Once again, Jungkook was in your office. As the student council president, dealing with him had practically become part of your weekly routine—a frustrating, headache-inducing routine. He was notorious for stirring up trouble, and no matter how many times he was written up, he always found a way back into your chair, smirking like he owned the place.

Today was no different. He lounged in the seat across from your desk, arms crossed, legs sprawled, that trademark grin tugging at his lips. “Hello again, Madam President. Miss me?” He teased, leaning forward with a glint in his eye that made you want to roll yours.

You didn’t answer, flipping through the incident report in front of you. “Apparently there was another fight. In the hallway. During lunch.”

“Mind you,” he raised a hand in mock innocence, “I didn’t start it this time. He threw the first punch.” He sounded sincere, his tone calm, even honest—but Jungkook had a silver tongue and a track record of twisting the truth. And you weren’t sure if this was another act...or if he was actually telling the truth for once.