When I entered highschool with a promising scholastic record to back me up, I knew nothing of the twisted life I was soon to get myself into. Too soon in fact that on the very first day, I'd already been voted Class President and appointed Prefect. To me the positions seemed nothing more than accessories; accessories that earned you prime seats on special events, granted you certain rights and incentives, and delegated you with the task of standing up as a model student and reprimanding rule violators whenever necessary.

I had the habit of addressing students' concerns to my fellow Prefects during the first few months; I didn't exactly fancy giving my classmates detention, so you can only imagine the futility I used to associate with my being a Prefect.

It was only on the third quarter of my first year when I first practiced Prefect duties. And I did it solely to rescue my classmate, who eventually became one of my closest peers.

I was strolling down the freshmen corridors at around nine in the evening to check whether all the students had already gone home. Of course I assumed the area was deserted, it was approaching nine after all. But clanking echoes and subdued laughter suddenly filled the halls.

Squinting my eyes over the horizon, I hollered, "Is anybody out there?"

There was no response except a sudden stop in the clanking and laughing noises to be replaced with hurried steps. "You could be having detention – hey!" I sprinted towards the source expecting an already empty classroom when I saw someone kneeling over a dozen or so bottles.

"Is that alcohol?"

"Yes," he replied. "Please do expel me, I seriously want out of this school. Anything to get away from my blasted brother."

I switched on my flashlight and recognized instantly Jongdae's bruised eye and cut lip.

"Holy – what happened, man?"

I spent the next ten minutes replacing bottles back into their case and was soon joined by a worried Yixing who claimed he'd been searching for Jongdae. Since Jongdae didn't appear to want to narrate anything, Yixing filled me in instead.

"His brother's forcing him to bring all these cigarette packs and alcoholic beverages every Friday after dismissal. He and his friends are obviously too chicken to risk being caught in broad daylight so they bully Jongdae here to do the dirty work."

"Why should they have to drink and smoke within the premises?" Not that I was agreeing but if they're that desperate for vices, wasn't it safer to practice them outside school? And I remembered upperclass men buzzing about that one bar by the end of the block they liked to frequent. Some genius bloke apparently fancied risking such business around a school's vicinity. And from what I had heard, he made sure to identify minors by letting students present identification, logging them in and issuing them receipts - as if students weren't clever enough to fake ID's.

"That's the whole point," Jongdae hissed as he swiped the last pack from under a chair and shoved it inside a trash bag. "Flirting with disaster. Where's the fun in breaking school rules if you're not gonna do them right under their noses?" It took me a moment to realize he was quoting his brother.

"C'mon, man," Yixing said as he helped Jongdae to his feet. The latter apparently had more injuries bey