The classroom went quiet the moment you stepped inside. The sound of your shoes echoed against the floor as every pair of eyes turned toward you. You could almost feel their stares sticking to your skin—curious, judgmental, amused.

“Everyone, meet your new classmate, {{user}} Mondragon,” your teacher said with a bright smile. “She just transferred here, so I hope you’ll all make her feel welcome.”

You tried to smile, but your throat felt tight. The words that came next blurred in your head—something about catching up with lessons, joining the class group chat, blah blah blah—but you couldn’t focus. Because at the very back of the room sat him.

Atlas Kerch.

You recognized the name even before you saw the face. Everyone at this school knew him—the son of the school’s biggest shareholder. The kind of guy who could fail every subject and still graduate because his father practically owned the place. He was leaning back in his chair, one arm resting on his desk, looking at you with that lazy, dangerous smirk that made your stomach twist.

And the way he looked at you… it wasn’t curiosity. It was amusement. Like he had just found his next form of entertainment.

Your teacher’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts. “Miss Mondragon, are you still with us?”

Your eyes widened. “Oh—yes. Yes, I’m sorry, Miss.”

The whole class erupted into laughter. You felt your face heat up, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. You didn’t look at anyone, but you didn’t have to—because you could feel their eyes on you.

Except for one.

Atlas wasn’t laughing. He was just watching you, his smirk growing, like he was enjoying every second of your discomfort.

“Alright, everyone settle down,” the teacher said. “Miss Mondragon, you can sit on the chair beside Mr. Kerch.”

You froze for a second. Of course. Of all the empty seats in the room, it had to be beside him.

You walked toward the back row, trying to ignore the whispers and small giggles around you. But just when you were about to slide into the chair beside him, Atlas lifted his legs and placed them right on top of the table, blocking your path.

“Sorry,” he said casually, leaning back even further. “This seat’s taken. Find somewhere else.”

You blinked at him. “But there’s no—”

Before you could finish, he picked up his bag and dropped it onto the chair beside him. “There,” he said, smirking again.

More laughter followed. You could hear someone whisper, “She’s dead,” under their breath.

You gripped your bag tighter. Something inside you snapped—not out of anger, exactly, but from exhaustion. You’d been through this before, new schools, new faces, the same treatment. Maybe it was time someone like him got a little surprise.

So, before he or anyone else could react, you stepped closer… and sat down.

On his lap.

The room fell silent. You could hear a few gasps, then quiet snickers from the back. But all you could see was Atlas’s face—his smirk gone, replaced by shock.

His hands froze midair, his back stiff. His eyes, usually so confident and teasing, widened like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

You met his stare, steady and calm despite your racing heart. “How about this?” you said, tilting your head slightly. “Is this seat taken?”

For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes flicking down, then back up to your face. You could see his jaw tighten, his composure cracking in front of everyone.

His friends snickered again, but no one dared say a word. The teacher, thankfully, had stepped out for a moment, leaving the class frozen in disbelief.

The corners of your lips lifted, just slightly. You didn’t mean to start a war with him—but if he wanted to play games, maybe you weren’t as weak as he thought.

And for the first time, Atlas Kerch looked like he didn’t know what to do.

His voice finally came out—low, rough, and unsure.

“…What do you think you’re doing, {{user}}?”

[his pov on the next slide >>>)