Chapter Text
Chen Kaiwen was never one to hate on others openly.
In fact, he was nice to everyone. Overly helpful, in fact. His notes were constantly in circulation, and people were always asking him for favours, which he rarely declined. Needed to print something? Kaiwen would do it for you. Need chemistry notes for the upcoming exam? Kaiwen would give them to you without another word.
Everyone in Planet Academy knew Chen Kaiwen. And they always thought of him as a star student — one of the two student council presidents, his academic scores always placing within the top two, long-distance track star and the soccer team’s central midfielder. Gold medals, trophies and certificates decorated his shelves.
So it came as a surprise when a group of students received some emails from Kaiwen’s email address at three in the morning. On a Monday. Most only received one or two, some had a few more.
Zhang Jiahao received thirty-seven.
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Mondays are never pleasant.
Kaiwen had the misfortune of reaching the bus stop three seconds after his bus left, leaving him with no choice but to wait for the next bus. Or walk.
He’d rather die than enter school as a sweaty, panting mess. The sweat was reserved for track and basketball only.
So of course he had to spend those ten minutes waiting for the cursed bus productively. That Monday happened to start with English, then Lab Chemistry, followed by break. Then he had History, Physics, Biology, and ended the day with a student council meeting.
Not his favourite, but he’ll take it. He still doesn’t know why the school decided to cram three different sciences in one day though.
He decides to scroll through his Twitter. Nothing like some fresh internet drama to kick off the day.
”Idol group ZEROBASEONE extended their contract.” Kaiwen smiles a bit at that. They do have great music, and he likes the members (his bias is Zhang Hao). “Planet Academy student under investigation…” Yikes. He doesn’t want to read that.
“chen kaiwen is a fake, dumb bastard.”
With twenty-nine reposts and fifty likes.
What the hell?
The bus comes, and Kaiwen has no choice but to take a screenshot and put his phone away, biting his lip. He doesn’t know what happened. He’s not sure he wants to know.
Kaiwen takes out his headphones, letting them sit on his head while he puts on his morning playlist. He needs something happy to distract himself from the pain of commuting to school — so he puts on TWICE.
It’s not long before he’s getting off the bus, his headphones now wrapping snugly around his neck. He walks into school, but not before seeing a few stares, the occasional whisper. He notices it. He notices everything.
And for once, he’s not curious about it.
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Kaiwen curses the bus silently the second he walks into class, because he’s had absolutely no time to talk to any of his friends or even breathe properly before Mr. Seok walks in with his usual smiley demeanor, greeting the students with a “Don’t worry, I like Monday mornings as much as you do” before starting on the lesson. English flies past and so does Chemistry, although one of Kaiwen’s classmates, a pink-haired boy named Masato, somehow manages to blow up a test tube. It was mildly entertaining. He gets assigned to having Chuei Liyu as his lab partner, and he’s happy about it — Liyu is one of the student council’s secretaries, being a quiet and responsible student. On the outside, at least. He’s a whole other person in private. (That’s a story for another time.)
Break comes, and Kaiwen’s phone buzzes a few times.
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dancey 🪩
suren: yo kaiwen where are you
suren: kaiwen
suren: chen kaiwen.
zihao: xinlong told me jiahao is PISSED can you talk
…?
what
why would jiahao be pissed
zihao: …
zihao: check your sent emails
suren: come down to the cafeteria
suren: now
suren: we’re at table 10 hurry up
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Kaiwen scratches his head. He picks up his bag and exits the lab, going down the stairs two steps at a time, walking with a bit more speed than usual. He gets a glare or two and starts walking even faster, wondering what the hell happened to have his friends spamming him at this time. They usually never spam him unless it’s serious — and this time their tone is slightly concerning. Very, actually. The fact that Suren isn’t using any emojis and Zihao isn’t making any jokes is already off-putting. Kaiwen doesn’t touch his phone on the way to the cafeteria, his mind racing at a million miles an hour. What could have happened? Why are Zihao and Suren acting so weird? Why would Jiahao be so pissed? Yes, Jiahao hates his ass, but they haven’t argued for a few days, so what on earth—
“Watch it.”
While he was practically sprinting down the stairs, Kaiwen finds himself face-to-face with Yoo Kangmin, one of the student council executive committee (or just ExCO) members. He’s one of the welfare heads and is also a part of Jiahao’s friend group. Kangmin is significantly shorter than Kaiwen is, and Kaiwen’s face turns the shade of a tomato when he realises he’s knocked into the other while overthinking, causing some of Kangmin’s textbooks to fall onto the staircase. He didn’t see Kangmin at all. Kangmin’s tone is slightly surprised, and his eyebrows are raised when Kaiwen starts to pick up his textbooks while apologising profusely.
“How are you acting so normal?”
“What?” Kaiwen gets up and passes the textbooks to their owner, brushing his hair out of his face.
“Thanks. I meant, how are you still so calm and brave enough to come to school after sending those emails? How are you going to face everyone, especially Jiahao?”
“What emails…?” Kaiwen stares at the other boy blankly. Kangmin’s eyebrows somehow are raised even higher than before, and he sighs. “Never mind. I think Zihao and Suren will tell you.” With that, the shorter boy disappears up the stairs, textbooks and disbelief in hand.
Another buzz from his pocket, and Kaiwen is snapped back to reality, out of his thoughts. He blinks a few times before going down the rest of the steps two at a time, biting his lower lip involuntarily. He’s frowning slightly, and when he gets to the cafeteria, he is not met with smiles.
Instead, he gets an uncharacteristically quiet Li Zihao and a frowning Xue Suren. Outreach head and discipline head of the student council respectively, the two boys are looking at their best friend with expressions too serious to be on those faces.
“So.” Suren starts, his silvery hair falling into his eyes slightly as he slides his phone over to Kaiwen, who takes a seat opposite the duo. “Explain why Zhang Jiahao found thirty-seven emails from you, sent at three this morning, all presumably from various time periods in your rivalry, and why other students also received emails from you at that time, containing varying levels of rage.”
On the phone screen is He Xinlong panic texting Zihao, sending frantic updates of what Jiahao is saying, varying from sarcastic jokes to insulting Kaiwen to threatening to punch someone every two minutes.
“Oh, shit.” Kaiwen mutters. “The emails.”
They’d been sent out.
Four years’ worth of indignance and rage, bottled up in Kaiwen’s email drafts.
Now sent out to every single person that's pissed him off in those four years.