The Flowers You Left For Me.

They told me I was smart, the anonymous sponsor, but were my grades really so marvelous to be transferred to the city? A top student in the countryside, that’s me, Kim Areum.

I’ve been working all my life to get noticed and they decide to notice me now? Third year in high school? Jeez.

I’ve been assigned to live in an apartment just south of the city and a couple of minutes walk from school. It is a relatively small apartment, but it’s modern, so I don’t mind it that much. I stood in front of the entrance to the tall building marveling at it’s impressive height. It wasn’t something you’d see everyday in the countryside.

This anonymous sponsor must really be caring to be able to let me live here, though I’ve never seen his or her face.

I sigh.

So this is what it’s like living in Seoul. The joy.

After unpacking I look out the window to look at the surroundings of my new home. I start school tomorrow, but there were quite a few things I had to get sorted out. Eomma and Appa had said that I needed to get a part time job so I do not trouble my sponsor too much. Despite everything being taken care of for me, it was still a good idea for me to atleast try to make a living for myself. I take out the job hunting flyers that I printed the moment I arrived. I knew it was old fashioned but that’s how we did it in the countryside and that’s all I knew for now.

I run around and staple them to wooden poles, convenience stores and everywhere you can imagine. It's hard work and under the heat of the fall sun, I start to sweat. I push back my long hair and noticed the cuts all over my hands.

I laugh to myself, feeling pathetic and insignificant.

So much for Seoul so far.

I hold my last flyer in my hand careful not to get any blood on it. Wondering where I should pin it, I walked by a big beefy man, wiping the windows of a small diner. He stops and takes a look at me.

“Whatcha got there young lady?” He smiles, straightening up to stretch his back.

I blink. Is he talking to me?

I shrug and hand him my flyer. He puts on the glasses hanging around his neck and reads.

“If you need a job, I can offer you one. Though, a fair warning, you won’t get paid that much.” He grins cheekily and scratches the back of his head. “Your hands must be stinging in pain, come inside and I’ll have my son cleanse them.”

Not much pay? I guess that’s better than nothing.

I follow him inside the packed diner, taking in the smell of eggs and kimchi. The man waves me over to him and guides me into the back room.

“Baekhyun!” He calls, his voice is deafening.

“Ne, father.” The boy, presumably, Baekhyun, rushes in, wiping his sweat with a spare cloth. “What is it?”

“Can you help this girl, her hands are full of cuts and splinters.”

I bow slightly at the sight of the boy and he bows his head back. He sighs and notions for me to come to the bathroom.

“Chanyeol take my shift!” Baekhyun yells just as we walked through the door making me jump in surprise.

From the door I see another boy look our way and roll his eyes.

“Why. I just got break.” He whines and pulls himself up lazily.

“I’m in the middle of something.” Baekhyun points towards me.

I study the boy, my eyes squinting to see him clearer. He looks familiar.

The boy, Chanyeol leans forward to get a closer look at me. His dark brown eyes, big ears and round chin jogged my memories of childhood.

“Ch-Chanyeol.” I mumble to myself recalling the small boy that followed me around as a child.

Yep. That’s definitely him.

I turn my head away from Chanyeol and follow Baekhyun through another door.

He motions for me to sit at a wooden table and I comply. A single big yellow light shines in the middle of the table, dimly illuminated what seemed to be a storage room. He takes the huge first aid kit he grabbed from the washroom and slides it on the table, stopping it in front of me.

“You’ve been quiet, can you talk?” He tilts his head and chuckles to himself. “It’s rare for my father to stop me during my shift.”

I narrow my eyes at him and bite my lip, not knowing how to react to his words.

“I guess not. Well, I’m Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun.” Baekhyun smiles meekly.

Not really caring to converse with him, I reach for the first aid kit to wrap my wounds. He swatts my hands away and grabs me by the wrist, pulling my hand closer to him. I blink in surprise at his actions.

City boys sure are different.

He stares at my hand and his eyes widen.

“Wow, what did you do to yourself?” Baekhyun takes a tweezer and starts to pull out the splinters.

“Sorry to trouble you,” I say flinching in pain as he pulls a particularly big one out of my pinky finger. “I can do this myself.”

“Your accent is heavy.” Baekhyun chuckles to himself, ignoring me. “You’re not from around here are you, what were you doing anyways?”

“Flyers, to help me find a job.” I reply hesitating slightly.

Mother was right, City boys are nosy.

“No wonder you have all of these cuts and splinters.” Baekhyun laughs blandly. “I’m fascinated, skipping my shift to talk to someone like you is definitely worth it.”

I grimace at the sarcasm in his voice. What a lie.

“Would you mind hurrying up? I have places to be.” I tell him.

“Where you headed?” He asks me curiously.

“Why should I tell a stranger?” I frown. His questions are starting to get annoying.

“Same reason why you're letting a stranger tend your wounds.” Baekhyun smirks.

“I told you, I can do it myself.” I flick his hand away and steal the tweezer.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, propping his head up to observe me. It takes me no time at all to start bandaging my wounds, after all, it was common for me to get hurt in the countryside.

“You should get back to your job. It’s not fair to Chanyeol.” I mutter as I tighten the bandage.

Baekhyun puts his hands down and straightens his posture. He looks at me in surprise and leans his head closer to me. “Chanyeol? Do you know him? Should I go get him?”

“No,” I roll my eyes at his chain of questions. “I knew him, there’s a difference.”

Baekhyun laughs awkwardly and grinned examining me.

“What.” I look away, uncomfortable with his staring.

“You want some speaking lessons? I can help you grow the Seoul dialect.” Baekhyun pauses to see my eyes flick to him in interest. “For 150,000 won a month.”

I scowl and return to my wounds while Baekhyun dies of laughter. I throw the remaining bandage into the first aid kit and shut it loudly in annoyance.

Not wanting to entertain him any longer, I stand up and head for the door. He grabs my wrist just as I was about to leave, his grip is hard and impossible for me to get out of.

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun blinks in confusion.

“It none of your-!” I say loudly as the door click open.

“Byun Baekhyun!” The old man shouts. “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun responds rapidly and runs out of the room.

“Get back to work!” He shouts out the room, then turns on me with a cheerful smiles. “Boys will always be boys.”

He motions for me to sit down again. “If you don’t mind, I would like to interview you.”

I nod and sit back down. After thirty minutes of endless questions, I learned to call him Mr. Byun and that there are fourteen other employees working here. For such a small diner, it has a huge work force. Twelve boys and three girls, including me, if I get the job. Getting paid 1,000,000 won a month. He said it wasn’t a big pay, but I'm not one to complain with my current conditions.

Okay. Job, check. Now, school.

Mr. Byun offered me take out for dinner and I gladly accepted. I return to my apartment late afternoon after finding my way around the community and to my school. Feeling exhausted, I crash after eating the delicious food from the dinner, my mind focused on school the next morning.

Things are going well.

6:00 am

My alarm goes off and I drag myself out of bed. I look at myself in the mirror and pull at my hair with an old comb. My eyes rest on the makeup set my neighbors had given me in celebration of my schooling in Seoul. I’ve never touched it, it never occurred to me why anyone would use it. I’ve seen in magazines and commercials woman plastered in makeup and plastic surgery. They must really hate themselves to put on a mask and show it to the world. A fake image people call “art.”

After taking a shower, I put on my uniform, much fancier than the ones they had in my old school. Then again, my old school got its funds from taxes.

I air dry my hair as I pack my bag, letting my long dark brown wavy hair fall loosely behind me.

After checking the time, I prepare to leave. School starts in an hour but I was always the early student.

I take the bus to school where I join many students who are wearing the same uniform as I am. I glance at them from the corner of my eyes making sure that I get off when they do. I don’t know my way around Seoul yet, so it’s best if I just follow them. They stare at me and talk amongst themselves.

I'm painfully aware that they are talking about me so I put earphones on and pretend that I’m listening to music. It’s better than playing dumb and pretending that I don’t know they are talking about me.

At school, I ask a fellow student where the main office was. He blushes and points me to the right direction while holding back a small snicker. I frown as I walk up the stairs of the main entrance.

Was my accent really that bad?

Arriving at the main office, I am passed on to the assistant principal. She smiles with her makeup plastered face and I zone out as she guides me to my classroom.

Fake.

This school is modernized and clean, a complete change from what I’m used to. The teacher walks out of the classroom with a warm and welcoming smile. A few minutes pass by as I talk with the assistant principal and teacher out in the hallway, getting on good terms with them.

“Then, I’ll leave you in Professor Lee’s hands. I’m sure you’ll do fine the rest of the school year. Your grades so far say so.” She winks, bows and leaves.

Professor Lee gestures me to walk inside the classroom before he does. I bow slightly at him and walk inside, greeted with the immediate silence of the class.

Thirty students? For just one class?

In my old school, there was only about half the size of this classroom. I gaze at the eyes set on me. All are new, except for two.

“Annyeonghaseyo.” I bow, trying my best to speak in Seoul dialect. “Kim Areum-ibnida.”

“Ouuuu.” Boys smiles and start to clap while the girls snicker behind their small, slow clapping.

“Where should I sit?” I turn to the Professor as he blinks at me.

“Uhm.” He clears his throat. “You can sit anywhere you’d like. Please welcome our new transfer student.”

Everyone claps as I look around to find an open seat. Sadly, the only open one is next to Baekhyun. I heave a sigh and walk over diligently towards him. I hold my chin high as I feel Chanyeol stare at me from the seat in front of Baekhyun. As I walk down the aisle, Chanyeol gawks at me, his mouth falling open. I thin my lips and nod at him awkwardly sit next to Baekhyun.

Chanyeol continues to stare and I stare hard at my desk, trying to ignore him.

“You’re in this class too? Wow, so we work together, and go to school together.” Baekhyun smirks. “I’d call this fate, ey?”

He nudges my shoulder and I shove his hands off of me.

“Pay attention,” I say annoyed, pointing to the teacher who is writing something on the board.

I can’t help but clench my teeth as Chanyeol continues to stare at me.

He’s doing it again, just as he did before.

Notes

AYYEEEE~

So yeah, this is just the beginning of this badass story. There's much to come but can't say right now. But we'll update in a few days, so VOTE, SUBSCRIBE, COMMENT if you like what you read so far... We love youuuu. Literally. Gonna be a great turn out. YOU KNOW ITS TRUE lol.

See you in the next chapter~!

-Alexis Thao

Thanks a bunch for checking this story out xD it's going to be the story that the two of us will be working hard on during our hiatus so stay tuned for some great stuff.
<3 Love you guys a bunch, expect great things from this story! (and no deaths, coz I will not let Alexis kill anyone off)

-ObsessedFanFics