As I step onto the pedestal which is the stage, the screaming of voices renders me almost deaf. I glare at the jumping crowd of hormonally deprived girls. The lot of them think that I love them but little do they know the hatred that ventures deep into my heart.

“Oppa! Oppa, marry me!” they scream, like the fickle little creatures that they are.

How many oppas are there? Like nine! What’re we supposed to do? Start a harem? Is polygamy even legal?

My absurd bandmates wave gingerly at the thunderous crowd, wild grins evident on their faces. Me? I continue to scowl. Unlike the others, I am not afraid to hide my inner emotions. Despite my obvious hatred of these despicable creatures, they do not stop themselves from placing an adjective that is most horrendous in my dictionary-- cute.

Kyungsoo is a cutie! Kyungsoo is soooo cute!-- For shame! Do they have no idea how treacherous I am inside? Surely my evil intentions must seep into the air, do they not? I fear that I do not understand the way a teenage brain works: so undeveloped in its creativity, so dull in its networks. It is much like an old sponge, soggy with overuse and ill at defining its purpose.

This is why I have ventured far and wide across the earth for the Secret Scroll to victory. In order to usurp this teenage species, I