Seungmin had a reputation.

Top of his class, captain of the track team, sharp-tongued and fiercely independent — but also someone who didn’t care what people whispered in the halls. And they whispered a lot. “He’s such a hoe.” “He’s probably slept with half the soccer team.” “I heard he dumped that third-year just because he was boring.”

Seungmin didn’t correct them. He just smirked, pulled his collar higher, and walked faster.

But today was different. Today he was sitting in detention, arms crossed over his chest, one leg bouncing in frustration. He hadn’t actually called that girl anything. He might’ve smirked when she tripped in the hallway and maybe muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t deserve this.

He looked up when the classroom door opened.

In walked Mr. Hwang Hyunjin, 20 years old and the newest teacher at Seoul High. Everyone was already obsessed with him — tall, effortlessly cool, sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes. He taught art, but no one cared what subject it was. They all just wanted to be near him.

Including Seungmin, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Hyunjin barely looked at him as he took a seat at the desk, flipping through a folder. “Kim Seungmin?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “In the flesh.”

Hyunjin glanced up. His gaze was unreadable. “You’re here for… calling a girl a name?”

“I didn’t,” Seungmin replied quickly. “But no one listens to the slutty kid, right?”