— burn and fall like a shooting star ☆

“Or getting you a lawyer if you’re charged with manslaughter…”

“It’s just a class assignment that’s not even part of her grade, she’s not gonna kill him for that, G!” There’s a pause, and then Ryujin adds: “Are you?”

You ponder her words. It is just a class assignment. But because it has been handed out by a professor that has just joined your department, this assignment has become an important one. If freshman year has taught you anything, it is that art professors tend to not judge and grade your projects for the art itself – but rather the impression of you they have carved out based on the initial work you have done in their class. 

Plus, ranking first on this assignment will help with extra credits, which in turn might assist you in dethroning the bane of your existence from the high and mighty first position he has claimed at the end of freshman year.

Yep, that's right. You aren't at the top of your class. It has been a catastrophic nightmare coming to terms with the fact.

The thing is, last year, said bane of your existence, your biggest competition, the one human being that was sent into your life because the universe had beef with the peace, quiet and happiness you wished to live in – otherwise known as Choi Beomgyu – managed to leave a lasting impact on your professor, so much so that he ended up with an unbelievably amazing all stars score for the entire academic year!

He didn’t earn that first place,  he weaseled his way to it like the rodent he is.

Not anymore, though! You will ace this assignment and then you will completely obliterate him in the live sketching assessment your class has tomorrow. The one that actually is part of your grade.

“Babe, this is ridiculous!” Giselle cries out again, audibly smacking your other best friend. “Ryu, tell her this is ridiculous!”

“She can hear you, G, she would’ve listened if she was gonna listen!” Ryujin concludes her one-hundred per cent correct conclusion.

“We’re here, guys, quit whining,” you grumble, finally having reached the end of the hallway.

You come to a gradual pause near the group of people that have been crowding near the notice board and attempt to peek past their shoulders to catch the name at the top of the list. 

Right then, a loud, boisterous laughter echoes around the entire hallway, way too ear-splitting and thundering even over the general noise of the college. It’s harsh, it’s piercing, it’s annoying.

It belongs to Choi Beomgyu.

And you don’t need to look at the results anymore. 

“Heyyy, princess!”

Every single fiber of your being fucking bristles at the yelled lecherous pet name. Okay, maybe it’s not that lecherous, but it doesn’t feel far enough removed from a catcall due to the person it emerges from.

You tell yourself that these scores don’t matter all that much because the project that will actually contribute to your grade is tomorrow. It’s a live painting class where you’ll be judged by an external examiner so you’re pretty confident that you’re going to ace it. 

Beomgyu’s favoritism tactics will not work. 

You will have his ass, obliterate his ego and finally defeat his unbeatable scores.

And yet, you cannot quite stop yourself from waving a hand up in the air and flipping him the bird over your head. 

His gasp travels to you, followed by his friends’ snickers.

“Hey—”

“She’s not in the mood, dude.” Ryujin, always one to help you avoid fights by picking them herself before you can, speaks before you have to. “Fuck off.”

On heavy feet, you proceed to stand before the notice board when the crowd has thinned out a bit.

Rank 1 - 87/100 Rank 2 - 86/100 Rank 3 - 54/100

What the actual fuck.

One point. You and Beomgyu have the difference of one point, one singular fucking point! 

The third ranker has freaking 30+ marks less than you!

You can’t believe that this rodent has topped you by one measly point. This isn’t fair game. This is a straightforward result of all those smiles he passes your professor as if the woman isn’t married and has a son.

“He’s a rat, babe. We know that. It’s not worth it,” Giselle reassures you, and you nod because she’s absolutely right.

“I hate him,” you grumble, trying to glare at the notice board hard enough to incinerate it.

“We know. And we agree. Let’s just go eat, hm?”

The three of you begin to move towards the cafeteria. But of course Beomgyu and his gang follow you there! 

Although it might not be kind to club all his friends into the same category as him. 

Choi Yeonjun is the university’s star hockey player who has offers to play professionally, Choi Soobin is the Broadcasting Legend who has offers from freaking NBA to come cover their games for them, and the other two freshmen seem sort of bright-eyed and innocent. None truly as horrendous as the dude you despise. But their association to him sort of makes them deserving of the disgust you subject them to.

"I'm gonna get you a chocolate croissant to cheer you right up, bestie!" Giselle pats your shoulder with a wide grin. "Just you wait."

"And I shall get you a piping hot cup of hot cocoa to dip it in," Ryujin does a dramatic bow.

You can't help but smile. You're blessed to have these two as your BFFs. You'd cry daily if it wasn't for them. “Thanks, girls.”

“Oof, that's quite a non-deserving treat. But then again – princess truly needs some picking up today.”

The greasy drawl is followed by a cheap snicker, which makes every single hair follicle on your body stand on its end. This little bitch. 

While your best friends are off collecting the goodies they promised, you turn to look at the brat with narrowed eyes. His sleazy smile is on complete display. Oh, how you hate it. How you hate his his perfectly pearly teeth, how you hate the way his hair falls into his squinty, chocolate brown eyes and brings your focus down to his cutely scrunched up nose that—

Okay, fine, what the hell, his smile is gorgeous. It's really hard to hate such an adorably gorgeous smile. And you kinda hate that more.

“What’s that? Princess got no more spicy comebacks left in her? Strange.”

You make a show of rolling your eyes as hard as you physically can. “Unlike you, my braincells are actually useful. I'd rather not waste them thinking of things to say to you.”

“Ooh, that's a good one!”

The response comes in a female voice from the group Beomgyu came from, and you peek over in surprise to see Soobin's girlfriend giving you a thumbs up. An involuntary chuckle leaves you at that, while Beomgyu flashes a scowl at the girl.

“Hey, don't make faces at my girl! Not her fault if you can't hold your own!” Yeji yells at Beomgyu, throwing a thumbs down to boo him for added impact.

This time, your chuckle comes stronger and with a noise that you have to cover up with a cough when Beomgyu turns to glare at you.

“That's all useless discourse. The scores are what truly count. And that's what I've bested you at.”

Oh, he should not have said those words with his nasally, whiny bitchy taunting voice. You take a step closer to him, pursing your lips to stifle the growl that emanates from your chest, and point a finger at his chin. “You and I both know these scores don't count towards our grade, Choi. The real showdown is tomorrow. Let's see who wins that one. Well. I know the result already – but maybe it'd sweep right past you, given how you refuse to step off your stupid, invisible high horse.”

Hoots, hollers and even a whistle echoes from the groups that have gathered around the two of you. Yeonjun's girlfriend begins to clap, and everyone else slowly joins in.

As your lips slowly quirk up into an amused smirk, Beomgyu's ears begin to turn pink then red and then nearly maroon. He drops all the faux smiles he'd been flashing so far, and gives you the dirtiest scowl you've ever seen him sport.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves and have tomorrow answer the question for itself, princess.”

You scoff and step away from the guy, but his words strike you as strange. He didn't claim victory, did he? Like you both always do?

As you walk out of the circle of humans made around the two of you, you're surprised to find Ryujin seated at a table, peacefully scrolling on her phone and sipping away at a packet of juice. A steaming cup of hot chocolate rests in wait before her. Gasping, you stomp up to her, utterly betrayed.

“Bitch. How the hell could you leave me by myself?”

She doesn't even look up from her phone as she pulls you a chair. “You’re more than enough to verbally bitchslap that idiot. I know that.”

“And so do I,” announces Giselle, arriving with a tray that holds a freshly baked croissant, glistening with butter.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you drily mumble, pulling your eatables towards you. “And for the treat.”

“From what I heard, his gang seems to support you more than they do him,” Giselle comments with a grin.

Ryujin laughs aloud at that, jumping into a detailed account of how Hwang Yeji, best friends with Soobin's girlfriend, had made some extra snarky comments which initiated a physical chase between her and Beomgyu until Yeonjun's girlfriend intervened.

You slowly tune out of the enthusiastic conversation, focusing, instead, on your meal. But your thoughts still spiral, making you recall how it didn’t always used to be this way. This animosity between you and Beomgyu? It hadn’t been this venomous – acerbic enough to reduce the other to ashes. No, it was a bit tender. Softer. The two of you had been aces in freshman year, competing because that's all you've done all your lives, but…you didn't hate him, back then. 

He was cute, seemed kind, and was a genius at your subject. 

You'd wanted to befriend him…and maybe more? 

But then came that fateful day when he spilled coffee all over your art project and laughed in your face without remorse. That was when you got to see the reality of who Beomgyu is as a person.

It has been war ever since.

“Are you planning his murder in your head again?”

You blink to find Ryujin squinting at you. Before you can even open your mouth to defend yourself, though, Giselle speaks for you. “Why’d you even ask that when that is all she does…”

This time you allow yourself a whine of frustration. “I’ve got better things to do with my time. Please. FYI, I was thinking about the showcase we have to give tomorrow.” You are partially lying, because though you weren't actively thinking about it right now, it's been a constant thought at the back of your head for two whole days. “If I can do better than him, I will regain the top spot before midterms and that’ll inspire me to do well in the mid-terms.”

You're sure your eyes are sparkling by the time you finish speaking, because Giselle looks absolutely disgusted. “Dude… you’re so fucking weird…”

“Yeah.” Ryujin nods, looking just as disgusted. “I don't know how we even became friends…”

After the cafeteria, Giselle left for her 12 o'clock class and Ryujin went to the gym for lacrosse practice. The sport started at your college just this year and Ryujin is aiming to be its first ace player at Ramison High. (She’s also aiming to attract enough groupie attention to break Hockey star Yeonjun’s record, but that information is classified.)

You had no classes for the day, only visited the uni to check the results, so now you're catching the bus alone. 

Until he is there too. 

Grinning at you. 

Again.

“No, Choi, I would not like to have more of you to ruin my day further.” You briskly get in as soon as the bus arrives.

But Choi Beomgyu being the rodent he is, sneaks his way to the seat right next to you. “Why do you seem to be running away from me?”

You turn to look at him with a deadpan. “You really have to ask?”

“Humour me.”

“You’re…sleaxy. It irritates me.”

“What?” He actually looks offended, which brings a smile to your face that you quickly conceal because you do not want him to misunderstand. “Come on, dude! We're the biggest academic rivals on the planet right now—we're supposed to bond. Become the greatest example of frenemies ever seen. For the history books, y'know?”

“Wow. So addicted to the toxicity, you want more of it. You do realise the word frenemies entails partial friendship as well? And we, here, have none of it.

“Well, we can always amend that.” 

Beomgyu presents his hand before you – smiling a boyish smile, looking at you with eyes that sparkle from beneath his luscious fringe of hair. He’s the epitome of innocent coercion. If you didn’t know better, you might have even considered him cute. Might have allowed yourself the smile of adoration that you firmly conceal behind pursed lips.

But as you do know better, you choose to give a loud scoff, pushing his hand away with your index finger – minimal contact for better focus. “Let's see how you think about that after I beat you at the showcase tomorrow.”

He simply smiles at you. “After you're awfully beaten, you mean.”

You laugh. “You'd have to lock me up in the washroom for me to fail at the showcase, Choi.” 

His eyes squint slightly and he gives you a once over, humming to himself and nodding slightly. “Hmmm.” 

And – what the fuck? “I will report you to fucking dean and get you expelled, Choi! Don’t you fucking dare get any ideas!” 

He cracks one of his loud, boisterous laughters, while your heart races faster and faster still. Slight warmth begins to take over your ears and climb down your neck, which you quickly label as anger, making a show of pulling out your earpods and plugging your ears with them.

But you know you aren’t being honest to yourself. It isn’t just anger – it is embarrassment. Because your heartbeat didn’t just quicken out of anger at Beomgyu’s words – it was also the way his gaze had turned a shade darker when it ran across you.

But he hates you. And you hate him.

As a soft melody begins to play from one of your focus playlists, you shut your eyes and tip your head against the window.

God, you need some air. And some sleep.

Sometimes, while vacantly musing about life during vacant summer afternoons, we end up thinking of the most impossibly bizarre things—like a comet tearing through the sky to end the earth in a single blaze, or our best friend slumping mid-laughter, lifeless before you can even process it. 

We scoff at the images, call them irrational fears. 

And yet, sitting on the icy washroom floor with the lock refusing to budge because it has obviously been twisted from the outside—you realize this is how those absurd fears eventually win.

Checking the time, you realise that your showcase is about to begin in the next five minutes.

If you don’t make it in time…

“Choi fucking Beomgyu! This isn’t a joke!” you scream, hoping that your voice reaches the bastard whom you yourself apparently gave the idea to forbid you from winning.

Because who else would lock the doors to this specific washroom that is popularly used by only the arts faculty girls – one of whom is consistently on campus, around the clock. You bet people didn’t even know this door could be locked.

Except, well, you. And the imbecile you told about it yesterday.

You’re going to gouge his eyes out and cut off his hands. And—

Okay, maybe you’re actually making a grand deal out of one assignment. But this art piece is going to be part of your final grade, it isn’t just a fun little contest. And this is more than just about the grade. 

If you have been locked here to prevent you from appearing for the showcase, this is absolutely vile. It is underhanded, disgraceful and seriously puts whatever is left of Beomgyu’s dignity in absolute jeopardy.

Until now, all your plans for his murder have just been recreational. But if this door isn’t unlocked within the next three minutes, you might actually put one of them into practice.

You’re pretty sure the dumbass has done this as a harmless prank and is currently standing right outside the doors, barely able to hold his giggles.

Your vision is clouded with red hot fury.

“Choi, you fucking asshat! This isn’t funny anymore!”

You’re beginning to sweat a little.

“Choi! Stop this nonsense! The prank is over, okay?”

While you give a groan of frustration, your thoughts suddenly shift.

Because – why are you so certain that this is just a harmless prank? When has Choi Beomgyu ever been ‘harmless’ towards you?

You swallow past a suddenly dry throat as tears of frustration and despair suddenly spring up in your eyes. No. 

You bang against the door with both fists, crying out for help. 

But no one listens. 

And no one listens for the next fifteen minutes.

Beomgyu has locked you and freaking left.

You aren’t one to concede defeat and so you won’t even allow yourself to frame the sentence in your head, but the truth is that you would have very much rather died trying than be robbed of the chance to even participate. 

How dare he.

Sobs of anger and sadness leave you, wettening your entire face, as you finally succumb to your fate. 

You are going to miss the showcase. 

Beomgyu is going to emerge as topper because he blindsided you, robbed you, cheated you.

And like an utterly blind fool, you didn’t even see it coming.

“What… the fuck?”

Your head whips up at the familiar voice, blurry vision settling on a gaping Giselle. She says your name and you quickly blink, wiping your eyes, and check the time.

It has been two hours since you were locked in. Two hours of crying and wailing.  And a good thirty minutes since the showcase ended.

“What are you doing—are you crying?” Giselle rushes to you, cupping your face as she kneels before you. “What happened—are you okay? Talk to me!”

“I’m fine, I just… I–I got locked in…miss–missed the showcase,” you mumble between hiccups. 

“What? Locked in? How?”

“H–how do you think?” 

Giselle is frowning and looks hesitant, but your sadness has begun to recede and anger has overtaken your entire body. “Hey, wait—”

“I need to go…” You push Giselle’s grasping hands away and storm out of the place.

You find Beomgyu in the cafeteria.

Contrary to your expectation, he’s sitting alone and looks strangely upset. He should’ve been with his gang of buffoons. Should’ve been rejoicing. 

Something is off, but you cannot be bothered right now.

You storm up to him with rage spewing from your eyes.

“You absolute piece of shit, Choi Beomgyu!” comes as a hiss from you as you stand against him.

He looks up in surprise, eyes round and concerned. His shoulders suddenly lower, as if in relief, and he opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t allow it.

“No. Shut your conniving, scheming mouth shut. Are you happy now? Pulled your bitch move and got me and F for the live showcase? Talking so much shit about becoming frenemies and what not and then you stab me in the back like this…”

Tears form in your eyes again, but you keep your focus on the anger.

“I hope you had a good laugh. Just know that I absolutely and irrevocably hate you, Choi. I wish to never ever see your face again. Ever!”

His expressions, from whatever you can see through your curtain of fury, go from concerned to confused to upset to somewhat pissed. 

“Don’t know what I was thinking, expecting better from you. I should’ve known you’re certified evil when you spilled coffee on my most prized piece of art and had a good laugh about it.” Sniffing at the tears that attempt to block your nose, you point a finger towards him. 

“Wait, what?”

You roll your eyes at his blank gaze. “Freshman year. Orientation. There was a girl carrying a huge canvas when you and your group of friends were joking around backstage? You all had coffee cups in your hand, which is why I very politely asked you to move aside – you, Choi Beomgyu, which that stupid neon green suit jacket you wear every week – upended your entire cup of coffee on my artpiece that had taken three months to intricately create.”

Beomgyu gives a theatrical gasp, which just makes you want to punch him in the nose. How arrogantly ignorant.

You exhale in resignation. “Right. You probably don’t even remember any of it happened. Well, spoiler alert, that girl was me.”

“Hey, I—”

“That was one thing, Choi,” you interrupt him. “But this time, you’ve crossed all limits! Locking me in the bathroom was a shitty—” 

Beomgyu suddenly gets up, wraps his hand around your pointed finger and tugs you closer to him. “No! No, no—I didn’t do it! I didn’t lock you…and I didn’t spill coffee on you either, I swear.”

Your remaining words leave you in a gasp. “Right. And why should I believe you?”

His brows are furrowed and lips are pursed. You have never seen him this serious, ever. 

“You should believe me because I’m telling you the truth. And in fact, that whole incident with the spilled coffee and the laughter? It is a royally fucked up misunderstanding. A screw up with the point of view that caused some heavy misinterpretation. Nothing—nothing even actually happened that way.”

“What the hell are you—”

“Let me finish. Please.”

You immediately become silent. Beomgyu has never used the word ‘please’ with you before. 

“Soobin hyung was the one that bumped into you – not me. And it was on accident.” He lets go of your hand to rub both his palms down his face. Then he looks at you with soft brown eyes, pleading. “He was wearing my jacket because he needed one urgently to go on stage and host our orientation…and that is why we were laughing, Because my jacket was two sizes too small on him and looked hilarious. None of us had any idea what had happened with you in the exact timeframe… And though it is shameful that we didn’t realise it, we weren’t being assholes.”

You are frozen in time, mouth dropped open in shock, eyes refusing to blink. The incidents of that evening run through your head like a movie. 

Everything you’ve known for a year has been a…misunderstanding?

Beomgyu’s eyes suddenly widen. “Wait…is this why you’ve been hating me all this while?”

You scoff. “Please. It’s not like you don’t return the sentiment.”

He gives a short laugh, eyes softening. “What are you talking about? I only responded in kind because I thought you were playing around. I didn't know you genuinely—”

“Playing around? Was that what you did today?”

Beomgyu gives a whine of your name. “You have to believe me. I did not lock you in! I – I only like to banter with you because you’re feisty and riling you up is fun… I’d never try to sabotage you. I…I went looking for you in fact… When I couldn’t find you, I sent Giselle to look in the bathroom.”

He went looking for you? He was the one who sent Giselle?

You find the words hard to believe.

But paired with the grimace on his face…you’re having a hard time refusing them. “Wh–Why would you do that?”

“I was concerned, obviously. Competing is no fun if your competitor withdraws, you know?”

You give a reluctant nod of approval, looking away from him, when your eyes catch sight of a file lying on the table he was seated at. You gape. “Wait… did you not make your submission?” 

Beomgyu’s cheeks redden. “I was worried so I got too nervous to present…” 

“Why…would you worry so much about your competitor?" You peer into his gaze that he’s trying to keep away from you. 

You don’t even know what you’re expecting to hear. What you want him to say to you. But you’re definitely very massively unprepared for what he says.

He gives you a smile but it is so tiny and sad that it doesn’t even reach his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I like you. I always have, ever since we first met in junior high. But you’ve always held up this rivalry between us… and you just made your feelings pretty clear too, so…” 

Your breath is caught in your chest. He likes you. He has always liked you. And you had no idea.

He subtly shifts closer to you, looking between your eyes and lips. A warmth runs up your body, and a shiver crawls down your spine. Anticipation. Affection. (Alliteration?!)

But then he bites down on his own bottom lip and exhales, shutting his eyes as if he is giving up, and steps away. “I’m gonna ask Mrs. Tayeon to give us another chance for the showcase… and then I won’t show you my face again, like you asked.”

Oh, fuck. He’s leaving.

He has turned around.

He’s beginning to walk away.

Fuck fuck fuck, you reach out and hold onto his wrist. “Beomgyu, wait!” 

He looks at you over his shoulder, lips rounded and eyes wide. “I… I think this is the first time you’ve said my name,” comes out of his rounded lips in a breathless whisper. 

While he is still absorbing the surprise, you step closer to him and hold his hand between both of your palms. “See now, beomgyu, this is highly embarrassing to confess, but I think I might have had a crush on you during senior high and last year, until… well. The misunderstanding.”

Beomgyu’s eyes light up like fireworks. And then narrow with feline mischief. “Oh? Might have?”

You give a nervous chuckle, allowing him to wrap his other hand around one of your. “Okay, yeah, I actually did…” 

He gives a hiss of disappointment, shaking his head in faux sadness. “Ahhh, so past tense? I just missed my chance, it seems…”

Crying out in irritation, you smack his shoulder with laughter. “Why’re you so annoying? I still do, okay? I really like you and thought you hated me! So please let me—ah!”

You shut up with a yelp when he suddenly gets all in your space, beautiful eyes close to yours and shapely nose nudging your own. “Why’re you still talking when we should be making out?” 

And you nearly want to punch him at that because good god, he really is annoying but good god do she like him so much.

So you follow his taunt by sealing your lips to his, giggling as he wraps his arms around you and holds you to him.

Gasps, claps, whistles and even groans of finally echo around the two of you, but you do not let go until you hear a very familiar voice yell out: Pay up, Ryu!

Pulling away, you twist around to find a disgruntled Ryujin fishing out bills from her jorts’ pockets to hand over to a Giselle who is grinning like the cheshire cat.

You gasp. “You two bet on this?”

“Of course, we did! Easy money.” Giselle smiles with zero guilt. “Never believed you when you talked about hating his guts. The lady doth protest too much, or whatever Dickens said.”

“It’s Shakespeare, you illiterate bitch. And you,” Ryujin turns to growl at you, eyes spitting pure animosity. “I chose to believe you when you told me you hated him. This is what you get for being a good friend. You lose money.”

“Yep,” comes a defeated mumble from Yeonjun as he comes to join the circle formed around you all. “Never believe your friends when they claim to hate someone.”

Soobin follows with crisp notes in his hand, grinning exactly the way Giselle is.

“Y’all should hi-five,” Beomgyu comments, earning a smack from you.

“Ryujin and Yeonjun might actually kill us! Can you quit being a little shit?”

He turns to look at you with a soft smile. “As if you would have it any other way.”