I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm, groaning as I turned over and stared blankly at the ceiling.
A new day. A new beginning.
Today was the start of high school—
In a new city, a completely different life from the one I'd known.
Excitement? Yeah, no. That wasn't the word I'd use. Exhaustion? Much more accurate.
"Ugh... I really shouldn't have fought those guys."
I muttered as I sat up on the thin mattress laid out on the floor. Now that I was fully awake, last night's memories came flooding back—
The restaurant. The alley. The violence.
I bit my lip.
I didn't like getting into fights. Really, I didn't. But when I saw a senior getting ganged up on like that… I just snapped.
Or maybe that was just the excuse I told myself. Maybe, deep down, I just wanted to hit someone.
"Ugh, stop thinking. Let's get ready."
I stood up, folded the mattress, and dragged myself into the bathroom. After a cold shower and a quick brush, I stepped out wearing my new school's uniform.
J-High School.
There wasn't a strict dress code here, but I'd chosen to wear the uniform anyway. To blend in. To just feel normal.
Soon enough, I was out the door.
"…Please let no one mess with me today."
Because, honestly?
I'm really bad at holding my temper.
---
J-High School was... something.
I couldn't quite put into words how I felt about the place, but one thing was clear—This was no ordinary school.
Jae Won High School was a vocational prep school. Instead of cramming students for college, it focused on real-life skills—offering practical training, hands-on work experience, and more freedom than you'd expect from a school.
There were eight departments, each wildly different from the next.
And guess which one I got thrown into?
"So… Nolan Park, huh? You're prettier than a girl. I almost didn't realize."
My eyebrow twitched at that.
I was in the staff room, standing before a teacher skimming through my file. My supposed homeroom teacher. He was giving me a rundown before tossing me straight to the wolves—which, from what I'd heard, was a pretty generous nickname for the kind of students in this place.
Honestly, I was hoping to just get ignored.
"…I'm a guy."
"Hard to believe."
"You'll have to believe it. Because I am."
We stared at each other in silence.
Yeah. I could already tell we weren't going to get along.
"The name's Gordon Park," he finally said, slapping the file shut. "Homeroom teacher for the Architecture Department."
I raised a brow. "But I signed up for—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he waved off. "Your homeroom teacher's out today. I'm the one filling in. Lucky you. Twenty-two years of experience. You can call me a master." He rubbed his nose proudly.
Someone loves their job a little too much.
"The only problem is the batch I got this year," he muttered, tone shifting. "They're all… unhinged."
The way he actually shuddered at the word made me pause. What kind of first years were these?
"…Right. Well. Nice to meet you, sir. Can I… head to class now?"
He cleared his throat like he'd just come back from a dark flashback. "Yeah. I'll take you there myself. Not sure if you'll fit in, but—try your best."
Wow. Thanks for the morale boost, sir.
"Thanks. I'll… keep that in mind."
We made our way through the halls, quiet except for the muffled drone of lessons behind closed doors. That peace didn't last long. I noticed something from the corner of my eye—a fast-moving blur cutting through the air straight at Mr. Gordon's forehead.
I stepped forward, grabbed it mid-air, and gently pushed him behind me.
"Ah."
I blinked at the thing in my hand. A ball?
"What the—?!" Gordon staggered, red-faced. Please let that be rage and not a blush. Gross.
"Those little scoundrels! They're at it again!"
"Who?"
"The first years! Those bas—"
He stopped himself mid-swear, inhaled through gritted teeth. Respect. That level of restraint was honestly impressive.
Shaking his head, he stomped ahead.
"Tch. Ignore it. Is your hand okay? That thing was flying fast."
"I'm good. I used to work as a ball boy at a baseball stadium. Pretty used to it."
"Is that so? Then why not go for the Physical Education Department?"
I flushed a little.
Truth was, I was decent at a lot of things—phys ed, baking, even tailoring. But there was one thing I didn't know. Something that led me to the department I chose.
"Because I—"
"Yeah, save it. We're here."
This guy…
Before I could blink, he pushed open the classroom door like a damn gorilla. From the expressions on the students' faces, I could tell he wasn't exactly beloved.
"Quiet down, you damn brats!" he barked. "I'm subbing for your homeroom teacher today."
He motioned me forward.
"We've got a transfer student. Starting today, he's part of the Vocal and Dance Department."
---
"Hey everyone. I'm Nolan Park. Nice to meet you all."
"That's a guy?!"
"He's so cute..."
"Oh my god, we finally have a hottie in our department!"
"Look at those eyes! I'm swooning!"
The reactions were… mixed. Loud. Unexpected. I didn't think people would actually respond positively to me, especially not this enthusiastically. Maybe things really were different in Seoul?
"Quiet down, all of you! Park, take your seat at the back! Don't disrupt my class by standing there gawking!"
"A-ah, y-yes, sorry..."
I mumbled as I adjusted the strap of my bag and made my way to the back of the room. At least it wasn't like my old school—there, the teacher made me stand up and recite an essay on my hobbies. That mess practically painted a target on my back.
Truth is: self-introductions are the number one reason people get bullied. A bitter pill, but I've swallowed it enough times to know.
Letting out a soft sigh, I turned to greet my new deskmate. Might as well make a decent first impression. It's going to be a long year, after all.
"...Hey."
I glanced sideways and gave a small smile. He was shorter than me—which was a first. I'm only 175 cm, and this guy still didn't reach my eye level. Round face, messy hair, and the kind of aura that screamed "please don't look at me."
He looked up, blinking in surprise when our eyes met. I tilted my head, a bit confused.
"Huh? You're talking to me?"
"...Yeah? I mean, there's literally no one else here."
"Oh! I—uh—I'm sorry. I must've dozed off." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered. Couldn't even meet my gaze. What's his deal?
"I'm Duke Pyeon. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise. I'm a week late joining the school, so if you could maybe help me catch up, I'd appreciate it."
"Sure! You want me to take notes for you?"
I blinked.
"Uh, no? Just a few pointers would be enough. Why would you write something for me? That's not your job."
He looked at me like I'd just spoken an alien language. Why was he confused?
Before I could ask, something moved in the corner of my vision—a crumpled paper ball flying toward Duke. I reached up and caught it midair without even looking.
I turned my head.
Three guys dressed in dark clothes lounged at the back of the room, grinning like cartoonish bullies. The one in the center—clearly their ringleader—wore sunglasses indoors like he thought it was a personality trait. His smirk faded the moment he saw me catch the projectile mid-air.
Seriously though... Sunglasses? In a classroom? Was he blind, or just stupid?
"Who are they?"
Duke stiffened beside me. He turned his gaze to the board, not daring to glance back.
"Don't make eye contact," he whispered. "That's Vin Jin and his crew. They're... bad news. Just ignore them. Let them have their fun. It's easier that way."
Sure. Easier.
But I kept staring a little too long. My fingers were still gripping the paper.
I could feel it again—the heat rising in my chest. The crackle of anger. That dangerous edge in my gut.
I took a breath. Then another.
No violence, Nolan. This isn't you.
With a quiet exhale, I turned my eyes forward.
Minutes ticked by, and finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I leaned back in my seat with a stretch, stifling a yawn. Mr. Gordon hadn't taught a single damn thing. He just stood there, watching us like we were insects under a microscope.
Not his fault he looked like a K-Drama gangster, though.
"...Nolan, right? Would you like—"
Duke's voice suddenly broke the silence, catching my attention. I turned toward him, curious—but before he could finish, a stampede of girls rushed toward us.
What the—?! Is there a sale or something? If so, I want in!
Before I could even react, I was surrounded. My brain short-circuited.
"Hey, Nolan, right?! Your hair's so pretty. What shampoo do you use?"
"Which school were you in before? Were people there this good-looking too?"
"You don't even look our age… your skin is flawless."
"That shampoo—can we share it? We could use it together…"
What in God's name is happening? I feel like I'm about to be sacrificed to the skincare gods.
A shiver ran down my spine. Desperate, I shot Duke a pleading look. He froze, mouth half-open like a caught deer—then looked away.
...Traitor.
Suddenly—
"...Okay, I get that y'all think he's cute—but is he as handsome as me?"
Groans followed.
"Ugh, it's Vin…"
"Not this again."
"Take your glasses off first, poser!"
Just when I thought I was going to get devoured, a guy in sunglasses casually swaggered over and plopped into Duke's seat, pushing him aside like furniture. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Classic.
Still, I had to admit—he worked like bug spray. The crowd dispersed the moment he arrived. Good to know he was at least useful for something.
"Sup, new kid," he said, flashing a grin and crossing one leg over the other. "You're good-looking. Not as much as me, but hey, close enough. I like handsome guys. Name's Vin. And you?"
"I don't swing that way. And even if I did, I doubt you'd be my type."
I couldn't tell if his brow twitched in annoyance—those stupid sunglasses made him impossible to read. Just take them off, damn it.
"You got some bite, huh?" he chuckled. "I'm just looking out for you."
"Thanks, but I think I'll survive." I smiled politely, but it didn't reach my eyes. I turned to Duke. "Hey, Duke?"
He blinked. "Huh?"
"I'm starving. Let's hit the cafeteria."
I stood up, threw an arm over his shoulders, and led him away from the mess. I could feel the stares burning into my back, but I'd long since learned to tune that out. Social hierarchies, cliques, fake smiles—I wasn't here to play those games.
I choose my friends. And I'm good at it.
"...You sure about this?" Duke asked as we walked, clearly uneasy. "Vin's... not going to like you taking my side. He's got it out for me, and he's the type to hold grudges."
I glanced at him and shrugged.
"He can try," I said with a smirk. "For the sake of a peaceful school life, let's just hope it doesn't get violent."
God, I hope it doesn't.
----
"Vin annoyed him into leaving..."
"Damn, and here I was hoping to go with him to the cafeteria too?!"
"Why did he go with Duke? Does he like hanging out with losers or something?"
The classroom buzzed with whispers as Nolan walked out. Vin watched his back, eyes narrowing as Nolan left with Duke of all people. He didn't get it. Why would someone like Nolan waste his time on a loser like that?
It made no sense. Duke was... Duke. A piggy. Short, fat, pathetic. So what if he could spit a few bars? So what if he had guts Vin didn't?
Why did that even matter?
Why did it matter that Duke doesn't run away like a coward—like he did?
"Stop thinking, idiot. It doesn't suit your stupid."
The voice snapped him out of his spiral. He glanced up to see Mary Kim—his best friend—looking at him with that same lazy smirk. Her pale skin and deep blue eyes gave her a cool, detached beauty. If she wasn't so damn annoying, maybe guys would actually call her attractive. But Vin knew better.
She was nothing but a gorilla in girl form.
Mary plopped down onto Nolan's seat, casually sucking on a lollipop as she shot him a sidelong glance.
"Why'd you have to mess with them? You're acting like a brat again."
"What's it to you? Mind your own damn business."
"Since when has your business not been my business, dumbass? Being a punk really doesn't suit you."
Her voice dripped with casual condescension. She didn't like this side of Vin. But she understood it. This was how he coped, how he kept himself from breaking. She wouldn't take that away from him.
...Unless he lost control. Then she'd kick his ass, no questions asked.
"Tch. Says the gorilla woman who likes tossing people like rag dolls."
Her eyes narrowed. "The hell did you just call me?"
Vin smirked, satisfied with the reaction. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he stood up. Damn, he was off his game today. Something about that transfer kid just—
He shuddered slightly.
There was something off about him. Like a fuse waiting to be lit. Innocent face, sure... but there was something cold behind the eyes. Creepy, even.
"That transfer kid gives me the creeps..."
"Isn't that just you being jealous?" Mary said, tilting her head. "He is pretty, after all."
"So what?! I'm still better-looking than him!"
"…Yeah, keep telling yourself that."
Their bickering spiraled into another argument, but Vin couldn't shake the feeling gnawing at him. Something about Nolan didn't sit right. Something was... wrong.
And soon, that nagging feeling turned into reality.
"Hey, hey! There's a fight!"
"In the cafeteria! Zack Lee and the new guy!"
Vin's head snapped up at the sudden shout, his brow arching.
What the hell was going on now?