Archive of Our Own

The first rays of sunlight crept through the cracks in the curtains, casting faint golden lines across the cluttered dorm room. On the far side of the room, a single desk lamp burned stubbornly against the morning light, illuminating Gyuvin’s hunched figure as he stared intently at his laptop screen.

He barely noticed the world around him. The faint click click click of his mouse was the only sound breaking the silence, save for his muttered whispers as he squinted at the dialogue box in front of him.

“Yes, come on, just a little more—”

Gyuvin’s voice was hoarse, the product of a sleepless night. His screen glowed bright, displaying an image he’d seen a thousand times before but never tired of: Matthew, the kind-hearted boy next door love interest of Dream Academy : Love Match.

Matthew’s digital sprite stood in a familiar scene—a moonlit balcony, where cherry blossoms danced inon the wind. His arms were crossed, that trademark smirk on his face. Gyuvin hovered the cursor over the response options, muttering to himself.

“Do I pick the ‘I think you’re amazing’ line or ‘I want to understand you better’… He likes confident answers, but not too confident. Ugh.”

On the bed opposite him, Gunwook groaned loudly.

“You’re still at it?”

Gyuvin froze for a second before sparing a quick glance at his roommate. Gunwook was propped up on one elbow, hair flattened on one side from sleep, wearing the kind of unimpressed expression that Gyuvin had come to know very well.

“I’m almost there,” Gyuvin said, his voice defensive. “I told you, I’m working on Matthew’s rare ending. It’s, like, the hardest one to get.”

Gunwook blinked slowly, as if trying to comprehend why this conversation was happening at what was clearly way too early an hour.

“It’s seven in the morning, Gyuvin.”

“And?”

“And you haven’t even slept, have you?”

Gyuvin didn’t answer. He just turned back to the screen, ignoring Gunwook’s judgmental stare. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it all before—how he needed to sleep more, how staring at 2D boys all day wasn’t “healthy,” or how normal people didn’t get this invested in dating simulation games.

But what did Gunwook know? Gunwook had friends. He had a social life. He could walk up to someone at a party and strike up a conversation without forgetting how to breathe halfway through.

Gyuvin, on the other hand, didn’t really do parties. Or friendships, for that matter. Not because he didn’t want to—he just wasn’t very good at them.

Classes were fine. He wasn’t failing or anything, though he wouldn’t call himself a standout student either. He did his work, sat in the middle row, and kept to himself. If someone asked for a favor, he’d help out—Gyuvin wasn’t rude—but most people didn’t bother asking.

His life wasn’t lonely, per se, but it wasn’t exactly full either. Aside from Gunwook, no one really knew him, and Gyuvin was okay with that. He figured it was just easier this way.

That’s why Dream Academy was his lifeline.

It didn’t matter that Matthew was a character in a game. When Gyuvin played, it felt like he could actually connect with someone. He could say all the right things, pick all the perfect options, and watch as someone like Matthew—the kind of person who’d never look at him twice in real life—smile and fall for him.

“Have you ever considered touching grass?” Gunwook’s voice broke through Gyuvin’s thoughts.

Gyuvin frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Gunwook said, dragging a hand through his hair, “this is getting sad, dude. You’re up all night trying to date pixels. When was the last time you talked to a real person who wasn’t me or, like, a cafeteria cashier?”

Gyuvin huffed, clicking through more of Matthew’s dialogue. “You wouldn’t understand. Matthew’s not just ‘pixels.’ He has charms, okay? He’s caring and very understanding actually.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gunwook flopped back down on the bed, clearly giving up. “Well, good luck seducing your fake boyfriend. Just don’t cry to me when he rejects you for the thousandth time.”

“He won’t,” Gyuvin said stubbornly. “Not this time. I’m prepared.”

Gunwook groaned into his pillow and mumbled something about needing a new roommate, but Gyuvin was too busy focusing on the game to care.

On-screen, Matthew’s expression softened for a fraction of a second—a rare occurrence, and one that sent Gyuvin’s heart racing.

“Thanks!” Matthew said, his voice (or at least, the voice actor’s rendition) smooth and teasing. “You know, I’m starting to like you!”

Gyuvin grinned, triumphant. “See that? He likes me.”

Gunwook didn’t respond. He was already snoring again.

Gyuvin leaned closer to the screen, eyes gleaming. Maybe Gunwook thought he was pathetic. Maybe the rest of the world would think so too. But at this moment, Gyuvin didn’t care.

In Dream Academy , he wasn’t just the quiet, awkward guy from college. He wasn’t the weird kid who didn’t know how to hold a conversation or make friends.

Here, he was someone Matthew actually noticed.

And that made him happy.

🎮

Gyuvin shoved his laptop into his bag and slung it over his shoulder before heading out of the dorm. Gunwook was still snoring like a broken engine, limbs sprawled across the bed. He mumbled something unintelligible as Gyuvin grabbed a half-empty notebook from the desk and quietly slipped out the door.

The campus was already bustling with students. Some walked in groups, chatting and laughing, while others hovered by the coffee carts, scrolling on their phones as they waited for orders. Gyuvin tightened his grip on his bag strap and picked up his pace, slipping through the crowd unnoticed.

First class: Dynamics.

The lecture hall was packed, but Gyuvin still managed to find his usual spot in the middle row—far enough back to blend in, but not so far that he looked disinterested. He flipped open his notebook, pen poised as the professor started writing equations on the board.

Gyuvin listened carefully, jotting down notes without missing a beat. Engineering wasn’t exactly the easiest major, but Gyuvin liked it. There was something comforting about formulas and rules—things that were predictable, unlike people. He was good at solving problems that had solutions written down somewhere, and in his mind, that was enough.

Throughout the lecture, Gyuvin noticed his classmates pairing off and whispering to one another—asking about homework, sharing jokes, or talking about where they’d grab lunch later. He didn’t mind, not really.

“Hey, Gyuvin,” someone said behind him as class ended.

Gyuvin turned, blinking at a guy from his group project. “Oh, uh, hey.”

“Can you send me the latest draft of the report? I’ll clean up the diagrams tonight.”

“Sure,” Gyuvin nodded quickly. “I’ll email it after lunch.”

“Cool, thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

The guy smiled before heading off, leaving Gyuvin alone again. Gyuvin lingered by his seat for a moment, watching as the rest of the class filed out. He adjusted his bag and sighed to himself.

It was always like this. Gyuvin was dependable, a good teammate—no one could deny that. But once the work was done, the conversation ended. He wasn’t someone people asked to grab coffee or hang out with after class.

And Gyuvin didn’t blame them.

He wasn’t exactly “fun” or “easygoing.” In group projects, he’d focus on the task, his words clipped and precise. When people tried to make small talk, his answers were short, too blunt for comfort.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to connect with people. It just felt… hard.

The cafeteria was already full when Gyuvin walked in. The familiar buzz of students laughing and arguing over half-eaten trays filled the space. Gyuvin got his food quickly—rice, some soup, a side of kimchi—and scanned the room for an empty table.

Most spots were already taken, groups of friends packed together, sharing stories of weekend plans or the latest campus gossip. Gyuvin spotted an empty two-seater in the corner and made his way over, ignoring the way his ears burned when he passed louder tables.

He settled into the seat, setting his tray down with a quiet clatter. One of his earphones dangled around his neck, but he didn’t bother plugging it in. Eating was quicker this way.

Gyuvin picked at his food in silence. He wasn’t in a rush, but he never lingered either. He’d gotten used to eating alone by now, even when he occasionally overheard people from his class at the table next to him.

“Did you see that new café near the library? Let’s go after class.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard it’s cute. The barista’s kind of hot, too.”

Gyuvin stirred his soup absentmindedly, eyes fixed on his tray.

It wasn’t that he felt bad for himself. Really, he didn’t. He wasn’t bitter about people having close friends or social lives—it just wasn’t something that came naturally to him. He’d tried a little during freshman year, back when everything still felt new and promising. But conversations would fizzle out. Messages would stop being answered. And Gyuvin learned to stop trying.

Instead, he focused on his studies. He finished projects early. He helped teammates with their parts, sometimes even doing the work for them just to keep things smooth. Being dependable was easier than being likable, so he settled for that.

And then, when all of that got exhausting, he could always return to Dream Academy .

The afternoon lecture was quieter, probably because half the students were dozing off or scrolling on their phones. Gyuvin sat in his usual spot again, eyes flicking between the professor’s slides and his notebook.

About halfway through, his phone buzzed faintly in his pocket.

“Matthew: ‘Hi! Have you eaten already? :)’”

It was the Dream Academy Companion App. The developers had launched it a few months ago as an extension of the game, designed to keep players engaged. The app sent random messages, quotes, and lines from the characters to make the game feel more immersive.

Matthew’s messages popped up on his phone multiple times a day, personalized to feel like he was really talking to Gyuvin—like he was part of his life, even though Gyuvin knew it was all automated. 

Still, Gyuvin’s heart skipped a beat every time he saw a message pop up. He’d downloaded the app because he thought it would make the game feel more “alive.” But deep down, he couldn’t deny the little part of him that wished it was real.

Sad . That’s what Gunwook would say if he saw this.

But Gyuvin didn’t care.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, tapped his pen against the edge of his notebook, and refocused on the lecture.

Life was repetitive, sure. Predictable. But Gyuvin didn’t think that was a bad thing.

He thought about how fun the game was. At least in Dream Academy , things were exciting. Matthew’s words never felt awkward or forced, and the game made him feel like he was enough.

🎮

After a long day of classes and finishing a mountain of assignments, Gyuvin finally collapsed onto his bed. He stretched lazily, allowing himself a small sigh of relief. The grind of college life was demanding, but there was something satisfying about getting things done.

He glanced over at his desk, where his laptop was still open.

Dream Academy sat there, waiting for him. His reward to himself for tackling the day’s workload.

Gyuvin reached for his laptop and booted up the game. The soft music and vibrant graphics filled his screen as the familiar title screen appeared. He smiled to himself, feeling a wave of calm wash over him as the game loaded. It was a familiar comfort—a world where he didn’t have to worry about the weight of his real-life obligations, where love was as simple as making the right choices.

He was just about to click on the “continue” option when the door creaked open. Gunwook, his roommate, walked in, glancing over at Gyuvin with an eyebrow raised.

“You’re back at it again, huh?” Gunwook teased, dropping his bag on the floor and plopping down onto his own bed.

Gyuvin’s fingers froze above the keyboard. “What do you mean?”

Gunwook leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “I’m pretty sure you’ve played this game more than you’ve actually studied. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more into Dream Academy than into… you know, real life.”

Gyuvin’s face flushed slightly, but he quickly recovered, trying to play it off. “I don’t see the harm in it. It’s relaxing.”

Gunwook raised an eyebrow, sitting up now, his teasing expression softening a bit. “Relaxing, huh? Well, as long as you’re not pretending that character is real. I’ve seen the way you look at your phone, Gyuvin. You know that app doesn’t actually talk to you, right?”

Gyuvin bit his lip, feeling the familiar heat rise in his chest. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbled, clicking through the menu to get back into the game. He wasn’t about to explain his whole situation with the Dream Academy companion app. Not to Gunwook.

Gunwook chuckled, shaking his head, but there was a hint of fondness in his voice. “Whatever helps you cope, man. Just don’t get too attached to the pixels, alright?”

Gyuvin didn’t respond right away, his gaze already glued to the screen, where Matthew’s character was waiting for him. It was easier to focus on the virtual world than to explain to Gunwook that sometimes, even the artificial attention felt real.

Gunwook’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “You know, you could actually talk to real people. You’re not completely hopeless when it comes to human interaction…”

Gyuvin let out a soft sigh, but he didn’t look up from the screen. “Maybe. But for now, this is enough.”

🎮

The dorm room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the laptop fan. Gunwook had already fallen asleep, his steady breathing the only indication he was resting on the opposite side of the room.

Gyuvin, however, was still wide awake, his eyes glued to the screen as he clicked through Dream Academy once again. The game was nearly over—he’d replayed this part countless times—but tonight, it felt different. He was nearing the scene where he’d finally made the right choices, where the confession would happen, where Matthew would say the words he’d always dreamed of hearing.

As he clicked through, his thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Gunwook’s earlier words.

“You know that app doesn’t actually talk to you, right?”

Gyuvin bit his lip, a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You could actually talk to real people. You’re not completely hopeless when it comes to human interaction…”

He could still hear Gunwook’s voice, light but caring, hopeful that Gyuvin might find something— someone —beyond the confines of a screen. But the truth was, Gyuvin knew Gunwook was right. The game wasn’t real. Matthew wasn’t real. The app was just a programmed set of lines designed to keep him hooked, to make him feel something that he didn’t feel in his day-to-day life.

As much as Gyuvin wanted to deny it, he knew deep down that the empty space in his chest wasn’t something a game could fix. Still, it was hard to let go.

He glanced up at the screen, where Matthew’s smiling face glowed from the dialogue box. Matthew’s words, even though scripted, felt so much like what Gyuvin wanted to hear from someone real. He couldn’t help but sigh, wishing things could be different.

Suddenly, his laptop screen flickered. At first, he thought it was just a glitch—nothing new for a game that had been running for hours. But then the image started distorting more. The bright colors of the game warped and shifted, becoming static and jumbled.

Gyuvin frowned, reaching out to tap the touchpad, but the screen continued to glitch. Then, before he could react, the screen flashed a blinding white light.

Gyuvin’s breath caught in his throat as the light seemed to swallow him whole, and before he could even process what was happening, he was gone—completely vanished from the dorm room.

Meanwhile, Gunwook stirred, his sleep interrupted by a sudden, sharp flash of light. He groggily rubbed his eyes and blinked into the darkness, confused. The room was still quiet, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock.

“What the…?” Gunwook muttered, still half-asleep. He looked toward Gyuvin’s bed, expecting to see his roommate hunched over his laptop as usual, but the spot was empty.

He blinked again, wondering if he’d dreamt the bright flash, but the room was still dark, and everything seemed normal. Gyuvin’s belongings were still there, untouched.

“Guess he went out for a late-night coffee or something,” Gunwook mumbled to himself, yawning and rolling over to go back to sleep. He had no idea where Gyuvin could’ve gone, but he didn’t think much of it. After all, Gyuvin had a tendency to get lost in his own world.

With that, Gunwook closed his eyes, the flash fading from his mind as sleep quickly overtook him once again.

🎮

Gyuvin’s eyes fluttered open, and immediately, a wave of confusion washed over him. The bright light from his laptop screen was gone, replaced by the soft sunlight of the morning. Blinking rapidly, he sat up, his mind struggling to catch up with the unfamiliar surroundings.

He wasn’t in his dorm room anymore.

Gyuvin’s heart began to race as he took in the scene around him. The air was crisp, a spring breeze lightly ruffling his hair. He was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a bustling campus. But it wasn’t his campus. The architecture around him was too classical, too elegant. The buildings were constructed in a way that felt more like something out of a TV drama than anything Gyuvin had ever seen before.

His gaze shifted down, and he noticed with shock that he wasn’t wearing his dorm clothes. Gone were his comfy hoodie and sweatpants; instead, he was dressed in a pristine, traditional school uniform—the kind you’d see middle to high schoolers wear. The uniform had a crisp white shirt, a navy blue blazer, trousers, and a neat tie, making him feel very confused.

He stood still for a moment, trying to process what was happening. Did I fall asleep? Is this a dream? Or did I hit my head on the wall or something? he thought, running a hand through his hair. But no. This wasn’t a dream. The sounds around him were too vivid, the smells too real. The campus was alive with students walking past him, but none of them seemed to notice him standing there in a daze. He even slapped himself really hard just to ‘wake himself up’. But it really wasn’t a dream—it was real.

What the hell is going on? Gyuvin thought, his mind spinning. His eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings. The campus was stunning, with tall stone buildings, wide walkways, and lush green lawns. The cherry blossom trees in full bloom added a touch of surreal beauty to everything, their pink petals drifting gently in the wind.

Wait a second, Gyuvin thought, his brow furrowing. This isn’t right.

It was early September in Korea—autumn, with the crisp chill in the air and the falling red leaves. But here? It was clearly spring. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, the season all wrong.

His thoughts began to race. What the hell…

Before he could process further, he took a step forward and immediately collided with someone—hard. The force sent him stumbling back, and he caught himself with his hands on the ground, narrowly avoiding a face-plant.

“Ow…” Gyuvin groaned, rubbing his forehead, but then his gaze lifted. His breath caught in his throat as he found himself staring up at a tall, striking figure—someone whose face was all too familiar.

A man, standing well over six feet tall, with sharp features and blonde hair. His piercing brown eyes locked onto Gyuvin’s, a mix of annoyance and cool indifference in his gaze. He was dressed in the same uniform as Gyuvin, his posture impeccable, exuding an air of confidence.

Gyuvin’s mind went blank for a moment. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes traced the man’s face, realizing exactly who this was.

No way.

This man wasn’t just any random student. He was Ricky—the cold, mysterious love interest from Dream Academy .

Gyuvin’s mouth went dry. Wait. No. This isn’t possible…

A rush of realization hit him all at once.

Gyuvin’s hands shook slightly as he stood up, his legs feeling wobbly beneath him. This was it. He was no longer in the real world. He wasn’t just playing the game anymore—he was in the game. He had been transported to Dream Academy.

Ricky, the stoic, distant character he had admittedly never pursued, stood right in front of him. Ricky’s presence was unmistakable—there was no mistaking it, from the subtle arrogance in his posture to the faint aura of mystery that surrounded him.

Gyuvin stared in disbelief, his mind struggling to comprehend the situation. His favorite game, the one he had become so obsessed with, was no longer just a game. He was in it.

And somehow, he had found himself face-to-face with Ricky.

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin whispered under his breath, his voice full of awe and panic.

“I’ve been isekai’d.”

🎮

“Watch where you’re going, idiot,” Ricky snapped, his expression one of clear annoyance, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. The guy had the audacity to roll his eyes before pushing a lock of his messy hair behind his ear, clearly unfazed by the collision.

Gyuvin blinked, recognizing Ricky from the game immediately. Of course, I bump into him first , he thought bitterly. Ricky was one of the love interests in Dream Academy , but unlike Matthew, Gyuvin had no intention of pursuing him. Ricky was the aloof, arrogant, ‘bad boy’ type who often came off as distant and rude in the early parts of the game. Frankly, Gyuvin couldn’t stand him.

“I—sorry,” Gyuvin muttered, instinctively apologizing even though he wasn’t really sorry. It was a reflex, not wanting to make things worse with the game character who already had the attitude of a jerk.

Ricky looked him over for a moment, sizing him up, before scoffing. “You’re the transfer student, huh? You look lost.” His tone was dismissive, but there was something oddly confident about it that Gyuvin couldn’t ignore. Typical Ricky, always acting like he’s the center of the universe.

Gyuvin forced himself to keep his cool, even though his frustration was starting to bubble up. This is just like the game, isn’t it? he reminded himself. He’s acting exactly how he does in the script.

“I’m not lost,” Gyuvin shot back, more out of reflex than anything. “I know where I’m going.”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Whatever. Don’t get in my way.” And with that, he turned to walk off, leaving Gyuvin standing there with a slight scowl on his face.

Gyuvin let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. This is the first love interest I meet? He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. And people actually like this guy?

🎮

Gyuvin stumbled to a nearby bench, feeling his legs give way as his mind raced. He collapsed onto the cool seat, his head spinning. He stared down at his uniform, still in disbelief. This… this can’t be real, can it?

The campus around him buzzed with life. Students walked by, chatting with each other, oblivious to the chaos that had just erupted in his world. The cherry blossoms in the distance fluttered gently in the spring breeze, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

This is it. I’m in the game.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in Dream Academy , the very game he’d spent countless hours playing. How? Why? How did I get here?

At first, there was a rush of excitement.

This is the dream, the ultimate fantasy. I’m living inside the game. I’m in Matthew’s world.

His chest tightened with glee. The thought of being so close to Matthew—one of his favorite characters—was enough to send waves of joy through him. But then, reality came crashing down.

What if I can’t get out?

His heart sank as the gravity of the situation started to sink in. He was trapped here, in this virtual world. The characters, the campus, everything was real. But he wasn’t. He was a human person, and none of this made any sense. He couldn’t stay here forever, could he?

No, no, no…

His thoughts spiraled, panic clawing at his chest. What was he supposed to do? What if he was stuck here for good? How was he supposed to survive in this strange new world? And how could he possibly return to the life he’d known?

His breath became shallow, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. What happened to me? Is this permanent?

He buried his face in his hands, feeling the coldness of the bench seeping into his skin as he tried to compose himself. The initial excitement faded, replaced by the harsh reality of being trapped in a world he didn’t belong to. He was alone. He had no idea how to navigate this place, let alone find a way back home.

After what felt like an eternity of spiraling thoughts, he forced himself to take a deep breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to steady his heartbeat. Focus, Gyuvin. Focus.

Slowly, he allowed himself to calm down. His panic turned to a sort of nervous energy, and he tried to see the silver lining. Well, no one knows I’m gone. Gunwook… he wouldn’t notice. I barely have any friends anyway. At least no one will come looking for me.

He sighed, letting his shoulders relax. And at least here…I could start fresh. A new life. One where Matthew is real.

His mind flashed back to the game. He had played through Dream Academy so many times that he knew it inside and out. He knew the paths, the interactions, and the events that triggered Matthew’s interest. He knew exactly how to get him to fall in love with him.

His heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from fear—it was from excitement. He wasn’t just some passive player anymore. He was in the game, and this was his chance to make it happen for real. Matthew…Matthew could be his.

Wait, I could… I could actually be with him, he thought, a grin tugging at his lips as he began to let the excitement fill him again.

He could do this. He could navigate this world. And this time, it wasn’t just a game—it could be his new life.

His chest fluttered with anticipation. He wasn’t sure how this all happened or why, but one thing was for sure: I’m not going to waste this opportunity.

🎮

Gyuvin had already come to terms with the fact that he was in Dream Academy for real. There was no turning back now. With the initial panic subsiding, he began to formulate a plan—one that would lead him straight to Matthew. He knew exactly what he needed to do. This was his second chance, a chance to rewrite the narrative, to live out the romantic fantasy he’d only dreamed of before. A gift from the gods you could say.

However, Gyuvin also knew that to get to Matthew, he first had to follow the game’s storyline. That meant interacting with the characters and progressing through their arcs, including the ever-charming Zhang Hao, who was the next love interest he had to meet. Gyuvin had no interest in pursuing Zhang Hao—Matthew was the only one for him—but he knew he couldn’t skip over this part of the game’s sequence.

As Gyuvin wandered around the campus, he recalled everything he knew about Zhang Hao’s route. The preppy, friendly, and charming boy was always the first to meet the player after Ricky. Gyuvin could almost hear the dialogue in his head, the welcoming phrases that would come from Hao’s lips, eager to make the protagonist feel at home.

“Alright,” Gyuvin muttered to himself as he walked through the campus grounds, no distractions. Get this over with and then focus on Matthew.

Just as he thought about Zhang Hao, the character himself appeared in front of him, walking briskly as if on cue. Zhang Hao’s eyes brightened when he spotted Gyuvin, and his face immediately broke into a warm, welcoming smile.

“Hey there!” Zhang Hao called out enthusiastically, his voice lively and full of energy. “You must be the new transfer student, right? I haven’t seen you around before. My name’s Zhang Hao, and I’ll be happy to show you around! Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the campus in no time!”

Gyuvin blinked, slightly taken aback by how effortlessly the game’s script was playing out. There was no denying it anymore—he was truly living inside the game. Zhang Hao was acting just as he always did in the first encounter with the player: eager, friendly, and entirely too charming.

“I, uh, yeah,” Gyuvin replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “I’m Gyuvin. I’m still trying to figure things out around here.”

“No problem!” Zhang Hao said brightly, his smile never faltering. “I know it can be a bit overwhelming at first, but don’t worry. I’ll show you all the good spots—where to eat, where the best study spots are, and all that. We’ve got a lot of cool places around here!”

Gyuvin nodded, forcing a smile of his own. “Thanks. That’s really kind of you.”

Zhang Hao’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he gestured for Gyuvin to follow him. “No problem! I’m happy to help. It’s nice to have a new face around here. You’ll fit right in, I’m sure of it.”

As Zhang Hao led Gyuvin across the campus, Gyuvin couldn’t help but feel a little disconnected. He was interacting with the character, but it all felt so… scripted. There was a certain sense of inevitability about it. He wasn’t interested in Zhang Hao, and he certainly wasn’t here to pursue any of the other love interests. But Gyuvin knew he had to follow the sequence to make sure things went smoothly.

Focus on the bigger picture , Gyuvin reminded himself. Matthew is next. Just get through this, and then I can make him mine.

As Zhang Hao continued to enthusiastically explain various spots around campus, Gyuvin nodded along, though his mind was far away, already planning the next steps in his pursuit of Matthew. The preppy boy was a minor detour in the grand scheme of things, and Gyuvin was determined not to get sidetracked.

Eventually, Zhang Hao finished his impromptu campus tour and gave Gyuvin a friendly clap on the back. “Well, that’s about all I can show you for now. If you ever need anything, just let me know! I’m always around!”

Gyuvin forced a smile. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Catch you later, Gyuvin!” Zhang Hao waved and walked off with that same energetic stride.

As the preppy boy disappeared from view, Gyuvin sighed in relief. That wasn’t so bad , he thought, straightening up and looking around. Sorry, Zhang Hao, I don’t have any plans on going your route. I never really liked the idea of the player and you ending up anyway. I’m more of a Zhang Hao and Hanbin shipper.

As he looked around the school thinking of his next move, he couldn’t help but think:

Now, it’s time to focus on Matthew.

Gyuvin took a moment to compose himself before heading off to his next destination, knowing full well that Matthew was just around the corner. He couldn’t let anything or anyone distract him now. This was his shot at a romance that felt like it was ripped straight from the pages of his favorite otome game.

As he moved toward the path where he would next encounter Matthew, his heart began to race with excitement. This was it. He was going to make this work. Matthew would fall for him. He knew it.

🎮

Gyuvin had barely taken a step into the bustling cafeteria when he felt a wave of excitement. This is it, he thought, his heart picking up pace as he scanned the room for the familiar face he’d been waiting for. And there he was—Matthew.

The charming, cheerful, boy-next-door type. Gyuvin had watched him in the game countless times, and now, here he was in the flesh, sitting at a table near the window, casually enjoying his breakfast before the start of classes. He was exactly as Gyuvin had imagined: effortlessly cool, with a welcoming smile that made him a popular choice among the game’s fanbase. Gyuvin could already feel the excitement buzzing in his chest.

As he started walking towards Matthew, Gyuvin recalled the next scene in the game: the main character would be looking at the cafeteria menu, unsure of what to get, and then Matthew would swoop in, ever so charming, offering to help pick out the perfect meal. Gyuvin was eager to play his part—he knew exactly what to say and how to get things started.

But just as he was about to approach, a familiar figure blocked his path. Gyuvin froze, his stomach dropping as he realized who it was.

Ricky. The last person he wanted to see right now.

As though on cue, Gyuvin bumped right into him, the force of the collision caused the hot cup of coffee the person was holding to slosh over the rim, splashing onto his crisp uniform.

“Oh, shit—” Gyuvin blurted, his eyes widening in horror as he saw the coffee stain on Ricky’s perfectly pressed blazer.

Ricky froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his now-stained uniform. His expression twisted into one of pure annoyance, and Gyuvin felt his stomach drop.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ricky muttered, his voice low and venomous. The coldness in his tone was unmistakable, his usual aloofness only amplifying his irritation. He shot Gyuvin a glare, his blue eyes sharp and unforgiving.

Right. I forgot. Before the player could interact with Matthew, they had to cross paths with Ricky—again.

It was a standard part of the game, but Gyuvin was less than thrilled.

I can’t believe I forgot this part, Gyuvin thought, mentally berating himself. I’ve literally spent days on this game, and I still didn’t remember the exact damn sequence of events.

He could almost hear Gunwook’s voice in his head, teasing him: “ Wow, you spent hours, maybe even days on this game, and you still haven’t memorized everything?”

Gyuvin immediately began to apologize, his face flushed. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Ricky cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “Yeah, I can see that. You’ve made your point,” he snapped, his gaze still locked on the stain. He glanced at Gyuvin again, his lips curling into a disdainful smirk. “Just don’t think for a second that I’m impressed by your clumsiness.”

Gyuvin froze, unsure of how to react. The arrogance in Ricky’s tone made his stomach twist. He had known of Ricky’s cold persona in the game, but now that he was facing it firsthand, it was far worse than he had imagined. The guy didn’t even try to hide his disdain.

With a final scathing look, Ricky turned away, dismissing Gyuvin completely. “Watch where you’re going next time,” he muttered, walking off toward the nearest bathroom, clearly in no mood to entertain any more apologies.

Gyuvin stood there, feeling his heart race. Well, that went terribly. He couldn’t believe how cold Ricky had been, but in a way, it was exactly what he had expected. This was the Ricky everyone talked about in the game—the snobby, arrogant, and aloof character. I really don’t get the hype… Gyuvin thought to himself. He hadn’t liked Ricky from the start, and now he was sure he never would.

But despite the frustrating encounter, Gyuvin quickly reminded himself that he had to stay focused. There was still Matthew, and that was who he was really here for. With a deep breath, he turned back toward the cafeteria tables, determined to find the next part of the game.

Ricky may have been a pain in the ass, but Gyuvin wasn’t going to let that derail him from the bigger picture.

🎮

Gyuvin stood by the counter, still reeling from his unfortunate run-in with Ricky. He watched as the arrogant boy walked off, his pride clearly wounded from the coffee spill, but there was no time to dwell on it. His focus shifted back to the game. He knew what came next—the charming boy-next-door love interest was just about to make his entrance.

Matthew was exactly what Gyuvin had been hoping for after his rough start with Ricky. He had always adored Matthew’s character in the game—the easygoing, friendly type who was always there to help, no matter the situation. And now, here he was, in real life, about to make his entrance into Gyuvin’s life. This was a moment Gyuvin had been waiting for.

As Gyuvin hovered near the cafeteria counter, unsure of what to get for breakfast, he couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. The game had programmed this part perfectly—the player never knew what to choose, and then Matthew, ever the considerate character, would come in and offer advice on what to order. It was always a bit of a relief when he did, and Gyuvin couldn’t help but feel that same sense of comfort now, just waiting for Matthew to make his move.

He glanced at the menu again, but his mind wasn’t focused on food. He was still trying to process everything that had happened so far. His first encounter with Ricky had been a programmed disaster, and now he needed to get things back on track. He could feel Matthew’s presence coming.

“Hey, you look like you’re having a tough time deciding,” a warm, friendly voice said from behind him.

Gyuvin turned around quickly, a slight flutter of excitement in his chest. There stood Matthew, looking every bit as charming and kind as he had imagined. He had an easy smile on his face, his eyes shining with that characteristic warmth that Gyuvin loved about him.

Matthew continued, “I’ve been coming here every morning for years now, and I’ve pretty much tried everything on the menu. You look like you’re new around here, so if you want, I can help you pick something out.”

Gyuvin, still caught up in his excitement, felt a surge of happiness at the interaction. Matthew was just as he had hoped—a friendly and approachable person who made Gyuvin feel instantly comfortable.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Gyuvin stammered, forcing himself to steady his breathing. 

“So, what are you feeling? Waffles, bacon and eggs, a veggie wrap, or some yogurt?”

Get it together , he thought. You’ve played this game a dozen times. You know exactly what to do.

Gyuvin’s mind raced as he recalled the perfect dialogue choice for this moment. What was Matthew’s favorite food? He knew this well.

“Got it,” Gyuvin muttered to himself, quickly pointing to the menu. “I’ll take the veggie wrap.”

Matthew’s head turned at the mention of the veggie wrap, and his face immediately lit up. “Wait, really? That’s my favorite too!” he said, his smile growing wider. Gyuvin’s heart raced. He knew this would happen. It was a classic Matthew move, always eager to find something in common.

Gyuvin couldn’t help but grin. He had nailed it. It felt just like the game now, with the dialogue playing out exactly as he remembered. Matthew’s approval was instantaneous, just like he always imagined.

“That’s awesome!” Matthew said with genuine excitement. “I swear, you’ve got great taste. You’ll fit right in here.” His friendly, easygoing nature shone through as he continued, “I’m Matthew, by the way. You’re new around here, right?”

Gyuvin gave a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I’m just getting used to everything.” He tried to play it cool, despite the fact that his heart was still beating wildly from the rush of having Matthew’s attention. “I’m Gyuvin.”

Matthew smiled warmly at him. “Nice to meet you, Gyuvin. If you ever need help around here, don’t hesitate to ask. We’ve got plenty of spots to sit, too,” he said, motioning to a nearby table.

Gyuvin’s excitement grew. This was exactly what he wanted—a smooth, easy interaction with Matthew that made him feel like he was already a part of this world. And he knew exactly what to do next: keep playing it cool, follow the right dialogue choices, and maybe—just maybe—he could make this route even better than it was in the game.

As they moved to the table to sit, Gyuvin couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was falling into place perfectly. He had learned the game’s mechanics, its routes, and now he was living it. He couldn’t wait to see where Matthew’s kindness would lead him.

Gyuvin was in heaven. The conversation with Matthew had gone so smoothly, and they talked about everything—school, food, the campus, and even a few of Gyuvin’s favorite music genres. He couldn’t help but feel like he was living the dream. The boy of his favorite route was sitting across from him, and it felt so surreal. The veggie wrap was surprisingly delicious too for a video game food. It was like everything in the world was finally going right.

But, as with all things in this game, it couldn’t last forever. Gyuvin noticed that Matthew’s gaze wandered to his watch, and the smile faded slightly.

“I’ve got to head to class now,” Matthew said with a slightly apologetic look. “But hey, it was nice talking with you. Maybe we can grab lunch sometime?”

Gyuvin nodded, trying to mask his disappointment. He knew this was coming. After all, the game followed a strict script, and Matthew had to leave. No matter how much Gyuvin had enjoyed their conversation, he understood that there was always a limited window for interactions in the game. Plus, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have plenty of other chances to talk to Matthew later. The game was designed with repeatable routes, after all.

“Of course,” Gyuvin replied with a smile. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Matthew stood up, ruffling his hair in that carefree way Gyuvin had always found endearing. “See you around, Gyuvin.”

“See you,” Gyuvin said, watching as Matthew left the cafeteria. Once Matthew was out of sight, Gyuvin let out a small sigh. He couldn’t help but feel a little bummed, but he quickly snapped out of it. This was only the beginning. There were many more interactions with Matthew—and other characters—coming up.

As he sat there, a thought crossed his mind. Who’s next?

His memory kicked into gear, reminding him of what happened next in the game. Ah, yes—Taerae, the soft-spoken, charming guitarist who played in a band and had a subtle yet undeniable attraction to the player. He’d always enjoyed Taerae’s route in the game, his calming presence and the way he made Gyuvin feel at ease. But Taerae’s route was different from Matthew’s. While Matthew was sweet and charming, Taerae was more reserved, his emotions often hidden beneath his gentle exterior.

Gyuvin knew that the next encounter with Taerae would be in his first class of the day: Music class. He had always enjoyed that part of the game—getting to know Taerae’s quiet personality and learning more about his love for music.

This is going to be interesting , Gyuvin thought to himself, already anticipating the class ahead. He knew the basic interactions with Taerae, but this time, it would be different. He was here, living it. He wasn’t just playing the game anymore; he was part of it.

He grabbed his bag, ready to head to class, and his heart raced with excitement again. There was so much to look forward to in this world—even if Ricky was still in the mix.

After all, it was only the beginning.

🎮

As Gyuvin entered the classroom, his eyes immediately landed on Taerae. The boy was sitting at the back of the room, his guitar case resting beside him. Taerae always looked so effortlessly cool, even in a uniform. His soft-spoken aura drew people in, and his gentle, calm demeanor had always appealed to Gyuvin during his time playing the game. Taerae was his second favorite character after all.

Okay, focus, Gyuvin reminded himself. Matthew is the goal here.

But as he approached Taerae, something about the way Taerae glanced up at him, his expression softening into a gentle smile, made Gyuvin’s heart skip a beat. The real-life interaction felt so much more personal than the game ever did.

“Hey, you’re new here, right?” Taerae asked, his voice warm but reserved. “I’m Taerae, nice to meet you.”

Gyuvin felt his face flush slightly. “Yeah, I’m Gyuvin,” he replied, trying to keep his tone casual. “It’s nice to meet you too. Cool guitar by the way.”

Taerae nodded, his eyes flicking to the guitar beside him. “I’m always happy to meet someone who’s interested in music. Do you play?”

Gyuvin paused. He hadn’t expected Taerae to be this inviting. Okay, don’t get carried away, he reminded himself again. Matthew. Matthew is your focus.

“I play a little,” Gyuvin said, offering a small smile. “Mostly piano, though. Not a lot of guitar skills.”

“That’s awesome,” Taerae said, his smile widening. “Maybe we can play together sometime.”

Gyuvin felt his heart race a little at the thought. He had always loved the idea of jamming with Taerae in the game, but this felt more real. It felt like it could actually happen.

But before he could get too lost in the fantasy, he reminded himself of the plan. Matthew, focus on Matthew.

“So, uh… what’s the class about today?” Gyuvin asked, trying to steer the conversation back to a neutral topic. He wasn’t going to let himself be swayed, not yet.

Taerae blinked, then laughed softly. “We’re going to work on some group projects today. We’ll be pairing up, so… looks like we could be partners? If you’d like.”

Gyuvin blinked. Partners with Taerae? That was unexpected, but it certainly wasn’t something he’d complain about.

“Sounds fun,” Gyuvin said, trying to keep his cool. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement bubbling up, but he tamped it down quickly. It’s just a partnership for the class, he reminded himself. It’s not like this is the start of his route yet.

As they got settled in, Taerae leaned over, his voice low and casual. “I’m really glad to be working with you. You seem really dependable.”

Gyuvin’s heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his face heating up. Did Taerae just say that? But he quickly pushed the thought away. No, no, this is just the game. You’re still on Matthew’s route.

“Thanks,” Gyuvin replied, his voice coming out a little shakier than he intended. “I’ve heard good things about you too.”

Taerae smiled, picking up his guitar and starting to tune it. “We can start whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here, just making sure my strings are right.”

As they worked through the project, Gyuvin found himself enjoying Taerae’s company more and more. He was easy to talk to, and his gentle personality made him feel at ease. The more they interacted, the more Gyuvin realized that, in a different universe, Taerae could be someone he’d want to be with too.

But as the class wore on and their project came to an end, Gyuvin found his thoughts drifting back to Matthew. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted. He had a goal, and he couldn’t afford to lose sight of it.

Focus, Gyuvin. Taerae is nice, but Matthew’s the one you want.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Gyuvin packed up his things quickly. He gave Taerae a smile as he headed out. “Thanks for the project, Taerae. I’ll see you around.”

“Anytime, Gyuvin,” Taerae said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to more classes with you.”

As Gyuvin walked out of the room, he allowed himself to smile a little. Despite his determination to stay focused on Matthew, he had to admit, Taerae was growing on him. But for now, he had to keep his mind on the goal.

🎮

Gyuvin’s day at Dream Academy had already been eventful, but he knew that today would bring two more familiar faces into the fold. He was walking through the hallways, lost in thought about his interactions with Taerae and Matthew when he heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

“Hey, Gyuvin, right?”

Gyuvin turned around to find Hanbin, the council president, smiling at him with a calm but authoritative presence. Hanbin’s reputation as the perfect student was well-known, and it was easy to see why. His smile was genuine, but his posture and the way he carried himself gave off a strong sense of leadership.

“I’m Hanbin, council president. If you ever need any help, just let me know,” Hanbin said, his voice smooth and confident. He had that “I’ve got everything under control” vibe that made him instantly likable.

Gyuvin nodded, smiling in return. “Thanks, Hanbin. I might just take you up on that.”

“Anytime,” Hanbin replied, giving a friendly nod. He glanced around, seemingly assessing the surroundings for a moment, before looking back at Gyuvin. “You look like you’re adjusting well. Not everyone does when they first transfer here.”

Gyuvin smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s definitely a lot to take in. But I’m getting used to it.”

Hanbin’s eyes softened for a moment, his earlier authoritative expression melting into something more genuine. “I’m glad to hear that. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

Before Gyuvin could respond, the sound of footsteps from down the hallway interrupted their conversation. They both turned, and Gyuvin’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Jiwoong walking toward them, his signature confident stride catching everyone’s attention. Jiwoong was a senior, older than most students here, and he had a reputation for being cool, energetic, and a little bit of a troublemaker.

“Hey, Hanbin,” Jiwoong greeted, his voice smooth and teasing, as if he knew exactly how to make an entrance. His gaze shifted to Gyuvin, and he gave a playful grin. “And this must be the new guy everyone’s talking about. Gyuvin, right?”

Gyuvin couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly cool Jiwoong was. His dark, tousled hair, and sharp features gave him a mysterious edge, and it was hard to deny how captivating he was.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Gyuvin said, trying to keep his composure. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous under Jiwoong’s gaze.

“I’m Jiwoong,” he said, offering a playful wink. “If you need help with having fun, feel free to ask me. I’m the expert on everything fun around here.”

Gyuvin chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jiwoong, who had been standing quietly next to them, cleared his throat softly, drawing both Gyuvin’s and Hanbin’s attention. “You two getting along already?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hanbin smiled, his gaze lingering on Gyuvin for a moment longer than necessary. “Of course. We were just talking about Dream Academy and how it’s so much fun meeting new people. Gyuvin seems like he’s got a lot of potential.”

Gyuvin couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “I’m just trying to keep up, honestly.”

The three of them stood in the hallway for a moment, the air comfortable but charged with an underlying tension. Gyuvin’s mind raced as he realized this was the point in the game where the player would have to choose between the various love interests, and the dynamic between the characters started to shift.

He couldn’t help but notice the difference between Hanbin and Jiwoong—Hanbin’s calm, collected, and responsible demeanor, contrasted with Jiwoong’s slightly mischievous charm and aura. The two of them made an intriguing pairing in the game, and now, in real life, Gyuvin couldn’t help but feel drawn to both in different ways.

“Well,” Hanbin said after a beat, breaking the silence. “It’s nice to meet you, Gyuvin. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk in class. But for now, I’ll let you two get on with your day. Jiwoong, I’ll see you later.”

Jiwoong nodded, giving Hanbin a mock salute. “Catch you later, pres.”

With that, Hanbin walked off, his leadership presence still lingering even after he left. Gyuvin and Jiwoong stood there for a moment, the silence between them almost palpable.

“So, Gyuvin,” Jiwoong said, his voice a little quieter now, almost teasing. “How are you liking it here? I hope they’re treating you well.”

Gyuvin felt his heart skip a beat. “Yeah, it’s been good so far. A little overwhelming, but everyone’s been nice.”

Jiwoong smirked. “Well, I’m here if you need anything. Just don’t get caught up with Hanbin’s perfect image of Dream Academy . It’s not all sunshine and rainbows around here, not unless you’re with me.”

Gyuvin laughed, feeling a little more comfortable. “I’m starting to get that vibe.”

As Jiwoong walked off, Gyuvin found himself standing there, a little lost in thought. Hanbin and Jiwoong were so different, but both had something that drew him in. As much as he tried to stay focused on Matthew, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by both of them. By all of the love interests, really. Well, except for a certain someone.

Focus on Matthew, Gyuvin reminded himself. One step at a time.

🎮

The next few weeks at Dream Academy passed in a blur for Gyuvin. As he adjusted to his new life at the school, he found himself tangled up in the whirlwind of interactions with the various love interests, each one leaving a unique mark on his experience.

Gyuvin found himself spending more and more time with Hanbin, offering to help with student council duties. Whether it was setting up school events or organizing meetings, Hanbin’s calm and collected nature made everything seem effortless. Gyuvin couldn’t deny that there was a sense of admiration for Hanbin’s leadership skills, even though he still found himself drawn to other interests. The best part was Hanbin’s genuine appreciation for Gyuvin’s help, often giving him a smile that made Gyuvin’s heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for stepping in, Gyuvin,” Hanbin said one afternoon as they organized a school event together. “You’re doing a great job. You’re more than just a transfer student; you’re part of the team now.”

Gyuvin could only smile in response, though part of him wished that their interactions could stay just as simple and friendly. But he couldn’t deny that Hanbin was making a lasting impression.

Zhang Hao, the preppy, charming boy, was always up for some fun. Gyuvin found himself involved in the school’s bake sale, thanks to Hao’s enthusiasm. As they decorated cupcakes and pastries together, Hao’s upbeat attitude was infectious.

“Here, Gyuvin, try this frosting,” Zhang Hao said, holding up a piping bag with a mischievous grin. “I bet you can’t beat my skills.”

“You’re on,” Gyuvin replied, his competitive side coming out. As they worked, the playful banter between them made the time fly by, though Gyuvin still couldn’t shake the feeling that Hao was too perfect, too eager to make everyone happy. Still, he couldn’t help but enjoy his time with him.

Jiwoong was another love interest who caught Gyuvin’s attention. The senior was always doing something exciting, like skateboarding around campus or pulling off stunts that left everyone watching in awe. Despite his initially intimidating presence, Jiwoong quickly became one of Gyuvin’s go-to hangout buddies.

One afternoon, Jiwoong grabbed a skateboard and tossed it to Gyuvin. “Come on, let’s go for a ride. You’re pretty good at keeping your balance.”

“I’m not sure I can keep up with you,” Gyuvin said, his voice filled with hesitation.

Jiwoong smirked, clearly enjoying Gyuvin’s nervousness. “Don’t be afraid. I’m pretty chill when I’m with someone who can’t keep up.” The wind rushed through Gyuvin’s hair as they skated down the pathway, and despite his nervousness, he couldn’t help but feel a little thrill in being around Jiwoong.

Taerae, the soft-spoken guitarist, was another one who had captured Gyuvin’s interest. They found themselves jamming together after class, playing songs that blended their styles in a way that felt effortless. Gyuvin had always liked Taerae’s routes in the game, and now that he was experiencing them firsthand, he found himself enjoying their sessions even more.

As they played, Taerae would occasionally smile, his concentration softened by the music. “You’re not bad, Gyuvin. I can tell you’ve got a good ear.”

Gyuvin grinned, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment. “Thanks, I’ve always liked music. But you make it even more fun.”

And then there was Ricky. Gyuvin dreaded each encounter with the arrogant, cold, and at times downright snobby character. Every time Ricky walked into a room, it felt like the temperature dropped. Whether it was during class, in the hallways, or at random moments, Ricky’s presence was always heavy and intimidating.

It was almost like Gyuvin was walking through a storm whenever Ricky was around. The way Ricky would brush off his attempts at conversation, the snide remarks, the cold stares—it all made Gyuvin want to escape.

But no matter how much he tried to avoid Ricky, the game had its script. Every so often, Ricky would approach him, making some snarky comment or engaging in a sharp exchange of words.

“Don’t think I don’t see you trying to get all buddy-buddy with everyone,” Ricky said one afternoon, his voice dripping with disdain. “You might want to focus on staying out of my way, Gyuvin.”

Gyuvin clenched his fists but kept his cool. “Noted,” he said, his tone as neutral as possible. I really don’t get the Ricky hype , he thought, rolling his eyes once Ricky turned away. Ricky’s presence really just made him want to pull his hair out.

And lastly, there was Matthew. His main pick. His boyfriend. His husband. The love of his life.

The moments Gyuvin spent with Matthew were always the highlight of his day. Whether it was sitting together during breaks, talking about random things, or just walking around the school’s peaceful field, Matthew had a way of making everything seem right.

One afternoon, they found themselves walking together across the field, enjoying the rare quiet moments of peace. Matthew, with his charming smile and laid-back attitude, felt like the perfect person to be around. Gyuvin had no idea why, but every time he was near Matthew, his worries seemed to melt away.

“I’m glad we could hang out like this,” Matthew said, his voice gentle as they strolled across the field, the cool breeze rustling the leaves.

“Me too,” Gyuvin replied, feeling his heart flutter a little. “This is… nice. I feel like I can just breathe around you.”

Matthew chuckled softly. “I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

As they walked side by side, Gyuvin couldn’t help but feel like this was the one thing he wanted most—more time with Matthew.

The next few weeks passed quickly, and Gyuvin found himself tangled in his interactions with the love interests. As he navigated the twists and turns of the game, it became harder to stay focused on just one character. The growing affection he felt for each of them, excluding Ricky, began to blur the lines between his priorities and his feelings.

But one thing was certain—his heart was set on Matthew. Even as the interactions with the others continued, and even though he had enjoyed their company, Gyuvin knew he had to stay true to what he wanted. He couldn’t let the game, or anyone else, sway him from that path.

🎮

Gyuvin stood in the center of the bustling school courtyard, surrounded by the six love interests, each one waiting for him to make the most important decision of the game. It was the moment every player had been anticipating—the scene where the protagonist had to choose which love interest to help with their respective upcoming school fair activity. The developers had made sure to give every character a fair amount of interaction with the player, giving Gyuvin (and all the other players) the chance to connect with each character before this defining moment.

In theory, the choice was easy for Gyuvin. Matthew . From the very beginning, he knew who he was going to choose. Matthew had always been his favorite character in the game, and after all their moments together—whether it was walking in the school’s field or simply sharing a meal at the cafeteria—Gyuvin felt an undeniable pull toward him. There was no question. It had always been Matthew.

Gyuvin took a deep breath, glancing around at the others. Taerae, with his gentle smile, Zhang Hao, looking as upbeat as ever, Jiwoong, confident and full of energy, Hanbin, standing tall with his air of leadership, and Ricky… Gyuvin’s heart twisted a little at the thought of Ricky. Despite their rocky interactions, it was clear that Ricky’s route, though complicated, was also undeniably compelling to many players. But for Gyuvin? It was never going to be Ricky. He’d never even wanted to start a Ricky route in the first place.

And yet, as Gyuvin began to walk toward Matthew, a strange sensation hit him. His body froze mid-step, and his legs—his very own legs—began to move against his will. He felt a surge of panic flood through him. What’s happening? He tried to stop himself, tried to pivot toward Matthew, but it was as if some invisible force was pushing him in the opposite direction.

This isn’t happening , Gyuvin thought in disbelief. His legs carried him farther and farther from Matthew, and toward the one person he’d hoped to avoid. He could almost hear Ricky’s smug voice in his head. This wasn’t part of the plan. Gyuvin didn’t want to be stuck in his route. His heart raced, the pounding in his chest matching the frantic thoughts racing through his mind. Why am I moving toward him?! He tried to stop, tried to regain control of his body, but it was no use.

Before he knew it, Gyuvin found himself standing right in front of Ricky. Ricky, of course, was as unbothered as always, his usual confident smirk on his face as if he knew exactly what was going on. He leaned in slightly, his gaze cool but amused, as if this was all some sort of joke to him.

“Well well, look who’s finally come to his senses,” Ricky said coolly, his voice dripping with that signature arrogance. “Now, go get my bag from the classroom. Then meet me at the library.”

Gyuvin felt like his head was going to explode. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be a part of Ricky’s route, and yet his body was obeying the game’s commands, following the script exactly as it was written. It was maddening. He was a player in his own body, but it didn’t matter. The game had him trapped. He couldn’t say no. His body was already moving toward the classroom, as if following a script he was powerless to rewrite.

When he reached the classroom, something snapped. He was here—really here, standing in the exact spot he was supposed to be in, the invisible wall of the game pushing him forward. But Gyuvin wasn’t just going to accept this. Not without a fight. He wanted to leave, wanted to break free from this absurd situation, but every step toward the door was blocked. It was as if the game itself was holding him hostage.

His frustration surged as he reached for the door. I just need to get out of here . He grasped the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked harder, but no matter what he did, the door wouldn’t open. It wouldn’t open unless he had the bag in his hands.

But no, Gyuvin refused to go back to it. He couldn’t. He was furious. He didn’t care if the game wouldn’t let him leave until he followed through with this ridiculous task. He wasn’t going to comply.

Still, there was no escaping. The game wouldn’t let him leave without picking up that damn bag. His body was controlled by the program, and all his resistance was futile. No matter how badly he wanted to walk away—go to Matthew, make the right choice— his choice—his body refused to act on it. It was as if there was some kind of invisible force holding him in place, locking him into the scenario.

Frustrated beyond measure, Gyuvin finally stormed over to the desk and grabbed the bag. It felt like a betrayal to everything he had worked for, to everything he had planned. A betrayal to Matthew. But there was nothing he could do. The game wouldn’t let him choose his favorite character.

Gyuvin stood there in the classroom, his heart racing with frustration. The room felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in on him, and his own body betrayed him with every step. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be here, serving Ricky in the slightest. Why is the game doing this to me?! His entire existence in the past few minutes was nothing but a product of forced decisions, trapped in a system that made no sense. He was so close to being with Matthew, the character he had longed for since the beginning, and now—this. This was the game’s sick twist.

But then, a thought struck him like lightning. His phone . He quickly pulled it out of his pocket and began to frantically search through its settings. Maybe there was a way out. Maybe there was an option to reset the game, something to break this loop of forced interactions. He scrolled through the menu—Settings, Inventory, Journal… Nothing. No “Restart Game”. No “Exit to Main Menu”. No way to change his current path. It was as if the game knew exactly what he was thinking and had already blocked any chance of escape.

What the hell?!

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. There was no way to restart the game from here, no option to skip past Ricky’s route and go straight to Matthew. He was stuck. His body was stuck in this preordained route, this ridiculous, forced interaction with the character he could not stand.

A rush of anger flooded through him. He gripped the phone so tightly that it almost slipped from his hands. I don’t want Ricky! I want Matthew! The unfairness of it all gnawed at him. Why now, game?! Why would you suddenly go against my will, I’m the player, aren’t I?!

Gyuvin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He couldn’t just give up. He wouldn’t. There has to be a way out of this, even if it means playing along for a little while. His mind raced as an idea began to form. Once this route with Ricky is done… maybe the game will restart. Maybe that’s the trick.

It clicked.

He could speedrun this dreadful Ricky route. He could get through it quickly—end it before he could even notice—and then, once the game reset, he could finally choose Matthew. He would suffer through the obnoxious, arrogant interactions with Ricky just for a little while, and then be free. This was his only way out. He didn’t like it, but it was the best he could do at this moment.

Speedrun Ricky. Get to the end. The Game Restarts. Choose Matthew. That was the plan.

Gyuvin steeled himself, suppressing the waves of anger and frustration that still pulsed through him. He glanced at the bag in his hands, knowing what was coming next. He had to follow through. It didn’t matter how much he despised this route, how much he didn’t want to be there with Ricky—he had a goal, and he wasn’t going to let the game dictate the rest of his life.

As he turned around to leave the classroom with the bag in his hands, he felt a simmering resolve growing within him.

This was the game’s trap, but I’ll find my way out. Just hold on a little longer. It’ll be over soon. And when it’s over, it’ll be Matthew’s turn.

With a deep, steadying breath, Gyuvin walked back to Ricky, his thoughts already drifting to the moment when the game would finally release its hold on him. He could almost hear the words in his head: It’ll be over before you even know it, Gyuvin. Just finish this whole game and then you can restart. Matthew’s waiting.

🎮

Gyuvin trudged to the library, Ricky’s unnecessarily heavy and ridiculously expensive bag dangling in his hand like dead weight. He’d spent the entire walk here muttering curses under his breath, and now that he was standing just outside the door, he took a moment to straighten up, taking a deep breath.

You’ve got this, Gyuvin. Drop the bag. Don’t make the conversation longer. Choose the lamest dialogues. Get this over with. Easy.

Pushing the door open, Gyuvin scanned the quiet room. It didn’t take long to spot Ricky—because Ricky stood out anywhere. He was leaning against a table by the window, bathed in afternoon sunlight like he was in the middle of a photoshoot. He was  flipping idly through a book, uninterested in everything around him.

Gyuvin rolled his eyes. Of course, he’s just chilling.

With heavy, deliberate steps, Gyuvin stomped his way to Ricky and unceremoniously dropped the bag onto the table in front of him. The thud echoed loud enough to turn a couple of heads.

“Here. Your Majesty’s prized possession,” Gyuvin announced sarcastically, voice dripping with mock respect.

Ricky’s gaze lifted slowly from his book, his expression unimpressed as he eyed Gyuvin first, then the bag. There was a pause, a beat of silence that somehow managds to infuriate Gyuvin even more.

“Took you long enough,” Ricky said coolly, his tone casual but firm—like he was the one inconvenienced.

Gyuvin’s jaw dropped. “I—what? Are you serious? I just carried your bag across campus!”

Ricky didn’t respond, instead unzipping the bag with calm precision. He rummaged for a moment, like he was double-checking that Gyuvin didn’t mess with anything. Then he looked up again, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“The notebook,” Ricky says simply.

Gyuvin blinks. “…What?”

Ricky leaned slightly on the table, his voice slow and pointed—as though explaining to a child. “My notebook. Where is it? It’s not here. It’s still in the classroom. Go get it.”

There was a brief silence. Gyuvin’s brain stopped working for a second, and he just stared.

“You—wait. WAIT. You’re telling me you sent me all the way there, and you couldn’t mention the notebook?” Gyuvin’s voice rose an octave, his arms flailing. “Why didn’t you just tell me to grab everything at once?!”

Ricky shrugged one shoulder, looking completely unbothered. “You didn’t ask.”

Gyuvin sputtered, speechless, his face a mixture of outrage and disbelief. For a moment, he looked like he might actually explode.

“You—what—this— RICKY!”

Ricky lifted an eyebrow at him, as if he was the one being reasonable here.

“Go. Ten minutes. Don’t be late this time,” Ricky said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and walking away without another word.

Gyuvin watched him leave, frozen in place.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. Then louder: “You’re the WORST!”

The only response he got was Ricky retreating back, disappearing between the shelves.

Gyuvin turned toward the door, dragging his feet like a man walking to his doom.

“This game hates me. It hates me,” Gyuvin ranted to himself, arms flailing dramatically as he exited the library. “I swear, if this keeps up, I’ll throw Ricky’s notebook out the window and pretend it got eaten by a wild raccoon.”

He paused mid-step, a thought striking him.

“…Wait, do raccoons even exist in this game?”

He shook his head violently, muttering curses all the way back to the classroom.

🎮

Gyuvin returned to the library with Ricky’s notebook in hand, his irritation bubbling like a shaken soda bottle. He spotted Ricky at the same table where he’d left him, leaning back lazily in his chair with his phone in hand. It was infuriating how relaxed he looked.

“Here’s your precious notebook,” Gyuvin announced dramatically, dropping it onto the table with a thud. The librarian shot him a warning glare from across the room.

Ricky glanced up, clearly unimpressed. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve told me about the notebook earlier, you know!” Gyuvin shot back, keeping his voice just low enough to avoid another librarian death stare. “Would’ve saved us both the trouble.”

Ricky rolled his eyes, completely unbothered. “And miss out on the exercise you desperately need?”

Gyuvin gawked at him, open-mouthed. “Unbelievable. You—” He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath like he was reciting meditation mantras. “Nope. Not worth it.”

Ricky quirked an eyebrow, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Done with your tantrum?”

Gyuvin ignored him, dropping into the chair across the table and slumping down like he’d just run a marathon. “You’re lucky the librarian has a thing against violence.”

“Lucky me,” Ricky said dryly. He flipped open the notebook, skimming the pages, but paused as though deciding something. “You’re here anyway, so you might as well help.”

Gyuvin frowned. “Help? With what?”

Ricky turned the notebook toward him, tapping a blank page. “We’re brainstorming the setup for the stall.”

“Stall?” Gyuvin blinked. “Wait—you’re actually doing something for the school festival?”

Ricky shot him a look. “Obviously.”

Gyuvin narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What kind of stall? A dunk tank where you sit and everyone throws balls at you? Because I’d pay a lot of money for that.”

Ricky exhaled sharply, unamused. “It’s a charity drive.”

Gyuvin froze. “A what now?”

“A charity drive,” Ricky repeated, his tone clipped. “My class is collecting donations—clothes, books, supplies, whatever—for the community center downtown.”

Gyuvin stared at him, processing the words like they were in a foreign language. Ricky? Ricky was heading up a project to help other people? The same Ricky who sent him back and forth like an unpaid servant?

“Wait.” Gyuvin squinted, leaning forward. “You’re telling me… you’re organizing a stall to help actual people?”

“Did I stutter?” Ricky shot back, his gaze sharp.

Gyuvin couldn’t stop staring, slack-jawed. “But why? I mean… you don’t even like people.”

Ricky didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he picked up a pen and started sketching rough notes into the notebook. “It doesn’t matter if I like people or not. It’s for the community center. They need the support.”

Gyuvin blinked, trying to reconcile this version of Ricky with the smug, cold figure he thought he knew. “That’s… weird.”

“Why?” Ricky didn’t look up. “Because it doesn’t fit your little caricature of me?”

“Uh… yeah,” Gyuvin admitted. “Kinda.”

Ricky paused for the briefest moment before continuing to write, his tone level. “Well, maybe you don’t know everything about me. Ever thought of it like that?”

Gyuvin opened his mouth, ready with some snarky reply, but nothing came out. Because Ricky had a point. This—all of this—was unexpected. He expected Ricky to do something flashy or self-serving for the festival, not… this. A charity drive? Helping the community center? Where was the cold, arrogant Ricky he’d spent days complaining about?

“That’s… really different,” Gyuvin muttered, more to himself than anything.

Ricky glanced at him, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. “You’re bad at compliments.”

“It’s not a compliment!” Gyuvin said quickly, cheeks heating. “It’s just—surprising.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Ricky replied with the faintest smirk, his attention turning back to the notebook.

Gyuvin sat back in his chair, suddenly feeling like he’d been thrown into an alternate dimension. He watched Ricky jot down ideas, his brows slightly furrowed in focus, his handwriting neat and deliberate. The silence between them stretched out, and for once, Gyuvin didn’t feel the need to break it with sarcastic remarks.

It felt weird to see Ricky like this—genuinely engaged in something, genuinely giving a damn.

And Gyuvin didn’t like how it made him feel.

He crossed his arms, frowning as he stared at the notebook. “So, what? You need me to fold clothes or something?”

Ricky shot him an amused look. “You think I’d let you handle clothes? You’d probably mess them up.”

“Hey!” Gyuvin barked, indignant. “I’m perfectly capable of folding things.”

“Sure you are,” Ricky said, but there was no bite to his words. Instead, he slid the notebook toward Gyuvin. “You’re drawing the stall layout.”

Gyuvin blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Ricky tapped the empty page. “You’re sitting here doing nothing, so might as well make yourself useful.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one who forced me to sit here in the first place!”

“And yet, here you are,” Ricky said, leaning back with a smug look.

Gyuvin opened his mouth to argue but shut it again with a frustrated huff. “Fine. Whatever. But if this looks terrible, it’s on you.”

Ricky said nothing, just watched as Gyuvin grabbed the pen and leaned over the notebook.

For the next twenty minutes, Gyuvin sketched out a rough blueprint while Ricky dictated measurements and placement ideas. At first, Gyuvin grumbled through every task—throwing in dramatic sighs and sarcastic remarks—but as the plan started to come together, he realized something strange.

They were actually working together.

Gyuvin stole a glance at Ricky, who was scanning the page with quiet focus, occasionally pointing out adjustments or improvements. There was no smugness, no coldness—just someone who genuinely wanted to get something done right.

It was unnerving.

“So,” Gyuvin muttered eventually, breaking the silence. “Why the community center? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Ricky didn’t look up. “No.”

“Then why?”

Ricky paused, his expression unreadable. “I used to go there. When I was younger. And I feel the need to repay them.”

Gyuvin blinked, taken aback. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” Ricky said quickly, almost like he didn’t want pity. “They just helped out when my family really needed help. So I’m returning the favor.”

Gyuvin stared at him, caught completely off guard. He didn’t know what to say, and for once, his usual sarcasm failed him. “That’s… cool,” he said quietly.

Ricky glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Was that a real compliment?”

“No!” Gyuvin said immediately, cheeks flushing. “It was—an observation.”

Ricky smirked faintly. “Sure.”

Gyuvin grumbled under his breath, going back to the sketch, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Ricky had said. It was such a simple explanation, but it changed everything.

Maybe Ricky wasn’t just cold for the sake of it. Maybe there was more to him than Gyuvin had ever bothered to see. A side that he never knew existed, well, because he never played a Ricky route before. He chose every character’s path at least once, everyone’s except Ricky’s. So naturally, he didn’t know anything about Ricky, not even a single idea of what his route’s scenes would be.

And that realization made Gyuvin uncomfortable, and a tad bit regretful. But it didn’t matter. It’s not like he no longer wanted to get it over with and proceed to have Matthew.

“Focus,” he muttered to himself, drawing another line on the page. “Speedrun this. Speedrun.”

Gyuvin followed Ricky across the school campus, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Ricky had been surprisingly efficient in getting everything planned for the school fair’s donation drive, and Gyuvin wasn’t sure what to expect when it came time to actually set things up. He’d half-expected Ricky to casually mention a coffee break at some overpriced café—after all, he was the kind of person who always seemed to be stepping into a perfectly tailored suit while sipping on the latest trendy drink. But, to Gyuvin’s surprise, Ricky had simply said, “We’re setting up now,” with no hint of hesitation.

As they arrived at the designated area for the booth, Gyuvin stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the space. It wasn’t just an empty corner where people would drop off items—it was bustling with energy. A group of students were already assembling around the booth, each carrying bags filled with clothes, books, and even some handmade items. The donations weren’t just a few scattered pieces; it looked like a real effort from the student body.

“Looks like everyone really pulled through,” Gyuvin muttered, unable to hide his surprise.

Ricky was already rolling up his sleeves, coordinating the students, and helping to arrange the donations. His usual aloof attitude had softened into something more focused and purposeful. He was far more approachable now, giving orders with a level of calm efficiency that made Gyuvin realize just how much effort Ricky was putting into this.

“Of course they did,” Ricky replied, glancing back at Gyuvin with his usual cool expression, but there was something different this time. “This wasn’t just a half-hearted idea. I wanted something that could really make a difference, and I’m not one to let things fall apart.”

Gyuvin, still somewhat in awe, grabbed a pile of books that had been neatly placed in a donation box. “I didn’t expect you to be so… serious about this.”

Ricky smirked, clearly aware of Gyuvin’s tone. “You thought I’d just skip out for a fancy latte, huh?”

Gyuvin chuckled, not denying it. “Maybe. You’ve always seemed like the type.”

“Not today,” Ricky shot back. “This is important. It’s not about impressing anyone, it’s about actually doing something meaningful.”

As they arranged the items, more students arrived with donations, placing boxes of clothes and small appliances, all contributing to the cause. Ricky was, as always, the center of attention, but in a way that felt different. Instead of basking in praise, he simply organized, thanked each student with a nod, and efficiently made sure everything was in place. It wasn’t until a particularly large group of students arrived, hands full with donations, that Gyuvin caught himself staring. Ricky was in his element, calm and focused, a stark contrast to the cold, distant persona Gyuvin had come to expect.

“This is… impressive,” Gyuvin said, almost to himself as he sorted through a box of gently used textbooks.

Ricky, still in the middle of a conversation with a student about where to place a donation, gave a small nod without looking at Gyuvin. “People here want to help, Gyuvin. They just need someone to guide them.”

Gyuvin glanced at Ricky, trying to gauge if he was being genuine. His usually sharp edges had been softened today—his cold, indifferent demeanor had been replaced by a quiet confidence. It was almost as if Ricky was a different person altogether, and Gyuvin couldn’t help but wonder how much of what he’d seen of Ricky up until now had been just a front.

“Well, I’m glad I’m here to help,” Gyuvin said, a bit awkwardly, still not entirely sure what to make of this version of Ricky.

Ricky finally turned to him, his smirk back in place but without the usual edge. “Don’t get too soft on me, Gyuvin. You’re here to work, not to play the nice guy.”

Gyuvin smiled back, despite the sharpness in Ricky’s voice. “Right, of course.”

As the day wore on, more students came by, donating everything from old jackets to vintage books. Ricky directed them with a steady hand, ensuring the booth was organized and presentable, even managing to thank each person with a brief, but sincere, compliment. The whole scene felt surreal to Gyuvin—this was the same Ricky who’d always seemed too busy for anything other than his own ambitions, the same one who barely noticed anyone else. But today? Today, he was showing something new—something that was hard for Gyuvin to reconcile with his prior image of Ricky as the cold, untouchable class president.

It was at that moment, as Ricky handed Gyuvin a bag of used clothes to arrange on the table, that Gyuvin had a fleeting thought. Maybe there was more to Ricky than just the person he thought he knew.

And just as he thought that, Ricky did the unimaginable.

He was still pondering when he caught sight of Ricky casually unzipping the sleek designer bag Gyuvin had worked so hard to bring to him earlier that day. For a moment, Gyuvin’s jaw dropped. He was reminded once again that it wasn’t just any bag—it was the kind of luxury item that screamed wealth, with its polished leather and brand-name insignia. Why would Ricky be touching it now?

Gyuvin couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing?” he asked, unable to hide his surprise. Why would he be messing around with something like this in the middle of a donation drive?

Ricky didn’t look up, his fingers methodically removing his wallet, phone, and a few other personal items, all of which he transferred to a much simpler, plain tote bag. “Switching out my things,” Ricky replied casually, as if it was no big deal.

“Why?” Gyuvin asked again, even more confused. He watched, incredulous, as Ricky emptied out the contents of his designer bag.

Ricky’s lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smirk, but this time, there was no mockery in his tone. “This isn’t just a donation drive, Gyuvin,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “It’s an auction too. We’re selling some of the donated items to raise more funds. All the money goes to help the community center.”

Gyuvin blinked, processing the information. He hadn’t expected that. He’d just assumed they were collecting donations, maybe some clothes and books for people in need. But an auction? And Ricky was going to sell off… this?

His gaze flickered to the designer bag that had just been emptied of its contents. “Wait, you’re really selling it?” he asked, his voice thick with disbelief. “That bag? I thought it was… I don’t know, your prized possession.”

Ricky shrugged as he slipped his items into the tote bag with a sense of finality. “It is,” he said nonchalantly, as if the bag had no more sentimental value than a generic backpack. “But it’s not like this bag is my entire world.”

Gyuvin furrowed his brow. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Ricky, but something didn’t sit right. The person he knew from school—well, the person he thought he knew—had always been wrapped up in his own image. Ricky’s sharp, almost arrogant demeanor had suggested someone who had everything he needed and more. But now, Gyuvin was starting to realize that he might have misunderstood the whole picture.

“Yeah, right,” Gyuvin muttered, though there was a lightness in his voice as he tried to make a joke out of the situation. “Well, lucky you. I mean, you’re probably rich enough to buy whatever you want, right? You can easily buy a new bag that looks exactly like that.”

Ricky didn’t react the way Gyuvin expected. Instead of a sharp retort or a dismissive glance, Ricky simply shook his head, looking uncharacteristically serious.

“I’m not rich,” he said flatly. “I don’t know why people think that just because I dress well and carry myself a certain way means I’m loaded. I’m middle class. My parents have stable jobs, sure, but it’s not like we’re swimming in cash.”

Gyuvin blinked, surprised by the honesty in Ricky’s words. The way he said it—it wasn’t boastful, nor was it full of self-pity. It was simply a fact that Ricky had come to terms with over time.

“I work part-time at a café to make extra money,” Ricky continued, his fingers now running over the handle of the tote bag, the luxury item now nothing more than an afterthought. “And, yeah, my parents helped out a little to speed up the purchase, but it was my decision to buy it. I worked hard for that bag.” He paused, eyes softening just slightly as he met Gyuvin’s gaze. “But I’m putting it up for auction, because this… this is more important.”

Gyuvin didn’t speak right away, absorbing Ricky’s words. The notion of Ricky being so hands-on, so grounded in his personal struggles and efforts, felt completely foreign to Gyuvin. He had always thought Ricky had it easy, that his smooth exterior and effortless charm were the result of wealth and privilege. But this side of Ricky? This was something Gyuvin had never seen before.

“What’s more important?” Gyuvin asked softly, his curiosity getting the better of him. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, but there was something compelling about Ricky’s sincerity.

Ricky’s expression shifted as he spoke, and for a brief moment, the mask of aloofness faded. “The community center,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “They helped my family when my dad got really sick a few years ago. The bills were astronomical, and we didn’t know how we were going to pay for it. Without them, we probably wouldn’t have been able to keep him healthy. They stepped in, helped us out, and kept him alive. I don’t think I could ever repay them for that. But this… this is my way of doing something.”

Gyuvin’s heart skipped a beat as he listened to Ricky’s story. He hadn’t known. He didn’t know that the center held such personal significance for Ricky. And here Ricky was, putting his designer bag up for auction—not to impress anyone, but to give back to the people who had helped his family in a time of need.

“I didn’t expect that,” Gyuvin murmured, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions.

Ricky shrugged again, though this time it felt less like indifference and more like a humble acceptance. “Yeah, well, people tend to think I’m just a snobby rich kid. But that’s not really who I am. I’ve worked hard for everything I have, and I’m not afraid to give it back if it helps.”

There was silence between them for a few moments, as Gyuvin absorbed what Ricky had just shared. The entire image of Ricky—the one he’d built up in his mind—had continued to shatter. First the fact that he wanted to give back, and then now he learned the truth that Ricky isn’t actually really wealthy. He had thought of Ricky as nothing more than a snobby, self-absorbed, privileged, untouchable guy, but now… now he was seeing him as someone far more complex.

Finally, Gyuvin spoke, his voice low but genuine. “I had no idea. I… I didn’t think you were like that.”

Ricky gave him a wry smile, the familiar coolness in his eyes returning, but this time it wasn’t harsh—it was just the way he always was. “I know. Most people don’t. But hey, what do you expect from a guy who’s always got his nose in a designer bag?”

Gyuvin chuckled, though it was a softer laugh than usual. The walls he had built up between himself and Ricky were starting to crumble, and this was the second piece. And though he still didn’t fully understand everything about Ricky, one thing was clear: there was more to him than met the eye.

After a few hours of managing the booth, the event was winding down. The donations were all tallied, and the auction was nearing its close. Students wandered around the community center, exchanging goodbyes and heading home. The sense of accomplishment was palpable, but so was the exhaustion from the day’s work.

Gyuvin was helping pack up some of the remaining items when he caught sight of Ricky, standing near the back of the room, his eyes scanning the space. Despite the exhaustion of the day, there was a sense of contentment in Ricky’s posture, as if he was proud of the work they had done. The way his shoulders relaxed for the first time all day, the faint smile on his face, it was like Gyuvin was seeing him in a new light.

He approached Ricky, who didn’t immediately notice him.

“Hey, everything’s wrapping up,” Gyuvin said, trying to break the comfortable silence. Ricky’s eyes flicked to him, and he gave a small nod.

“Yeah, just about done,” Ricky replied, his voice softer than usual. “Thanks for helping out today.”

Gyuvin blinked, a bit taken aback. “You’re actually thanking me? I thought I was just a tool to fetch your stuff.”

Ricky smirked, the usual cocky attitude in place, but it didn’t seem as sharp as before. “I’m capable of gratitude, you know,” he replied, though there was no edge to his words. “Even if it’s a rare thing.”

Gyuvin couldn’t help but laugh a little, but there was something about Ricky’s tone that made him feel more at ease. The days of bristling at Ricky’s every word were starting to feel far behind them.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a moment, with only the quiet sounds of people cleaning up in the background.

Then, Ricky spoke again, his tone turning more serious. “You know, I don’t really talk about my dad much. I haven’t in years, actually.” His eyes glanced away, and for a moment, Gyuvin could sense the walls he’d built around himself.

Gyuvin, sensing the vulnerability in Ricky’s voice, lowered his tone. “Why not?”

Ricky hesitated before responding, his gaze drifting toward the back exit, as if contemplating his words carefully. “I guess I didn’t want people to think I was… weak. I didn’t want to seem like I needed help or sympathy.” He let out a short, quiet laugh. “I’ve always had to be the one holding it together, you know? For my family.”

Three. Strike Three.

There it was again—the quiet, unspoken side of Ricky that Gyuvin had yet to fully understand.

Gyuvin took a step closer, his expression softening. “That’s… really brave. I don’t think I could do that.”

Ricky’s lips quirked, and he looked at Gyuvin again. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t given much of a choice.”

“Still,” Gyuvin said thoughtfully, “you’re doing a lot more than I ever expected. I’m starting to see that… maybe you’re not just the guy who acts like a jerk all the time. There’s a lot more going on under the surface.”

Ricky didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on Gyuvin for a moment longer than usual, as if studying him, before he broke the gaze and looked away, his face flushed slightly—something Gyuvin hadn’t seen before.

“Whatever,” Ricky said, his usual teasing tone returning, but there was a slight vulnerability that couldn’t quite be hidden. “I’m still a jerk at the end of the day.”

Gyuvin smiled, but it was a softer, more genuine one than before. “Yeah, I figured. But you’re not just a jerk, Ricky. You’ve got layers.”

There was a beat of silence before Ricky shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, well, I don’t usually let people see those layers. So don’t go around telling everyone I’m some softie or something. Got it?”

Gyuvin’s smile only widened. “Got it.”

And just like that, the moment shifted. No longer was it just the push-and-pull of conflicting personalities—it was Gyuvin slowly learning more about Ricky through this route.

Gyuvin returned to his dorm at Dream Academy , physically exhausted from the charity event, but mentally even more drained. The interaction with Ricky had caught him off guard. For the first time, he’d seen a side of Ricky that didn’t fit the cold, indifferent persona he’d always assumed.

But Gyuvin couldn’t afford to let that distract him. He wasn’t here for Ricky. The goal was clear: he needed to get through this route quickly and get back to the pivotal moment where he could choose Matthew. That was the only thing that mattered right now. Matthew .

He sighed as he entered his room. He had enough energy for a quick shower, but that was all. His mind was focused on one thing—finishing Ricky’s route, enduring whatever came next, and then finally resetting the game to pick Matthew. He was eager to get it over with. Every moment spent in this unfamiliar territory with Ricky felt like wasted time, but the game wouldn’t let him skip ahead. Unlike in the real world, there was no skipping the dialogues and scenes by pressing the spacebar repeatedly.

Gyuvin dropped his bag at the door and collapsed onto his bed, pulling the blankets over him. He was determined to sleep and skip ahead to the next day, where he’d be forced to interact with Ricky again, get through whatever nonsense the game had in store, and move closer to the end of this route.

As his eyes closed, his mind was already set on the final goal—Matthew. Matthew was the only one who mattered. Nothing was going to change that. Even if Ricky kept surprising him, even if he somehow became more interesting, more… human, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t the one Gyuvin wanted to end up with.

🎮

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Dream Academy , casting a warm glow on the campus. Today is the day of the school fair, the day of the charity auction, and Gyuvin finds himself back in the school hall, once again at Ricky’s side. It had been a week since the donation drive and auction preparations began, and as the event drew closer, the tension in the air had become more palpable.

Ricky, as usual, was preoccupied with his own world. He was focused, his usual distant expression never faltering. There was a certain intensity in the way he handled the items being auctioned — it’s clear that he was invested in making this event a success. But still, he was distant, keeping a little space between himself and the others, even though he was the one organizing the event.

Gyuvin watched from the sidelines, the same unease creeping in. He’s not sure why he was still helping Ricky, or why, despite everything, his mind kept wandering back to the moments when Ricky showed that different side — the one that wasn’t all business and cold indifference. The part of Ricky who cared about something bigger than himself, even if he wasn’t openly affectionate about it.

Ricky caught his eye and gave a small nod, motioning for Gyuvin to come over.

“Make sure the items are in order,” Ricky said, his voice cool and matter-of-fact, like it was just another task to check off his list. “I don’t want anything getting mixed up.” He didn’t offer more than that — no thank you, no warmth, just the directive.

Gyuvin sighed, but he was already in too deep. He moved to the side, double-checking the donation items on the table. There were books, clothes, accessories, and some luxury items — including the designer bag Ricky had donated. It was odd seeing something so expensive among such simple things, but it only added to the gravity of what they were doing. This wasn’t just about raising money; it was about giving back to the community.

As Gyuvin arranged the items, he caught Ricky glancing at the crowd of students filing into the room. They were chatting excitedly, all of them eager to participate in the auction, though none of them seemed to understand the full extent of what this event meant to Ricky.

The crowd began to gather around the auction table, and Ricky stepped forward, taking charge with his usual confidence. He started introducing the first few items, his voice steady and smooth as he talked about each one. Despite the aloof exterior, Gyuvin couldn’t help but notice how everyone listened to Ricky — not just because he was the one in charge, but because there was something commanding about him when he spoke about something he believed in.

As the bidding started, Gyuvin continued to help Ricky with the logistics, moving between the auctioned items and keeping track of the bids. It was a tiring day, but he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. The more time he spent with Ricky, the more he began to understand him. The cold, detached image was just a mask, a layer he hid behind to protect himself, to keep from getting too close. But there was kindness there, and maybe a little vulnerability too.

The final item was the designer bag, and as it was placed in front of the crowd, Gyuvin couldn’t help but glance at Ricky. The look in his eyes wasn’t the same as before — it was softer, almost hesitant. Ricky’s hand hovered over the bag for a moment before he turned to Gyuvin.

“Make sure this one goes for a good price,” he said quietly, almost as though it was personal, well, because it is.

Gyuvin nodded, suddenly understanding just how much this bag meant to Ricky. It wasn’t just an expensive item; it was a symbol of the sacrifices he’d made, and the effort he’d put into making this event happen. And for the first time, Gyuvin felt like he was starting to see the real Ricky.

🎮

Another day, another progression to Ricky’s route. It was late afternoon, and the campus had quieted down. Most students had gone home or to their dorms, but Gyuvin found himself in the library. Not because he wanted to be there, but because Ricky had told him to come. Something about “helping sort materials for the charity follow-up.”

Gyuvin trudged into the library, muttering under his breath. “More charity stuff? Why is this game making me do side quests? Isn’t this supposed to be a love story? All the other characters have scenes in the field or outside of school. What Ricky moment could possibly happen in the library AFTER classes, all while discussing more about the charity?”

He stopped short when he saw Ricky already sitting at one of the long tables, surrounded by books and papers. His usual air of calm aloofness was firmly in place as he scanned a paper, but there was a noticeable tiredness in the way his shoulders slumped.

“Finally. I thought you got lost,” Ricky said without looking up.

“Wow, you’re so welcoming. I feel so valued here,” Gyuvin fired back sarcastically, dropping his bag into a chair and sitting across from Ricky.

Ricky didn’t respond immediately, instead just pushing a stack of books toward him. “Sort these by year.”

Gyuvin huffed but started working. For a while, the only sound between them was the faint shuffling of paper. Gyuvin didn’t mind the silence—he was used to keeping to himself—but today, something felt different. He glanced up at Ricky, who was staring absently out the window now, the distant look in his eyes catching Gyuvin off guard.

“You good?” Gyuvin asked, the words slipping out before he thought about it.

Ricky didn’t answer right away, still looking at the trees swaying outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. “Did you ever notice how people only talk to you when they want something?”

Gyuvin paused, blinking. “Uh… what?”

Ricky turned his gaze back to Gyuvin, his expression unreadable. “It’s nothing. Just… forget I said anything.”

Gyuvin frowned, curiosity piqued. “No way. You don’t just drop something like that and leave it hanging.”

Ricky exhaled softly, clearly debating whether or not to say more. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his usual cool exterior starting to crack. “You asked if I was okay, and the truth is—” He stopped himself, eyes narrowing like he was  choosing his words carefully. “I’m fine. I’m always fine. People just assume I’m cold, so they leave me alone. And that’s fine by me.”

Gyuvin raised an eyebrow. “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”

Ricky looked away again, the faintest flicker of frustration crossing his face. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, just when Gyuvin thought Ricky was going to shut down completely, he quietly continued.

“I didn’t use to be like this.”

Gyuvin froze, falling in silence. He stayed quiet, letting Ricky speak.

“I used to try to make friends, to be part of things. But when you’re the kid who keeps to himself, people don’t really get it. They think you’re weird, or that there’s something wrong with you. I got picked on a lot for being a loner. At some point, I just… stopped trying.” Ricky’s voice stayed even, but there was a raw edge to his words now, like he was letting Gyuvin see a part of himself he rarely shared. “It was easier to act like I didn’t care. Like I didn’t need anyone.”

Gyuvin swallowed hard, the weight of Ricky’s confession settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. Sure, Ricky was cold, distant, and a little hard to read, but Gyuvin never would have guessed it came from a place like this.

“That’s…” Gyuvin started, unsure how to respond. “That sucks. I mean, really sucks.”

Ricky shrugged like it didn’t matter anymore, though Gyuvin could see through it now. “It’s just how things are. People can’t hurt you if you don’t let them get close.”

The words hit Gyuvin harder than he expected because, in a way, he understood them. More than he wanted to admit. Gyuvin looked down at the book in his hands, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the pages. “Yeah. I get that.”

Ricky glanced at him, his expression softening slightly. “You do?”

Gyuvin forced a laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well… not everyone’s cut out to be the popular kid. I spent most of high school eating lunch by myself. Turns out, people don’t really like sitting with the weird guy who talks too much about video games.”

Ricky’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “You? The weird kid?”

Gyuvin rolled his eyes. “Don’t act so surprised.” But his voice was lighter now, the mood shifting as Ricky let out a quiet chuckle.

For a moment, they just sat there, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable. Gyuvin snuck another glance at Ricky and felt something stir in his chest—pity, yes, but also something else. Ricky, for all his cold walls and sharp words, wasn’t so different from himself.

“You know,” Ricky said finally, his voice soft, “you’re not as alone as you think you are.”

Gyuvin’s eyes met his, something unreadable passing between them. He didn’t respond. Once again, Ricky’s cold mask seemed to slip just a little more.

🎮

Minutes became hours, and hours became days. Every day, Gyuvin was constantly bombarded with Ricky’s scenes. He didn’t enjoy it, to say the least, not until the next scenarios that changed absolutely everything.

It was late afternoon again, the sun starting to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the school courtyard. Gyuvin was wandering aimlessly—mostly to kill time before the next “scripted” event in Ricky’s route kicked in. He didn’t exactly know where it would be since he’d never played Ricky’s route, but in this world, he just felt it. Like a pulse that directed him to where he needed to be.

He’d gotten used to the rhythm of the game by now: follow Ricky, complete tasks, rinse, repeat.

“Whatever. Let’s just get through this day.” Gyuvin shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a stray pebble down the path.

Turning a corner, Gyuvin spotted Ricky standing by a tree near the edge of the courtyard. He looked… different. Not cold, not distant—just quiet. Alone, as always, but not in a way that felt intentional this time. Ricky was staring up into the branches, watching something Gyuvin couldn’t see.

Curiosity got the better of him. “Hey.”

Ricky didn’t flinch, though his expression shifted back to its usual guarded calm as he glanced over. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gyuvin strolled over, stopping a few feet away. “What, are you brooding under trees now? That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?”

Ricky rolled his eyes, but there was no bite to it. “You talk too much.”

“Yeah, well, someone has to.” Gyuvin followed Ricky’s gaze upward and finally spotted it—a tiny bird perched on a low branch, preening its feathers. “Oh, it’s a bird. Is that what you’re staring at?”

Ricky didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was softer than usual. “It fell out of its nest earlier. I didn’t want someone to step on it, so I put it back up.”

Gyuvin blinked. What? For a moment, he just stared at Ricky, processing the unexpected confession. Ricky? Cool, unfriendly, “I don’t care about anything” Ricky?

“You helped it?” Gyuvin blurted out before he could stop himself.

Ricky narrowed his eyes slightly, as if annoyed by Gyuvin’s tone. “Is that so surprising?”

“Yes! I mean—no! I mean…” Gyuvin’s voice stumbled over itself as heat crept up his neck. “It’s just, you don’t really seem like the type to—uh—do nice things like that.”

Ricky gave him a look that was equal parts amused and unimpressed. “You really don’t know when to stop talking, do you?”

Gyuvin opened his mouth to argue, but Ricky stepped closer, closing the small gap between them. It’s not much—just a single step—but it was enough to make Gyuvin freeze.

“I don’t do things to prove a point,” Ricky said quietly, his gaze steady as it met Gyuvin’s. “I just do what feels right. Besides, aren’t we past that point where you don’t see me as someone who’s a complete asshole?”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time since Gyuvin got stuck in this game, he  wasn’t sure what to say. Ricky was close enough that Gyuvin could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes, the way the sunlight caught his hair. He suddenly felt like the protagonist of one of those cheesy romance animes where time slowed down and the main character’s heart started pounding for no reason.

No reason at all.

“Uh…right right. Uhm—cool cool, you’re cool—I mean that’s cool, that you helped the bird, and the community center,” Gyuvin managed to croak out, his voice cracking slightly. He stumbled back a step, rubbing the back of his neck to hide the warmth spreading across his cheeks. “That’s—that’s really cool of you, actually.”

Ricky tilted his head, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smirk. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not!” Gyuvin said too quickly, his voice an octave higher than normal. “You’re weird!”

Ricky didn’t respond, instead watching Gyuvin with a look that felt dangerously close to fond.

Gyuvin, on the other hand, was losing it. 

Why is he looking at me like that? And why is my face hot?

Ricky shrugged and turned back towards the tree, as if nothing had happened. “You should head back. You’ll probably get lost wandering around here.”

“Yeah, okay! Fine! Whatever!” Gyuvin sputtered, already half-turned to leave. His heart was still doing that annoying fluttering thing, and he had no idea how to make it stop.

As he rushed away, he caught himself muttering.

Stupid game. Stupid bird. Stupid Ricky.

🎮

It was a typical school day again, and Gyuvin found himself reluctantly dragged along by Ricky to help retrieve some supplies from the storage closet near the gym. At first, Gyuvin didn’t think much of it—he’d been stuck with far worse tasks in this game.

But once they were inside, Ricky reached up to grab something from one of the high shelves, and Gyuvin—distracted by who-knows-what—wasn’t paying attention when a stack of boxes suddenly teetered and tipped over.

THUD.

“Hey!” Gyuvin stumbled back in surprise, bumping right into Ricky as the boxes crashed down around them.

And just like that, the narrow closet became a lot smaller.

Gyuvin froze. Ricky was right there. As in close, close . Chest-to-chest, so close that Gyuvin could feel the faint warmth radiating off Ricky’s body. He swallowed hard, his face immediately going red as Ricky’s calm, stoic gaze met his.

“Watch where you’re going,” Ricky said evenly, but his voice was quieter—maybe because there was barely any space between them.

Gyuvin opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Why couldn’t he think of anything to say? He was so hyper-aware of Ricky’s presence—his cool expression, his stupidly sharp jawline, the faint scent of his cologne—that his brain seemed to short-circuit entirely.

Ricky raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!” Gyuvin blurted out, stumbling over his words like an idiot. “I-I’ll just—uh—move over.”

But moving over wasn’t an option because the closet was too small. Gyuvin shuffled awkwardly, only to bump his shoulder against the shelves and stumble forward—right into Ricky again.

Ricky caught him instinctively, one hand landing on Gyuvin’s hip to steady him.

Gyuvin nearly combusted on the spot.

“Careful,” Ricky muttered, his hand lingering for a second too long before he let go.

Gyuvin felt like his entire face was on fire. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Ricky could hear it. “I—uh—I can stand on my own, thanks,” he stammered, stepping back as far as he could (which wasn’t far at all).

Ricky’s expression didn’t change, but there was a faint twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth—like he knew exactly what was going on in Gyuvin’s head.

“Relax,” Ricky said coolly. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird!” Gyuvin squeaked, voice embarrassingly high-pitched.

Ricky didn’t respond right away, tilting his head slightly, his gaze steady. The silence stretched, and Gyuvin swore it was suffocating him.

Finally, Ricky spoke. “You’re blushing.”

Gyuvin choked. “I’m not—!”

Ricky leaned in just the slightest bit, his voice low and calm. “You are.”

Gyuvin completely shut down. He was pretty sure his brain had left his body at this point. “C-Can we just—just get out of here?!”

Ricky shrugged, finally turning away to push the fallen boxes aside and open the door. “Suit yourself.”

As soon as the door opened, Gyuvin practically bolted out of the closet, gasping like he had been deprived of oxygen. He gripped his chest, face still burning as Ricky followed him out at a much calmer pace.

“Something wrong?” Ricky asked, his tone almost teasing—though his face remained perfectly neutral.

Gyuvin whirled on him, pointing an accusatory finger. “You! You’re—this—ugh!”

Ricky blinked, unbothered. “What?”

“You’re impossible!” Gyuvin yelled before stomping off down the hall, his flustered face hidden by the fact that he was basically fleeing the scene.

Ricky watched him go, lips twitching faintly as if holding back a smile.

“Interesting.”

🎮

Gyuvin’s day in Dream Academy had been exhausting. He spent the morning running errands (as scripted) and helping various NPCs with mundane tasks that should have earned him more in-game currency. He grumbled under his breath, frustrated that Ricky hadn’t appeared even once during all of it.

When he finally found Ricky, the latter was sitting on a bench under a tree, seemingly unbothered by the world. Gyuvin marched up to him with all the exasperation of someone who’d done too many fetch quests.

“Where have you been?” Gyuvin huffed. “I’ve been running around all day! You could have helped me in return as thanks for  helping you before, you know?”

Ricky didn’t even look up from the book he was reading. “Not my problem.”

“Not your—? Ugh, whatever,” Gyuvin muttered. He plopped down next to Ricky, glaring at nothing in particular.

Silence settled between them, but Gyuvin quickly became restless. He shifted on the bench, scratching at his arm where an annoying itch wouldn’t go away.

Ricky finally looked up, his gaze settling on Gyuvin’s arm. “You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Gyuvin glanced down. Sure enough, there was a small scrape on his forearm—probably from when he tripped earlier chasing an NPC kid who dropped a basket of apples.

“It’s fine,” Gyuvin brushed it off. “Doesn’t even hurt.”

Ricky didn’t say anything, closing his book and standing up instead. “Wait here.”

Gyuvin blinks. “Huh? Where are you—?”

Before he could finish, Ricky was already walking away, leaving Gyuvin sitting there, confused.

A minute later, Ricky returned with a small first-aid kit in hand. He set it on the bench and kneeled down in front of Gyuvin, opening it with practiced ease.

“W-Wait, what are you doing?” Gyuvin stammererd, leaning back slightly.

Ricky didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for Gyuvin’s arm, his touch surprisingly gentle as he took hold of his wrist and pulled it forward. Gyuvin froze.

“Hold still,” Ricky said simply.

Gyuvin’s face heated up immediately. Why is he kneeling in front of me like that?! Why is he holding my arm so softly?!

Ricky took out a small antiseptic wipe and started cleaning the scrape. Gyuvin winced slightly, but it wasn’t from the sting—it was from the ridiculously close proximity. Ricky’s head was bent over his arm, his expression calm and focused as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

Gyuvin, on the other hand, felt like he might combust.

“You don’t have to— I-I can do it myself!” Gyuvin protested weakly.

“You’ll do it wrong,” Ricky replied flatly, not even looking up.

Gyuvin opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it when Ricky started carefully wrapping a bandage around his arm. Ricky’s hands were steady and precise, his fingers brushing against Gyuvin’s skin with every movement.

Gyuvin swallowed hard. Why is this so… weirdly intimate?!

“All done,” Ricky finally said, releasing Gyuvin’s wrist and sitting back.

Gyuvin yanked his arm back as if burned, his face flushed crimson. “T-Thanks,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at Ricky.

“You’re welcome,” Ricky replied coolly as if he hadn’t just single-handedly turned Gyuvin into a puddle of embarrassment.

Gyuvin clutched his bandaged arm, his heart pounding in his chest. Why am I freaking out over this? It’s just a bandage! It’s not even a real wound!

He snuck a glance at Ricky, who had already gone back to his book, completely unbothered. The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips, as if he was fully aware of Gyuvin’s internal meltdown.

Gyuvin groaned internally, sinking further into the bench.

I’m doomed.

Ricky had already left, but Gyuvin sat back on the park bench, the evening sky stretching out above him with hues of orange and purple fading into night. The hustle of students starting to wrap up their school day was behind him. He absentmindedly scrolled through his phone, checking his social media, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Ricky.

He had been trying so hard. Going through the motions, collecting “affection points” like some kind of game. He had done everything—running errands, helping with the auction, pretending he wasn’t bothered when Ricky was a little too close. He’d spent hours in Ricky’s company, thinking it would just be a temporary thing. He was only doing it to finish the route, right? To get more affection points so that the ending came as soon as possible. To get through Ricky’s path so he could go back to Matthew.

But then, that gnawing feeling… it wouldn’t go away.

I’m not invested in Ricky’s route , Gyuvin thought. I’m just trying to finish the game.

But the more he tried to convince himself, the more he realized the truth—he wasn’t just trying to earn affection points with Ricky. He had been spending time with him, enjoying their conversations. Ricky’s quiet, aloof nature had turned into something else, something deeper, something warmer. And now… now it was starting to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Every time Ricky’s gaze flickered to him, every time his voice dipped lower in that way that made Gyuvin’s heart skip a beat—it wasn’t just “progressing the route.”

I don’t want to fall for Ricky… I don’t… The thought hit him hard, like a weight settling on his chest. His face flushed with frustration. But I have been, haven’t I? No no, it’s just me “catching” feelings because I’m in the Ricky route. I must be programmed to feel this way even though I really don’t…right? Right?!

The more Gyuvin thought about it, the more confusing it became. He didn’t want to feel like this, not when his heart longed for Matthew even before he got sucked into the game. He was just supposed to be going through the motions—there was no room for this.

His fingers tightened around his phone, but the screen remained blank. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. It was hard to ignore the fact that every time Ricky smiled, it made his pulse race. Or when Ricky said something small,  it stuck with him for hours after. When Ricky brushed past him and their shoulders barely touched… that lingering warmth would stay with him.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this for Ricky. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy being with him. And yet, here he was, on the verge of admitting it. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Because it meant he had to confront the fact that he had been lying to himself for so long.

“Why do I keep thinking about him?” Gyuvin muttered to himself, a soft groan escaping. His mind was a mess, torn between two people, and none of it made sense.

He looked up at the sky, the stars starting to appear one by one. His thoughts felt just as scattered—like a thousand tiny fragments of wishes, none of them being granted. Ricky… Matthew… which one was real? Which one did he really want?

He had no answers. Just questions.

I’m doomed. Really really doomed.

🎮

It was just another day after school, and Gyuvin was lost in thought as he made his way to the locker room. He had finished his classes early and decided to take a quick detour to the gym before heading home. Ricky wasn’t far behind, though Gyuvin hadn’t realized he was trailing him.

Gyuvin stepped into the locker room and was about to open his gym bag when he froze. Ricky was standing just inside the doorway, watching him, his presence as quiet and imposing as ever.

“Ricky?” Gyuvin’s voice came out a little too sharp, a little too surprised. He hadn’t expected Ricky to follow him here.

Ricky didn’t respond right away. His gaze lingered on Gyuvin for a second before he slowly walked in, his movements calculated and calm. There was no rush to his steps, no sign of urgency. Just… that usual detached presence.

“What are you doing here?” Gyuvin managed, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. Ricky, who rarely showed up in places like this, had caught him off guard.

Ricky only glanced at him for a second before his gaze flickered downward, then back up, meeting Gyuvin’s eyes.

“I was just passing by,” Ricky muttered, his voice as smooth as usual. But there was a slight edge to it, something that made Gyuvin feel uncomfortably aware of his proximity.

Before Gyuvin could react, Ricky was standing closer to him, just inches away. Gyuvin’s breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat. Why was Ricky so close all of a sudden? His tall frame was practically looming over him now, a little too close for comfort, and Gyuvin couldn’t figure out why his chest felt tight.

Ricky’s hand brushed past Gyuvin’s shoulder as he reached for the locker beside him. The slight touch was electric, and Gyuvin’s entire body tensed at the sensation. It wasn’t the first time they’d been close, but this time it felt different—more charged, more personal.

“You okay?” Ricky asked, his voice low, but not in a teasing way—just concerned, almost like he was noticing something off about Gyuvin. But his words, paired with his close proximity, made Gyuvin’s head spin.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Gyuvin stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. But his face was already flushing, and his hands felt clammy. What was happening to him? Why was Ricky making him feel like this?

Ricky didn’t move away, still standing in that near-uncomfortably close space, his presence as overwhelming as ever. Gyuvin was acutely aware of how their shoulders were brushing, how Ricky’s every slight movement seemed to send a ripple of warmth through his body.

“Are you sure?” Ricky repeated, his voice a little softer now. There was a hint of something unfamiliar in his tone—something softer than usual, almost like… concern? Was he actually worried about Gyuvin?

“Yeah,” Gyuvin repeated, but it was weak. He wasn’t sure what he was even saying anymore. The proximity, Ricky’s calm gaze, everything about the moment was making him dizzy.

For a moment, Ricky didn’t respond. He just stared at him with that unreadable expression, almost as if he was waiting for something—maybe a reaction, maybe a sign that Gyuvin was feeling the same way.

Without warning, Ricky stepped even closer, so close that Gyuvin could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Gyuvin instinctively took a step back, but Ricky’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, gently but firmly.

Gyuvin’s breath hitched as Ricky’s fingers brushed his skin. The touch, so casual yet so intimate, sent a shockwave through his entire body. Ricky didn’t say anything, just held his wrist for a moment, his thumb absently stroking the back of his hand. It was a simple gesture, but it made Gyuvin’s heart race uncontrollably.

“Ricky…” Gyuvin breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel his face burning, his entire body on edge. His mind was racing, trying to understand what was going on, and why this felt so different.

Ricky let go of his wrist, but only after another long, silent moment. He stepped back just slightly, but still close enough that Gyuvin could feel the heat of his presence. Ricky’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, just enough for Gyuvin to notice, before he turned and started walking toward the door.

“Take care of yourself,” Ricky said, his voice still cool, though there was an odd gentleness in it.

Gyuvin stood frozen, his heart still pounding in his chest, his mind in a haze. What had just happened? What was Ricky trying to do?

Well, whatever that was, it definitely worked. Gyuvin could feel the heat still spreading across his face as he tried to collect himself. But the truth was undeniable now. The soft touch, the quiet concern, the way Ricky had held him—he couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t just thinking about the affection points anymore. He wasn’t just getting the route over with.

He liked Ricky.

More than he cared to admit.

🎮

Gyuvin sat on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. The words had been swirling in his mind for days now, but he couldn’t escape them. I like Ricky. It felt insane to admit, even to himself.

He had come to Dream Academy with one clear goal: Matthew. His heart had been set on Matthew from the beginning, closing off any possibility of anything else. He had pushed everyone away, built walls so high that no one could break through. But somehow, Ricky had done just that.

It had all happened so gradually. First, it was the stiff attitude, the cool indifference that made Ricky seem like the last person Gyuvin could ever care about. But something had shifted. Ricky wasn’t just distant. He wasn’t just cold. He was… different. Underneath all of that, there was something warm, something pure.

The donation drive, the auction, even the way he had quietly cared for that injured bird—it was all evidence of the kindness Ricky hid behind his calm exterior. He didn’t show it often, but when he did, it was like watching someone peel away a layer of armor. Ricky had a gentle heart and a thoughtful nature, and yet he kept it so well-guarded, like he didn’t want anyone to see. He wasn’t just some standoffish character with no depth. He was a person. A very real person.

And that thought made something stir inside Gyuvin.

Ricky’s aloofness had always made him seem so far away, untouchable. But the more Gyuvin got to know him, the more he realized that Ricky wasn’t the cold person he had assumed. There was more to him. So much more.

He finally got the Ricky hype. That was his charm, the warmth hidden beneath the cold.

And then, there was the loneliness. The fact that Ricky, too, had been alone, had felt isolated. It was a quiet realization for Gyuvin. They were so much alike in that sense. It made him feel connected to Ricky in a way he didn’t understand at first. It was like he wasn’t the only one who had ever felt like an outsider.

Gyuvin closed his eyes, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. I misjudged him. I really did. Ricky wasn’t who Gyuvin had thought he was, and it made everything feel so much more complicated. But at the same time, it made everything feel more real.

He liked Ricky. More than he ever expected. More than he had ever thought he could.

He leaned back against the pillow, taking a deep breath. I like Ricky. The thought lingered in his mind, refusing to leave.

But then, in the middle of it all, something caught him off guard. He suddenly realized—he had completely forgotten that Ricky wasn’t real. That he was just a character in a video game.

But despite that, Gyuvin didn’t see Ricky as a set of coded lines or scripted events. He wasn’t just part of a program, a sequence of choices designed to elicit affection from the player. To Gyuvin, Ricky felt like a real person. A real person he genuinely wanted to be with.

The realization hit him like a wave. It wasn’t just that he liked Ricky; it was that, in this moment, he wanted him in his life. Wanted to know Ricky more. Wanted him by his side, not just as a character in a game, but as someone he could be with in the real world. It was unsettling in the best way possible.

Maybe he had been wrong to keep his heart so tightly wound around Matthew. Maybe, just maybe, Ricky was the one who had earned a place there all along.

🎮

Gyuvin stood in the quiet hallway, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He had come to expect the usual routine, the usual interactions, but today felt different. There was a strange anticipation in the air, a sense that something was about to happen.

And then he saw him—Ricky, standing at the far end of the hallway, his usual aloof expression softened by something else. His gaze was intense, fixed on Gyuvin, and for the first time, there was no wall between them. It was like everything had been leading to this moment.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky’s voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Can we talk?”

Gyuvin’s heart skipped a beat. He nodded, trying to keep his nerves in check. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. The thought was almost surreal. In this moment, it felt like everything was falling into place. Ricky was standing here, looking at him with an expression that was not just cold or indifferent, but full of sincerity.

Ricky took a step closer, his usual distance between them shrinking. “I’ve been thinking… a lot,” he began, his eyes meeting Gyuvin’s. “And, uh, I realized something. I’ve been spending more time with you, and… I don’t know, it just… it feels right. You make me feel like I’m seen. You’ve made me feel… like I actually matter.”

Gyuvin felt his breath catch in his throat. He had never expected Ricky to open up like this. Ricky, who had always been so detached, so distant, was standing here, vulnerable in a way Gyuvin had never imagined.

“I’ve grown to like you,” Ricky continued, his voice low but steady. “More than I thought I could. You’ve… you’ve made everything feel different. I know it’s weird, and I know I’ve never really shown it, but… I like you, Gyuvin.”

For a moment, there was silence. The world seemed to hold its breath, and Gyuvin’s heart raced in his chest. This is it. Ricky just confessed. The words echoed in his mind, but his mouth was dry. He had never imagined this moment would come, but now that it had, he couldn’t find the words fast enough.

Ricky was waiting for a response, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those warm, guarded eyes—were soft now, hopeful even. The coldness was gone, replaced by something Gyuvin had never expected. Ricky was real. More real than he had ever thought. And the idea that Ricky liked him back was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gyuvin swallowed, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped closer to Ricky. The distance between them was so small now, and all the walls that had once existed between them felt like nothing. “I… I feel the same way,” Gyuvin finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. The confession felt like a weight had lifted from his chest. “I didn’t expect it, but I like you too, Ricky. More than I can explain.”

Ricky’s expression softened even more, and for the first time, Gyuvin saw a smile that wasn’t hidden behind a mask of indifference. It wasn’t just a smile—it was a real one, full of warmth, a smile that made Gyuvin’s heart race even faster.

“I’m glad,” Ricky said quietly. “I wasn’t sure what you’d say, but I’m glad.”

Gyuvin could hardly believe it. This wasn’t just the end of a route in a game. This was real. Ricky had always been a character in a game, but now… now it felt like they were both real. Like they were actually standing there, in this moment, together.

For the first time since entering Dream Academy, Gyuvin felt at peace. The uncertainty, the confusion—it all faded away, leaving only the certainty that he wanted to be with Ricky. For once, his heart didn’t feel conflicted. He had found someone who truly understood him, someone who had cracked through his walls in a way he never thought possible.

And as Ricky took a step closer, Gyuvin knew that this wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning.

The beginning of something real.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

Gyuvin stood there, his heart soaring as he looked at Ricky, a smile spreading across his face. This was it. They had finally reached this moment—the moment he had longed for. He had always been so sure about Matthew, but now, as he looked at Ricky, everything felt right. Ricky had been cold, distant, even aloof, but in that aloofness, Gyuvin had found something real, something pure. Ricky had grown on him. Ricky had become more than just a character in a game. He was someone Gyuvin truly wanted to be with.

“I’m glad,” Ricky had said, his smile warmer than Gyuvin had ever expected, and now, Gyuvin wanted to take that next step. It’s real now. It’s just the beginning.

“So… what should we do now?” Gyuvin asked, his voice filled with excitement. “Maybe we could grab lunch together? I’d love to spend some more time with you.”

Ricky didn’t respond right away. Instead, his eyes seemed to unfocus, his expression slowly becoming more distant. He repeated the same words over again, as though caught in some kind of loop.

“I’m glad… I’m glad…” Ricky’s voice was almost mechanical, like he was saying it out of habit.

Gyuvin blinked in confusion. His smile faltered. “Ricky?” he called softly. “This isn’t funny. What are you doing?”

But Ricky didn’t respond. He just kept repeating the same line, over and over again, like a broken record.

“I’m glad… I’m glad…”

Gyuvin’s stomach twisted. What’s going on? Why is he doing this? Panic started to rise within him. He stepped closer, trying to catch Ricky’s attention. “Ricky? Come on. This isn’t funny… Stop.”

But Ricky’s voice remained hollow, empty. It was as if the warmth from before had completely disappeared. He was repeating those same words with no emotion, no recognition of Gyuvin’s distress.

And then, something strange started to happen.

Gyuvin felt an odd lightness in his chest, almost as if the weight of his body was being lifted. He looked down and saw his arms becoming faint, fading, like his very presence was slipping away. And to top it all off, he saw something in the distant sky. A message—a prompt telling him that the game is ending in a few seconds. It didn’t say a new game was taking place, it straight up said “Game Over”, as if he wouldn’t be able to go back from the very start. He wouldn’t be able to do it all again.

Wait. What’s happening?!

His heart stopped for a moment, and a cold realization crept into his mind. This is it. It’s game over. I’m… I’m fading away.

The ground beneath him seemed to blur, and his vision began to dull at the edges. Ricky, still repeating those empty words, was becoming less and less clear, as if Gyuvin was slipping further and further away from him.

“No… No, no, no!” Gyuvin cried out, his voice trembling. His eyes were wide with fear as his body continued to dissolve. This can’t be happening! Not now… not when I just started to like him! Not when it just started to feel real!

Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out toward Ricky, desperate, but it was like his body was no longer his own. His hands, his arms—they were no longer solid.

I was so close… I finally found someone… I was starting to feel happy. Why does it have to end here?

Tears streamed down his face, his chest tight with grief. I never thought it would feel like this. I never thought it would hurt so much to say goodbye.

“Ricky, please,” Gyuvin choked, his voice barely a whisper. “I just wanted to be with you… Why does it have to end like this? Why can’t we be together for real? Just once…”

But no answer came. Ricky was still repeating the same thing, his form now little more than an outline in Gyuvin’s fading vision.

As Gyuvin’s body continued to vanish, he realized something else—the thing that hurt the most. He would never get to share a real moment with Ricky. He had wanted to laugh with him, share meals with him, and experience life together. But instead, everything was fading away, and there was no time left to make those moments real.

It was just a game. A game where the ending came before it even began.

Gyuvin’s breath hitched, his chest tight with sorrow. I never thought it would hurt this much. I never thought I could feel like this for him. Ricky, I… I really like you.

And as the final fragments of his body faded into nothingness, Gyuvin’s tears fell in silence. It felt like he was losing more than just a game. He was losing a person—someone who had grown to mean something to him, even if they weren’t real. In that fleeting moment, Gyuvin had allowed himself to care. And that was what made the goodbye so much harder.

🎮

Gyuvin woke up with a jolt, his body shaking as he sat up in his bed, gasping for breath. His heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind racing with confusion and panic.

“Ricky!” he screamed, his voice filled with alarm.

Gunwook, who had been asleep in the bed across from him, shot up at the sudden shout, startled. He rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. “What the hell, Gyuvin?” he mumbled, still half-asleep. “Why are you shouting? And who the fuck is Ricky?”

Gyuvin’s eyes were wide, his hands clutching the sheets as if they could ground him in reality. He looked around the room in a daze, his breathing rapid. “What happened? Where’s Ricky? Where is he?!” he asked frantically, his voice trembling.

Gunwook blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding the situation. “Ricky? You mean Dream Academy Ricky?” he asked, sitting up now, fully awake and concerned.

Gyuvin’s eyes widened in relief, and he nodded quickly. “Yes! Ricky! Is he… is he here? I… I don’t know what happened. Everything was so real…”

Gunwook sighed, leaning back against the headboard with a frustrated look. “You were playing that damn game all night, weren’t you? You’ve been obsessed with that otome game lately. I told you, it’s just a game. You probably had a bad dream or something.” He paused before narrowing his eyes. “Wait, hold on a second… where the hell did you go, anyway? You weren’t even in the dorm last night.”

Gyuvin froze, the panic beginning to subside just a little as the confusion started to clear. Where did I go? He glanced around the room. Everything seemed… normal. Gunwook was right—he had been gone. But how long had it been? He tried to remember how long he’d been playing the game, how long he’d been lost in that world, but it was hard to keep track of time. The vividness of everything—the conversations, the emotions, Ricky’s confession—made it feel like it had lasted months. But then… it was all gone in an instant.

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin murmured softly to himself, more to his thoughts than Gunwook. “I spent months there, but it’s only been a few hours here. It feels like I lost so much time…”

Gunwook raised an eyebrow hearing Gyuvin’s little remarks, “Uhmmm, what?” He leaned over, rummaging through his backpack before pulling out his phone. “Anyway, speaking of your game, I decided to give it a shot last night. Out of curiosity. You’re always playing it, so I thought I’d see what the fuss was about.”

Gyuvin blinked, not sure where Gunwook was going with this. “You played it?”

Gunwook nodded, scrolling through his phone. “Yeah, yeah. I met all those characters you talk about all the time. And then, you know, I had to choose someone to help with the school fair prep. I picked Ricky, because, well, I figured he seemed interesting. But, man, his aloof attitude? Not for me.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t take it anymore, so I stopped playing.”

Gyuvin’s heart stopped for a beat. His mind scrambled to put the pieces together. Gunwook was playing as me? He stared at Gunwook, eyes wide. “Wait. You…you chose Ricky?”

Gunwook gave a simple shrug, completely unaware of the weight of what he had just said. “Yeah, like I said, his snobbish thing was kind of off-putting. I just picked him coz he’s hot. But the moment he made me go back and forth to get his bag and notebook? Nuh-uh, not for me. I stopped playing and went back to sleep.”

The realization hit Gyuvin like a ton of bricks. His pulse raced as he processed what Gunwook had just revealed.

It wasn’t just me as the player’s avatar falling for Ricky… it was me. It was me, Gyuvin, falling for Ricky, by my own will. Except for the opening up til the start of the fair prep scene, it was me who felt all of those things and made all those decisions to interact with Ricky. Not Gunwook, not the game, me.

His mind reeled. The reason I felt everything… the connection, the warmth, the affection… it wasn’t because of the game’s script or because someone was controlling me. It was because I genuinely liked him. I fell for Ricky, just like someone would fall for a real person. He’s real. He felt real.

Gyuvin stood up abruptly, his hands trembling. “No… no, this can’t be… this can’t be happening!” His heart was pounding in his ears, and the reality of the situation seemed impossible to accept.

I’ve fallen for someone who doesn’t even exist. But I like him, I really like him…

Gunwook, still unaware of the full weight of what Gyuvin was feeling, just watched him curiously. “Dude, calm down. It’s just a game, okay? You’ve been talking about that character non-stop lately. What’s the big deal?”

But Gyuvin was far from calm. He stepped back, his mind racing. I wanted to believe I could separate the game from reality. I wanted to believe that my feelings for Ricky weren’t real, that I was just feeling it because of the game’s programming. But now I know. My feelings, they’re real. I… I really like him.

The weight of it all settled in his chest, a mix of fear, confusion, and longing. He had spent all this time with Ricky in a virtual world, and now that he was back in reality, he couldn’t ignore the feelings that had grown. He wanted to reach out to Ricky, to see him again, to be with him. But how could he? Ricky wasn’t real. He was just a character in a game.

Gyuvin sank back onto the bed, running a hand through his hair, trying to collect himself. “This is insane…” he muttered. “I really thought it was just the game… but now I realize… it’s not just the game. It’s me. I fell for him.”

Gunwook, still confused, leaned against the desk, eyes wide open and side-eyeing Gyuvin. “Uhm, what is happening? Are you… actually in love with a Dream Academy character?”

Gyuvin just looked at him, eyes wide with realization. “Yeah… I am.”

🎮

A few days had passed since Gyuvin returned to the real world. It had been an odd and difficult adjustment. He went through the motions—attending classes, doing assignments, participating in group work—but the feeling of emptiness lingered. The loneliness that had been part of his routine before had deepened. Now, it wasn’t just the silence or the isolation—it was the ache in his chest, the gnawing sadness that he couldn’t shake.

He missed Ricky. He missed the warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his actions. He missed the way Ricky had made him feel real in a way that no one else had. He had tried to convince himself that it was all just part of a game, but every time his mind wandered, it only found Ricky’s face, his smile, his touch.

Gyuvin sat in class, absently taking notes, but his thoughts were far away, replaying the moments he had shared with Ricky in Dream Academy . It was the first time he had ever felt something so genuine, and it had been ripped away from him so abruptly. How could he return to his life now? How could he go on without Ricky?

Even Gunwook had noticed something was wrong. He’d been trying to drag Gyuvin out of his shell, but Gyuvin couldn’t escape the feeling that everything was wrong. Gunwook had made jokes about Gyuvin’s “bad dream” and laughed it off, but he didn’t understand. He never would.

The chime of his phone broke his thoughts. It was a message notification from Dream Academy. He glanced at it, his heart sinking a little as he saw that it was a message from Ricky—no longer Matthew. He had changed the notifications after getting back, hoping maybe it would feel like something real, like Ricky might still reach him somehow. It was a feeble attempt to cope with the emptiness he felt, but it was all he had.

Sighing, he closed the app and opened his laptop, preparing for the lecture that was about to start. His mind was still elsewhere, distracted by the loss of a world he could never return to.

But then, the professor’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“We have a new student in class today,” the professor announced, glancing around. “I need a volunteer to help get him up to speed.”

Gyuvin wasn’t paying attention at first, but then something in the room shifted. A murmur swept through the students. Someone entered, and Gyuvin felt his heart skip a beat as he glanced up.

A figure stood at the front of the class—a familiar figure. His stomach clenched as he took in the blonde hair, the sharp features, and the cold expression that seemed almost too familiar. He blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing.

The new student introduced himself with a smooth, confident voice. “Hi, I’m Ricky Shen,” he said, a polite but distant smile on his face.

Gyuvin’s jaw dropped. His pulse quickened, and his breath caught in his throat. This is impossible.

This couldn’t be real. But it was. He knew that face. He knew that name. It was Ricky—his Ricky. The Ricky he had spent all that time with in the world of Dream Academy . Only, now, he was standing in front of him as a real-life person, in a classroom, in the real world.

He didn’t even think about it. Before he knew it, his hand shot up. “I’ll volunteer,” he said quickly, his voice unsteady but determined.

The professor nodded, motioning for him to go up. Gyuvin stood, his legs feeling like jelly, his heart pounding in his chest. Ricky looked at him, his brow furrowed slightly.

“You seem vaguely familiar,” Ricky said, his distant and indifferent tone sending a jolt through Gyuvin’s chest. “Have we met before?”

Gyuvin’s mind raced. Yes. We have. In Dream Academy . He smiled, but it wasn’t just a nervous smile. It was full of hope, full of possibility.

This is it. This is my second chance.

He stepped closer to Ricky, heart hammering in his chest. He could see the coldness in Ricky’s eyes, the same expression he had worn in the early stages of Dream Academy . But Gyuvin knew this route. He knew exactly how to break through the walls Ricky had built around himself. He had played the game, followed the story, and understood the path to his heart. And now that Ricky was here, in front of him, in the real world, Gyuvin knew he would win him over—no matter what.

“This time,” Gyuvin thought, his resolve firming, “I’ll make sure he falls for me. I’ll make sure we can be together for real.”

As Ricky walked over to him, still wearing that cool expression, Gyuvin smiled, his heart full of determination. This was no longer just a game. This was real life. And this time, Ricky would be his for real.