http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fR_iLNgrhLo

Yong Junhyung was an extremely bright individual. His grades were as close to perfect as humanly possible, he was good at sports, and he was writing his own raps. He spoke three different languages fluently, read literature for fun, and has a thorough understanding of art and theatre. No one could say he wasn’t talented and neither could any one say that he was patient with people who were less so, especially if those people has the nerve to try to tell him what to do.

The assistant music teacher, whose name he could never quite remember, was one such person. Bumbling, forgetful, and, quite frankly, not particularly bright, he was little more than a glorified errand boy whose sole purpose was to fetch Park~seonsangnim’s coffee and worship the ground his betters walked on. Normally this didn't bother Junhyung terribly. It wasn't like he actually had to speak to the man often. When he did it was usually only to give a short order.

Unfortunately, every dog has its day eventually, and today seemed to be the assistant's. Park~seonsangnim was out helping one of the advanced music students with something and when a competent substitute could not be arranged control of the class had fallen to what's-his-name.

This too would have been perfectly fine if the man had simply assigned the class a reading or a worksheet. Hell, he even could have given them a free period like a normal sub. Instead, he puffed up with misplaced self-importance he decides to give a lecture.

It was an epic failure.

He stuttered and stumbled over his words, his handwriting was nearly illegible, and Junhyung was running out of fingers with which to count the number of flat out factual mistakes the man was making. It was, he decided, an utter disgrace. However, genius or not, he was still a student and therefore, was bound by politeness to listen to the idiot babble.

Just as he has settled in for the long haul, resigned to the fact that there was no escape, salvation arrived. The only warning they were given was three short knocks on the door before it burst open.

" . . . And this is only one of the many classrooms in SMent's music wing. Renown throughout the country for its state of the art conveniences and world class practice instruments it is one of the school's main attractions–" the voice of the woman giving the tour was brittle, her cheer obviously false.

"Ah, Kim-seonsangnim," The assistant perked up at the woman's entrance already dying for a larger audience and a new chance to show off, "What a pleasant surprise! You're doing the tour today aren't you? Why don't you bring your group in here? Let them observe the class for a while."

He was pathetically, puppy dog eager, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. The woman looked skeptical about the idea but after a few questions on the whereabouts of the actual teacher she consented, almost as eager to foist the kids on someone else as the assistant took them.

He turned his attention to the bunch of new students and clapped his hands cheerfully. Junhyung felt himself die a little inside.

"My name is Kim Youngwoon and k