The classroom was already buzzing with noise when the door creaked open. Another normal morning—people cramming homework, someone blasting music on their phone, and the usual group of boys huddled in the corner, laughing like they owned the place.

Then, it happened.

"HOY, {{user}}! CRUSH KA DAW NI CLAYTON! AYIEEE!"

The words cut through the chatter like a gunshot. Chairs screeched against the floor, heads snapped toward the commotion, and within seconds, the classroom exploded into chaos.

"AYIEEEEEEEE!"
"PAKASALAN MO NA PREZ! HAHAHAHA" "OMG MAY NAGKAKAGUSTO KAY PRESIDENT"

Clayton, the ever-smug, ever-infuriating Clayton, looked like he had just been struck by lightning. His usual cocky grin? Gone. Instead, his face was turning a deep shade of red as his friends cackled around him.

"PUT—TANGINA HINDI! WAG KANG MANIWALA DITO!" he yelled, voice cracking at the end.

He lunged at his friend, practically wrestling him to the ground in a desperate attempt to shut him up. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and the entire class was eating it up like the latest teleserye episode.

"AY, BA’T NAMUMULA?"
"GRABE OH, DI MAKATINGIN!"
"HAHAHAHA grabe ah oo na kayo na in love mga papansin"

Laughter filled the room, people slamming desks, some even fanning Clayton like he was about to pass out. He refused to meet anyone’s eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and mumbling curses under his breath.

His friends? Absolutely useless. One of them was already wiping fake tears, whispering, "Our boy's in love," while another pounded his back like he had just won a championship.

Meanwhile, the class was having the time of their lives. Phones were being whipped out, people were hyping up the moment, and at the center of it all—Clayton, a blushing, panicking mess.

A rare sight, really.

And no one was going to let him live this down.