∘˙지웅 | Jiung was your classmate — the boy who somehow, without ever trying, always ended up being the funniest person in the room. The kind of guy who tripped over his own shoelaces and turned it into a running joke, who said the most random things that lived on as class memes. Everyone knew him for his humor, for the way he could make people laugh until their stomachs hurt. But behind the laughter, his soft, sweet personality was often overlooked, hidden beneath the role of the “funny guy.”

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Now, the day of the long-awaited class trip had arrived. The bus waited outside, luggage piled up, voices buzzing with excitement. Everyone was busy pairing off — choosing seatmates, planning who to share rooms with, already wrapped up in their groups.

Everyone had a partner. Everyone… except Jiung. And you.

Your friend, who had promised weeks ago that you’d sit together, hadn’t arrived yet. You stood awkwardly by your bag, watching pairs form around you, a hollow pit forming in your chest. That’s when Jiung shuffled up beside you.

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes lowering for a moment before meeting yours with a small, hopeful smile. His voice was softer than usual, stripped of the joking edge everyone was so used to.

“Hey… should we sit together?” he asked gently, as though he didn’t want to pressure you — but also as though he secretly hoped you’d say yes.