Allegro

I woke up the next morning, my face smushed into my pillow, still in last night’s clothes, with my legs dangling half off the bed. The exhaustion and stress from the club had completely wiped me out — I barely remembered making it to my room.

Groaning, I pushed myself up, only to be greeted by a pounding headache and the sight of my tangled hair resembling a bird’s nest in the mirror. A shower was my only solution. After an hour and a half of meticulous hair and skin care, I finally felt somewhat human again.

As I finished tying my damp hair into a loose bun, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Minho. Be there in 30 to pick you up. Hang at my dorm today? I quickly typed back, insisting I could just walk myself there, but he was adamant. Nope. Gentlemanly duties.

Rolling my eyes, I threw on a green quarter-zip and white sweat-shorts. Keeping it simple, I removed the false lashes I’d forgotten to take off last night, applied mascara, lip gloss, and a star-shaped pimple patch for the annoying bump on my cheek, then packed a small white bag with essentials.

By the time I made my way to the common room to wait for him, my phone had distracted me as I leaned against a wall. I barely noticed someone walking up until a pair of trainers appeared just below my screen.

“Hey, you. You look surprised to see me,” Will greeted, his familiar grin stretching wide.

I lowered my phone, blinking up at him. “I was just expecting someone else, that’s all.”

“Who, your boyfriend?” he teased, his tone playful but knowing. “Actually, I was just walking with him. Turns out, arrogance attracts arrogance — we get on extremely well.”

I tilted my head, confused but not entirely surprised. Minho and Will were similar in some ways. What I was confused about, however, was my fake boyfriend’s current location. “Wait, if you were just with him, where is he?”

Will shrugged, gesturing toward the door. “He said something about needing to grab Lotte’s. No idea what that means.”

A small smile crept onto my face at the mention of Lotte’s. Even though we weren’t actually dating, it was thoughtful of Minho to do a small gesture like this for me. It was simply a part of his charm, and part of the reason why my heart fluttered around him.

Right on cue, the door opened, and there he was, stepping inside with a small bag in hand. His expression was noticeably calmer than usual, even sparing Will a nod of acknowledgment before making his way to me.

“I got your favorite, Mich,” he said, smiling as he held up the bag.

I straightened from my spot on the wall, taking it from him with a grin creeping onto my face. “Thanks, Min. That’s really sweet.”

I felt Will watching us closely, like he was waiting for something more. Expecting. Minho’s jaw tensed, and his gaze shifted between me and Will, clearly uncomfortable. Realizing what Will was likely thinking, I acted on impulse, leaning up to press a quick kiss to Minho’s cheek.

Minho froze for a second before clearing his throat and recovering with a small smile. “We’ll be going now. See you around,” he said, tugging my arm as he led me out.

We walked in silence for a bit, my hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket along with his. I stared down at my Converse, unable to shake the awkwardness that lingered. I spared him a small glance. “Hey,” I finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’m sorry if that was… too much. I just panicked.”

Minho shrugged, his tone casual, though I could still feel the tension in his movements. “It’s fine. We agreed physical affection would make this more believable, right?”

“Yeah, but…” My voice faltered. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

He glanced down at me, curious. “What about it, love?”

“Do you really think kissing is a good idea?” The words came out faster than I intended, and I avoided his gaze. “I mean, what if it looks fake? People might notice, especially since there’s no…”

“Chemistry?” he finished, raising an eyebrow.

Heat crept into my cheeks. “Exactly. What if it’s obvious how artificial it is?”

Minho stopped walking, turning to face me fully. He took both of my hands in his, his expression softening. “Chemistry isn’t necessary for a convincing kiss, Michelle.”

I looked away, my face burning. “Still, I’d rather not risk it.”

“Let’s just get it over with now,” he said with a sigh, his tone light but firm. “The first one’s always the hardest. After that, it’ll feel natural.”

My eyes widened as my heart stuttered. Kissing Minho wasn’t on my expected agenda today — especially not like this. But before I could protest, his hand cupped my cheek, and he leaned in. His lips brushed mine, soft and cautious at first. My eyes shut on instinct, and I felt his thumb tracing slow circles against my skin. The initial stiffness faded, and I relaxed into it despite myself, my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

When he pulled away, his lips curved into a small, triumphant smile. “See? Not so bad, Mischa.”

“Not so bad,” I muttered under my breath, avoiding his eyes as we resumed walking.

As we relaxed into his couch, his arm draped lazily around me as a movie played in the background — Anchorman. Q was fully invested, laughing at something absurd, but my mind was stuck replaying the kiss over and over. It had been one I’d wanted to share with the boy for the better part of the past three years we’d shared at KISS.

A buzz from my phone jolted me out of my thoughts. I unlocked it, only to groan as I saw the notification.

“What’s up?” Minho asked, glancing down at me.

I sighed, shutting off the screen. “We’ve been tagged in a photo. From earlier.”

He snorted lightly, but his expression was a bit stiff and he said nothing, his arm tightening slightly around my shoulders. I leaned back against him with a sigh, trying to rationalize the situation. Maybe it was better this way — the photo being out there would give our story more credibility. Still, the pit in my stomach wouldn’t ease.

As I scrolled through my phone, the sound of hurried footsteps caught my attention. Kitty stormed into the dormitory, a little out of breath, and stopped squarely in front of the television, blocking our view. Her eyes darted between me and Minho before settling on Q.

“I need to talk to you. Now,” she demanded, staring solely at Q.

I glanced at the few pieces of paper she was clutching, but I didn’t give it much thought. Probably just another episode of Kitty’s usual drama. Despite myself, I felt an edge of irritation creep in, especially when Minho straightened beside me, his posture noticeably more attentive at the sight of her.

Q cast us an apologetic look as Kitty grabbed his arm and led him into his room, shutting the door behind them.

Minho’s gaze lingered on the closed door, his brow furrowing. “Did she look upset to you?” he murmured, more to himself than to me.

I shrugged, the words spilling out flatter than I intended. “I don’t really care.”

His head snapped toward me, his expression unreadable. I wasn’t sure why Kitty’s sudden appearance had soured my mood so much, but it felt like my overthinking from earlier had snowballed into something deeper.

Minho didn’t say anything at first, though I caught him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he let out a low huff and nudged my arm. “You wanna get out of here?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Where would we go?”

He offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe grab you something to eat? Besides,” he added with a slightly forced chuckle, “how will Kitty think I’m over her if I’m still hanging around here?”

The mention of Kitty stung more than I wanted to admit. Still, I gathered my things and followed him out the door, though my chest felt heavier than it should’ve. He was right — perhaps it was the hangriness that had set me off.

This time, he didn’t take my hand, to my minor disappointment. We walked in silence, both of us with our hands shoved deep into the pockets of our jackets. The crisp air bit at my cheeks as we made our way across campus, finally stopping at a small café on the far edge.

Despite the bustling environment filled with teenagers chatting away and studying on their laptops, I felt numbed to my surroundings. Minho seemed relaxed, even content as he scanned the menu, but I couldn’t shake the hopelessness gnawing at me, a feeling that had only been growing as of late. I shook my head lightly and forced myself back to the present.

. . .

School the next week was less than ideal. Between keeping up the charade with Minho and the constant outings, I was falling behind in my classes. It hadn’t even been a full month into the semester, but I was already drowning. Normally, I was a solid student — advanced courses, consistently ranking among the top ten girls in my year. But this term? A complete disaster.

When Professor Finnerty handed me back my chemistry test with an apologetic smile, the bold C- at the top of the page felt like a slap. Alex was known for his leniency, so I had no one to blame but myself. The same story was repeated in psychology, literature, and math. My grades were sliding, and while Minho had definitely noticed, he stayed silent every time it came up, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The one class where I excelled was Japanese, but that wasn’t saying much. I had years of practice in the language, making failure nearly impossible. Ironically, Will had been one of the few bright spots in the mess. He and I were growing closer, and while I did my best to ignore any hints of ulterior motives, he seemed to accept that my feelings for him were purely platonic.

Not that I didn’t occasionally wonder what it would be like if things were different. My fake relationship with Minho had lost its spark, replaced with a growing ache. Watching him try harder than ever to get closer to Kitty was crushing. It felt like the distance between us was widening — not that he was ever truly mine to lose.

Will, on the other hand, made an effort to keep up with me. He noticed the dark circles under my eyes and the quiet gloom that had settled over me. When he found out about my grades, he was visibly annoyed.

“I mean, what’s that boyfriend of yours even doing to help?” he muttered one day in Japanese class, his voice low as Professor Reiko droned on about kanji’s Chinese origins, a topic I’d previously studied in my early days of Japanese. “Does he even know?”

I nodded absently, my eyes fixed on the front board. “He knows. He just doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Probably feels guilty. Bastard,” he mumbled, barely audible.

I bit the inside of my cheek, considering the idea for the first time. Guilt could explain Minho’s recent odd behavior. “Maybe. But it’s my fault. I should be handling this better, be more responsible or whatever.”

“Hey,” Will interrupted, his hand landing gently on my shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re just going through a rough patch. It’s not your fault — it happens to the best of us.”

I appreciated his kindness, but deep down, I knew the toll this fake relationship was taking on me. Watching Minho’s every attempt to get closer to Kitty wasn’t just exhausting; it was painful. And it was entirely my own doing. This was the plan from the start, wasn’t it? Minho didn’t know how attached I’d become, how much it hurt to keep up the facade. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t like he knew my feelings for him, and he never would.

“Huang? Hello?” Will waved a hand in front of my face.

I blinked, snapping back to the present. “Sorry, spaced out.”

“Couldn’t tell,” he said with mock sarcasm, poking my arm. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I couldn’t exactly explain the weight pressing down on me. I couldn’t tell anyone the truth, and it was eating away at me to lie to everyone I cared about. My own mother believed we were together after seeing the fancams of us on social media. I couldn’t tell Will, and I certainly couldn’t express myself to Minho. What would I even say to the boy? Sorry, I’m in love with you and pretending to be your girlfriend is breaking my heart. That would go over well. To Will, I forced a vague answer.

“I’ve just been… questioning my relationship,” I admitted softly. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I did my best to work lightly around the truth.

Will’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. But he kept his tone light. “You know you can talk to me, Michelle. Seriously, I’m here for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Ricci. You’re a real expert on relationships.”

He scoffed, undeterred. “Wow, Huang. Way to boost my confidence.”

His humor, as always, lightened the mood just enough. By the time Sunday rolled around, I had worked up the courage to finally talk to Minho. After a long night of clubbing, he walked me to my door like usual. But instead of saying goodbye, I invited him in. He blinked, surprised. Normally, I’d leave him at the door.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed, I motioned for him to join me. He hesitated before sitting at the edge, a cautious distance between us. “What’s this about, Michelle?” he asked, his tone careful.

I stared down at my lap, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. “This relationship,” I started slowly. “I’m happy to help you, but I think it’s starting to take a toll on me.”

His body tensed. “What do you mean?”

“My grades are slipping. I’m not sleeping well. I don’t have enough time to study.” The words spilled out in a shaky rush.

Minho shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “I… I didn’t realize it was this bad. I could help you study if you want. Or maybe we cut back on how much time we spend in public. You’re my best friend, Mich. I don’t want to make things worse for you,especially when it’s you doing me the favor.”

I forced a tight smile, even as my heart sank. “More time for you to see Kitty, then. Just like you wanted.”

Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating. Minho seemed to be at a loss for words. Finally, he nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Then that’s that,” I murmured, my chest aching.

He stood abruptly, not meeting my eyes as he left the room swiftly without another word.