Chapter Text
Travel guidebooks lied incessantly about autumn in Seoul.
They promised crisp mountain breezes, picturesque golden leaves and romantic afternoons under clear blue skies.
On the manicured grounds of Daehan Prestige University, however, the air carried no such poetry.
It smelled exclusively of old money, ostentatious arrogance and a fog of competing pheromones.
Park Seonghwa hated this place with every fiber of his being.
He perched uncomfortably on the edge of a freezing granite bench near the central fountain, feeling the chill leech through his thin trousers and straight into his bones.
Resting in his lap sat a partially eaten, thoroughly stale convenience store sandwich.
The bread had hardened into the texture of a dry sponge and the meager slice of processed ham inside offered all the flavor of wet cardboard.
It was a pathetic lunch, yet he guarded it fiercely.
His thumb absently smoothing the crinkled plastic wrapper.
Across the plaza, the massive fountain belched arching streams of crystal water over imported marble statues, as if the university needed to remind everyone that even its plumbing was richer than most neighborhood budgets.
The surrounding courtyard bustled like an obnoxious high fashion runway.
Seonghwa watched a relentless tide of students glide past in tailored cashmeres, silk trench coats and rare designer sneakers.
A single pair of those shoes could easily pay 12 months of rent for the windowless box he called an apartment.
The air vibrated with unspoken hostility and arrogance.
Sharp, territorial scents of heavy oak and rich leather from strutting alphas crashed violently against the clashing, cloying floral notes of pampered Omegas.
Seeking whatever meager warmth he could salvage from the bitter autumn draft, Seonghwa pulled the stretched cuffs of his oversized sweater down over his knuckles.
The sweater was a thrift store artifact, hopelessly threadbare at the elbows and smelling faintly of cheap detergent from three laundromats ago.
A shudder rattled his shoulders.
He kept his chin firmly locked downward, letting a thick curtain of dark bangs veil his eyes while concentrating on the brick-sized textbook resting across his knees.
The heavy volume was a secondhand disaster with dog-eared corners and whole paragraphs smeared in angry neon yellow highlighter.
His pen hovered above a dense section on macroeconomic equilibria, though the technical jargon was beginning to blur together into meaningless ink blobs.
He was exhausted.
It was a marrow-deep, soul-crushing fatigue born from back-to-back graveyard shifts at a greasy 24-hour diner down by the train tracks.
Seonghwa spent those endless night hours refilling lukewarm coffee pots and scrubbing congealed grease off stainless steel counters, all to afford the supplementary reading materials his elite merit scholarship mysteriously failed to cover.
Every muscle in his back throbbed with an ache and the universe seemed to gleefully orchestrate daily reminders that a working-class ghost did not belong in a castle built for royalty.
The pale sunlight filtering through the canopy suddenly flickered out as a tall shadow eclipsed his lap.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt your thrilling study time.”
A voice purred from above.
The sound was impossibly slick, dripping with a sugary, performance-grade politeness that made the acid rise in Seonghwa's throat.
He froze instantly, pen tip digging a tiny black crater into the paper.
He stubbornly refused to tilt his head up, clinging to the absurd hope that force of will might render him invisible.
A costly leather boot crunched against the gravel as the intruder took a step closer, bringing with him a cloud of tailored citrus cologne.
“Come on now, don't play dumb. I know you hear me.”
Seonghwa let out a long, weary breath that condensed into a faint mist in the crisp autumn air.
He slowly released his grip on his pen, allowing his gaze to travel upward from three pairs of immaculate, dustless leather shoes.
Standing before him was a formidable wall of effortless, generational wealth.
Three alphas blocked the pale afternoon sunlight, looking as though they had strolled straight off the glossy pages of a high-fashion catalog targeted exclusively at country club heirs.
The centerpiece of the trio stepped directly into Seonghwa's personal space, leaning over the stone bench with an oily, self-satisfied grin.
He wore an obscenely expensive silk dress shirt, unbuttoned down past his sternum in an absurd display of bravado for a chilly afternoon.
His posture oozed unearned confidence, as if he owned the granite bench beneath Seonghwa and the sky overhead.
The atmosphere instantly soured around them as a thick wave of scent rolled over the courtyard.
It was a mix of artificial pine pheromones and expensive cologne that made Seonghwa’s nose sting and his stomach twist in revolt.
Instead of shrinking backward under the aggressive physical pressure of three dominant presences, Seonghwa braced his spine straight against the cold backrest.
He met the central alpha's glittering eyes with a look of pure deadpan exhaustion.
“Do you actually need something from me?”
Seonghwa asked.
His voice landed between them with a bone-dry, icy flat tone.
He completely omitted the soft, melodic and eager-to-please undertones that society aggressively conditioned omegas to present around powerful alphas.
There was zero deference in his posture, only the annoyance of an overworked student whose precious 20-minute lunch break was being ruined.
The Alpha's smirk broadened into an arrogant grin, blissfully misinterpreting Seonghwa's visible exhaustion for coy shyness.
He stepped deeper into the tiny radius of peace Seonghwa had carved out for himself, planting one ringed palm against the granite backrest right above Seonghwa's shoulder.
The sudden movement boxed Seonghwa in, trapping his body against the bench while bringing a fresh, nauseating cloud of synthetic pine cologne directly into his breathing space.
“I keep spotting you out here all by yourself.”
The alpha purred, tilting his head with condescending amusement.
“You always look so ridiculously serious. A cute omega like you shouldn't waste time pouting like that. It completely ruins your pretty face.”
Seonghwa did not flinch, nor did his pulse accelerate.
With slowness, he carefully tucked his cheap plastic pen into his pocket and let the massive textbook fall shut with a loud thud that echoed off the marble rim of the fountain.
The crisp autumn breeze whipped a strand of hair across his eyes but his gaze remained steady.
He took his sweet time conducting a thorough detailed inspection of the intruder standing over him.
His eyes dragged down the unbuttoned silk shirt, past the excessive gold chain hanging against the man's bare chest, all the way down to his designer shoes, before lazily drifting back up to meet the alpha's expectant gaze.
There was no awe in Seonghwa's expression, no submissive instinct and certainly no warmth.
Only an icy cold boredom.
“And an adult alpha like you shouldn't be walking around in a shirt that belongs to a backup dancer from an old 2010 music video.”
Seonghwa said.
His tone dripped with flat, effortless sarcasm.
“Yet here we are. The world is full of terrible disappointments.”
The confident smirk evaporated from the alpha's face in an instant, replaced by a stunned blankness.
Behind him, his two wealthy shadows choked back sudden, poorly disguised snorts of laughter, hastily smothering their snickers behind manicured hands.
The air between them shifted dramatically as the sickeningly artificial pine scent curdled, turning bitter and thick with bruised vanity.
“What did you just say to me?”
The Alpha asked, voice dropping an octave as his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
Seonghwa did not bat an eye.
He enunciated every single syllable with painstaking clarity, adopting the overly patient tone one might use when explaining simple addition to a slow toddler.
He was far too exhausted to pretend to be intimidated.
“I said I am trying to study.”
Seonghwa replied, gaze locking onto the alpha without a single flicker of hesitation.
“I am not a museum exhibit setting up for public display and I am definitely not interested in whatever half-baked pickup line you spent your entire morning practicing in the bathroom mirror instead of opening your course syllabus.”
The rejection struck the alpha right in his bloated ego.
A flush crept up his neck, staining his perfect complexion beneath his meticulously styled hair.
Dropping all pretense of playfulness, he crossed the tiny remaining gap between them, flexing his broad shoulders and leaning his full frame directly into Seonghwa's personal space.
His shadow engulfed the small bench, forcing Seonghwa to breathe in the pressure of his flared scent.
The fabric of his silk shirt brushed against the frayed knit of Seonghwa's sweater, an unspoken threat of physical power meant to break a lesser omega's resolve.
“You have a surprisingly nasty mouth for scholarship trash.”
The alpha hissed down at him, upper lip curling into a furious sneer.
“You really need to learn your place on this campus. A nobody omega with zero family background shouldn't go around biting the hands of people who could actually afford to buy you a real meal.”
Under the shadow of the alpha, Seonghwa did not flinch.
He refused to shrink back or offer even a millimeter of surrender to the aggressive presence hovering above him.
Instead, he tilted his head at a precise, mocking angle, a razor-thin smile spreading slowly across his pale lips.
The atmosphere around the stone fountain grew dangerously, unnaturally still.
“I would rather eat dirt.”
Seonghwa murmured, voice so softly whispered that it possessed an icy calm.
“Now, if you don't mind stepping back, your cologne is giving me an incredible migraine and your breath smells like your dad's credit card mixed with pure disappointment. Move.”
The alpha stood frozen in shock, face turning a dangerous crimson as his jaw worked silently to construct a furious retaliation.
His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
His heavy pine pheromones surging in a frantic, toxic wave in an attempt to reassert control over the situation.
Before the bloated heir could spit out a single venomous word, a loud, booming shout shattered the tense air like a thunderclap.
“SEONGHWA-YAH!”
A sudden whirlwind of chaotic energy vaulted effortlessly over a nearby manicured boxwood hedge, landing on the granite pavers with a loud thud that vibrated straight through the ground.
Brittle autumn leaves exploded into the air around two well-worn sneakers.
Before Seonghwa could even register the wild intrusion or blink the fallen leaves out of his vision, a densely muscular arm clamped securely over his shoulders.
The sudden, overwhelming momentum yanked Seonghwa sideways, slamming him flush against a broad, solid chest that radiated an undeniable, grounding heat.
The suffocating cloud of synthetic pine was instantly pulverized, swept away by a breathtaking surge of rain soaked earth and sun kissed cedar.
Choi San had arrived, bringing with him a chaotic wave of pure life that completely broke the oppressive tension suffocating the courtyard.
“My bad for keeping you waiting, you gorgeous, grumpy, terrifying menace!”
San declared at the top of his lungs, uncaring of the wealthy onlookers around them.
He leaned down and pressed a loud, ridiculously wet kiss straight onto the side of Seonghwa's temple.
His grip tightening protectively around the smaller male's shoulder.
San looked like a disaster zone.
His hair pointed in every conceivable direction as if he had just survived a tornado, canvas backpack dangled off a single shoulder by a fraying strap and a vivid red smear of cheap diner ketchup sat boldly near his jawline.
He possessed the rare, potent bloodline of a top tier alpha, yet he habitually operated with the chaotic, boundary free enthusiasm of an overgrown golden retriever.
That goofy, sunlit energy vanished the exact millisecond his eyes drifted toward the three alphas still lurking over the bench.
The ridiculous grin melted off San's face so fast it felt like an illusion.
His posture shifted instantly.
His tall frame uncurled as his broad shoulders locked into a deadly, imposing wall that effectively shielded Seonghwa from the group.
A deep, subterranean vibration began to rumble low in his chest, rattling through the stone bench beneath them like distant thunder before a storm.
His scent changed dramatically, morphing from welcoming sunshine into a wave of warning and pure territorial dominance.
The air grew heavy, thick with the undeniable promise of conflict if anyone dared to take another step closer.
San stared down the rich heir, dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
“Do you guys need something?”
San asked, voice dropping into a pitch completely stripped of its former playfulness.
“Or were you just about to take off?”
The wealthy heir let out a harsh, dismissive scoff, though his feet instinctively retreated a full pace into the gravel.
Despite San lacking a prestigious family crest or an inheritance to back him up, his formidable physical build and reputation in a campus scrap were legendary.
Facing down that wall of muscle was a dangerous equation that the rich alpha had zero interest in solving on a chilly afternoon.
“Whatever. He is way too snobbish anyway. Go ahead and keep your little charity project, Choi.”
The heir sneered, voice cracking slightly under the strain of trying to preserve his bruised ego.
With a final, dramatic flick of his silk cuffs, he spun on his heel.
His two companions quickly fell into step behind him like disgraced bodyguards, the three of them hastily retreating toward the central library while muttering bitter, barely audible curses into the biting wind.
The second the trio rounded a distant marble pillar and slipped out of hearing range, the terrifying, crushing pressure of San's dominant alpha presence vanished completely.
The menacing aura evaporated into the cool autumn air, replaced once again by his comfortable, grounding scent of rain-soaked earth.
San instantly deflated.
His shoulders collapsed into a posture of complete exhaustion and he let out a dramatically loud, lingering groan that echoed off the marble walls of the fountain.
He practically dropped like a felled tree onto the freezing granite bench beside Seonghwa, slamming into his side with enough wild momentum to send Seonghwa sliding several inches across the stone.
The dry, half-eaten sandwich sitting on Seonghwa's tight tipped dangerously, nearly plunging into the dirt below.
“Ugh! I seriously despise these insufferable rich snobs!”
San grumbled into his open palms, dragging his fingers down his face until his cheeks were pulled into ridiculous, distorted shapes.
He let out a long sigh, chest heaving with a mix of leftover adrenaline and annoyance.
“I swear to you, hyung, one of these days I am going to sink my teeth into one of their little arms just to figure out if they actually bleed solid gold.”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes in exasperation, planting his palm against San’s broad shoulder to shove the massive alpha away.
The sudden push barely budged the larger boy but San obligingly shifted his weight back just enough to restore a few precious centimeters of personal space on the crowded granite bench.
A tiny, involuntary smile twitched at the corner of Seonghwa’s lips despite his exhausting afternoon, though he quickly masked it beneath a look of practiced annoyance.
He gestured vaguely toward San’s face, eyeing the bright red smear near his friend's jawline with exaggerated disgust.
“Please, don't do that..”
Seonghwa murmured, voice softening as the wind scattered a rustling blanket of dried oak leaves across their worn shoes.
“You would probably catch some bizarre, incurable disease from their arrogance. Besides, clean your face off. You have a giant streak of ketchup smeared across your cheek. Did you seriously eat another greasy hotdog for lunch?”
San let out a dramatic scoff, plunging his hand into the cavernous pocket of his faded jacket.
He dragged out a thoroughly crumpled, linty tissue and began scrubbing violently at his cheek, turning his smooth skin a splotchy, inflamed pink in the process.
“Yahh, for your information, that was a highly nutritional hotdog.”
San defended himself, tossing the ruined tissue back into his pocket.
His eyes glinted with warm humor as he glanced down at the squished, unappetizing triangle of cheap convenience store bread resting on Seonghwa’s knee.
“Look who is talking, by the way. You are sitting here trying to digest literal cardboard wrapped in crinkly plastic.”
San unceremoniously swung his battered, overstuffed canvas backpack around to his lap.
The brass zipper squeaked loudly as he yanked it open, shoving aside tangled headphone cords, messy lecture notes and hardcover textbooks.
From the bottom of the clutter, he retrieved a heavy glass container wrapped carefully in a clean, thick hand towel.
He unknotted the cloth with surprisingly tender care, revealing a steaming tupperware that radiated a comforting heat into the bitter air.
The mouthwatering aroma of sweet soy marinade, toasted sesame oil and freshly cooked white rice instantly burst forth, completely overpowering the sour, artificial scents hovering around the university courtyard.
“My mom sent up a massive care package of side dishes yesterday evening.”
San said, playful tone softening into sincerity as he pressed the warm container directly into Seonghwa’s numb hands.
“She spent hours packing proper rice and homemade bulgogi specifically for you. Eat every single bite before you pass out from malnutrition and force me to drag your skinny ass back to the campus health clinic like you did last semester.”
Seonghwa stared down at the glass dish cradled in his palms, feeling the radiant heat seep directly into his fingertips.
A tight, painful knot formed in the back of his throat as a sudden wave of warmth surged through his chest, aggressively fighting the bone deep cold and soul crushing fatigue that had settled into his ribs.
He knew better than anyone that San's family survived on a tight budget too.
Money was always scarce in their household, yet San's mother constantly went out of her way to ensure Seonghwa received a hot, homemade meal whenever possible.
“Sannie, you really did not have to do this..”
Seonghwa whispered softly, voice completely stripped of its sarcasm and defensive edges.
San let out a bright, affectionate laugh, bumping his broad shoulder gently against Seonghwa's to nudge him.
“Just quiet down and stuff your face.”
San grinned, eyes sparkling with fond humor.
“You get wildly cranky when you are starving. While watching you verbally dismantle arrogant alphas in public is undeniably impressive, it practically gives me a heart attack worrying about your safety.”
“They were the ones who provoked me.”
Seonghwa mumbled under his breath, using his thumb to unlatch the plastic snaps on the container.
The second the lid lifted, a rich, mouthwatering cloud of braised beef drifted into the frosty afternoon air.
Seonghwa's empty stomach instantly let out a loud, aggressive growl that echoed off the granite fountain behind them.
“They truly believe that driving luxury vehicles bought by their wealthy fathers gives them permission to treat anyone from a lower income bracket like trash.”
Seonghwa grumbled, cheeks flushing slightly from his body's loud betrayals.
“You are totally right. They are idiots.”
San agreed without a second of hesitation.
Before Seonghwa could even pick up a spoon, San brazenly reached into the dish with his bare fingers and snatched a choice strip of succulent meat.
Seonghwa reflexively aimed a stinging slap at the back of his friend's hand but San easily weathered the strike with a satisfied smirk, popping the stolen bite into his mouth and chewing victoriously.
A sudden ripple of commotion sliced through the afternoon near the arched iron gates of the courtyard entrance.
The ambient hum of hundreds of chatting students plummeted in a single beat, dissolving into a breathless, excited murmur that swept across the campus like a sudden draft.
All around the granite plaza, people froze mid-stride.
Conversations died mid-sentence, coffee cups were held suspended in midair and dozens of heads snapped around in perfect synchronization.
Dozens of high-end smartphones slipped out of tailored coat pockets, glass screens flashing in the pale light as students jockeyed for a clean camera angle.
A sleek, imposing black Maybach glided into the drop-off zone with an eerie, whisper-quiet grace.
Its polished obsidian bodywork mirrored the surrounding marble pillars, gleaming with an obscenely high gloss that practically screamed infinite money.
The tinted, midnight-black windows offered zero glimpse of the occupants inside, yet the vehicle's pure presence commanded immediate, submissive silence from the crowd.
Even the arrogant alphas who had been bothering Seonghwa moments prior seemed to shrink into the background, petty bravado completely eclipsed by the arrival of untouchable authority.
The wooden spoon in Seonghwa's hand stalled inches above the steaming glass container.
The comforting warmth of the home-cooked bulgogi suddenly lost its magic, drowned out by the cloud of anticipation settling over the plaza.
He slowly lowered the food back into his lap, fingers tightening around the edge of the tupperware as an irritated scowl carved its way across his striking features.
He stared at the gleaming, gold-accented trim of the luxury sedan.
His eyes narrow into twin slits of pure cynicism.
“Aww~ fantastic.”
Seonghwa muttered under his breath, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned back against the bench.
“Looks like the main circus finally decided to pull up.”
A white-gloved driver stepped out into the air, swiftly rounding the hood of the Maybach to open the rear passenger door.
The quiet buzzing across the courtyard instantly swelled into an intense, feverish crescendo of overlapping chatter.
Dozens of eyes locked onto the dark glass, students leaning over one another in an attempt to capture the moment on their phones.
“Is that actually him?”
Someone squeaked nearby, voice trembling with excitement.
“I heard a rumor that his family enterprise just casually acquired the entire southern commercial block in Gangnam.”
Another student whispered frantically.
“My god, I can literally catch his scent from all the way over here. It is ridiculously incredible.”
Seonghwa observed the whole ridiculous spectacle with a look of thinly veiled disgust, jaw tightening as a man emerged from the luxury interior.
Even at a distance across the wide plaza, the man's presence produced an almost physical weight.
An oppressive wave of unquestioned power flooded the surrounding space, instantly smothering the minor scents of the surrounding crowd.
The newcomer was not particularly towering in height, yet he carried himself with an effortless authority that magnetically pulled the gaze of every single soul in the courtyard.
He was draped in a suit tailored with surgical precision to accentuate his sharp shoulders, sleek dark hair styled to flawless perfection without a single strand out of place.
“That is Kim Hongjoong.”
San mumbled beside him, cheek bulging awkwardly with a mouth full of stolen rice as he tracked the grand entrance.
“He is the youngest tech CEO in the entire country and the head Alpha of the Kim dynasty. People say he cleared his throat yesterday and the national stock market took a nose dive.”
Seonghwa stared down at the figure, feeling a flare of instinctual resentment spark beneath his ribs.
His sore, overworked muscles screamed in protest at the mere sight of such untouched privilege.
“He looks like he has never broken a real sweat or suffered through a single day of honest labor in his pampered existence.”
Seonghwa spat under his breath, eyes burning with pure venom.
Standing beside the gleaming door of his luxury sedan, Hongjoong paused mid-gesture.
His long fingers lingering against a platinum cufflink that caught the brittle afternoon light.
He surveyed the bustling courtyard with an air of supreme, effortless boredom, treating the sea of whispering onlookers as though they were merely background scenery in his private world.
His sharp gaze drifted lazily across the stone plaza, cutting through the swirling dry leaves until it suddenly snagged on the bench where Seonghwa sat.
Even across twenty yards of open space, the impact of that dark stare sliced through the chilly air, striking Seonghwa with a physical jolt.
The look was steeped in unearned arrogance detachment, embodying every single systemic cruelty that Seonghwa fought against daily.
Instead of shrinking back or offering the docile submission expected of an omega, Seonghwa refused to break eye contact.
He sat against the granite, hands locked tightly around his warm dish of food and narrowed his eyes into twin blades of pure fury.
He poured every drop of his bone-deep exhaustion, bitter anger and smoldering hatred for the elite into that solitary glare, silently daring the untouchable alpha to acknowledge the quiet war sparking between them.
Across the wide plaza, the powerful alpha's clinical composure wavered for a single microsecond.
The sharp arch of Hongjoong's left eyebrow twitched upward a tiny fraction of an inch, silently registering the unyielding defiance burning from the bench.
A slow arrogant smirk curled the corner of his lips, radiating quiet, dangerous amusement.
Without granting another second of his attention to the ordinary students gawking around him, Hongjoong turned his back on the courtyard.
Flanked closely by two towering, dark suited security personnel who cleared a path through the lingering leaves, he glided effortlessly toward the private glass entrance of the business faculty VIP wing.
Beside Seonghwa, San sat glued to the stone.
His jaw dropped open while his wide eyes bounced between the retreating billionaire and his best friend.
He let out a choked, breathless gasp.
His expression is a chaotic mess of awe and terror.
“Are you completely insane?”
San squeaked out, clutching his crumpled paper napkin with white knuckles.
“Did you seriously just lock eyes and have a full blown staring match with Kim Hongjoong?’
A wave of bitter resentment surged through Seonghwa's chest, hot against the freezing autumn air.
He gripped his wooden chopsticks with a fist and plunged them violently into the thick pile of steaming rice, driving the wooden tips straight down until they slammed into the plastic bottom of the container.
“He is nothing but an insufferable, spoiled brat wrapped inside an overpriced suit.”
Seonghwa spat, eyes burning with rage as the VIP wing's heavy glass doors swung shut behind the CEO.
“He is just another pretentious elite who believes the entire solar system orbits around his bank account. If I ever have to breathe the same air as him again, it will still be an eternity too soon.”
San let out a raspy, awkward laugh that rattled softly in his throat, extending his thick arm once again to drape over Seonghwa's shoulders.
He squeezed his best friend into a loose hug, attempting to dissipate the residual static electricity still crackling through the air.
“Honestly, it is a huge relief that you are buried in art and education while he handles whatever terrifying corporate nonsense he does.”
San said, tone turning lighter as he tried to put the whole incident behind them.
“You two literally exist in completely separate dimensions. There is zero chance your paths are ever going to cross.”
“Good.”
Seonghwa snapped back, voice crisp and uncompromising.
He aggressively scooped up a massive mouthful of tender beef and cooked rice, chewing with a fierce, punishing intensity as if trying to grind his residual anger into nothingness.
“Keep all that rich trash as far away from my sight as humanly possible. I actually have a real life to build.”
Seonghwa forced his gaze back down toward the creased, bright yellow highlighted pages of the massive volume resting on his lap.
The dense paragraphs of academic jargon blurred together into meaningless ink blobs, completely eclipsed by the vivid memory of Kim Hongjoong's razor sharp smirk.
The mocking expression burned behind Seonghwa's eyelids like a fresh scar, refusing to fade no matter how firmly he squeezed his eyes shut against the cold.
He sat motionless on the granite, pulling his frayed sweater sleeves over his knuckles while the chilly breeze swept dead leaves around the rim of the central fountain.
In that quiet, bitter moment, Seonghwa had no way of knowing that cosmic fate possessed a cruel and sadistic sense of humor.
Crouched on that icy stone with a borrowed lunch, he remained oblivious to the reality that his fragile world was about to shatter and his destructive collision with Korea's untouchable Golden Boy was only just beginning.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──