It happens to everyone–a small mark coloured in a random colour on a random part of your body.

Obviously your soulmate would have the same mark, but in a random colour on a random part of their body.

Your mark is a pink star.

Yes, it’s a bit of a basic shape, but you’re okay with it.

It sits on your shoulder, it’s hue making it almost impossible to see from far away.

Your parents had the moon as their mark, their crescents in silver and gold. They tell you that they were lucky, being born in the same hometown.

They told you that some people could spend ages looking across countries just to find their soulmates, the unlucky ones usually never being able to find theirs.

You were never really interested in romance.

Even when your mark first appeared, you pretty much ignored it.

You assumed your soulmate was just an average guy, maybe someone who you’d meet when you were in your 20’s or 30’s.

The only thing you really cared for was your studies.

Now, your hometown was big, but it wasn’t the best.

You recall more than enough days where your school made everyone volunteer for the homeless shelter, full with people desperate to find warmth.

You were mainly in the kitchens, cooking up food for them just so that none of them would go hungry.

You resented the government for failing them, seeing so many faces just freezing out in the open.

Your parents were hard workers, your dad working at an oil factory while your mother worked at a pharmacy.

Your parents wanted you to succeed, so they pushed you to dedicate yourself to your studies

They never forced you, but money was always tight and inflation was getting worse, so it felt like you were.

So you studied all throughout middle school and got into one of the best Highschool’s in the country–Chadwick International.

Even though you weren’t the best at everything, your scores were just sufficient that the school considered you good enough to accept.

Your parents celebrated your success, telling you that you would do great things.

But it all came crashing down when you had to move.

Your hometown was too far from the school, so commuting back and forth would take hours.

Your parents put you in a small apartment close to the school, which would make it way easier.

Even though it was slightly breaking the law, the landlord was an old lady who said that she would cover for you if the police ever called.

Although she only did all that when you cried to her about it.

So there you were, going to one of the best schools in the country with a less than ideal living situation, but it was okay. You were going to be okay.

Although you wished that was the end of it.

“76 percent. Just barely passed.” Miss Kang mumbles, handing you your paper back.

Although it was just a mock exam, the shame and embarrassment that came from those words made you feel uneasy.

Your seat mate, Yeo-rim sits next to you with a 65 percent, cringing at her failing score.

“At least you passed.” She said, checking through the sheet to see her mistakes and feedback the teacher wrote. 

The red numbers stare at you, the circle outlining it making you feel worse as you check on what Miss Kang had wrote.

‘Wrong characters’

‘This sentence doesn’t make sense’

‘Translation wrong’

You sighed. The feedback was always vague, filled with one worded questions or phrases that made you annoyed at their lack of effort.

Although you felt bad, knowing that they marked the work all in their own time, the same could literally be said for you.

You had spent four days on that essay, and a measly 76 percent for all that work made you feel horrible.

You walked back to the apartment, gloomy and exhausted. 

The city wasn’t exactly awake at this time, but for some reason, every time you looked up you saw couples all around you with their hands interlocked.

Ah that’s right. It was Valentine’s Day.

You manoeuvre through the pairs, just barely dodging a couple that was making out in the middle of the pathway.

You see their mark on the boys neck and the girls wrist–a feather.

Seeing that immediately makes you aware of your mark, the spot on your shoulder suddenly tingling.

You rub your shoulder out of habit, feeling annoyed all of a sudden.

When you were young, you just didn’t get why people wanted to find their soulmates so fast.

Now, you just weren’t sure why you hated the reminder of it.

Maybe it’s because you hated the idea that there was a possibility of having to love someone so much, and letting them into your heart without knowing whether they loved you just as much.

Sure, soulmates were romantic, but what if it all went wrong?

You’d seen the stories on TV, and you knew that soulmates didn’t always work out.

Sometimes there was even a rare case where people would leave their soulmates because they couldn’t find love with them.

What if you couldn’t find someone to love?

You shake your head and unlock the door to the apartment, your jangling keys echoing throughout the empty hallway. 

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Either you focused on your soulmate mark, or you focused on studying so you didn’t get kicked out of Chadwick.

You push into the small room, the faint smell of a cheap air freshener all around the place.

You dump your exam papers on your desk, ordering it from subject to subject.

Your best subject was History, with a 91.

Your worst was absolutely English with that 76.

You sighed.

Now I’ll have to pull another all nighter.

It took about six hours to study for all the subjects.

You had crammed so much English and History into your head you were sure you could recite every single passage from the notebooks. Maths gave you some trouble, but after a few tutorials on YouTube you remembered most things.

You come to school with a zombie-like appearance, Yeo-rim almost yelping as you turn to look at her.

“Oh! Uhm, is that a new…makeup look?” She gestured to your eyebags, making you cringe.

“No, I just stayed up studying.” You croaked.

“Right…”

The school day ends in a breeze, although maybe that’s just because you napped the entire time.

Yeo-rim invited you over to her home, saying that she wanted to study.

Although you were completely sick of studying, that 76 percent and all those 20 minute naps served as a reminder as to why you had to still do it.

Her house smelled of a sweet rose perfume and fried chicken.

An odd combination but nonetheless smelled good.

Her parents were both cooking something up, you having smelled it when you greeted them.

Yeo-rim told you that their soulmate marks were a circle, outlined in purple and orange. You eyed it as you walked away, both of theirs on the backs of their legs.

You weren’t sure why you were so conscious about soulmate marks now.

You slapped your face lightly to get those thoughts away, not wanting to think about them any longer.

She had dragged you to her room, setting all of her stuff on the coffee table before going downstairs and getting ‘study snacks’.

Her room was nice–light pink walls, framed photos from when she was seven, and medals she won from middle school.

It all served as memories for her, but a reminder for you that you left all of that behind the minute you got into the school.

You sighed, looking back down at the papers on the desk.

Both you and her needed immense help in English, so you hoped that nothing would distract her.

Although you jinxed it immediately.

To say she was unfocused would be like saying the sky was blue.

The minute she turned the TV on in her room, you knew you were absolutely done for. She was playing some obnoxiously loud k-pop performance, the lights from the shows flashing around the room constantly.

You tried to tune it out, although it was kind of hard to do when Yeo-rim would scream ‘That’s my man!’ every two seconds.

She even had lightsticks for each different group that came up, doing a fanchant and sometimes bringing out her albums to show them off to you.

You were never someone who was into k-pop.

The music was good, but you never really listened to music in general, even when you were studying.

But you tried to be supportive, even listening in when she would tell you about a group she particularly liked.

“Oh! This is that rookie group!”

She points to the screen, making you look up from your work.

The process was a bit slower than you liked, but at least you were getting a bit of rest from constantly staring at words.

“They debuted in August under the same company as BigHit.” She said, forking into a pear slice. “Y’know the youngest are the same age as us?”

“Seriously? Why does the industry debut so many children?”

She shrugged, staring at the screen as the first few beats of the group's song started playing.

For some reason, you found yourself painfully interested in their performance.

They were just rookies, but they were really good.

Unlike a few performances, they didn’t rely on having a million backup dancers, and just used their stage presence to fill up anything that seemed missing.

They were good, and didn’t seem like some rookie group at all.

You looked at the little popup on the top left–‘CORTIS’.

Cool name.

The members looked interesting too, all with unique features that made them easy to recognise.

“Uh, hold on I memorised their names–that one’s James!” She points to a guy with sharp features, doing exaggerated expressions that somehow looked good on him, and dance moves that looked sharp even to the untrained eye. “He’s the oldest, and he’s like everybody’s bias.”

She then points to another pair. “These two are Juhoon and Martin. They’re both born in ‘08. Martin’s the leader, I think.”

Then, she drags her pointer finger to two boys all the way on the other side, the camera angles suddenly changing as it showed the two.

“They’re the ones that are our age. That one’s Keonho,” she points to the one on the right. “And that one’s Seonghyeon.”

The minute your eyes landed on him, your breath hitched.

He was singing beautifully, his voice echoing through the venue. You noticed him a bit earlier, when they were all dancing together but for some reason your gaze kept moving to him at the back.

Now that the camera was fully focused on him, in your opinion, Seonghyeon was a really good looking guy. You can’t recall all the times your eyes traced the edges of his face and how your gaze always drifted towards him even when it wasn’t his part.

(Although you would never admit that to Yeo-rim.)

He looked like he was made to be on stage–the way he ran his fingers through his hair, the way he moved around the place like he completely owned it. You knew from the fans screaming his name that he was probably popular too.

He looked confident.

He looked exhilarated to be on that stage, and you were sure that if you were a fan of his group, you’d be screaming his name the loudest.

Their performance went on for about 14 minutes, the sweat on each of the members that accumulated during that time complete proof as to their hard work,

Then, just about as their last song was about to end, Seonghyeon’s 

sleeve suddenly ripped as he was dancing.

The sleeve had ripped open to reveal his whole left bicep. 

Yeo-rim had let out a small gasp-mixed-with-a-laugh as it happened, shoving another apple slice into her mouth.

His eyes had widened a fraction of an inch before he refocused, rapping his lines as he moved formation.

You weren’t paying much attention to it, but when you looked over, something immediately caught your eye. 

Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe it was just a pixel problem, but just as the camera zoomed in on them one last time, you swear you spotted something grey right in his inner bicep.

Its shape was too familiar for it not to catch your eye.

A grey star.

It was the exact same size and shape, the colours so obviously different yet so obviously matched in everything else.

Your heart dropped to your stomach immediately.

It…can’t be true.

It was probably just something up with her TV.

“Is the video edited?” You immediately gulped after asking, still staring straight at the mark.

“No, it’s live.”

Fuck.

You can’t be soulmates with a fucking k-pop idol.

It just wouldn’t work. It couldn’t.

A k-pop idol?

You wanted to curse whatever higher being was out there, laughing at your demise. A k-pop idol was one of the top-ten worst people you could’ve gotten as a soulmate.

It wasn’t that they were horrible people, but they were more on watch than a criminal.

The media was constantly on them, and stalkers were constantly everywhere.

That was one of the main reasons why idols hid their marks, and seeing Seonghyeon’s mark in broad daylight made you feel an immense amount of dread you knew you could never get rid of.

Suddenly, your shoulder felt like it was on fire.

You rubbed the spot harshly, suddenly wishing it would just disappear. You never harboured any negative feelings for it, but at this very moment, you harboured so much hate for it that you would honestly volunteer to just burn it off.

“Hey, Yeo-rim?”

“Yeah?”

You stand right next to Keonho’s desk, the blanket that Martin had given him now covering his whole body.

“I literally am and you don’t care.” He groans, sniffing as he reaches for another tissue.

You sigh, taking the cold banana milk you were saving for later out of your pocket and pressing it against his forehead.

“It’s still cold, so just keep this pressed against you.”

He looks up immediately and snatches it out of your hand, pressing the bottle around various places on his face. He looks relieved with each press, even going so far as to roll it’s coldest surface around his forehead,

“How did you catch a fever in summer anyway?”

He shrugs, now pressing it against the back of his neck.

“I kept forgetting to dry my hair these last couple of nights, so maybe that’s the reason.” He says before blowing his nose very loudly into a new tissue.

You hum in acknowledgment before patting his head, making a quick effort to rub his hair harshly.

“Just try to survive till the end of the day, m’kay? If your parents or sister aren’t home, just text me and I’ll help you.”

Before he can say anything, you walk away, leaving him to whatever a sick person could do.

Later that afternoon, he sends you a quick text that was clearly typed with one hand.

Today 3:48 pm

Keo

| cme ober plase

| evryone s gne

You sigh, already grabbing your hoodie.

By the time you arrived at his place, it was already four.

You had stopped by a convenience store close to his place, purchasing a few cough drop packets and medicine.

You knock on his door roughly, pressing your ear against it if he says anything.

Soon enough, you hear very light footsteps on the other side. The door opens slowly, creaking loudly as Keonho finally appears.

You walk in immediately, taking off your shoes and closing the door.

He looked even worse–his hair looked way more messed up, like more than half of his back hairs were standing straight up.

He had a tissue shoved up his nose, and he was still wearing his school uniform, just now very wrinkled.

“Hi.” He awkwardly says.

You shake your head before dragging him over to the couch and forcing him to lay down.

“Have you measured your temperature yet?”

You ask, loosening his tie so that he could breathe better. He didn’t mind it at all, lying down while shaking his head.

“I was too tired to measure it.” He mumbled.

You lightly smack his shoulder before walking over to his room, finding the ear thermometer right on his desk.

As soon as you walk back into the living room with it, Keonho is already on the ground, his feet somehow the only limbs left on the couch. You’re a little surprised that you didn’t hear anything while you were in his room but shake it off and help the whinging boy.

You groan as you lift him up with all your might, grabbing him like he was some teddy bear.

As soon as he was back into place, you shove the ear thermometer into his ear, pressing the button as it read his temperature.

“40.4? Geez Keonho, dry your fucking hair.”

He coughs and groans slightly in response, not bothering to move at all.

You put him back into a laying down position, grabbing pillows and elevating his head. Just as you were about to leave his side, he grabs your hoodie sleeve, dragging you right back.

He calls out your name weakly, making you crouch so that you were face to face with him.

“I think…I’m going to die.”

You press your lips into a thin line before patting his head, just deciding to let him be.

He calls out your name again before softly whining, and then coughing all over again.

When Keonho was sick as a child, you remember that his mother would cook him a chicken noodle soup, something that later became almost mandatory for every fever he got, even as a 16 year old.

You got all the ingredients ready and lit up the stove, grateful that his mother had told you the recipe once and you had never forgotten.

You were done after about 20 minutes, the smell of the soup’s spices overpowering everything else in the kitchen.

You walked back into the living room, finding Keonho in the exact same place you left him, except this time more crumpled tissues were left on the table.

He hadn’t moved at all, but his uneven breathing told you that he was still awake.

“Keonho,” you tapped his shoulder, earning you a small whine. “I made you soup.”

He opens his eyes slightly at that before sniffing the fumes of the soup. You help him sit up, his groans becoming louder each inch he moves.

“My body feels like it’s failing.” He cried out, his posture slumped over as he rubbed his temples.

“Isn’t there a thing where true love’s kiss ends a sickness?”

You look over at him, his eyes squinting as he looks at the bowl in front of him.

“You should do that.”

You felt a small heat crawling up your neck, but you pushed it down immediately. Is he serious? No, he can’t be. Maybe he’s just high as hell on cough syrup. 

You just shook your head at his antics, putting on an unimpressed expression.

“Right, because that’s totally 100% true.”

Just as you were about to leave him be and let him eat, he stops you once again.

“You can’t expect me to lift the spoon up in this condition.”

You almost roll your eyes but refrain from doing so. “Keonho, you’re just sick. You’re acting like both your hands are suddenly unusable.”

“But they are! They feel like jelly!”

After much arguing, you sit in front of Keonho as he lays down on the couch again, the spoon now held up by you.

Although this would usually be something seen as romantic, something like feeding your lover food and just taking care of them, you felt anything but. Every five seconds he just seemed to have another complaint. You wished his sister were here instead of you. 

It felt like a parent having to feed their own child soup.

“You’re holding the spoon too low.”

“You’re holding it too high now.”

“It’s too hot!”

You had to physically stop yourself from wanting to throw the whole bowl on him until he fully finished it.

You washed the dishes quickly before grabbing a blanket from his room, throwing it over him and even giving him an old plushie he still had to make it more comfortable.

You had asked him if you just wanted to be in his room, but he whined again, saying that it would be too cold.

You had unpacked the medicine and cough drops for him, pushing a drop into his mouth before checking the time.

6:03 pm.

“Keonho, I’ll be leaving now.”

“No, don’t leave.” He wailed, reaching his arms out in your direction.

“It’s already six, plus your parents will be home soon.”

You turn, already slipping your shoes on before he calls out your name once more, making you peek into the living room.

He lifts his head up, his eyes slightly open as you tie your shoes.

“Take care.” He says softly, almost like a two year old saying bye to their babysitter.

You almost chuckle at that.

He holds the key in his hand, his eyes scanning you.

He recognised you–you were his sister's friend from school. Before he became a trainee, he thought you were pretty (but he would never admit that to his sister) and was always too shy to talk to you.

You sit in one of his old sleeping shirts, sitting on the kitchen counter with your phone. Beside you is an açai bowl, sprinkled with banana slices and strawberries.

His favourite combo.

You give him a smile before going back to scrolling.

Before he can ask questions, his sister walks over, drying her hair with an old towel before looking up, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

“Oh, you’re home.”

He nods, closing the door behind him and taking off his shoes. He knows that he and his sister aren’t the closest, but seeing as how rarely he got to her, he realised in the months and days apart how much he actually missed her.

Although he would never say that.

She gives him a quick side hug, making him smell the faint traces of the body wash they always used clinging to her arms. She walks over to you, grabbing a spoon and taking a bite of the açai.

“Mum and Dad are out right now, I’ll text them you got home early.”

His sister walks over to her room, leaving you and him in the same space together.

He stands there, his heavy bag hanging low behind him. He turns to you, watching as you hop off the counter.

“It’s been a while.” He says, seeing how much prettier you had gotten.

“Yeah, nice to see you again though.” You slightly bowed, a small piece of hair falling from behind your ear. You take the bowl and walk over to the dinner table.

“You too.” He rubs the back of his neck, walking behind you.

You sit down in the chair he always used to sit in, the one he always used to fight over with his sister.

He turns, walking into his old room.

The rain outside hasn’t eased up, still the same harsh drops now slapping against his window.

He places his bag down, plopping down onto his old bed. He realises his mother must have been cleaning, the room completely devoid of any dust. He had visited just months ago, but it still felt weird every time he came back.

He plops down on his old bed, looking at his desk. His old PC setup is untouched, the cords now hanging loosely off the table.

He falls back against his sheets, closing his eyes out of exhaustion.

He didn’t expect his first time coming home in weeks to be so anticlimactic, although he supposed this was better than when he was a trainee.

“How’s it like being an idol now?”

He sits up immediately, seeing you stand in his doorway. He should’ve closed the door, he thinks.

“Pretty good.”

He realises that he can’t really catch a break anymore, especially with you still in his house.

His sister has probably texted their parents already, so why are you still talking to him?

You casually take a bite out of the acai bowl, something that Seonghyeon had kind of been eyeing the minute he saw you with it. “How is it? Being an idol I mean. I know you worked really hard too, so it has to feel amazing now.”

He nods at that. “Uh, it’s nice. I get to meet a lot of people that I didn’t think I’d get to.”

You hummed at that. “But it has to be hard at times, right?” You walk into the room, getting closer to him. 

“I guess.” He shrugged, his cheeks feeling a little bit warm as his childhood crush walked closer to him.

“What’s the hardest part about it?” You eyed a few things in his room–the drawings and clothes at the end of his bed.

He thinks for a moment before coming up with a quick answer that wouldn’t get him in trouble.

“Probably the training.”

“Really? Not the fans who constantly pry and claw their way into your personal life?”

Your response almost shocks him for a moment, making him awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

“Not all of them are like that..” He tries to defend, but he knows there are clips of him online revealing way more than he would like to admit.

You nod at that. “So how do you date?”

That question makes him snap his head up immediately, making him look at you standing around so casually.

“W-what?”

“How do you date?” You echo. “Surely it has to be hard.”

You take a few more steps forward, but apparently you hadn’t paid enough attention as something makes you trip over, resulting in you suddenly falling forward.

If anyone asked, Seonghyeon would swear that he caught you.

Although that would be a lie, seeing how his attempt to make you fall safely leads you to lie right on top of him.

Pain shoots up his back for a quick second, making him groan. 

He was about to ask if you were okay but the words die on his tongue the moment he looks at you. Your face was just inches from his, and smelling his old shampoo on you made him feel a little dizzy.

You had probably tripped over his bag strap, making him curse himself five minutes ago for recklessly dropping it to the ground.

You were chest to chest, and his arms had somehow found their place on the small of your backside.

You didn’t look embarrassed or shocked to be right on top of him, you just looked a little surprised, like the way people did when someone they didn’t know said hi to them. 

Not when they had just fallen into a celebrity.

He feels a heat crawl fast, right up his neck and probably already on his cheeks. He couldn’t get a single word out, his breaths quickening and uneven as you looked around you, your eyes cast around the ground.

“Oh, good.”

What- he looks at what you were looking at, only to find that the half eaten açai bowl landed upright, right under his desk.

Instead of getting off of him like a normal person would, you instead sit up, still on him and grab the acai bowl.

Seonghyeon almost dies inside as his shirt on you starts falling to the side, a quick reveal of your shoulder making him almost explode in embarrassment. His hands are now on your waist from your movements, and for some reason you don’t seem to mind one bit.

Get a grip! You’re an idol for fucks sake.

He should be more professional than this but the 17 year olds body clearly doesn’t listen to him as heat keeps rushing up his neck.

“Are you okay?”

You ask almost a little too worried, now leaning in much closer than you were just seconds ago.

He opens his mouth to respond, only to shut it once you press the back of your fingers to his head.

Seonghyeon is suddenly faced with the realisation that a very pretty girl is sitting in his lap with his hands around her waist, and now checking if he has a fever.

“You’re kind of burning up… are you sure rain didn’t get on you or something?” Your hand drifts lower, your warm fingers touching his even warmer neck. “I didn’t think people could get sick this quick..”

That’s because I’m not sick!

He clears his throat before speaking. “I’m not sick.”

Just as he was about to stand up and finally get you off of him, a gasp came from his doorway.

“Seonghyeon! What are you doing with my friend?” His sister scolds, now rushing in and pulling you off of him.

He stands up quickly and tries to defend himself. “I wasn’t doing anything! She just fell–“

“Right on top of you like some K-drama scene? That’s so gross!” His sister fake gags before walking off with you.

Although before you left his line of vision, you leaned back into his room, now giving him a cheeky smile.

“I’ll wait for your answer, Eom Seonghyeon.” You say, giving a quick wave of goodbye before walking off.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

He thinks that you must’ve tripped over his bag strap, only for him to realise that his bag was nowhere near where you had fallen.

Did she..trip on purpose?

Back in his sister's room, you sit on her bed, wondering if he had figured it out yet. His sister played some random game in front of you as you thought of the situation that transpired just moments ago.

You didn’t expect to fully trip right on top of him, but you didn’t mind it.

Seeing how nervous he looked reminded you of the days before he became an idol, making you remember all the tricks and pranks you used to play on him.

“He’s still so cute..”

“Did you say something?” His sister asks, still not looking up from her phone.

She did a small fist pump, a wide grin on her face.

“Finally! Now they’ll stop making fun of me so much.”

Just as she said that, a tall girl from Silla bumped into her desk, knocking down her pens and pencils.

“Oops.” The girl mocked, walking away as her and her friends obnoxiously laughed.

“What’s their problem…” Wonhee grumbled, picking up her fallen items.

You picked up a pen that had fallen just under your desk before standing up, feeling a little thirsty.

“Want me to get mango juice?”

She nods, now a smile on her face. You walk out after that, your shoes squeaking against the polished tiles.

The vending machine was on the floor below, just in front of the stairs.

You were about to walk down when you heard a small commotion underneath.

“…just ignore him Seonghyeon! Just because he’s back doesn’t mean anything!”

“Just don’t talk to him. If the worst comes to worst, just run.”

You hear someone sigh. “It’s fine. I don’t want to involve you guys so I’ll deal with it myself.” It’s Seonghyeon’s voice, and instead of the all familiar disdain he usually has, it’s more of a soft and personal tone that he probably only used when he was around his friends.

You feel like you shouldn’t be there to hear that, seeing as how he clearly still didn’t like you.

You waited for a few more minutes until they left, their footsteps thudding in unison.

You pressed the button, waiting as the juice finally dropped into the box.

“There you are! Why’d you take so long?”

Trying to make it seem like nothing happened, you shrugged. “I went to the bathroom.”

You weren’t sure why you lied.

You didn’t like him very much either, but it seemed too personal.

If you were in his position, you wouldn’t want any more people to know about your own problems. 

But, who was the ‘he’ they were talking about? Had Seonghyeon gotten into a fight with someone?

You shook your head. It wasn’t your business to think about.

After cram school was over, you immediately walked to the cafe close by.

The cafe didn’t have a site, so you had printed out a cover letter and a resume, hoping that they would accept you.

They still had the ‘hiring’ sign up, making you feel better as you pushed through the glass doors.

You walked in, going straight to the barista cleaning glasses behind the counter.

She was nice for the most part, happily accepting your papers. She did a small interview before looking at your resume, smiling sweetly at you as your meeting ended.

You were feeling a bit uneasy after it, feeling like maybe they wouldn’t accept you.

But after your mother suddenly surprised you with a whole bag of crispy green apples you forgot all about your anxiety and downed half of the stock.

Your mother yelled at you, but it was okay.

At least you weren’t met with the disappointment of having to see them be chopped up into a pie.

You shivered at the memory.

You woke up the next morning with a strange tiredness and a raging headache.

Apparently you were so tired that you had completely forgotten about Seonghyeon being next door, almost bumping right into him as you walked down the path.

As soon as you see his face, the memory from yesterday suddenly starts replaying in your head. 

He gave you a dirty side-eye before walking off, his long legs carrying him to his horrid school.

You wanted to flip him off behind his back, but decided against it when the throbbing pain at the side of your head intensified.

You dragged yourself to the school, trying to feed off of Wonhee’s cheerful energy as she talked with you the entire time.

You felt like you were just drifting through, not even bothering to move and just let people bump into you.

You walked straight to your classroom, feeling worse than ever.

“You look dead.” Wonhee said, feeding on whatever new snack was stocked from the convenience store.

“I feel dead.”

You weren’t too keen on doing anything today, and a part of you wished you could just skip. Then you weighed your options and remembered that the comic store in the city was getting a whole new shipment, which would make a great place to hide out until school was over.

What if I just walked out right now…

You snuck out of school during lunchtime.

To Wonhee’s disappointment, she couldn’t skip with you, saying that she had to stay behind because your math teacher needed her to retake a test after school. So you just left without her.

Was it bad of you to do?

Yes, but if your head decided to hit you with another migraine, you were sure you would probably pass out.

One thing great about the school delinquents was that they were great at skipping school.

And especially for covering up for the others.

“Why are you skipping?”

Jeong Woo-jin was a nice guy who just happened to fall in with the wrong crowd. Even though he was kind to others, he was still part of a gang and would fight others on the streets.

In your first year, you had met him in detention after sleeping during an exam, a result of you staying up late to read comics.

He asked for your help for his homework, but ended up making you do all the work.

Since then, you’ve had a strange relationship between favours and actual friends.

“Because I have a raging headache.” You deadpanned.

He shakes his head. “You already said that. I meant, why are you skipping. It’s not everyday you see the top student of her grade just leaving school.” He pops a crisp chip into his mouth, chewing on it loudly as he seems to wait for your answer.

“Just cover for me? Please? If you don’t, I’ll snitch to the hallway monitors about you and your friends' uniform.”

He seems surprised at that last part before nodding, turning his head to face his friends.

He yells out a few words that you tuned out, the throbbing in your head suddenly getting worse.

“You know how to get to the side alley, right?”

You nodded, still grimacing in pain. 

He stands up, looking concerned. “You alright? Want some water before you go?”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“Alrightt.” He drawled behind your back as you walked off, some of his friends even saying bye as you went.

You waved them off, walking straight to the side alley.

The ‘side alley’ was the infamous alley that sat right between Baekje Middle School and Hwimun Academy.

Long story short, both schools used the alley to jump right out of school, but also used it to have one-on-one fights almost all the time.

You had used it once–on athletics day, when your period cramps had been absolutely horrible so Wonhee helped you over the wall, even sitting next to you the whole time as you complained.

Although it had got cut short the minute the security guard caught you and about seven other people.

You had all been forced out and got handed an after school detention.

The wall stands in front of you now, way too tall and way too dirty.

It’s been used for so many years by students who’ve jumped over it, some footholds even starting to erode into place. You could probably even tell a story from the amount of names that had gotten carved into the bricks.

You hopped up, feeling the way your bag slightly shifted sides.

You tense your arms as you force yourself up, trying to adjust your weight to make sure your feet wouldn’t slip. You reach another hand up, cringing as you feel dirt crushed against your fingers.

After a few more movements, you finally reach the top, swinging your leg over and now fully on the other side.

You feel your heart pounding against your chest, the adrenaline coursing through you making you sweat.

Just a few more steps…

“Why are you here?”

Those sudden words make you flinch, an unfortunate reaction that makes your foot slip.

You feel yourself falling for a full second–a second that makes you see nothing but straight blue skies.

It’s pretty.

Just as you thought you were going to get a concussion, your body hits something much softer than the floor.

You don’t realise what you’ve fallen on until you feel arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. You hear a groan pressed right against the back of your neck, someone’s face now buried in your ponytail.

You stand up immediately, a slight flush on your cheeks.

“Sorry..” you mumbled.

You look up behind your loose hairs, coming face to face with Eom Seonghyeon.

Seriously?

He obviously seems more annoyed and angrier than ever, his hair now messed up. He dusts himself off, a few scuff marks of dirt now visible on the bottom of his trousers.

He narrows his eyes over at you. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Why are you blaming me for falling?” You scoffed. “Your voice surprised me, that’s why I fell.”

He rolled his eyes at your excuse, already walking off.

You waited for a second before following him, not wanting to be too close in case he got pissed off.

Your footsteps follow each other in a patterned beat, the thuds against the dull pavement filling the silence between you two. You think about it for a moment–he had enough time to just move and let you fall, instead he caught you.

Eom Seonghyeon caught me.

Granted, he probably just didn’t want to see someone’s head smash against the pavement, but he obviously recognised you and still caught you.

Usually, that’s the type of thing comics would call ‘character development’.

You find yourself looking at the back of his head, his backpack hanging low over his shoulders.

“Hey! What are you kids doing over here?” A gruff voice cuts through the silence, immediately making you freeze.

You didn’t know how to react–this was your first time skipping, so your heart had already been racing faster than it had even been. What if your parents caught wind of this? How bad would the punishment be? 

You can’t seem to move your body at all until a warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you in the opposite direction.

“Run!” Seonghyeon says, still pulling you with him.

You don’t have time to think as the security guard seems to be right behind you, his steps seeming to shake the floor.

You both run to the street, avoiding pedestrians as you try to escape.

“Hey! Come back here!” The voice calls out. You can hear a few passersby talking about you three, but you didn’t care.

You just needed to make sure you escaped.

Soenghyeon drags you behind a wall, wedged between stairs and a vent.

You don’t realise how fast you were really running when the ache starts to settle in your legs, making you drop down to the floor. 

Suddenly, a throbbing pain hits the side of your head once again.

This time it’s worse, and it feels like a constant barrage of tennis balls going 70 kilometres an hour hitting you right on the brain.

You can’t think of anything, trying to keep your heavy breathing and whines quiet so that the guard didn’t catch you.

You cover your mouth, an action that makes it harder to breathe, but you’d rather that than have been caught because you inhaled too hard.

“Where did they go..” 

The voice seems too close, and you hadn’t noticed how close his footsteps were until now. Your eyes widen immediately, making you press your hand harder against your lips.

You don’t think of anyone else right now, which is why you don’t notice how close Seonghyeon was next to you.

His arm keeps brushing up next to yours and he doesn’t seem to notice at all.

If this were at the cram school, he would’ve recoiled back and sent you one of the dirtiest side-eyes ever.

You hear the guard click his tongue before his footsteps finally fade into the background.

You want to sigh in relief, but the pounding pain in your head gets worse.

Instead of tennis balls, it felt like footballs getting punted at you at 80 kilometres an hour.

You clutch your head in your arms, squeezing your eyes shut and just wishing for your headache to stop.

“Hey, he’s gone now.” Seonghyeon’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

And suddenly you’re very aware how close he once was.

He stands up next to you, dusting himself off once again.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone–“

His sentence is cut short when you tug on his shirt. 

“Wait. Please.” You meekly say, something you were sure you wouldn’t have ever said just five minutes ago.

Your head is still in your arms, so you don’t know what his facial expression is.

Does he look disgusted? Does he look angry? Or does he look like he actually cares?

What would he even look like if he cared?

After a few silent minutes, the headache finally settles to a small extent, still there but not enough to where you would complain. 

You stand up, realising your hand is still clutched to his shirt.

You look up at him, finding his face completely indifferent.

He turns, but makes no effort to make you let go of him.

You follow him to a convenience store, the hot sun making your eyes sting just a little bit.

“Wait here.” He suddenly says, walking in without looking back.

You don’t know why you listened.

You waited there for about one minute until he walked back out with Tylenol and water, clearly meant for you.

He offers them out to you, still looking indifferent despite his actions. You take them, mumbling out a small ‘thanks’ before popping a tablet in.

You’re both silent the whole time. 

You don’t make any snide remarks, and he doesn't seem to offer a single care in the world that he’s hanging out with you when just two days ago he probably would’ve left you there and let you get caught.

Apparently both of you had the same plan after getting out of school.

You both walked to the train station side by side, not a single word spoken between you two. It didn’t feel awkward, but it definitely didn’t feel amazing either.

The train came after seven minutes, the door stopping right in front of you in a dramatic creaky fashion.

You both walked in, still not looking at each other.

To your surprise, the train was packed–families and workers somehow filling up the whole cart.

Just as you were about to walk into another cart, Seonghyeon pulled you close to him. Your face was just inches away from his, and his hand found its way back onto your wrist. You tried to wrench your way free, but he clutched it tighter.

“What are you–“

“A bunch of adults are looking at us.” 

It’s that remark that makes you realise the situation you’re in.

You can’t imagine how many people are judging you right now–two minors walking around freely in the city in their uniform when they should be at school.

You look around, suddenly spotting two men looking at both of you. One of them looks at you with a grin spreading on his face.

You grimace, stepping closer to Seonghyeon.

Seonghyeon doesn’t seem to mind your actions either, instead just deciding to pull you into another cart with him.

It’s just as crowded as the last one, but you were fine with it as long as those two guys weren’t looking at you anymore.

You look up at him.

His hair is a little bit messed up now, probably from all that running. 

He doesn’t seem to care that you’re close to him now, which felt odd.

You were sure that he completely hated your guts.

For the first time in his life, Eom Seonghyeon is confused.

He doesn’t know why he’s standing so close to you right now, and he doesn’t know why he even bought you water and medicine.

Sure, he would usually do it for anyone he was close with, but with you?

He doesn’t hate you, he knows that.

But it was a confusing relationship.

First, he saw you falling and his body had immediately reacted, running under you to catch you. Then he saw that security guard and was sure he was going to run away, alone. But when he turned and saw that you were completely frozen in place with wide eyes, he knew that he had no choice but to bring you along.

She's going to get us both caught!

So in a pure rush of adrenaline, he grabbed you and told you to run.

He was only expecting to spend just a few minutes with you, but when you gripped his shirt, instead of seeing a girl that used to irritate him to no end, he saw a vulnerable girl that was obviously in pain.

Now, he stands in front of you, looking anywhere in the cart that wasn’t at you.

Just as he was about to put all of his focus on a baby staring just two feet away from him, the boy behind him bumps into him, hard.

Seonghyeon slips before grabbing onto a pole. He sighs in relief until he looks up, realising that he was now way too close to your face. Apparently you were just as surprised as him, your eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.

He was going to jump back, but the boy that bumped into him suddenly pointed at you two and started laughing.

“Ewwww, they’re gonna kiss!”

“No we’re not!” You both yell in unison.

He stands up straight immediately, a slight flush crawling up his neck. A few adults chuckle at you two, which makes Seonghyeon wish for nothing than to bury himself into a hole.

Once the train stopped at his station, he ran out the doors, completely relieved that he wouldn’t have to be around you anymore. He was about to walk away until he heard your voice yelling.

“Seonghyeon!”

He immediately turns, finding you stuck in a crowd of people trying to get into the train. You couldn’t push your way out, and the panicked look on your face made him instantly jump into action.

“Help me!” Your shrill voice yells out.

He spots your hand immediately. 

He grabs it, pulling you out of the crowd. But he had apparently pulled you out too hard, seeing as how you had somehow stumbled right on top of him.

Second time today…

He groans once again, looking at how you seemed much more disheveled.

“Thanks.” You breathed out.

“Get off.” He grunts.

You both walk out into the city, still staying side by side. Tourists and locals bustle all around the place, the loud chattering something that Seonghyeon had gotten used to.

You stop in front of a comic store and then turn to him.

“Thanks for everything!” You bow, and then look up, a wide smile on your face.

Although it’s immediately cut short. “Just tell anyone about this, idiot.”

He walks off, his figure disappearing into the crowd.

You want to run after him and hit him, but seeing how many times he had helped you in just an hour restrains you from doing so.

Stares and murmurs followed you everywhere you went, all from private school kids who sneered at you. You weren’t someone who was particularly intimidated by them, but having to deal with whispers and conversations, all about how your school was ‘second-rate’ was bothersome.

Eom Seonghyeon wasn’t particularly loud about his hatred towards you.

Well, it was more like he treated you like some ugly pet.

He would mostly ignore you, but every time he had to face you, he would click his tongue and give you a dirty look.

With every interaction you had with him, this air of derogatory confidence seemed to spew out of him with every glance he spared you.

It was like he truly believed that he was better than you.

But for some reason, instead of talking behind your back or even just blatantly bullying you, he would come up to you and actually say that drivel to your face.

You weren’t sure if you appreciated it or absolutely abhorred it.

The only thing you were sure of was the fact that he was a rich spoiled kid who very clearly didn’t like you.

He’s also very dedicated to his studies–a quality that had surprised you a little too much. When he wasn’t sending you a harsh glare or laughing at you, he was always sitting at his desk and focusing on whatever task the instructor gave out.

Because the cram school was so prestigious, it made sense for the school to hand out rankings.

Much to Wonhee’s dismay.

37. Lee Wonhee, Baekje Middle School.

She stared at it in shock before almost passing out, her body rocking back and forth until she fell right into you. You caught her, watching as her face didn’t even go into one of sadness or anger, just pure shock.

You look up and scan quickly for Seonghyeon’s name, finding it almost right at the top.

Almost.

2. Eom Seonghyeon, Hwimun Academy.

Your name resides next to the number one, just above his. You grin, now knowing that all his efforts were put to shame because an ‘idiot’ beat him.

Was it bad to think you were better than him? Yes, but it definitely wasn’t as bad as his attitude.

The girls around you look at Wonhee, their stares being either one of fake pity or pure amusement at her frustration. A few even laugh, pointing right at her ranking.

“Bro my parents are actually going to beat my ass.” She said after you both safely returned to the back seats.

“If I’m last in cram school, what the hell am I going to do at our actual school?” She says, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against the desk.

She turns to the side, looking at you as you had cracked open a book amidst her complaining.

“You’re lucky you don’t have to study. Why did your parents even send you here? You get first place in like, every subject.” She whined.

You pat her shoulder to comfort her.

“But on the bright side, you got 78 out of 100! In the actual mock exam you got like 53.” You said. “The people here are just smart freaks.”

She whines, running her hands through her hair. “That’s true… you got first place didn’t you?”

You nod, now noting how a few other kids at the front started eyeing you (more like your uniform) as they looked up at the scoreboard.

You have the slight urge to stick your tongue out and make fun of them for losing against a ‘second rate’ student, but decide against it as you spot him moving to the front.

People move out of their way just to make space for him, like he’s a celebrity or something, and even shush others as soon as he and his friends reach the board.

You want to scoff at how obedient they all seem, like sheep to a farmer.

He stands at the front of his group, staying quiet while his friends either yelled in disappointment or disbelief.

“Baekje middle school? The school right next to ours?” A tall boy with blonde hair exclaims, making Wonhee immediately perk up.

A few of his other friends say a few things before walking back.

“How the hell is first place and last place from the same school?”

Hearing that, Wonhee sinks back in her seat in shame, making herself appear smaller.

Before his friends sat down, you felt an intense gaze from across the room, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly standing up. You looked up in that direction immediately, only to find Seonghyeon staring right at you.

He doesn’t make a single facial expression, just his eyes glaring holes right into you.

You feel his eyes on you for the rest of the lesson. You don't feel particularly nervous under his gaze, but it does feel annoying when you can’t even look to the right without immediately spotting his dark brown eyes already on you.

At the end of the class, Wonhee leaves first as her parents needed more help at her family’s restaurant, leaving you to walk home all alone.

“I’m home!” You say, calling out to no one in particular.

You assumed that your mother was probably working late, seeing as how her familiar booming voice wasn’t heard anywhere.

But five minutes later, as soon as you had gotten dressed into some comfortable clothes, you hear the front door open.

Your name gets called out loud, making you almost want to cover your ears as you open your door.

You look down the stairs, leaning over the railing as you spot your mother standing just at the bottom.

“We have some new neighbours.” 

“So?”

“So, I want you to help me bake a pie for them!” She urges, using her hand gestures to hurry you up.

You shoved your hands into your hoodie pockets and walked down the stairs, not really hurrying in the way she wanted you to.

She had already disappeared into the kitchen and was probably rummaging through the whole pantry for ingredients.

You can’t remember the last time you had baked something for the neighbours–maybe about seven years ago?

They were a married couple that always used to give you treats every time you came over, and sometimes their oldest daughter would come around to hang out with you. Although she had moved out two years ago, you still look back on those fond memories spent doing nothing but watching TV while she yapped about her new boyfriends and painted her nails.

Their house was very grand too, having a massive pool and a jacuzzi on their second floor.

The couple ended up moving back to their hometown, so you were wondering who could’ve moved in now.

You spotted their moving vans and fancy gear about a week ago, but your family hadn’t been able to introduce themselves yet.

To your disappointment, your mother had decided to bake a fresh apple pie, something that she hadn’t baked in months even when you pleaded for her to.

You had recognised the ingredients for it immediately, making you stand there in disbelief as she chopped up the delicious apples.

You could basically feel the apples crying out as she cut into them, their screams of terror echoing throughout the kitchen.

“They get to have the apple pie because at least I know they’ll cherish it, unlike you, who chows down on anything apple related without savouring it.” She had said, shortly after pulling the pie out of the oven.

It smelled really good, making you almost drool the minute she set it down on the table.

“Just one slice?”

“They’re going to notice a slice missing.”

“Not if we cut the whole thing into slices, and then arranged it into a smaller circle so it wouldn't look like there was a missing slice in the first place.”

“…how did you come up with that?”

You shrug. “So…can we do that?”

That earned you a smack to the shoulder immediately.

After carefully putting the pie onto a fancy porcelain dish, your mother promptly tried to send you out.

“Why do I have to be the one to do it? Wouldn’t it be better if it came from you?”

She shook her head, cleaning up the counter while you sat at the dinner table.

“Think of it as practice for you–I know you’re not very good at interacting with people, but it’s better to make friends with the neighbours now rather than hate them all later. Plus, I heard from Nari across from us that they have a very handsome son.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust, already knowing where the conversation was going. Your parents already knew about your blatant aversion of dating, something you had been doing the minute you hit puberty.

It wasn’t that you hated guys, it was just that you’d rather not go through the efforts of trying to date someone. You were fine with daydreaming of apples and comic characters.

At least they wouldn’t try to cheat on you.

You shivered, suddenly remembering the horror stories that your neighbour once told you.

“I think he’s single too.” She says, turning around to see your reaction.

You had just pressed your lips into a thin line before snatching the pie off the table and walking to the front door.

“Good luck!”

You waved her off, closing the door gently behind you.

The night air is as cold as you expected, making you grateful for the baggy sweats you had thrown on.

You shield the pie against the breeze, feeling the warmth of it through the ceramic.

As you walk up to their front door, shivers suddenly send up your spine. 

For some reason, the house that you once almost spent a whole summer in suddenly felt much colder. You didn’t want to assume anything, but the warmth that the previous family once had was completely gone, despite them only moving out two weeks ago.

Instead of the overgrown vines and fancy bushes, the house was devoid of any plants, looking more like those modern houses that everyone hated.

It was like they had completely removed the whimsy of the old house, the original warm brown replaced by a cold white paint. The stained glass on the door was also gone, completely replaced by a clear minimal one.

You clear your throat before ringing the doorbell, feeling nervous as the seconds ticked by.

You could feel the dish getting colder and colder by the second, the impatience in you cracking.

You counted for a full minute, then two, then three.

As soon as you reached minute six, you rang the doorbell twice, hoping that someone would finally open the door up so that your mother’s hard work wasn’t for nothing.

Soon enough, you heard light footsteps thump on the other side.

The door handle then starts to twist and turn, making a few loud sounds before it finally opens.

You freeze in your spot immediately, making eye contact with the one person you thought it would never be.

Eom Seonghyeon stands in the doorway, wide-eyed and seemingly also having the same thoughts as you.

You both don’t say anything for a while, just staring as the previous coldness seemed to disappear.

Then, you shove the dish into his hands and pull the door closed, ripping the handle from the other side out of his hands slamming it right in his face.

You run out of the front garden, hurrying back home embarrassed and annoyed.

He was your neighbour.

He lived right next to you, meaning that you’d have to see him every morning and after noon. 

He can keep the dish for all I care!

As soon as you open the front door, your mother yells out from the living room.

“How was it?”

“Fine!” You say, a little too brash.

You run up the stairs and run into your room, closing the door behind you lightly so that your other wouldn’t suspect anything.

You jump into your bed and scream into your pillow.

Wasn’t it enough that you had to see him at cram school?

When you wake up, a sudden anxiousness overcomes you as you look out the window.

There was a room in their house that faced yours, and it was close enough that you could probably jump in from. You had done it a couple of times, as it was the girl’s room.

Sometimes when she’d sneak out the house, she’d come through your window and talk to you for a few minutes before going off to a party or her boyfriend’s house.

You sigh, wondering how she was doing at University now.

The family living there had replaced the old pink with white and grey ones, making you almost annoyed.

Why ruin an already perfect house?

You assumed that no one was probably living in that room, so as you opened the window to let some fresh air in, imagine your surprise when that window opened as well, revealing a half-asleep Seonghyeon.

His hair was messed up, a few pieces sticking up as the back. He looked disheveled and unkempt, much different than he usually did at cram school. He rubbed his eyes as a small breeze blew past.

The minute you made eye contact, you both shut your windows in unison, the sound echoing slightly in the small space between you.

It was like every time you thought you were done with him, he suddenly popped back in like some annoying pimple.

After getting dressed you waited near the living room window, waiting for him to walk out.

You didn’t like having to avoid people, but it was clear that you would both rather not have to interact with each other again.

After a few minutes, you spotted his front door opening.

You waited for a few seconds, your breathing uneven and heart beating faster for no reason. Finally, you spotted him walking out.

He looks as polished and clean as he always does, his hair slightly parted to reveal his forehead.

You wait for another few minutes until he is completely gone before finally walking out.

The amount of interactions you already had with him in the past 24 hours was more than enough to have you sick of each other.

Slamming the door in his face was the first sign of that.

You wait for Wonhee at a convenience store, snacking on some breadsticks. She arrives shortly after, looking very pleased and excited.

“My dad hired another guy to work, so we’ll get to hang out more!”

During your walk to school together, you told her about how you slammed Seonghyeon’s own door in his face, how his room was basically right next to yours, and how you absolutely despised the situation.

“It’s…not that bad.”

You look at her with a deadpanned expression.

“Okay, maybe it is. But, just wait for a few more days and maybe it’ll get better.”

You walked into the school gates, spying the Hwimun guys close by. They all seemed to be minding their business, but every now and then you could see the way they looked down on all of the people from your school. They would laugh and point at any of the kids who looked poor–old sneakers, blazers or shirts two sizes too big.

“They’re so annoying…” you mumbled, Wonhee nodding beside you.

“I’m sure it’s like a thing with rich parents to raise their kids like they’re better than everyone else because they have money.”

Your morning classes were the same as always–Wonhee was either in your ear, feeding you the latest gossip or eating some random snack she got off of one of her other friends.

The trouble came during lunch–mostly everyone was in the cafeteria, eating the lunches they brought from home.

Then, a football smashed through the windows.

It was loud; its impact echoing through the whole place.

Everyone’s conversation had completely disappeared, now replaced by a worried silence.

You had looked up briefly, finding the ball rolling close to your feet.

It made its dramatic stop two feet away from you, the quiet tension between everyone thinner than skin.

Slapped right on top of the ball was a yellow sticky note.

‘Welfare freaks’.

The insult was pretty tame, but a majority of the kids here lived off of it.

It caused a ruckus immediately.

Kids were running from right to left, just to see what was written on the note. The ones that had seen it were mad, all already planning to storm the boys school.

The school couldn’t afford to replace the windows, meaning that it would have to come out of your principal’s own money. While no one appreciated having to come to school, the principal was one of the nicest people there. 

Of course he was strict, but he had to be. 

He was happily married to his husband, and rarely needed to scold the delinquents because they just all loved him.

But he wasn’t rich.

And everyone already knew how much of a pain it was to replace a window.

The teachers had rushed in immediately, forcing everyone to back away from the broken glass. Yells and shouts were now everywhere, a few people trying to run in and grab the ball.

You and Wonhee had finished lunch quickly, not wanting to get caught up in the chaos.

She was enraged at the fact that the private school kids still wanted nothing but to make fun of them.

“That fight already ruined our reputation–why the hell are they still bothering us?”

You shook your head, thinking of the situation.

It wasn’t enough for them.

It was like they enjoyed seeing you all squirm and scream.

To say you were just annoyed was an understatement.

After school and dealing with two whole hours of trying to ignore Eom Seonghyeon’s presence, you peacefully walk inside your house, fully prepared to jump into your bed and take a short nap.

Your parents weren’t home, again probably working late, leaving you in the house all alone.

You had finished your chores and had showered, now in a thin tank top and baggy sweats.

Just as you were about to walk up to your room, the doorbell suddenly rings.

You had audibly groaned, but walked back down and opened the door without looking at who it was.

It’s not until you’re staring at the pie dish from last night, completely empty, that you realise who is holding it.

Seonghyeon holds it out, an empty expression on his face. He wears a sweater with the word ‘Rats’ on it and casual black pants.

For some reason, that fact stuns you for a moment.

“My mum says thanks.” He simply says, shoving the dish into your hands before turning away, leaving you still at the door.

He walks straight back to his front yard, not even sparing a single glance back at you.

You hold the dish out, noting that it smelled faintly of a lavender dish soap.

At least they were nice enough to clean it.

Then you think about everything that happened during lunch and immediately retract that statement.

They probably had a maid that cleaned it anyway.

You had already been studying constantly, and if they were to send you to cram school, then that means you wouldn’t be able to visit the comic store after school anymore.

Faced with that realisation, you now stand in front of your mother as she cooks dinner.

Or tries to anyway. It's kind of hard to do that when a 15 year old keeps complaining in your ear.

“But mummmm,” you bemoan. “It’s only the electives! They don’t even matter!”

She shakes her head, her knife hitting the chopping board with a light thump. She was making another one of her ‘famous stews’, although you were pretty sure she just got it from another cooking website. “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be getting less than 95% in art and digital technologies.”

“But–“ you tried to interject, only for your mother to interrupt immediately.

“No buts! I know you think they don’t matter, but excelling at everything in school will get you to every college there is,” she walks to the sink, washing the knife under cold water. “If you really put your mind to it, you’ll get into Tsinghua university, just like your father and I.”

But you dropped out because it was too hard. You bitterly thought, but immediately regretted it and mentally slapped your forehead.

“I know you think it’s unfair, but we just want the best for you.” She puts the knife into the rack before walking over to the freezer and pulling out the best dessert in the entire world–a full tub of mango-apple ice cream.

Every negative thought you had disappeared immediately.

You had enjoyed that delicious dessert after dinner, reaching about halfway until your dad took it away from you.

At school, you thought about skipping the two hour session until Wonhee had told you they did a roll-call at the start and if you weren’t there, they would call your parents.

You showed up right on time, putting your bag on the desk’s hook.

You weren’t really sure what ‘cram school’ was supposed to teach you.

For some reason, your parents had decided to send you to a prestigious one, one where mostly private school students who couldn’t afford a private tutor would go to.

Sure, it was probably a really good school with nice enough teachers, but the only reason why you were scoring lower in those subjects was because you couldn’t give less of a crap about them!

As soon as you entered the room, you felt stares from everyone, suddenly making you notice how out of place you looked there.

All of the kids had fancy uniforms, a few even wearing fancy brands. Whether it be their jewellery or shoes, it was clear there was a gap in wealth between you and them.

Wonhee couldn’t come that day because her parents had forced her to come work at their family restaurant, so you sat all alone at the back while everyone else seemed to have their own little friend groups.

You were pulling out stuff from your bag when you make eye contact with another girl, giving her a small smile. Instead of giving you one back, her expression turns into one of disgust, scoffing and turning around to face her friends.

Tough crowd.

You were about to pull out your pencil case when someone accidentally bumped into your desk, knocking off your newly bought comic.

In a quick flash, you snatched the comic up before it could even touch the ground, making you feel proud of your quick reflexes.

You turn to face the assailant, ready for an apology only to see a boy staring blankly right back at you. 

You almost froze in your spot.

To describe the boy standing in front of you would be like describing a model.

His hair fell perfectly over his face, a small fringe just above his long eyelashes. He was fair, with skin so smooth and shiny you swore you grew a pimple or two staring at it in envy. He looked relaxed and almost uncareful, almost like he didn’t just cause half your books to fall.

“What?” He says roughly, his tone completely snapping you back to reality.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, I guess.

You take a deep breath before responding, reminding yourself to try to be polite. “You’re supposed to say sorry.”

The boy narrowed his eyes, looking over your appearance. Suddenly you felt very conscious of your clothes–your beat up sneakers and dirty skirt that still had an orange juice spill feeling very obvious.

“I don’t say sorry to idiots. Especially ones that go to a public school.” He walks off immediately, leaving you stunned.

His words echo through your brain, leaving you more and more annoyed as he walks over to his seat, laughing with his friends about something.

What. The. Fuck.

Did he seriously call you an idiot to your face?

You don’t realise that you had your fists clenched until you hear the small squeak of the comic against your fingernails.

You panicked for a quick second, seeing the crescent shaped dents on the comics cover.

You looked over at the boy, his face suddenly starting to look uglier and uglier.

Later that night, you recalled that interaction while washing the dishes, feeling angrier and angrier as you thought about it more.

“Stupid asshole… also what the fuck is even that accent of his? ‘Oh I don’t say sorry to idiots because my ego is so inflated!’ Just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you have to treat people rudely!” You cursed under your breath. Recalling the horrid memory had aggravated you so much that you ended up using much more force on a cup than you intended and accidentally dropping it onto the ground.

You could basically see it falling in slow motion, every hope of being able to buy another comic disappearing with each centimetre it got closer to the ground.

It shatters loudly, your parents immediately running in to assess the damage.

You couldn’t do anything but nervously look up at your dad, who was stroking his chin as if he was already thinking of a punishment for you.

The last time you did something like this, he had banned you from going to the comic store for about a month. What was he going to do now?

“Two weeks grounded.”

You accepted it without complaint.

The next day you awoke quite energised.

You walked to school with Wonhee, talking about some new drama. Just as you were about to cross the street, two boys suddenly ran out from the left, almost running right into you.

It had surprised Wonhee, her arms that were previously filled with snacks and drinks had now fallen to the ground.

Their uniforms looked awfully familiar, but you couldn’t quite recall where you had seen them before.

Your friend had cursed them under her breath, clenching her first behind their backs like she was some old lady.

“Reckless jerks! They think they’re so much better than everyone just because they go to a private school.” She said as you both picked up her fallen items.

“I can’t believe their school had to be right next to ours.”

“..Wait, what?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Even though we’re a public school, there’s a fancy boys private school right next to it.” She says almost casually, kicking at some pebble on the pathway. “It’s called Hwimun academy. Apparently the principals were in love once, so that’s why their school is so close to ours. But because that was so long ago, everything between our school and theirs just turned into a mess.”

As she explained it all to you, you suddenly remembered bits and pieces about the private school during your first few weeks.

“How do you not know this though? You’ve been here for a full year.”

You shrug, letting her continue.

The private school was way bigger than your school, and definitely got ten times more funding than anyone else’s.

Despite that, she told you that while their school would beat you at sports, your school would beat them at academics, which was quite surprising.

“The guys there are ruder than anyone else though. They don’t even try to be nice–it’s like if they do, they’ll uncontrollably barf up their guts.” She says, gagging at the thought of any of them.

As you reach the end of an underpass, you both spot a crowd of people hanging around the end of a road.

You both look at each other in curiosity before approaching the end of the crowd, noticing how the people that stopped were only kids from your school.

Both you and Wonhee stand on your tiptoes to see what was stopping them, only to see a whole crowd of Hwimun uniforms on the other side.

Two boys, one from each school standing right in the middle of everyone.

Phones were already pulled out, and a few kids were already looking excited for some reason.

You recognise the one standing in your uniform.

Kang Seomun was the school’s student council president, a smiley guy who was strict about a lot of things, but was always kind enough to give everyone a second chance. So, it was a big surprise to see him right in the middle of the encircled crowd, his expression dark and fists clenched.

“What did you say about our school?” He suddenly asks.

Kang Seomun was also very proud to be the school’s president–you remember that he was always very excited when he talked at the morning assembly’s.

The guy from the other school chuckles, shaking his head.

“I said that you were all poor and dirty pigs. Did you hear that?” He mocks, cocking his head to this side as the guys from his school behind him start snickering.

Before he can say anything else, Seomun rushes in and punches him in the face. He falls to the ground immediately, gasps and shouts falling around the crowd. Everyone starts to back up, but then Seomun grabs him by his shirt, punching him once again. Before he could land another one, the other guy grabs Seomun’s collar and headbutts him, hard.

The boys in front of you started cheering, yelling out ‘ohhs’ and ‘ahhs’ as the two stood up, both holding their arms out like it was a boxing match.

The sounds of their fight silence the entire crowd before kids from the older grades start pulling them apart, shouts and yells echoing through the street.

The street was close to the school, so both you and Wonhee walked off before teachers started running in and talking to everyone who saw it.

Fights like that obviously weren’t common, but everybody knew that if you were even remotely involved in one, the principal would get you in big trouble.

Both of you couldn’t risk your parents getting angry again, so walking away was an easy decision.

“I can’t believe Seomun would be so stupid to fight. I mean, I knew he was always so passionate about our school, but it’s not even eight!” Wonhee sighs, walking into the classroom with you.

She sits just next to you, dumping her snacks all over the table. She hands you a gummy bear packet before tearing into a bag of chips.

“Do you think the teachers have caught them yet?”

She shrugs, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth before loudly crunching on them. “Probably. They were all crowding around it like it was some pop star's show.”

The six hours go by quickly, dread sitting in fast as you both walk to the cram school. The school was surrounded by fun activities, clearly targeting the teens who went there. There were karaoke rooms, arcades, and even a few basketball courts.

Although the real highlight was the small cafe close by, their sign saying they were hiring. You had spotted it yesterday, but didn’t get much of a look as you were in a rush.

You decided you’d apply, and hopefully get the job.

You reach the classroom you were in yesterday, opening the door tiredly.

You take a few steps, only to hear whispers and murmurs around the room.

“They’re from that public school..”

“I can’t believe their school president would attack someone like that.”

“Do you think they’ll beat me up if I talk to them?”

“Idiot! They’re just girls, they’re not going to hurt you.”

You both send each other looks before walking to the back sitting down, very confused. What the hell could they possibly be talking about?

Did someone post the fight?

“I knew your school was filled with idiots.”

You look up immediately, only to find the boy that insulted you yesterday.

What a surprise that you immediately recognised that dreadful Hwimun uniform, making you remember why it was so familiar that morning.

He looks down at you, hands tucked into his pockets. You had no time to respond to his previous remark, more words already escaping from his mouth. “That president of yours obviously seems to speak for all of you.”

He then turns and walks away, leaving you once again stunned.

What the hell was his problem? You didn’t even do anything! Also, how the hell did he even get in front of you?

You silently curse whatever higher being was up in the clouds, probably grinning and laughing at your situation.

He walks back to his friends, all of them laughing at both you and Wonhee.

Wonhee looks at you then at him, a perplexed look on her face. “Who was that?”

You scrunch your nose, irked at how he just seemed so relaxed after blatantly insulting you.