Chapter Text
“When are you going to stop being a disappointment to this family?!”
Mark Lee, is a clever and quite concupiscent black-haired boy. Tomorrow, he will be studying at Young Youth’s Academy, an academy based in a place that Mark can’t seemingly find on the map of his phone. After a quarrel with his family, they decided to send him there as soon as possible to restore their family’s reputation as it didn’t look so good for him to be sleeping around without any serious commitment in mind.
He was barely interested in running the business they had. Neither was education he wanted to embrace, peer pressure. It made him feel uncomfortable with himself and with that, it was easy for his family to make him achieve what they wanted from him. He thought his current high school was okay enough, but it was tasteless ignoble garbage In his family’s eyes, especially his parents.
At times like this, he wished that his older brother was the only child.
“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll do better.” His half-sincere words were acrid in his mouth, the bitterness felt like a cut on the tongue. He bowed before excusing himself to his bedroom.
The red slap mark was still fresh on his skin. He laid his hand softly onto his cheek, it stunned him worse than he thought. His first aid kit was always hiding underneath his bed, and he had to frequently use it, to wrap or apply medicine to his wounds. His skin was flawed.
“At least I’ll be out of here. Anywhere is better than here, I guess.” Mark mumbled as he pats his cheek with a Q-tip soaked in medicine. He hissed and quickly hurried the process.
The next morning miffed Mark. He hated new places, the adjustment, and the traveling. Regardless of those, he figured the abuse would lessen and that he could have a chance at healing. He didn’t have much to pack, his clothes, novels, that should be it. When he opened the drawer of his desk, there were condoms scattered inside, he laughed and threw those in the suitcase. He didn’t think the fun had to end getting into an academy.
His ardor for certain things always shaped his head. He rolled his navy blue suitcase out to the car when he was finished.
The academy was immense and it seemed to be ancient with many of its features made of worn-down dark wood. Tall and intimidating, it was hard to describe, the weather was hazy, and Mark’s vision was hazy. He was dropped off and his parents never looked back.
A man appeared, stepping out of the haze, his figure was short and broad. His milk-white beard brought out his thin pink-tinged lips, and his thin-framed glasses were dark. There couldn’t be an expression seen in his eyes. In a dress coat and pants, all black, Mark believed the senior was too old to be working.
“Welcome to Young Youths Academy. I am the academy’s director.” He introduced himself, his voice was ragged but distinctive.
Mark was escorted in an amble by the director. There was no sound, not even mouse squeaking, only Mark’s breath was an indicator he didn’t go deaf. They walked through many floors, it seemed like an endless loop. The academy was so grand that he worried he had to walk throughout the whole place often.
Finally reaching the eighth floor, the academy director announced it as ‘section eight’. He would have to stay in this section for the remainder of his education and he is forbidden to leave this section. He would also have a homeroom of mixed gender, a dorm with a roommate of the same gender, a bathroom at the end of the dorm hallway, and there would be a cafeteria at section thirteen which was the only exception for leaving his section.
The academy director brought Mark to his homeroom, explaining that they had core rules and that these core rules would be introduced to him later. Judging by what the academy director has said, this academy was stricter than he expected before he came. He shrugged his shoulders and headed inside his homeroom, there would be eleven students in there including Mark like other homerooms the limit was eleven.
“Take a seat, Mark.” The teacher pointed to the dirty-blonde girl near the window. “This is Yu Jimin, you will be sitting behind her.” The skin under the teacher's aging skin crinkled like they were her wrinkles.
“Hi, I’m Mark Lee.” Mark offered his hand to Jimin. She flipped her hair around ever so slightly, a tiny groan left her lips.
“Hi. The class starts at six o’clock, you came at six-fifteen. Since it’s everyone’s first day I guess it’s not a big deal, but they will chew you out if you don’t get here on time.” Jimin warned Mark, not in the most friendly manner possible, it sounded more threatening than anything.
Mark nodded and took his seat behind her. She groaned again, lifting her hand from her thigh. She gestured to him to shake it, vexed when he didn’t understand her hint on the first try.
“Okay, Mark Lee. I’m Yu Jimin, what’s so special about you that you’re here?” She questioned, judging from his appearance he wasn’t a scholarship student like the other kid sitting near them. Well-groomed and handsome, but boys always left her feeling distraught.
“My family wants me to have a good future,” Mark said, his soft voice sounding a bit sorrowful.
“Adorable.” Jimin rolled her eyes and turned back around to face the board.
Mark rubbed his lap with his hands, anxiety liked to rise when he was in a new environment. He took a long breath in and attempted to smile, maybe that could ease him down. Out of the corner of his eye, there were three boys the closest to his left, one of which was a curly brown-haired boy who snuck glances at Mark. When Mark looked back at him, he shifted his whole head to the other side, hiding his embarrassment.
The homeroom echoed with the clink of the teacher’s black heels. She passed out a handbook, containing information about the academy and most importantly the rules.
Mark ran his fingers through the words on the handbook, his eyebrows furrowed, and he felt a greater fear now that his freedom had been stripped away from him.