CALL ME • MYUNG JAEHYUN - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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The next morning, the headache came back.
Not sharp. Just there. A dull ache right behind my eyes, pulsing quietly. I rubbed my temples and blinked a few times, staring at the fogged-up bathroom mirror. My glasses helped, but not completely. The world still looked a little softer around the edges—like it refused to come fully into focus.
At school, people had found new things to talk about, new faces to point at. I walked through the hallway like a shadow, and that was exactly how I wanted it.
But when I entered the classroom, I squinted again.
The board looked… faded. The white marker wasn't as bright. I tilted my head, adjusted my glasses, blinked once, then twice. It helped, sort of—but not fully.
"You okay?"
I turned. Jaehyun had slid into the seat beside me, dropping his bag with a light thud.
"Yeah," I lied, again. "Just didn't sleep well."
He narrowed his eyes. He never said it aloud, but I could tell—he noticed things. The way I rubbed at my temple. The way I blinked too often. The slight wince when the lights were too bright.
He didn't mention it.
Instead, he leaned back and said, "You better be free tomorrow."
"You're really not letting that go?"
"Not a chance," he smirked. "I even told my mom to prepare extra food. She thinks you're my girlfriend, by the way."
I choked slightly. "W-What?!"
"I didn't correct her."
"You should have!"
He shrugged. "She seemed happy. I like it when she's happy."
I looked away, heart strangely quiet but full. He had a way of saying things like they were small, even when they weren't.
In second period.
I felt throb behind my eyes. Nothing new. I blinked it away, pressing my thumb to the corner of my temple as the teacher droned on. But it didn't go away this time. It spread—slow and deliberate—down the side of my head, into my neck, like something was crawling through my veins with heat and weight.
By third period, I couldn't see clearly.
The board, the faces, even the words on my notebook—they were smudges. Like someone had taken a finger and smeared reality across a canvas. I felt nauseous. My hand trembled as I turned the page, and I could hear my pulse—loud in my ears, like a drum played out of rhythm.
I asked to go to the restroom.
Didn't wait for an answer.
I walked quickly, head down, trying not to stumble. The halls spun for a moment, and I had to grip the wall. The pounding behind my eyes was unbearable now, like something inside was trying to push its way out.
When I reached the restroom, I didn’t care if anyone else was there. I went straight to the last cubicle, slammed the door shut, locked it with shaking fingers, and slid down against the cold metal wall.
The pain exploded.
It wasn't just a headache—it was a storm. A thunderclap cracking right through the middle of my head. My vision blurred. My breaths were shallow, too fast, like my lungs forgot how to work.
I pressed both hands to my temples, trying to hold myself together—literally, physically hold my skull together because it felt like it was breaking apart.
And then I cried.
Not quietly. Not the kind of crying where you can pretend you're not. It was the kind that came from deep inside—a soundless gasp, a choking sob, a desperate breath between whimpers.
I buried my face into the sleeves of my uniform, curling into myself like a paper about to be torn.
I didn't want anyone to hear.
I didn't want anyone to find me.
I didn't want Jaehyun to see me like this.
But I was scared.
Not just of the pain.
Not just of what was happening inside my head.
But of the truth that was slowly, silently dawning—
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't going to go away.
And something was terribly wrong with me.
In that cubicle, with the cold tile beneath my legs and the fluorescent lights flickering above, I felt small. I felt like a girl who might disappear.
And for the first time… I really thought,
What if I was running out of time?
I washed my face three times before I left the restroom.
The cold water hit my skin like glass, sharp and real—pulling me back from the blur. My eyes were red, no matter how gently I tried to pat them dry. The paper towel crumpled in my hand, wet and useless, much like how I felt standing in front of the mirror.
I looked at myself.
Really looked.
My reflection blinked back at me—eyeglasses slightly crooked, strands of hair stuck to my damp cheeks, and lips pressed too tightly together. I didn’t look like someone who had it all together.
But maybe I never did.
I walked out slowly, hugging my arms. The hallway was quiet now—everyone was in class. That should’ve comforted me, but it didn’t. Silence had a way of making me hear my own fears louder.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
1 message.
From Jaehyun.
|"Where did you go? Are you okay?"
I stared at the screen, thumbs hovering.
No, I’m not.
I didn’t send that. I typed instead:
| "Restroom. Better now."
I wasn't sure why I lied.
Maybe because I didn't want him to worry.
Maybe because I was still pretending this wasn’t a big deal.
Just as I slipped the phone back in, I saw him—standing at the end of the hall, slightly breathless. Jaehyun had that usual look of half-annoyance and half-concern that he only ever saved for me.
"Yah," he said, striding toward me, "I've been looking for you since third period. You said you were better now?"
I nodded. Too quickly.
He didn't buy it.
His eyes narrowed, then dropped to my face. "You cried."
It wasn't a question.
It was a fact, and I hated that he noticed.
"I said I'm better," I whispered, brushing past him.
He walked beside me in silence. We reached the stairs, and he suddenly grabbed my arm gently, stopping me.
"Eunhye."
I didn't look at him.
"I'll walk you home after school."
"You don't have to," I muttered.
"I want to."
Something in his tone made me freeze. It wasn't demanding or playful like usual—it was quiet, steady. Like he wasn’t just offering to walk me home. He was offering to stay, in the places where I started to disappear.
I met his eyes. And for a second, I wanted to say it.
That I was scared. That I didn't know what was happening. That every time I closed my eyes, I feared I wouldn’t open them again the same.
But I didn't.
I just nodded.
And he smiled, like that was enough.
To the end rawr (almost done)
Not sharp. Just there. A dull ache right behind my eyes, pulsing quietly. I rubbed my temples and blinked a few times, staring at the fogged-up bathroom mirror. My glasses helped, but not completely. The world still looked a little softer around the edges—like it refused to come fully into focus.
At school, people had found new things to talk about, new faces to point at. I walked through the hallway like a shadow, and that was exactly how I wanted it.
But when I entered the classroom, I squinted again.
The board looked… faded. The white marker wasn't as bright. I tilted my head, adjusted my glasses, blinked once, then twice. It helped, sort of—but not fully.
"You okay?"
I turned. Jaehyun had slid into the seat beside me, dropping his bag with a light thud.
"Yeah," I lied, again. "Just didn't sleep well."
He narrowed his eyes. He never said it aloud, but I could tell—he noticed things. The way I rubbed at my temple. The way I blinked too often. The slight wince when the lights were too bright.
He didn't mention it.
Instead, he leaned back and said, "You better be free tomorrow."
"You're really not letting that go?"
"Not a chance," he smirked. "I even told my mom to prepare extra food. She thinks you're my girlfriend, by the way."
I choked slightly. "W-What?!"
"I didn't correct her."
"You should have!"
He shrugged. "She seemed happy. I like it when she's happy."
I looked away, heart strangely quiet but full. He had a way of saying things like they were small, even when they weren't.
In second period.
I felt throb behind my eyes. Nothing new. I blinked it away, pressing my thumb to the corner of my temple as the teacher droned on. But it didn't go away this time. It spread—slow and deliberate—down the side of my head, into my neck, like something was crawling through my veins with heat and weight.
By third period, I couldn't see clearly.
The board, the faces, even the words on my notebook—they were smudges. Like someone had taken a finger and smeared reality across a canvas. I felt nauseous. My hand trembled as I turned the page, and I could hear my pulse—loud in my ears, like a drum played out of rhythm.
I asked to go to the restroom.
Didn't wait for an answer.
I walked quickly, head down, trying not to stumble. The halls spun for a moment, and I had to grip the wall. The pounding behind my eyes was unbearable now, like something inside was trying to push its way out.
When I reached the restroom, I didn’t care if anyone else was there. I went straight to the last cubicle, slammed the door shut, locked it with shaking fingers, and slid down against the cold metal wall.
The pain exploded.
It wasn't just a headache—it was a storm. A thunderclap cracking right through the middle of my head. My vision blurred. My breaths were shallow, too fast, like my lungs forgot how to work.
I pressed both hands to my temples, trying to hold myself together—literally, physically hold my skull together because it felt like it was breaking apart.
And then I cried.
Not quietly. Not the kind of crying where you can pretend you're not. It was the kind that came from deep inside—a soundless gasp, a choking sob, a desperate breath between whimpers.
I buried my face into the sleeves of my uniform, curling into myself like a paper about to be torn.
I didn't want anyone to hear.
I didn't want anyone to find me.
I didn't want Jaehyun to see me like this.
But I was scared.
Not just of the pain.
Not just of what was happening inside my head.
But of the truth that was slowly, silently dawning—
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't going to go away.
And something was terribly wrong with me.
In that cubicle, with the cold tile beneath my legs and the fluorescent lights flickering above, I felt small. I felt like a girl who might disappear.
And for the first time… I really thought,
What if I was running out of time?
I washed my face three times before I left the restroom.
The cold water hit my skin like glass, sharp and real—pulling me back from the blur. My eyes were red, no matter how gently I tried to pat them dry. The paper towel crumpled in my hand, wet and useless, much like how I felt standing in front of the mirror.
I looked at myself.
Really looked.
My reflection blinked back at me—eyeglasses slightly crooked, strands of hair stuck to my damp cheeks, and lips pressed too tightly together. I didn’t look like someone who had it all together.
But maybe I never did.
I walked out slowly, hugging my arms. The hallway was quiet now—everyone was in class. That should’ve comforted me, but it didn’t. Silence had a way of making me hear my own fears louder.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
1 message.
From Jaehyun.
|"Where did you go? Are you okay?"
I stared at the screen, thumbs hovering.
No, I’m not.
I didn’t send that. I typed instead:
| "Restroom. Better now."
I wasn't sure why I lied.
Maybe because I didn't want him to worry.
Maybe because I was still pretending this wasn’t a big deal.
Just as I slipped the phone back in, I saw him—standing at the end of the hall, slightly breathless. Jaehyun had that usual look of half-annoyance and half-concern that he only ever saved for me.
"Yah," he said, striding toward me, "I've been looking for you since third period. You said you were better now?"
I nodded. Too quickly.
He didn't buy it.
His eyes narrowed, then dropped to my face. "You cried."
It wasn't a question.
It was a fact, and I hated that he noticed.
"I said I'm better," I whispered, brushing past him.
He walked beside me in silence. We reached the stairs, and he suddenly grabbed my arm gently, stopping me.
"Eunhye."
I didn't look at him.
"I'll walk you home after school."
"You don't have to," I muttered.
"I want to."
Something in his tone made me freeze. It wasn't demanding or playful like usual—it was quiet, steady. Like he wasn’t just offering to walk me home. He was offering to stay, in the places where I started to disappear.
I met his eyes. And for a second, I wanted to say it.
That I was scared. That I didn't know what was happening. That every time I closed my eyes, I feared I wouldn’t open them again the same.
But I didn't.
I just nodded.
And he smiled, like that was enough.
To the end rawr (almost done)
End of CALL ME • MYUNG JAEHYUN Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to CALL ME • MYUNG JAEHYUN book page.