Jimin and Minjoon had been keeping up their communication with each other throughout the hot, humid months of summer. They often emailed each other with news and recently, both boys had gotten cell phones, and they began texting each other like crazy. Every day, text messages with cute smiley face emojis and little hearts were sent back and forth.

                They never saw each other in person anymore. Jimin missed the constant contact and the feeling of Minjoon’s actual warmth, and he often expressed this in his messages. Minjoon assured him that one day, they will be back together again.

                September rolled around the corner, with the bright fiery leaves that fell off the trees around his house and piled on the front yard. It was the first day of school, and Jimin stepped out of the house, bus pass in hand, ready to leave for school. He looked across the street at the empty house. In the back of his mind, he could remember the sound of laughter and the good old days. Now, it was an empty shell, abandoned, ready to be taken over by new people.

                Minjoon had told him that the new owners of the house would be moving in at around October, since they wanted to do some renovations. Jimin had spent days watching construction workers walk in and out of the house, resentment filling him up as he thought about how different the house must look like inside. He hated the sound of heavy footsteps.

                Jimin approached his new high school, the large, towering building imposing a sense of foreboding. Students swarmed in through the front doors, and Jimin followed them, slightly miffed when boys who were only taller than him by a bit started shoving him.

                It didn’t take long for Jimin to find his homeroom after conquering the challenge of pushing past the throng of students who were all trying to look up their homeroom in the foyer. When he walked into the classroom, a sudden feeling of dread filled his heart, and his breathing quickened, coming out in little puffs. His heart pounded in his chest, and as he sat down in a lone desk in the front of the classroom, he quickly took his phone out, clutching it desperately.

                A harsh laugh pierced the classroom, and Jimin whipped around in his seat to see the boy who had constantly bullied him in elementary. Of course he had to be in the same class as him, he thought scornfully. He sat back in his original position, waiting for the teacher to just hurry up and get his first day of school spiel over with. His fingers trembled around his phone.

                “Hello, class!” the teacher said. He was a short man with round Harry Potter styled glasses and a big round nose.

                “First, we’re going to be taking attendance, so when I call your name, say ‘here’!” he said and proceeded to the first name on the list. When he called Jimin’s name, he hastily put up his hand and said ‘here’. Some snickers came from the back of the room. The teacher, either ignoring this or having not heard it, continued.

                “Alright, now we are going to distribute your lockers, give you your locks, agenda books, and timetables, as well as some start of year information on fees,” the teacher said, smiling. Jimin hated that smile. The man’s teeth were too crooked. He looked down at his hands.

                A flurry of items appeared on the desk. Jimin quickly flipped through them and stashed them inside of his backpack. He returned to his quiet, pensive state. He had never felt so overwhelmed in his life, since there were so many people he didn’t know. Apart from the very small group of bullies from his elementary school, everyone else was new.

                A girl popped her head through the doorway and said in a cheerful, bubbly voice, “Mr. Wang, do you have any extra notice forms? There was a mix up and there aren’t enough for our class.” She looked at Jimin and smiled. Her black hair was tied back in a high ponytail, her bangs fell in front of her eyes, and her small petite figure was engulfed in a large gray hoodie.

                “Here, Soomin, I have a couple of extras here,” Mr. Wang said, manoeuvering his way across the classroom to give Soomin the extra copies. She smiled and left.

                 “I need to leave the classroom to fetch the sheet where all the lockers should be. I’ll get one of the senior students to look after you kids. Just wait,” Mr. Wang said, backpedalling out of the classroom. Jimin laughed quietly to himself. This teacher was one of the most scatterbrained teachers he had ever met in all his life.

                The little peace in the classroom dissolved into utter chaos as the students started chatting to their friends. Jimin decided to just mind his own business when the bully walked over and bumped into him.

                “Oops, sorry. Is little Jimin going to cry for his boyfriend?” the bully said, lips curling up into a teasing sneer.

                “No, I’m not,” Jimin mumbled under his breath.

                “Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” the bully responded, pulling Jimin up by his collar and taking his phone out of his hand. Jimin struggled, reaching out for his phone. The screen lit up, showing Minjoon’s name and number.

                “Please don’t, give it back please,” Jimin pleaded, his hand wrapping around the bully’s gigantic forearm to try and free himself. The bully just laughed.

                He felt tears prick his eyes, and he let his body fall limp. There was no use anyway. The classroom started getting louder, the jeers and loud boos echoing in his ears. He didn’t know that the first day of high school would be like this.

                “Jeez you stupid s. Your teacher leaves you alone for five minutes and you can’t keep your asses in your seats,” a deep, drawling voice said from the doorway.

                Jimin looked up to see a pale boy standing in the doorway, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his black hair lying down across his forehead. His lips were in a frown, and his dark brown eyes squinted. The boy reached forward and plucked Jimin’s phone out of the bully’s grasp.

                “Get back to your seat. Next time I see you out of your seat, I’ll drag you to the principal’s office,” the boy practically growled. The bully rushed back to his seat.

                “Here’s your phone, kid. Keep an eye out for it,” the boy said, handing the phone to Jimin. Jimin took it, muttering a quiet thank you.

                “The name’s Yoongi if you have any questions,” Yoongi said, leaning against the wall at the front of the classroom. He pulled out his phone and began furiously texting, his long fingers flying across the screen.

                Jimin tucked his phone back into his bag, and with a soft exasperated sigh, leaned back in his chair and waited for the teacher to return.