Chapter Text
1. Aurélien Marchand / Mindwarp
POWERS:
- Telekinesis ( Mind control )
- Teleportation ( portal creation )
MYNIX: psylia
COUNTRY: France
"You call that a plan? That wasn't a plan—that was a poorly written cry for help in glitter. Mon dieu, vous êtes tous des désastres glamour"
2. Chéng Jì-Mín / Frost wave
POWERS:
- Water / Ice control
- Time manipulation
MYNIX: Aquilo
COUNTRY: China
" If you value your life and wish to live longer, those hands will be back to where they are supposed to be. Away from me"
3. Jeon Jungkook / Apex
POWERS:
- Super strength
- Super jump and speed
MYNIX: Quicksil
COUNTRY: South Korea
"Listen, I didn't come here to be normal—I came here to cause problems and look hot doing it. Mission accomplished"
4. Nina Schmid / Ghost sound
POWERS:
- Super hearing
- Invisibility
MYNIX: Echo
COUNTRY: Switzerland
"If ugly opinions gave me powers, I'd be a god by now. Callate".
5. Kim Taehyung / Inferno
POWERS:
- Fire manipulation
- Pyrokinetic Constructs
MYNIX: Blaze
COUNTRY: South Korea
"I don't need backup. I am the backup—plus the final boss and the end credits"
6. Kevin Hart / Morph
POWERS:
- Wild whisper
- Animorphosis
MYNIX: Chimera
COUNTRY: The United States
"I swear, if one more person breathes near me with hot breath and dumb energy, I'm fighting everybody in this fucking room. Including the furniture"
7. Isabella Martinez / Sonique
POWERS:
- Sound and Vibrations Manipulation
- Shadow Manipulation
MYNIX: Sonara
COUNTRY: Spain
"I may be the nice one, but if you text me before I've had my snack—I'll ruin your whole day with a smile and glitter eyeliner".
7. Lucas Carter / Hawkeye
POWERS:
- Flight
- Vision Powers ( seeing from a far distance )
MYNIX: Aether
COUNTRY: United Kingdom ( England )
"Say what you want. I already clocked your weaknesses in the first five seconds"
9. Renji Takahashi / Polaris
POWERS:
- Magnetism ( Metal Manipulation )
- Laser Powers
MYNIX: Magno
COUNTRY: Japan
"I read ancient texts for fun. Your sarcasm intimidates me?"
A/N
I'm done with the characters now. Also, the part where I wrote country means where each of them are from in case you didn't get it. All photos used were gotten from pinterest so credits to the real owners and please everything is purely fictional.
If this story has similarities to any story you've read or movies you've watched, it's merely a coincidence. Everything I wrote and going to write are all images I created in my head which am now turning into words for you all to read.
AUTHORS POV
LOCATION: Sydney, Australia
The alarm clock blared in the dimly lit room. Beneath the tangled sheets, a lean five-foot-eight frame stirred, silver hair spilling from the small opening he'd left uncovered. A slender hand blindly reached out, fingers fumbling through the air in search of the noise. His face remained buried, unwilling to face the morning.
After a few failed attempts, his fingertips finally landed on the clock, silencing it with a sluggish tap. A quiet sigh of contentment escaped his lips, but the peace was short-lived. Another sound erupted—a sharp vibration against the mattress, signaling the presence of another device.
A groan rumbled from his throat as he pulled the sheets down, revealing his face at last. His mismatched eyes—one a deep, oceanic blue, the other a fiery red—blinked drowsily before he yawned, rubbing at them with the back of his hand. He blindly patted the bed in search of his phone, finding it just out of reach. With a tired huff, he stretched forward, grabbed it, and quickly shut off the screen before glancing at the time.
Leaning against the headboard, he ran a hand through his ruffled wolf-cut hair. The strands, tousled from restless tossing, cascaded just past his shoulders, while his long bangs hung over his eyes, concealing them in a veil of silver. He sat there for a moment, blinking sluggishly at the cold light filtering through his enormous window. Snowflakes drifted outside, clinging to the glass, and beyond them stood a towering tree, its bare branches trembling against the winter breeze.
The sheets pooled around his waist as he finally swung his legs over the edge of the bed, revealing his blue silk pajamas, the fabric shimmering faintly in the low light. Despite the simplicity of his movements, there was something surreal about him—an otherworldly stillness, like a figure carved from ice.
Now, the full scope of his room came into view. It was vast but meticulously arranged, every detail hinting at a mind far beyond the ordinary. His bed was positioned beside the massive window, strategically placed for an optimal view of the outside world. A sleek, curved couch stood at the center, facing a high-definition screen seamlessly embedded into the wall. The glass panels of his closet slid open at the mere press of a button, revealing neatly arranged clothing, each item stored with mechanical precision. Beside it, a door—most likely leading to the bathroom—glowed faintly with an automated sensor, detecting movement before it even occurred.
The walls were a deep, matte black, but electric blue circuitry-like patterns pulsed faintly beneath the surface, reacting to motion. No traditional decor adorned the space—except for a single poster above his bed, a sleek image of Batman loomed in shadow, the dark knight fitting seamlessly into the futuristic aesthetic of the room.
Yawning once more, he slipped his feet into a pair of fluffy black bunny slippers, an oddly childish contrast to the cutting-edge environment around him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and pulled open the door.
As he stepped out of his room, the hallway stretched before him, bathed in a soft, ambient glow. The walls, a sleek combination of midnight blue and matte black, absorbed the light, making the embedded neon-blue strips along the floor and ceiling stand out even more. Each step triggered a faint ripple of illuminated pathways, responding to his movement like the house itself was alive.
The hallway was long and symmetrical, lined with six doors—three on each side. Each door was a smooth, metallic panel with a biometric scanner glowing faintly beside it, awaiting a recognized touch. Small, holographic nameplates above each door flickered between symbols and readable text, identifying the rooms beyond. Some doors displayed locked indicators, while others pulsed softly as if they had just been used.
Above, the ceiling featured thin, nearly invisible panels that occasionally flickered to life, displaying floating holographic projections—weather updates, system diagnostics, or even a shifting simulation of a starry night sky. The air was cool but comfortable, carrying the faintest hum of the house's automated systems at work.
Further down the passage, the hallway opened slightly, revealing a floating staircase made of tempered glass, each step glowing faintly from underneath. The transparent railing was lined with thin, silver circuits, pulsing in response to motion. Beyond the staircase, glimpses of the main living space could be seen—where transparent screens doubled as windows, and furniture was seamlessly integrated with the house's AI-controlled system.
The interior of the house was a seamless blend of elegance and cutting-edge technology, a reflection of its architect's genius. The living room was expansive, designed with sleek metallic accents and polished black marble flooring that gleamed under the soft glow of embedded ceiling lights. The walls had a matte silver finish, and holographic displays shimmered faintly at the edges, ready to activate at a command. A large, curved sectional sofa sat at the center, upholstered in dark blue with silver embroidery, surrounding a low glass table that had a touch-screen interface. The space was minimalist yet sophisticated, every piece of furniture crafted with precision.
Beyond a transparent glass partition, the dining area exuded a similar aesthetic. The table was a single slab of reinforced crystal, floating just above the floor with no visible supports. Six chairs surrounded it, their design sleek yet comfortable. A subtle, soothing AI voice occasionally chimed in with soft reminders, adjusting the room's ambient lighting to match the time of day.
From the dining area, the kitchen was partially visible, separated by a high-tech sliding door that only opened when someone approached. The kitchen itself was pristine, a symphony of stainless steel, automated appliances, and touch-activated storage compartments.
As the male descended the final steps, his gaze landed on the dining area. Two kids, dressed in matching school uniforms with gender-appropriate styles, sat across from each other, engaged in conversation. The boy had black hair and dark brown eyes, while the girl had long blonde hair styled into two ponytails, tied with delicate pink bows. Her deep blue eyes mirrored one of his own, leaving no doubt about their relation.
Standing at the counter, his back to the children, was a tall male figure, easily a head taller than him. His dark hair was gathered into a loose bun, though a few strands had slipped free, framing his face. A brown apron was fastened around his waist, its ties knotted with precision. His movements were precise and calculated, hands expertly slicing through ingredients, the rhythm of his work both effortless and mechanical.
As he approached, the glass partition slid open automatically, responding to his presence.
"Morning, sleepyhead," a deep voice greeted, the man not even turning to look at him.
The two toddlers paused their chatter, turning their attention to him.
The girl smirked. "Wow, you're early."
Jì-Mín rolled his eyes, dragging out a chair beside her. "Yeah, figured I'd break a world record today." He drawled, barely sparing her a glance as he reached for an apple from the fruit basket.
Before he could take a bite, the boy snatched it from his hand, frowning.
"Yuxuan said no eating before breakfast." He grinned triumphantly.
At the mention of his name, the tall male finally turned, revealing his features. His black eyes were sharp and intense, his face sculpted with unnerving perfection—almost too flawless, too symmetrical. It was the kind of beauty that seemed unnatural, as if handcrafted rather than inherited. In both movement and expression, there was a certain calculated precision, an eerie elegance that was impossible to ignore.
He approached with two plates balanced effortlessly in his hands, placing them in front of the children before glancing at the silver-head. "Trying to sneak a snack already?" Yuxuan teased, a hint of amusement in his tone.
The male leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Well, maybe if you didn't take forever to cook."
Yuxuan merely hummed, turning back to retrieve more dishes. "Says the one who was supposed to help me but was still tangled in his sheets, snoring like a baby." He placed another plate in front of him and took a seat across from him, his expression unreadable yet teasing.
The latter scoffed, but a small smirk tugged at his lips. "You should've just woken me up."
"I did." Yuxuan gestured towards the boy. "Well Jiànlóng went to wake you, and you bit him."
He hummed, "That means he wasn't being gentle"
Jiànlóng, the boy, crossed his arms with an exaggerated huff. "I was being gentle! But you pushed me off the bed! Even Ruòxī was there." He pointed at the girl, who continued eating without getting involved.
"Okay, okay, just eat," Yuxuan said, ruffling the boy's hair before turning his attention back to the male. "By the way, jì-Mín, you're taking them to school today."
The referred-to male froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "Absolutely not."
Ruòxī tilted her head. "You are though."
Yuxuan nodded. "They missed the bus."
Jì-Mín groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why can't you take them? Today is my first day of school so I don't even know where my own school is, and I'm already late."
Yuxuan's pupils shifted, glowing faintly before the wall behind them flickered to life like a projector. A detailed map appeared, followed by an image of a massive school building with bold letters at the front:
"Wellington International school."
Jì-Mín muttered the name under his breath as the projection faded.
"Your school is just five minutes from theirs," Yuxuan explained. "It's large enough that you won't miss it."
Jì-Mín exhaled sharply but said nothing.
"I would've taken them myself, but Master Liwei sent me on an errand," Yuxuan added.
Ruòxī perked up. "Dad? Did he say he'd visit?"
Jì-Mín scoffed. "As if."
Yuxuan's gaze softened. "No, but he said soon."
The conversation died there. They finished their meal in relative silence, though Yuxuan himself never ate, merely observing them. When Jì-Mín was done, he stood, scraping his chair back.
"I'll be down in eight minutes."
With that, he disappeared upstairs.
Eight minutes later, he reappeared, now dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants, a bag slung over his shoulder. His silver hair was neatly combed, no longer disheveled.
The kids sat waiting in the living room, their backpacks and lunch boxes neatly arranged beside them. Over their uniforms, they wore thick woolen sweaters, the school's crest embroidered over the chest. At the sound of his footsteps, they stood.
Jì-Mín barely acknowledged them as he strode to the front door. "Yuxuan, I'm taking Luna."
From the kitchen, Yuxuan's voice responded. "Alright."
He waved as the trio left.
The moment they stepped outside, a crisp winter chill bit at their faces. Snow blanketed the ground, a pristine white sheet untouched except for the faint tire tracks leading out of the driveway. Tiny flakes drifted lazily from the sky, glistening under the soft morning light.
The outside of the house was just as grand as its interior, if not more. A long, black gate towered at the compound's entrance, its sleek metallic surface embedded with biometric scanners. On either side, two statues—a lion and a horse—stood guard, their polished stone dusted with a fine layer of snow.
Under a large canopy designed as a futuristic garage, multiple luxury cars rested in neat rows, their glossy exteriors reflecting the overcast sky. Some had a thin layer of frost over the windshields, except for one—a sleek black vehicle with no visible handles.
Jì-Mín walked up to it and pressed his thumb against the side. Instantly, the car's door slid open with a soft hiss, warm air rushing out to greet them.
The kids hurried inside, rubbing their gloved hands together as they buckled into their seats. Jì-Mín settled into the driver's seat, tapping on a small screen embedded in the dashboard. He inputted the children's school address.
"Luna, take us to this location."
A smooth, synthetic voice responded. "Understood, sir. Have a safe drive."
The car started on its own, smoothly pulling out as the massive gate parted automatically.
As they left the house behind, Jì-Mín exhaled. Today was already off to an exhausting start.
————————-
St. Helena International Academy, the school which the kids attended, was a picturesque private school nestled in a quiet, affluent district of the city. Unlike the imposing grandeur of high schools, this academy had a warm, inviting elegance, designed to foster both academic excellence and a sense of comfort for its young students.
The school's entrance featured an ornate wrought-iron gate, its swirling golden patterns forming the initials "S.H.A." Beyond it, a cobblestone driveway, now dusted with fresh snow, led to the main building—a beautiful three-story structure made of light sandstone and dark wooden accents, exuding a timeless European charm. Large, arched windows allowed plenty of natural light inside, and vines, frozen stiff from the cold, trailed elegantly along the brick walls, giving the school a storybook-like appearance.
The courtyard was a masterpiece in itself, featuring a central marble fountain of a scholar reading a book. The water had been turned off for the season, leaving a delicate layer of ice covering its basin. Surrounding it were neatly trimmed hedges dusted in white and flower beds that now lay dormant under the snow. A paved pathway, salted to prevent slipping, led to different sections of the school, including a modern playground, an art pavilion, and a well-maintained sports field.
No one was outside anymore, a clear sign that they were very late. Ruòxī opened her mouth to speak—probably to complain—but Jì-Mín cut her off before she could get a word out.
"Not interested".
She pouted, dramatically grabbing her bag and lunchbox before stepping out of the car. Jiànlóng moved to wave goodbye, but she snatched his hand, shooting a final glare in Jì-Mín's direction as if he were personally responsible for their tardiness. Without another word, the two pushed open the elegant school gates and disappeared inside.
Jì-Mín chuckled, shaking his head at her theatrics. He leaned back against the headrest, exhaling before turning back to the car's control panel. With a few quick taps, he entered his own school's address.
The car's system responded immediately. "Destination set. Estimated arrival: five minutes. Enjoy your ride, sir."
And just like that, the car pulled away from the school, gliding smoothly onto the road.
As Jì-Mín arrived at the school, he noticed that he wasn't the only latecomer. A significant number of students were still making their way in, some stepping out of private cars while others rushed toward the entrance. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the digital clock on the car's dashboard. Twenty three minutes late.
Yet, if he were to estimate, at least forty percent of the school was just arriving.
As his car approached the main gate, the security personnel—an older man in a navy uniform—wordlessly opened it, letting him in. The school's parking lot was already bustling with luxury vehicles, ranging from sleek sports cars to high-end sedans. However, Jì-Mín didn't need to direct his own. The AI-controlled vehicle maneuvered itself effortlessly through the lot, weaving past other students' cars before sliding into an empty space beside a sleek black coupe.
The moment the door lifted open, he stepped out, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. A few students turned, their eyes following him as he walked. Some whispered among themselves, curiosity evident in their glances—probably because they had never seen his car before.
Jì-Mín ignored them.
He moved through the crowd as though they didn't exist, heading straight for the school entrance. The hallways were just as chaotic, filled with clusters of students chatting loudly, some leaning against lockers while others scrolled through their phones or rummaged through their bags. A few were messing around—shoving each other playfully, laughing in loud bursts.
The school's interior was a blend of old-world elegance and modern architecture. The hallways were wide, lined with polished oak lockers and illuminated by sleek pendant lights that hung from the high ceilings. Tall arched windows framed the corridors, allowing natural light to cast soft shadows across the marble flooring. Gold-trimmed plaques displaying the school's motto and achievements were mounted on the cream-colored walls, giving the space a prestigious feel.
A grand staircase, its mahogany banister intricately carved, spiraled upward to the upper floors. Alongside it, a glass-paneled elevator offered a more modern alternative, its doors opening and closing smoothly as students filed in and out.
The scent of freshly polished wood mixed with faint traces of expensive perfumes and colognes, creating an atmosphere that felt both refined and lively.
Jì-Mín exhaled, already tired of the noise. He had no idea what class he had first and wasn't about to ask anyone for directions to the principal's office.
Before he could decide what to do, something—or rather, someone—collided with him.
The impact caught him off guard, forcing him to stumble forward (typical). His breath hitched as he lost balance, but just before he could hit the ground, a firm grip caught hold of his bag's handle, stopping his fall.
The sudden commotion turned heads.
A hush spread through the hallway, and Jì-Mín could feel countless pairs of eyes locked onto him.
He hated attention.
Straightening himself, he quickly dusted off his hoodie and sighed in irritation. He turned sharply to confront whoever had bumped into him—
But the person was already walking away.
Jì-Mín's eyes narrowed.
The guy's back was the only thing he could see—a broad frame clad in a black hoodie, paired with well-fitted blue jeans. His red hair stood out against the neutral tones of his clothing, messy yet effortlessly styled. Hands tucked into his pockets, he moved with a confidence that exuded both power and mystery, like he belonged yet remained untouchable.
Jì-Mín found himself staring, even as the guy disappeared into the crowd.
A light tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance. He blinked—and that's when he realized the once-busy hallway had fallen into an eerie silence. The chatter, the footsteps, the movement—all gone. It was as if the entire crowd had vanished into thin air, leaving only him behind.
He turned back, coming face-to-face with a woman, probably in her forties. Heavy makeup was drawn onto her face, her dark red lipstick clashing against her pale skin. Her black hair, cut short, barely reached her shoulders. Lips curled into a frown, she studied Jì-Mín with sharp, scrutinizing eyes.
"What are you still doing here, young man?" Her voice carried an authoritative tone as she studied him carefully.
Jì-Mín remained expressionless as she squinted and their eyes met, in that instant, her features shifted—first into suprise then something more unreadable, laced with curiosity and a hint of wonder. Her gaze lingered a second longer than necessary, as if piecing something she wasn't sure she should say aloud.
Jì-Mín already knew why.
It wasn't the first time someone reacted like this to his mismatched eyes.
But just like the others, she remained silent, keeping whatever thought had crossed her mind to herself.
"I'm new here. Don't have my class schedule," he muttered.
She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Follow me."
She didn't bother checking if he was following before turning on her heel and walking away. Jì-Mín didn't mind. He preferred it this way. He hated people who talked too much.
They walked in silence through the hallways, the noise gradually fading as they moved deeper into the building. After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a door. She pushed it open and stepped inside.
The office was a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the school halls. It was spacious, the walls lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes and framed certificates. A large mahogany desk sat at the center of the room, meticulously arranged with documents, a sleek tablet, and an antique brass nameplate. Behind it, a massive window overlooked the school courtyard, its heavy navy curtains partially drawn.
A single, plush chair sat opposite the desk—clearly meant for visitors. The room smelled faintly of coffee and old books, a strangely calming mix.
The woman walked over to the desk and began rummaging through a drawer, still not sparing him a glance.
"Name?" she asked, her voice neutral.
"Chéng jì-Mín."
"Last year?"
"Yes"
She nodded, went through a note, opened the drawer again and pulled out a neatly printed paper and handed it to him. "That's your schedule. You're already late for your first class, so I suggest you make your way there quickly."
Jì-Mín took the paper, noting that this was the longest sentence she had spoken since they met. Regardless, he gave a small nod. "Yes, thank you, ma'am."
He was about to leave when her voice stopped him again.
"Your eyes.......Heterochromia right?"
Duh. What else could it be? Homochromia?
He turned slightly, meeting her gaze.
“Yeah"
With that, he walked out of the office without waiting for her response.
As soon as the door closed behind him, he realized something—he had no idea where his first class was.
Almost as if she had read his mind, her voice called out from the other side of the door.
"Second floor, third classroom to your left."
Jì-Mín smirked slightly, glancing back at the closed door before making his way toward the staircase.
———————-
Jì-Mín walked into the classroom without knocking, barely sparing a glance at the door. He immediately regretted it.
Every single head turned his way.
The air shifted, a thick wave of whispers rippling through the students. Some stole glances, others didn't bother with subtlety—just outright staring, like he was an artifact unearthed from some ancient tomb.
At the front of the room, a man—clearly the teacher—stood frozen mid-action, chalk in hand. He looked to be in his early thirties, dressed in a sweater and jeans, a black beanie resting over neatly combed hair. His glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he turned toward Jì-Mín, his expression unreadable.
Jì-Mín exhaled, lowering his head slightly in a polite bow. "Morning, sir."
The teacher nodded. "You're new." It wasn't a question.
Jì-Mín lifted his gaze, their eyes meeting for a brief second. The man didn't look surprised, not even a flicker of curiosity or confusion—either he had a damn good poker face, or his bangs obscured his heterochromatic eyes just enough to go unnoticed.
"Yes."
"Introduce yourself to the class."
Jì-Mín turned to face them. The room fell eerily silent. He smirked. Pathetic
"Chéng Jì-Mín. From China. Nice to meet you." His tone was flat, uninterested.
The teacher smiled, unfazed. "Great to have you, Jì-Mín. I'm Kim Namjoon—Mr. Kim to you. Find an empty seat."
Jì-Mín's gaze swept over the room until it landed on a particular student.
Red hair, dark green eyes. The guy sat lazily, a pencil resting between his lips, watching him with a gaze that was both heavy and amused. Something about him felt... familiar. But Jì-Mín couldn't place it.
Shoving the feeling aside, he looked past the redhead, spotting an empty seat beside a girl with long dark hair. She was smiling softly at him, her expression welcoming but not overbearing.
Good enough.
Jì-Mín made his way through the rows of desks, ignoring the lingering stares, and dropped into the seat.
"Hi," the girl greeted, waving slightly.
He nodded in acknowledgment and faced forward.
"Alright," Mr. Kim said, scanning the class. "I expect someone to lend him notes for the lessons he's missed."
"Yes, sir!" the class chimed in unison.
Jì-Mín caught Mr. Kim's gaze once more before the teacher turned back to the board. There was something about the way the man looked at him... like he knew more than he let on. But that was impossible.
Shaking off the thought, Jì-Mín focused on the lesson—or at least tried to.
History. Great. He hadn't even bothered to check his class schedule until now. But to his surprise, the class wasn't as mind-numbingly dull as he'd expected. Mr. Kim was engaging, weaving humor into his explanations, making the topic almost bearable.
Almost.
Unfortunately, Jì-Mín had another problem.
The red-haired guy.
He wouldn't shut up. Kept whispering to his seat partner, laughing under his breath. It was irritating, especially since he was tall enough to block Jì-Mín's view of the board.
The girl beside him must have noticed his struggle because she subtly slid her notebook toward him.
A silent gesture.
He accepted it without a word.
Thirty minutes later, the bell rang
JIMINs POV
Before I could even stand, I felt them closing in.
A group of girls surrounded my desk like vultures, their voices overlapping in a whirlwind of questions.
"You're from China, but you speak English?"
"Were you born here?"
"What's your natural hair color?"
More questions followed, voices overlapping, each one more intrusive than the last.
Then—
"Can you all back off?"
The voice came from in front of him. Low, casual, but carried enough weight to silence the room.
I looked up.
Red-haired guy.
He was facing me fully now, finally pulling the pencil from his lips. His expression was unreadable, amusement lingering in his dark green eyes.
"You guys act like you've never seen a transfer student before," he continued, flicking his gaze at the girls. "Give the guy some space."
There were groans of protest, but—shockingly—they actually listened, dispersing with reluctant sighs.
I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or irritated.
As the room emptied, I noticed my seatmate was still at her desk, quietly flipping through a book.
The redhaired, however, hadn't left either. He was still watching me, his eyes slightly narrowed
Then, he leaned in.
I tensed.
"Heterochromia?"
The way he said it—it wasn't just a passing question. It was something more, like he was testing me.
I didn't answer. Just looked away.
He huffed a small laugh. "Rude."
Standing up, he stretched his arms over his head, his shirt riding up slightly. I took that as my cue to leave as well, but before I could step around him, I realized something.
He wasn't moving.
We were standing way too close.
I clenched my jaw. "Move."
He smirked. "What, no please?"
My patience was wearing thin. Just as I was about to shove past him, a voice cut in.
"You told the others to leave him alone. So why are you doing the same thing, Taehyung?"
I turned.
My seatmate.
She was standing now, arms crossed, a sharp look in her eyes.
The red hair guy who I now know as 'Taehyung' raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Izzy-Bee. Just trying to be friendly."
Her frown deepened, but she didn't argue.
With one last glance in my direction, he smirked, then strolled out of the classroom like he had all the time in the world.
I exhaled, finally able to breathe.
"You okay?"
I turned.
She was smiling at me. It was soft, reassuring.
"Don't mind him," she said. "He's annoying but harmless."
I nodded.
Her eyes suddenly lit up, as if remembering something.
"Oh! I'm Isabelle, by the way." She extended a hand.
I blinked at it. She hesitated, about to pull back, when I finally shook it. "Nice to meet you."
Her smile returned, even brighter than before. "Would you like to go to the cafeteria together? I can lend you my notes after school."
I hesitated. She seemed... nice.
For once, I let my guard down, just a little.
I smiled,"Sure."
She grinned. "Something tells me you don't smile often so I might have to save it in my memory"
Another smile almost tugged up at that comment while I quickly subsided and followed her out the door.
Maybe this school wouldn't be completely terrible.
————————-
Lunch break.
I regretted everything
The cafeteria was a nightmare—loud, crowded, and overwhelmingly chaotic. Students shoved past each other, chairs screeched against the floor, and the air was thick with the scent of greasy fries and spilled juice.
I hesitated near the entrance, gripping my tray. Maybe I could just eat outside—
Then, someone yanked my wrist.
I barely had time to react before I was dragged through the mess, my tray wobbling dangerously in my other hand.
"Come on! We have to move fast if we want a good seat," Isabelle urged, her grip surprisingly strong.
I didn't even have the chance to protest. She maneuvered through the maze of students like a pro, dodging swinging backpacks and sidestepping half-eaten sandwiches on the floor.
Then—
CRASH.
Something cold and slimy splattered against my chest.
I froze.
The entire cafeteria went silent.
A half-eaten slice of pizza slid down my hoodie, leaving behind a greasy, tomato-stained trail.
Laughter erupted.
"Oh, shit—"
I looked up. A group of guys at a nearby table were laughing their asses off. One of them, a lanky kid with curly orange hair, held up his hands in mock innocence.
"My bad, bro! Didn't see you there."
More laughter.
My eye twitched. Are these people serious?
Isabelle gasped. "Jì-Mín, are you okay?"
Before I could answer, another voice cut through the noise.
"Damn. Didn't know it was 'Throw Food at New Students' day."
I turned.
Taehyung.
He was sitting lazily on one of the tables, not even bothering with a chair. His elbow rested on his knee, chin propped in his palm. His smirk was damn near irritating.
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to stay calm. I was not about to cause a scene on my first day.
I grabbed a napkin and wiped off as much of the sauce as I could. "It's fine," I muttered.
But before I could take a step—
Another piece of pizza flew through the air.
This time, aimed at my face.
I caught it.
The cafeteria gasped.
My grip tightened around the greasy mess in my palm.
The guy who threw it—Curly Hair—froze, his smirk faltering.
I exhaled. Then, slowly, deliberately, I walked toward their table.
Curly Hair shifted nervously. "Uh—look, man, it was just a jo—"
I slammed the pizza down on his head.
Sauce, cheese, and crust squished into his hair, sliding down his forehead.
The cafeteria erupted.
Laughter. Shouts. Absolute chaos.
Curly Hair yelped, flailing as he tried to shake off the mess. His friends lost it, their laughter mixing with the noise of the room.
Isabelle's eyes were wide as hell.
And Taehyung?
He was grinning like an idiot.
I turned, brushing my hands off. "Now we're even."
Then, I gave a him a tight grin and walked out with my tray in hand.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I sighed.
I take back my words. This school is definitely terrible.
————————
I completely lost my appetite, and even though I felt bad for the food, I dumped it in the nearest bin. Guess I'll just grab something on the way home.
I needed to use the bathroom, but of course, I had no clue where it was. Just my luck. As I stood there, ready to groan about how miserably the day was going, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.
I didn't even bother looking—assumed it was Isabella. She's the only one I've spoken to without wanting to crawl under a desk.
But when I glanced over my shoulder, it wasn't her.
It was a guy.
Tall, lean, and almost annoyingly calm-looking. He wore a charcoal-grey long-sleeved shirt, fitted just right, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, paired with black cargo pants and boots that looked expensive in a subtle way. Effortlessly cool without trying too hard. His dark blond hair was slightly tousled, like he ran a hand through it but didn't care enough to fix it.
His face was sharp—like one of those statues in a museum that made you feel judged. Defined jaw, straight nose, pale skin that made his steel-grey eyes pop. He looked like the type who didn't smile unless he meant it—and he wasn't smiling now.
"You're blocking the vending machine," he said, voice smooth with a clear British edge.
I blinked. What?
I glanced behind me and, sure enough, there was a vending machine I hadn't even noticed.
"Oh," I muttered, stepping aside. "My bad."
He gave a short nod in thanks and leaned forward to press a few buttons.
For someone who just wanted a snack, he was way too intense.
I stood there awkwardly for a second, realizing I still had no clue where the damn bathroom was and really didn't want to ask the wrong person.
"You look lost," he said suddenly, not even turning around.
I froze. "Excuse me?"
He retrieved a drink from the machine, straightened up, and finally looked at me again. "You've been standing there like you're waiting for a sign from the universe. Either that or you're about to faint."
I scoffed. "Wow. Thanks."
He raised an eyebrow. "Am I wrong?"
...Fair point.
"I'm just—" I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, then jerked his head toward the hallway on the left. "Take the second right. You'll see the sign."
"Right. Thanks," I said, already stepping in that direction.
"Try not to get lost again," he called after me.
I rolled my eyes but didn't answer. Because, unfortunately... I probably would.