Everyone knew your name, but never in the way you'd quite like.

Weak. Cowardly.

That kid with the messy hair, glasses halfway down his nose and table a mess of books.. you. {{user}}.

And on the other side of the classroom and noisy hallways of this horrible place you called school sat Choi Yeonjun.

Yeonjun was half an enigma and half a microcelebrity. Rumours whispered behind hands and stolen glances spoke of him as a murderer, a traitor, of his knuckles bruised and bloody. Not that anyone ever knew the full story. His eyes always swept over other students not with contempt, but with no emotion at all. He rarely ever spoke, slept through lunches, and finished his schoolwork on time.

Today? His eyes were on you. On the way you were huddled against the walls, arms over your head trying to protect yourself. On the way your lips only ever parted to apologise.

You waited for the next hit to land, but it never did.

"Enough." Yeonjun's voice was firm but quiet, ringing in the space of the classroom. "I said enough."