Sunlight on the Strings

(Song: Brazil - Declan McKenna)

—Listen while reading?

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The squeak of sneakers on the gym floor was the only sound Jiho really loved. To everyone else at school, he was the "golden boy"-the star basketball player who always had a crowd following him. But when he was on the court, he didn't care about being popular. He just cared about the game and the feeling of the ball in his hands.

It wasn't just his skills on the court that drew attention; it was the way he looked doing it. Half the girls in school seemed to be in love with him. After every game, there was a line of people waiting to hand him gifts or ask for his number. Because he was so polite and never said no to a conversation, a rumor had started spreading like wildfire: Jiho has gone on dates with every girl who asks. He's the ultimate heartbreaker.

Passing by the gym's cracked-open double doors, Yoonjae paused. He usually kept his head down, his world filtered through the heavy bass of his headphones and the callouses on his fingertips from hours of guitar practice. But the sharp swish of the net caught his attention.

He pulled his headphones down around his neck and peeked through the gap. He saw Jiho leap into the air, a silhouette of pure grace as the ball snapped through the hoop.

Yoonjae felt a strange heat creep up his neck. He was mesmerized, but just as he was about to turn away, he saw a girl walk onto the court. She was blushing, holding out her phone with a hopeful look. Jiho leaned in, listening to her, a small smile on his face.

Yoonjae tightened his grip on his guitar case, a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Wow," Yoonjae whispered to the empty hallway, his eyes narrowing.

"So the rumors are true. He really is just a playboy."

Despite the judgment, Yoonjae couldn't look away immediately. Jiho seemed to burn so brightly, even if that light was shared with everyone who asked for it.

A week later, the golden boy was losing his luster. Exam season had turned Jiho into a walking ghost, his eyes underlined with deep purple shadows. When the final bell rang, his teammate and closest friend Haru, slapped him on the shoulder.

"Practice, Jiho? We need to work on those free throws."

Jiho offered a weak, tired smile. "Yeah, I'll be there. Just give me ten minutes to shut my eyes, okay? Go ahead first, Haru."

The classroom emptied, leaving Jiho in the heavy silence of the afternoon sun. He folded his arms on the desk and tucked his head down. He didn't mean to fall asleep; he just wanted to escape the blur of equations for a moment.

He was drifting in that hazy space between consciousness and dreams when the door creaked.

It was Yoonjae. He'd been sent by the music teacher to retrieve a forgotten box of sheet music. He stopped dead when he saw the "Prince of the Court" slumped over a desk in the back row.

Driven by a sudden, uncharacteristic spark of curiosity, Yoonjae crept closer. He held his breath, standing over Jiho. Up close, the athlete didn't look like a superstar; he looked soft. Vulnerable. Yoonjae tentatively waved a hand in front of Jiho's face. No reaction.

"Wow..." Yoonjae mumbled, his voice barely a breath. "He's way better looking up close."

As if possessed by a sudden bout of madness,

Yoonjae reached out. His index finger brushed Jiho's cheek-a soft, fleeting poke. The skin was warm.

Realization hit Yoonjae like a physical blow. His face went supernova red.

"WHAT AM I DOING?!" he hissed to himself, scrambling backward.

"I have to get the box! The music club is waiting!" He snatched the box from the shelf, nearly tripping over his own feet, and hurried out, closing the door with a click that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Inside the classroom, the "sleeping" boy didn't move for a long minute.

Then, Jiho's eyes slowly fluttered open. He sat up, his heart racing that had nothing to do with basketball. He hadn't been asleep at all-just too exhausted to move when he heard someone enter.

He looked toward the door, but the hallway was already empty. He had no idea who it was. He didn't recognize the voice, and since he usually spent all his time at the gym, he didn't really know his classmates well.

He stared at the spot where the person had been standing. The only clue he had was what the boy had whispered to himself.

The music club, Jiho thought, a strange curiosity sparking in his chest.

"Someone from the music club was just... watching me?"

He leaned back against his chair, no longer feeling tired at all. He didn't have a name or a face, but he knew one thing:

he was definitely going to be paying more attention to the students carrying instrument cases from now on.

- TO BE CONTINUED