong,” the girl behind the counter quips, her head hung low as she searched around under the desk. Taeyong mutters the same words in return, too shy to speak any louder. He expected the library to be empty as he roamed around, picking out books from different shelves, but to his disappointment, a tall boy was humming and whistling absentmindedly, roaming around the otherwise quiet library just like he was. 

Taeyong has never thought of himself as selfish—the devilishly negative feeling was no where found in any of his bones, no matter how deep people had searched, but now; now, it was hard to not think of a way to get the taller boy out of the library. 

The young boy sneaks around the library, peeking through gaps left behind by missing books along the shelves. Grimacing, Taeyong straightens himself, boldly walking past aisles of books he might’ve been interested in, but he sacrifices the thought and continues along the way, rather disappointed. The music gathers the courage as he approached the boy, finally realizing that it was one of Johnny’s players. 

Jung Jaehyun, the epitome of an Ice Prince. Even just the thought of approaching him now made the young adult shiver, frightened. He was no nicer than Taeyong was, but he was just so-so, not too different from what Taeyong had been building up throughout the school year. At least, that’s what he had heard from the many rumors passed and taken along the university hallways and during class. But Jaehyun’s aura was different, frighteningly so. Taeyong couldn’t help the feeling of nervous nausea growing in his stomach which was painfully empty. 

Jaehyun was not emotionless. No, but he was definitely merciless towards other students, no matter who it was. From what Johnny had said before; it was normal for basketball players to be like that, but Taeyong was doubtful of the stereotype when it comes to Jaehyun. He was no saint—he was nice, yes, nice enough. But not virtuous. Never. 

So, when Taeyong taps a finger on the boy’s shoulder, he was expecting a rather rude ‘what’ or maybe even a cold ‘excuse me’. However, the boy never even once opened his mouth. He just looked at Taeyong with a puppy-like gaze, questioning and curious. So up close like this, Taeyong realizes just how tall Jaehyun was compared to him and he shrinks even further. Embarrassingly shy, Taeyong shoots the basketball player a smile and a soft mutter consisting of the untruthful words ‘sorry, wrong person’ and quickly walks away. 

Taeyong rested against shelf far away from the boy, his cheeks burned with undying embarrassment and an uncomfortably suspicious feeling in his stomach churned. “Damn,” he groans, holding his head.

Looking at his small stack of books, Taeyong decides to go home as his bones rattled tiredly. He heads towards the counter, giving the girl behind the counter, a soft expectant smile. He hadn’t gotten to say much with the girl since Jaehyun was busily walking around the prodigious area, as if he was examining every nook and cranny of the library, and Taeyong was not ready for someone else, much less an aloof stranger, to witness his stumbling failures as he tried to flirt. He was no stranger to public embarrassment; Yuta had made him dance and sing in a street full of people and to his amazement, people had started taking out their phones, and some started throwing money into Yuta’s snapback and not surprisingly, he took it with his contagious gummy smile. 

“Good afternoon, Seulgi,” he greets, feeling his heartbeat race dangerously faster than normal. She chuckles, grabbing the stack of books from his hands, “Do you have some extra time? I need to… ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Taeyong,” she replies quickly and Taeyong tries to calm his obnoxiously beating heart by listening to the equally as obnoxious beeping of the check out machine, “As long as it doesn’t take too long, I have a date.” 

He hadn’t wanted to hear those words before he even started, but he can’t dodge the inevitable. Whilst Seulgi packed the books up in a small bag for him, Taeyong was trying hard not to cry. The feeling of nausea pried at his mouth and he wanted to throw up right then and there. Of course, she had a date, he thinks to himself, head hanging low in disappointment. The silence was enough to help him mend his broken heart, and he tried his best to act normally. 

“So what’d you need?” Seulgi questions, head propped on one hand, her puppy-like eyes stared up at him s curiously, he wanted to hit himself for wanting someone that was already taken. “You have until four to explain to me.” And she smiles. That smile that made him swoon so hard in the first place. He felt ever so guilty and disgusted with himself, it was inexplainable. 

“Actually, I don’t really think it’s that impor—”

“Anything is important when it comes to our campus prince, Taeyong,” she teases, laughing so light heartedly that it made Taeyong’s heart clench. This was not what he wanted to happen, but it did and Taeyong would do anything, anything to avoid this situation if he could turn back time. 

Campus prince indeed, he cringes as he thinks, and he remembers. The devilishly creepy letter found in his bag, those stalker-like details about his life, and the way too ual references towards his ever so ‘beautifully feminine’ features. Taeyong groans at the thought and Seulgi shoots him a concerned look. 

“I found this letter,” he pauses, digging in his bag and pulls out a rather pretty envelope carved with golden roses and silver hearts. He wonders how something so beautiful on the outside was so disgustingly terrible on the inside, “I hope you could help me find who wrote this, please. You work at the library so there must be a lot of people you know.”

She snatches the letter from the counter surface, ripping open the envelope to get into the contents. Taeyong could see the cutely curious looks she gives before opening the envelope and suddenly, he feels bad for lying. Maybe he was no saint. Never that virtuous. He’s not as perfect as he thinks he is. He ogles Seulgi’s expressions—not just because he’s been harboring an ugly crush on this certain girl—he was curious himself.

The young woman screeches in disgust, slamming the letter back onto the wooden desk surface, lips forming into a deep frown and her eyes squinted carefully, seeping with atrocious fear that it frightened Taeyong himself. 

“What the ?” she shrieks, and Jaehyun’s irritatingly soothing humming in the background halts for a moment. Both noticing it well, Seulgi drags Taeyong into the storeroom, letter and envelope clenched in between his lean fingers. She slams the door hastily, dragging to chairs into the center of the room and forces Taeyong down on one of them. “What the is this bull?” She points to the letter, wrinkled and slightly torn by being stuffed so deeply inside his bag filled with four-finger-thick textbooks, “You have a stalker?” 

“I wouldn’t call it a stalker,” he chides in return, “More like… obsessive hopeless romantics,” he jokes unconsciously and Seulgi sends him a stern glare.

“Taeyong, stop that. This is no joking matter,” she scolds, throwing the letter on a random box, dents present on every side of the cardboard and it was messily packaged, much to Taeyong’s disliking, “Are you listening to me? What type of hopeless romantic would write a line like ‘I want those feminine cherry lips  around my hard’— ugh! I can’t finish it. Or this line; ‘You’re like a present perfectly wrapped, so beautiful. You were made for me to rip open, to tear apart.’ Oh my God, Taeyong.”

“I get it! Stop reading it, Seulgi,” he shouts seriously, the feeling of nausea returning, scratching at the back of his throat. His insides churn uncomfortably and he wants to run and hide, and never come out. “I’ve only read it once but I’ve memorized it, so stop. Please.” 

“I’m sorry, Taeyong,” she whispers, crouching down to his height. He had hung his head low, too embarrassed to look up straight into Seulgi’s eyes. It was shameful to admit having such a creepy person falling for you, and it was twice as shameful for his crush to know about. Taeyong had been ruined already, “Are you crying? Did I make you uncomfortable? Oh my goodness, Taeyong, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” 

Seulgi grabs the back of his head and suffocates him in a tightening hug, her hand rubbing circles on his back. Taeyong winces, knowing well that there was no romantic affection in such an action, but he lets his mind fool him for a moment. Just this once.

“Seulgi, I’m not crying,” he replies with the obvious. But he had to admit, he was very close, terribly close, to crying—breaking down like a stressed first year college student, a child who needed his mom. “But I’ll die very quickly if you keep on holding me like this. I can’t breathe.”

“Oh,” she chuckles sheepishly, a hand coming up to rub her nape, “It’s become a habit for me. You share such a love for books like me, and you’re just so sweet to everybody. You’ve become my son without me noticing.” 

Oh, so that’s how it is. Taeyong feels a little lied to, a little angry, just a little of every negative feeling that always never showed up finally existed and it bubbled angry, but he forces himself to stifle it, just for the sake of Seulgi’s friendship. But he can’t help but think, all those smiles, soft touches, and encouraging words were motherly. It hurt him more than he would like to express it. Yes, it was definitely hard to harbor a crush, he finally realizes. 

“I’ll help you out, don’t worry. My date is a psychology major, I’ll introduce you when I have the chance, but I’m pretty sure she can help.”

So it’s a she, Taeyong thinks silently, so it’s a girl. Of course this had to happen to him.

“Thank you so much,” he forces a smile, stuffing the letter and envelope back into his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She waves with a bright smile, but it soon turns into a deep frown, enough to change Taeyong’s mood also, “You’re keeping that psychopath’s letter?”

“Won’t we need it for your date to examine,” he retorts, grinning, and Seulgi nods understandingly. She opens the door, escorting the boy out of the rather large storeroom. Taeyong was silent all the way through, and he expected to do the same all the way home, but a rather tall and suspicious looking figure stood at the counter, a stack of medical textbooks were placed on the table, and Jaehyun, with his ominous self, was whistling once again. Not to lie, but it was getting on Taeyong’s nerves. 

“I thought he left,” Taeyong groans, and Seulgi catches it, smiling ever so brightly. She prances ecstatically towards the counter, scanning the stack of medical books without a single frown on her face. “So he’s a medical major? That’s shocking,” he continues to whisper to himself, truly surprised. 

Finally finished with his checkout, Jaehyun turns around to meet a pair of doe eyes silently ogling him, and he forces an awkward smile, gives Taeyong a chuckle and makes his way around the smaller male without any suspicious doubts. Taeyong, with his burning cheeks and feverishly hot ears, follows quickly behind him, not before giving a friendly wave to Seulgi who was busy packing up, applying a thin layer of lip gloss onto her lips, and running a hand through her hair; getting ready for her date.

He stays behind Jaehyun as he walked, shocked that he lived in the same building Taeyong does. And he felt slightly weirded out with himself, suddenly feeling like a stalker. “You guys live in the same building,” he reminds himself, trying to calm his nerves. 

The walk was peaceful, that is, until the sound of suspicious footsteps started syncing with his own, following way too close to him than he would like. He sped up a little, not daring to look back. The silence around him was terribly frightening and the atmosphere was suffocating. Taeyong was completely scared out of his wits as he continued to walk, approaching close to Jaehyun. The footsteps behind him sped up, closer and closer until he screamed, the thought of having a stalker driving him to the edge. 

Shocked, Jaehyun turns around, his bright doe eyes meeting with a shrunken figure. Taeyong had his head down, eyes clenched ever so tightly, and his hands came up to his head, covering his ears. The basketball player raised an eyebrow carefully approaching the shorter male. He reached a hand out slowly, gently, giving the boy a single touch; a pat on the shoulder, and a gentle squeeze. 

Taeyong was hysterical, pushing Jaehyun’s shoulders and he crouched down, curled up into a ball of fear. The medical student looks up, catching the eyes of two very sheepish boys with bags in their hands. Jaehyun stifles a laugh as Taeil shrugs and Doyoung frowns, crouching down to Taeyong’s level.

“Hey, Taeyong,” he whispers, running a gentle hand through Taeyong’s hair, “It’s just me, Doyoung and Taeil.”

Hearing the familiar names, Tayeong immediately lifts his head, sending the two a frightful glare, “What the actual , you two? Stop following me like that! You know I have a ing psychopath after me, stop scaring me like that!” Taeyong shrieks, using his free hand to slap the purple-haired male’s shoulder. 

“To be very honest, I thought your friend here was stalking me,” Jaehyun exclaims in the midst of everything, wincing when all three pair of eyes turn towards him, all glaring bullets into the taller male’s head. 

“Why would you say that?” Taeyong tests, curious.

Jaehyun cards a hand through his hair, and Taeyong thinks it makes him look devilishly handsome, “Well, at the library you were staring at me for quite a long time before you approached me. And then, you stared at me again at the entrance. Lastly, you were walking rather ominously behind me just now.”

Doyoung and Taeil bursts into fits of hysterical laughter, practically rolling on the floor if there weren’t so many people watching. Taeyong huffs, blowing a puff of air against his low-hanging bangs, “That’s because I thought someone was stalking me.”

“I guess we’re all stalking each other,” Taeil exclaims happily. Taeyong was fuming, throwing his bookbag at the older male’s body.

“I have a real psychopath obsessed with me, Taeil. Stop joking like that.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Taeil retorts, patting Taeyong’s head. 

Doyoung was the silent one, bending down to pick up Taeyong’s bookbag. Its content had scattered across the sidewalk, but what caught his eye was a shimmering envelope, so beautifully crafted with golden roses and shining silver hearts. 

“Oh, a confession letter?” 

Taeyong’s gaze fixes onto the crouched down figure, and in panic, he snatches the envelope away hastily, ripping it open in the process, “No, it’s nothing.” Taeyong crams the letter back into his bag, repeating the same words to himself. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing if it’s got you so riled up like that,” Jaehyun speaks, his words were slow and careful, as if he was afraid of offending Taeyong. 

“No, it’s really nothing.”
 

Taeil sends a look towards Jaehyun, and he turns back to Taeyong, equally as careful, “Tae, it’s okay to tell. More people can help you out.”

Taeyong heaves a sigh, feeling quite shameful. Seulgi knew, Taeil knew. He didn’t need a pack of people knowing and helping him—it made him feel weak, just like how the person who wrote the letter described him. He didn’t want any of the letter’s words to be true. Not even an ounce. But Taeyong was scared, so scared to the point where he’s close to wrecking himself. So he lets it happen one more time. Just once more. Doyoung was his friend after all. And Jaehyun was probably someone he could depend on. 

So, he threw the letter at the two oblivious boys, letting their curious minds rip open the content and he watched them read curiously. Their eyebrows furrowed, their jaws dropped every now and then. Jaehyun slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening, and Doyoung gulps, a gasp passed through his lips. Both of them had ‘horrified’ written all over their features. Taeyong didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. 

“Gosh,” Jaehyun breathes, being the first one to finish. Doyoung’s eyes were still scanning over the letter, and Taeyong thinks that he’s detaching every single word, every single letter, every single pen with his wide eyes. “That’s kind of sick.”

“Not kind of, Jaehyun,” Taeil speaks, “It is sick.”

Doyoung hastily stuffs the letter back into the envelope hastily, his breathing shallowed, and he paled as if he had seen a ghost, “So this was the letter you were talking about?”

“What other letter could it be?” Taeil snaps back.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” Doyoung retorts.

“Well, now you know that I’m not.”

“That’s crazy,” Jaehyun finally speaks up, “Too crazy, even.”

__

A/N: It's an update! The first chapter of what might turn into a monster of a story. I really had fun writing this chapter since I used a different technique to write (when I write for an online audience, my writing techniques are different than writing for a personal story so I had fun trying this one out.) I feel like this is kinda rushed? But it also introduces some key characters so I feel satisfied with it. I wrote this in one night and pulled an all-nighter because I was so paranoid so there might be some spelling mistakes/grammar mistakes. auzumi really helped me out a lot last night and never once complained why I called her at two am in the morning so props to her for being a good friend. 

Thank you so much for reading this monstrous chapter and supporting me! I didn't expect to get so much feedback for only a forward and I'm really touched.

(I like doing interactive things like asking questions so, question; how'd you get into NCT?)

(I watched NCT U's The 7th Sense right when it was released but I didn't like the song much (I play it everyday now) but then NCT 127 rolled around and I really enjoyed the song even though it was quite different. All I wanted to do was find out their names, but here I am... *sighs*)

ANYWAYS, thank you so much for the love! I love you guys! :))