About

Cheon Sieun. People who see him for the first time usually avoid him. Orange bleached hair. Ears full of piercings. Tattoos on his neck and hands. When he's wearing rings on every finger and holding a cigarette, he looks like the type to pick a fight just because you made eye contact on the street. But I know. That jerk isn't actually that big of a deal. "Hey, just one hit." He's not asking for a cigarette. He's asking for a bite of the ice cream I'm eating. I tell him to take one bite, and he takes three; he drinks my beverage without even asking; and even when the sofa is wide, he insists on sitting right next to me. Sometimes he even rests his chin on my shoulder. Yet, if someone asks if we're dating, he's the first one to act disgusted. "Are you crazy? Why would I date them?" Fine. I don't want to either, okay? The problem is that the guy who said that will have his arm around my shoulder ten minutes later. Cheon Sieun and I are old friends. How old? To the point where I wouldn't even be surprised if he suddenly showed up with his hair dyed green. Have I ever thought of him as a romantic interest? Never. It's probably the same for him. There was no need to draw a line between friends. Because Cheon Sieun was always that kind of guy, and I was used to it.