To any onlooker, Yuta would seem to be constipated with the face he had on right now. He stared at the boy who rejected him coldly, who was a neglector of beauty and clearly couldn't recognize good talent and perfection that was Nakamoto Yuta. He just couldn't comprehend how anyone, especially Hansol, be able to reject him so flatly. He wasn't convinced with the rumors that Hansol was the biggest weirdo, because he's come across some strange kids at parties, but no... Yuta was certain now that all the rumors were true.

Yuta finally turned his head away from the boy because his neck was aching from the angle he had it at, but he still looked constipated with his eyebrows furrowed and a small pout on his lips. His seat mate finally had enough of Yuta unknowingly sighing heavily, smacking his teeth, kicking his feet and mumbling under his breath curse words in Japanese.

"Hey, can you please stop? It's distracting," The boy with the name tag, 'Moon Taeil.'

Moon Taeil. He recognizes that name. It's the same name that's always at the top in the class ranks and always places him obnoxiously at second. Nothing was worse than being second place. It was just taunting in every single aspect to Yuta. Like yeah, you tried your best but it still isn't good enough. He considered Taeil the only person he could call his rival, because he was obviously above everyone else in every single aspect. 

Yuta simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, sinking into his seat deeper and turning back to look at Hansol. Was this kid even paying attention at all? He's had his face deep into the textbook, completely zoning out the rest of the classmates for the whole period. Not only was Hansol blind to good looks, but he was also a slacker.

"God, he's such an ..." Yuta mumbled under his breath.

"What was that, Yuta? Mind sharing it to the rest of the class?" The teacher walks over to Yuta's desk in the way front.

The class seem to be shocked to see the scholar student none other than Nakamoto Yuta be scolded on the first day. Yuta looks up at the teacher, nervously fiddling with the pencil in hand and covering his notebook with nothing written in it. 

"N-Nothing, sir..." Yuta mumbled, "Just reading out loud."

The teacher shrugs and walks back to the front of the blackboard. Taeil tries hard to withold his giggles, making Yuta scrowl furthur until the door opens. As if by instinct at this point, Yuta looks at Hansol first before the door, and yes, for the first time today he's seen the boy react to something.

Hansol plays around with the ends of his uniform blazer as he watched intently the boy who brought in a heavy presence into the room. But the presence wasn't the same anymore. It was almost a parody for the dark face the boy had, who was none other than Lee Taeyong. The boy who had faked it all.

"You can go take a seat next to... Hansol, Taeyong." Even the teacher spoke to him casually, instead of the heavily induced scared tone that everyone spoke around him.

While Taeyong walked over to take a seat next to the school's joke himself, the students whispered and snickered to one another. Everyone and their mother had seen the video of Taeyong being absolutely wrecked by the small Thai boy, Chittaphon. It was in tweets, snapchat stories, blogs, absolutely everywhere on the internet. The boy had lost his grip with seniority and was now the other half of the school's joke, joining pathetic gentle giant Ji Hansol.

Taeyong pretended to ignore the comments thrown at him and his new seat partner. He was always good at pulling a straight face, he's practiced for so long that it was just natural now. Hansol was the same. No matter how many words you threw at the two, they were unfazed and nonchalant. Its what angered everyone and prompted everyone to push them to their break even harder.

Yuta felt bad for Taeyong. He was actually friends with that guy, and he saw good intentions from him. Even though he was just like every other, he was still scared shirtless around the "bad boy." If Taeyong was really bad, he wouldn't have saved Ten that night afterwards... Even if that meant passionately shoving his tongue down Ten's mouth and giving him "CPR," whatever you wanted to call that mess.

But he for certain, did not feel sorry for Hansol. That deserves everything he gets. 

He suddenly could hear his friend's (can he even consider them friends anymore?) voices in his head. If he didn't complete the dare, what kind of man would that make him? He was the Nakamoto Yuta. In one way or another, he was going to get Hansol in bed with him and lose his ity finally. Giving up was definitely not an option now.

As soon as the bell rung dismissing the students, Yuta jumped up from his seat and was ready to run straight at Hansol before he slipped through the crowd before Taeil stood in front of him.

"I'm running for president," Taeil says.

"Okay...?" Yuta mumbles, "If you're asking for my vote, no way."

"I'm not, I was going to ask you to tell your friend Johnny to step out."

Yuta laughed, "Oh, really? Afraid you will lose for once in your life?"

Taeil scoffed, "You and everyone else who's woke knows Johnny is only running so he can be confirmed once again how popular he is! He doesn't give a frick for the school."

Yuta fake pouted, "Too bad~. In the end, he'll win because you're irrelevant! Now get out my way."

Yuta pushed Taeil aside and he called from behind, "You know I'm right! Have fun eating stale lunch food and improperly cleaned bathrooms with Johnny as president!"

Yuta rolled his eyes and looked for Hansol, since the boy had snuck out of his radar with Taeil's ugly face blocking the view. It wasn't long to find him, since everyone stepped like five feet away from the boy so they wouldn't get his unpopular disease. Jocks tossed their empty bottles of Gatorade at the pitiful boy, who had finally found someone just as low as him to walk with; Taeyong.

Yuta walked closer to the two, who were silently walking aside from each other. Taeyong's fangirls had pounced onto Ten and Johnny, proving once again that thirsty hoes didn't have the word 'loyal' in their dictionaries. All of Yuta's hoes were loyal though, because who wouldn't be with his radiating smile?

He waited until the hallways were clear before jogging over to tap Hansol's shoulder. Taeyong turned to look at Yuta before his hand could get in contact with Hansol making Yuta stumble back with the intense glare Taeyong had. Fake or not, Taeyong was still scary looking as hell.

Hansol glanced over at Taeyong and then to Yuta, towering over both boys with his impressive height that rivaled Johnny's own. Yuta gulped, the same nervous feeling raiding his gut and making him stiff and palms sweat. Taeyong spared the two one last glance before dismissing himself and walking away. Hansol turned to look at Taeyong and Yuta almost missed what seemed to be Hansol's hand letting go of Taeyong's. Yuta let out a tiny gasp that made Hansol turn back to him and step back, instinctively expecting a smack on his face.

"I-I'm not going to hit you, chill..." Yuta choked out, clearing his voice afterwards so he doesn't stutter again.

Hansol nods, his eyes peaking to Taeyong's distant back before returning to Yuta. Well, more like the ground Yuta was standing on, but it was definitely better than being flatly ignored like before.

Yuta figured his confidence intimidated the other before. So now he was trying a new approach, in hopes to win a date with Hansol. He stepped closer to the taller boy, who stepped back instantly to keep the same far distance, resulting in Yuta taking another step closer. Hansol repeatedly took a step back when Yuta stepped forward until his back was against the lockers on the wall and his hands behind his back, his hands sweatily rubbing on each other in attempts to calm himself down.

"Hansol~" Yuta hummed and smiled, standing tippy toes and swinging his body back and forth cutely, "Oppa, let's go on a date?"

Yuta noticed the cringe Hansol tried hard to conceal with his facial expressions with Yuta calling him... That. He still didn't drop the cute act though, softly hitting Hansol's chest and pouting.

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