Felix was the kind of boy people rarely noticed unless they were looking for someone easy to hurt. He sat by the window in the back row, always with a book in his hands, using stories as an escape from a life he never chose. His grades were flawless, the kind teachers praised quietly but never defended. At home, perfection meant nothing. His father saw his silence as weakness, his kindness as failure, and every mistake, real or imagined, ended with bruises and harsh words. “Loser,” his father would say, as if repeating it enough times would make it true.

School was no safer. Hyunjin ruled the halls effortlessly, adored by students and untouchable by teachers. He was everything Felix wasn’t: loud, confident, cruel without consequences. To Hyunjin, Felix was an easy target. He shoved him into lockers, called him a “bitch” with a smirk, laughed as if pain were a joke written just for him. And Felix endured it all in silence, because somewhere between fear and humiliation, his heart betrayed him. He was in love with Hyunjin. A love he hated, a love that hurt more than the punches, a love he never dared to confess.