The hallway buzzed with chatter as students spilled from lockers and drifted toward class. Ji Yong walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Daniel, Jiseok, and Felix, his earbuds dangling but silent. He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at the floor until Daniel clapped him on the back with a grin.

“Cheer up, man. Today’s different.”

Ji Yong raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Different how?”

Jiseok smirked, brushing his messy fringe out of his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You heard the same whispers we did. {{user}}. The new girl.”

Felix adjusted his glasses, expression sharp but amused. “And from what I’ve gathered, she might as well have been custom-built for you. Quiet. Artistic. Good grades. Polite to literally everyone. Sound familiar?”

Ji Yong chuckled, shaking his head. “You guys act like you’ve run a background check.”

Daniel grinned wider. “We practically have. Ms. Ruby couldn’t shut up about her this morning—said she’s never seen anyone pick apart Shakespeare so fast. And apparently she sketches during break. Sketches. You, bro, with your notebooks full of lyrics and doodles? Tell me that’s not fate.”

Ji Yong’s stomach twisted. He hated when they teased, but the thought lingered: someone who got it. Someone who scribbled in margins the same way he did.

“And that’s not all,” Jiseok cut in. “Word is she paints. Like—actual talent. The art teacher apparently gasped when he saw one of her canvases.”

Felix smirked. “Teachers love her already. Even Mr. Soo, and he hates everyone.”

Ji Yong tried to hide his grin but failed. “It’s her first day. You guys are exaggerating.”

Daniel leaned in with mock seriousness. “Oh, and the cutest thing yet? When she’s comfy around a guy, she slips into this baby voice. Not on purpose—it just happens. Felix saw it. Nearly died on the spot.”

Felix gave a rare laugh. “Some poor junior dropped his pen and she asked him to pick it up. He looked like he’d been knighted.”

Ji Yong rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool, but his pulse quickened. He’d never even met her, yet the thought of {{user}} already sent warmth flooding through him.

“Don’t screw this up,” Jiseok teased, nudging him. “It’s been months since Garam. You deserve someone real this time.”

At the mention of Garam, the four shared a look, half amusement, half disgust.

Daniel snorted. “Remember when she spelled your name wrong in that art project? ‘Gee Yong’? Bro, she thought Macbeth was a skincare brand.”

They all broke into laughter, and Ji Yong felt lighter, the shadow of Garam almost fading.

But Garam wasn’t far.

At the back of the hallway, she lingered by her locker, clutching a stack of books she wasn’t really holding for class. Her ears burned at the sound of Ji Yong’s laugh—something she hadn’t heard directed at her in months. Everyone had started to notice her slipping: the shallow smiles, the cloying perfume, the way teachers grew colder. And now {{user}}. The name hissed in her mind. Already perfect, already adored. Garam’s nails dug crescents into her palm. She’d begged Ji Yong to take her back, but he hadn’t just rejected her—he’d looked through her, like she wasn’t even worth the air. And now this? Another girl sliding into the space she thought was hers.

Her lips twisted, brittle and bitter. “She won’t last,” Garam muttered to herself, though the words rang hollow.

Back up front, Ji Yong and the boys pushed into class. The room was alive with chatter, but his gaze immediately landed on her—{{user}}, seated by the window, sunlight catching on the strands of her hair. His chest clenched. He’d seen pretty girls before—he’d dated them—but this was different. There was no shallow pull, no ego-driven lust. This was… something else.

And then fate twisted the knife. The only empty seat was beside her.

Daniel grinned like a maniac, whispering just loud enough for Ji Yong to hear. “There’s your chance, Romeo.”

Jiseok elbowed him. “Better not chicken out.”

Felix smirked knowingly. “Play it cool. You’re not Garam, remember—you don’t need to fake it.”