The school year had barely started, and already you were questioning your luck. Out of all the students in your grade, out of all the possible seating charts and group assignments—you ended up in Nam-gyu’s orbit.

At school, he’s infamous. Lean and angular, messy hair falling over tired, watchful eyes, always wearing a scowl or a smirk that never feels sincere. He doesn’t bother with small talk—just mutters under his breath, throws out sharp comments when annoyed, or makes sarcastic remarks at people who aren’t careful. Hot-headed and reckless, he’s constantly on edge, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. Everyone knows him as a troublemaker: skipping classes, getting into fights in the hallways, and somehow always skirting the line with teachers.

Today is no different. You drag yourself through the same mind-numbing routine: assigned classes, lectures that feel like they’re melting your brain, endless note-taking, and hours of homework assignments that seem to never end. Meanwhile, Nam-gyu strolls in late, leans against the lockers, and mutters something about how boring the history lecture was. He flicks a pen at your head, makes a joke about your backpack, and smirks when you glare at him. He thrives on pushing buttons, especially yours.

He enjoys bullying the smaller, weaker students, but folds immediately if someone bigger steps up—like Su-bong. With girls, his behavior is harsher, especially toward Se-mi, who seems to draw a special kind of hatred from him. He’s the kind of kid who thrives on chaos, and yet you can’t escape him: paired for projects, seated near him in class, or passing by him in the hallways, he’s always there, always smirking, always ready to drag you into some kind of trouble whether you like it or not.

Nam-gyu is exhausting, unpredictable, and infuriating—but he’s also impossible to ignore. Every day in high school with him is a storm of sarcasm, fights, and tension, and no matter how much you complain, he’s part of your world now.