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The hallway of Virelle Academy smelled like old paper and polished wood—a scent that whispered secrets into the ears of those who knew how to listen.
Rae Myung didn't need to listen. He already knew too much.
He walked down the corridor in his neat, unwrinkled uniform, eyes scanning the doors like a soldier preparing for war. His black backpack hung low on one shoulder, the other bare to the early autumn chill. He looked calm—but his calmness wasn't peace. It was power, tightly restrained.
"Class 2-A," he murmured to himself.
As he slid open the door, the chatter in the room faded. Everyone turned, but Rae didn't flinch under the weight of their stares. He was used to being the subject of whispered rumors, even before transferring.
"That's him," someone whispered. "The scholarship kid from Daehyun High. The one who—"
"—punched a teacher, right?"
That part wasn't true. He hadn't punched anyone.
He'd just stood his ground. And that was enough for people to twist the truth.
"Introduce yourself," the teacher prompted.
Rae's voice was low but steady. "Rae Myung. I transferred here on full scholarship. Don't bother remembering my name if you plan to spread lies."
Silence.
Then a soft chuckle from the back.
Rae's eyes flicked to the source—row four, last seat. A boy sat with his head tilted slightly, blonde hair glowing under the window light. His eyes, nearly silver in hue, shimmered with mischief and something darker—curiosity.
"Welcome to Virelle," the boy said, voice as smooth as violin strings. "We've been... dying to meet you."
Rae ignored him, but the boy's gaze followed as he took the empty seat next to the window—two rows away.
Later, he'd learn the boy's name.
Elior Van Sol.
The valedictorian.
The golden boy.
The genius everyone adored.
And Rae's biggest problem.
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