Yoona’s POV

“The new boy here is so cute!” one girl exclaimed as I walked past. Even though I didn’t stick around long enough to hear what the other girl would say but I was positive that she must’ve said something along the lines of “I know, right?” As I made my way down the hallway, I heard more comments like, “He’s so handsome!” and “I think I’m already in love!” I shivered inside. What was with these people?

Ever since the new boy had arrived, (was it Taecyeon?) all that I heard during the two hours of lecture was people, mainly girls, gushing over how handsome and cute he was. During class, girls had started to glare and passed mean notes around and whispered about me behind my back. I had always been loved by the majority of people so I didn’t understand why people suddenly hated me so much. But the reason was logical; they liked Taecyeon, they wanted Taecyeon, and so far, they weren’t getting any of it with me around.

There seemed to be nothing different to talk about for the morning because it was all about him. It irritated me to no end. I mean sure, if he’s hot and cute; then girls can gush about him. I did have to give him the credit for having good features. But non-stop gushing about him was annoying me. Couldn’t people find better things to talk about?  I thought that Yuri, my roommate, would’ve understood that I didn’t want her to talk about him. But I was wrong. As soon as she saw him, she couldn’t stop talking about him either.

I heard her as she was talking about him, “… I mean I think he has abs and a six-pack. He’s so muscly!” I stopped abruptly. My friend realised that I wasn’t next to her and she wandered back to look at me. “What’s wrong Yoona?” Yuri asked me inquisitively.

I looked up at her with earnest eyes before opening my mouth, “Could you please stop talking about him? It’s getting annoying.”

She gave me an absurd look, “But he’s hot.” She protested.

I raised an eyebrow at her, “Even hotter than the guy in your dreams?” At this, she blushed. Yuri had told me that a few months ago, she had a crush on a guy. I asked who it was but she refused to give out any details. She didn’t seem to do anything for a few weeks and I asked her what was stopping her from confessing. She said that they weren’t meant to be and he was not hers and it was better if she admired him from afar and all that crap. But so far, Yuri had liked him so much; he started to appear in her dreams. She always talked in her sleep and I always heard her mumbling. Whenever I asked her who she saw, she simply blushed and refused to answer. She didn’t need to; I already knew who she dreaming about.

Yuri shook her head meekly, “Well no, he isn’t hotter than the guy in my dreams, but Taecyeon’s still cute and handsome.” I gave her you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me look. Noticing the look on my face, she searched around and pointed to someone, who was just down the other end of the hallway, “Look!” I realised that she was pointing to the man himself. “Look at him and tell me that he isn’t irresistible and devastatingly handsome.”

I glanced at him before glancing back at Yuri. “Ok Taecyeon isn’t irresistible nor is he devastatingly handsome,” I said in an indifferent tone. Yuri gave me an if-you-say-so look before she continued to make her way down the hallway. I followed her.

I stopped for a moment; something felt weird. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. It was only now that I noticed that the hallway was deadly silent. I looked up at the people staring at me. Some had disbelieving looks on their faces. Some were giving me the death stare. I gulped. Did I say that too loud? Did everyone hear me that clearly?

I heard footsteps and whisperings echoing around the hallway as I bent my head down. It didn’t take long until I felt a shadow over me. Everyone seemed to quiet down and look at what was happening with keen interest. I looked up to see who was towering above me; only to come face to face with the man himself; Ok Taecyeon.

~

Taecyeon’s POV

“Ok Taecyeon isn’t irresistible nor is he devastatingly handsome,” I heard it loud and clear through my ears. I turned around; curious to see who it was. As far as I was aware, every girl here seemed to find me attractive. It made no sense that a girl didn’t. And I could tell that the voice was a female voice.

Everyone’s eyes were pinpointed to one person. Assuming that whoever they were staring at was the person that was not attracted to me, I made my way over to her. As I came nearer, the girl looked increasingly familiar. It wasn’t until that I stood right in front of her that my brain made the connections; she was the girl that sat next to me earlier today during one of the lectures.

I crossed my arms in front of her as she looked up at me. There was a look of surprise and a dash of fear but nothing more. I smirked, “So, I’m not irresistible nor am I devastatingly handsome?” I questioned her.

She rolled her eyes at me as though it was to be expected that I would say something like this. “You know what? I’ll give you the credit for being good-looking. But you’re not that good-looking to the point where you need to be so self-conceited nor does everyone have to talk about you for hours,” she said spitefully.

I let out a triumphant smirk, “So I am handsome after all.” I looked to see her expression. She was giving me a death glare but I had been given so many of those from my father, that they now unfazed me. “And, has everyone really been talking about me for hours?” I inquired innocently.

She gave me a look of disbelief. “You haven’t heard?” her voice deadpanned. Of course, I had heard. Girls had been gushing about me for hours and I basked in my new-found attention. But annoying this girl right now was proving to be too much fun. I feigned ignorance and shook my head. She gave me an incredulous look.

“Girls have going on and on about you for hours,” she suddenly stopped and tipped her head slightly to look at me properly. She rearranged her head back to its normal position before nervously fiddling with her hands, “I mean, who would even like you anyway? You have this bad boy aura surrounding you and you’ve been expelled from colleges before. I mean bad boys are major turn-offs to any girl.” As soon as she finished, everyone in the hallway gasped.

Girls don’t like bad boys? You have got to be kidding me. I grew up with an older sister and I knew that all girls, even if they didn’t want to admit it, secretly deep down wanted a bad boy all to themselves. I laughed and I knew it was ticking her off. “I’m not a bad boy,” I said in a playful tone. But deep down, we both knew that wasn’t the truth.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. She pointed at me, “Look at you. It’s so obvious that you’re a bad boy. You’ve probably been arrested by the police or something like that. You just have this,” she did some desperate hand gestures like doing that was going to help her, “way that you carry yourself that screams: I’M BAD!”

Okay, she overstepped the boundary. Whatever the name of this girl was, she was starting to really get on my nerve. “What about you?” I pointed to her as she gave me a confused look. She pointed to herself with a questioning gaze in her eyes, trying to confirm that the person I was talking about was her. I ignored her gesture as I continued, “You’re no different.”

“Excuse me,” she protested. “I’m not in any way similar to you. I’m completely different. Besides, I’m not a bad girl.” She stuck out her chin as crossed her arms. It was like she was trying to prove a point and was daring me to challenge her or to try to beat her with something better.

“No you’re not a bad girl,” I corrected myself. She gave me an I-told-you-so look. “But…” her ears perked up on this, “…you’re no different because you’re the goody good girl.” She gives me a concerned look but I ignored her. “It isn’t hard to tell that you’re the Miss Goody-two-shoes of this college. I bet that you’re sick of being so good that all you wanna do right now is break free, don’t give a damn about reputation and do whatever the hell you want to do – even if it means being bad.”

Her face paled a shade. That was purely just my assumption. I hadn’t expected for the assumption to be correct. I knew that I had pulled a string and struck a sensitive nerve because her tone turned deadly. It was like acid. “I hate you.”

She turned around and walked off. Her friend beside her was torn between the two of us as she looked from one to the other, not knowing where she should go. Quickly making up her mind, she ran towards her. I narrowed my eyes into slits as I looked at the two retreating backs. “You know what?” I shouted loud and clear for everyone to hear. Both of them stopped in their tracks. I shouted my next bit to make sure that she heard what I was going to say next, “I hate you too!”