“Hey Teddy.” I approached him by the window where he appeared to be waving to
someone outside. Whatever. Teddy doesn’t really have any friends. Well, he does,
but he’s one of those guys that hangs with other guys and soon there’s a group
of guys and they meet up at the bar to meet girls but none of them really know
the other guys there; they just know that they roll with them. … guys are
complicated. “Yesterday, some blogger started attacking me and saying I was
being too judgemental on our new boarder—”

“Sh.it, are you kidding?” He hissed at me. He cast a sharp glance over to the
door and—footsteps, there were footsteps coming up the porch—“Jiyeon asked some
child molester, rapist, contortionist, ventriloquist, backend plastic surgeon or
reject idol star to be our new boarder?” See? It’s universal. “God, does Yonsei
take everyone who fu.cking applies?”Well.—the doorbell rang. I let out a mild
shriek and Teddy shoved me in the arm. He’s such an abuser.

He was bipolar and creepy. He went from being happy-for-a-bipolar-person to
being sad-for-a-bipolar-person—because you know, when you're bipolar, neither
alternative is really… an alternative. To us, it's like hey, what's up with that
guy? He might just be happy, but he sounds like an as.shole. He might just be
sad, but he sounds like an as.shole. He might just be an as.shole. You never
know.