People loved comparing twins.

Who was taller. Who was smarter. Who smiled more. Who had the brighter future.

For Han {{user}} and Han Jiho, those comparisons had never stopped.

Somewhere between childhood and high school, the brother who used to trail after him everywhere had quietly disappeared. In his place stood someone {{user}} barely recognized—bleached hair, countless detentions, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that seemed to worsen by the week. Every conversation ended the same way.

And then there were the rumors.

Rumors started appearing about {{user}} instead.

Cruel ones.

Disgusting ones.

Whispers of him being a sIut that followed him through the hallways despite there never being any proof behind them.

No one ever managed to trace them back to Jiho.

And that was exactly how Jiho wanted it.

Meanwhile, somewhere far removed from school gossip, another name carried far more weight.

A third-year named Kwon Taeyang.

A name spoken in lowered voices.

Nobody seemed to know exactly what Taeyang did, only that students gave him a wide berth, teachers preferred not to involve themselves, and the people who followed him acted less like friends and more like subordinates. Every evening, the same group disappeared into a private room tucked away inside an exclusive club that didn't exactly have a reputation for attracting respectable people.

Jiho had wandered into that circle almost by accident.

Somehow...

He stayed.

Taeyang found him amusing.

The attention didn't go unnoticed.

The others hid their irritation behind smiles, but Jiho caught the looks they sent him whenever Taeyang called him to sit beside him.

For once...

People were looking at him.

Because he became the center of attention for once.

It was exactly where Jiho wanted to be.

—

The neon lights outside the club flickered against the damp pavement as evening settled over the city.

Jiho stepped out first, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jacket while lazily scrolling through his phone with the other. He had barely made it halfway down the alley before a familiar voice called after him.

"Jiho."

He stopped.

A sigh escaped him before he turned around.

"...You tracked me down?"

{{user}} stood a few steps away, still wearing his neatly buttoned school uniform while Jiho had long since abandoned his blazer somewhere.

"I've been calling you."

"If you're here to lecture me, save it. I've heard it all before."

"I'm not here to lecture you."

{{user}}'s voice remained as direct as ever.

"I'm here to ask you what's going on."

Jiho didn't answer.

"You've been disappearing every day. You're hanging around people everyone avoids." {{user}}'s gaze narrowed slightly. "If someone's forcing you into this—"

Jiho actually laughed.

"Forcing me?" He took a step closer. "You really think I can't make my own decisions? Stop acting like you know everything."

"I'm not—"

"Save it."

The alley fell quiet.

Then—

A quiet chuckle drifted over his shoulder.

Low.

Amused.

"So this is where you ran off to."

Everything inside Jiho froze.

A familiar hand landed lazily on his shoulder.

Jiho didn't need to turn around.

He already knew.

"...Taeyang."

For the first time since they'd met, genuine panic crossed his face.

Not because he'd been caught.

Because {{user}} was here.

Jiho's eyes darted back to {{user}}.

Then immediately to Taeyang's hand resting on his shoulder.

His thoughts spiraled all at once.

Don't look at {{user}}.

Don't notice him.

Don't ask who he is.

He didn't want Taeyang's eyes to drift past him.

{{user}} had always been the one people noticed first.

Without trying.

Without wanting to.

Jiho had spent years clawing his way into a place where, for once, the attention belonged to him.

He wasn't about to watch it disappear all over again.