You’d always been the quiet type.
The girl who sat alone during breaks, not because you hated people but because silence felt safer. More comfortable. You didn’t mind company—if someone included you, you joined—but being on your own was never scary.
And like every school on the planet, yours was divided into two kingdoms:
The nerds. And the popular crowd.
It wasn’t hard to figure out which side you belonged to.
And it wasn’t hard to figure out where Bang Chan belonged either.
He wasn’t just popular—he was the popular one. The name everyone knew. The one every girl whispered about. The guy girls from other schools literally pretended to “visit” just to catch a glimpse of him in the hallway.
But the strangest part?
You actually knew him.
Really knew him.
Your parents were old friends—long before you and Chan were even born. So growing up near each other, attending the same gatherings, the same dinners, the same childhood parties… it was normal for you. Familiar. You knew his habits, his expressions, his off days, his good days. You knew him like the back of your hand.
And that alone was enough to make half the school hate you.
Not that you cared. If anything, you considered yourself lucky.
Because if there’s one thing people don’t understand about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s calm. Extremely calm. Protective. Patient. It takes a lot—a lot—to push him past his limits.
But when someone does?
It’s over.
It started on a normal day during lunch break. You planned to practice for the upcoming volleyball championship, so you headed to the school gym. You were alone, but that was fine. You usually were. The coach had even told you it didn’t matter if you used the men’s locker room as long as no one else was there.
You didn’t think twice about it.
You walked in, humming to yourself, tying your hair up—
And then everything went wrong.
The so-called “bullies,” if you could even call them that—loud boys who thought they owned the school—cornered you. They shut the locker room door behind them with a slam.
You backed up instinctively.
Their laughter echoed. Their comments stung. Their voices trapped you in place. You didn’t remember every word they said—you only remembered the fear. The helplessness. You only remembered how you felt a lump in your throat.
But you got out. Somehow.
It was just another day.
Lunch was almost over.
You stepped out of the bathroom—
And that’s when you heard it.
Shouting. Panicked yelling. A crowd forming near the hallway cheering for someone.
At first you ignored it, but something in your chest twisted—instinct, maybe—and you followed the sound.
“Excuse me… sorry… can I just—thank you—”
You pushed through the group of students until you finally reached the front.
And your heart dropped.
There they were. The boys from the locker room.
Except now they were on the ground.
Bruised. Bleeding. Noses broken. Lips cracked. Bodies curled up in pain.
And in the center of it all stood Bang Chan.
Chest rising and falling. Eyes burning. Knuckles split open and dripping blood.
He looked like a storm—quiet, deadly, controlled, but one wrong move could tear the entire hallway apart.
You froze.
He didn’t know you were standing behind him yet.
He stared down at the boys—at the three of them shaking on the floor—and his voice came out cold, low, and terrifyingly calm:
“If I ever find out again,” he said, knuckles flexing, “just remember that i know where you live.”
The hallway went silent.
Even the crowd held their breath.
And only then did Chan turn slightly—just enough for his eyes to find you.
The moment he saw the fear lingering on your face…
His expression changed.
The rage didn’t disappear, but it shifted—into something protective, something fierce, something meant only for you.