"Miss Ivy," Yoo Misook, the Bell's head maid for just about two decades, poked her head into the Ivy's spacious closet, "Young master Kibum is already outside."

"Ok, Misookie," The girl discarded a shirt with a print made up of hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes, and pulled a grey sweater with the words AS IF. printed boldly on the front over her lacy black bra, "I'm coming right down."

She grabbed her black leather backpack from besides the door and rushed down the right side of the double staircase and through the grand foyer, bidding goodbye to the maids and butlers who worked to keep the mansion clean everyday. She thanked Ahn Ilsung, the head butler, for opening the door for her, and slid into the black Bentley parked outside the gates, smiling at the middle aged chauffeur who opened and closed the door for her.

"Good morning," She glanced at the boy next to her, who was scrolling through something on his phone.

"Hello," He didn't even look at her. 

She pouted, "Why are you so rude so early in the morning?"

"Why are you so energetic so early in the morning?" He shot back at her.

She made a face and crossed her arms, turning to look out the window, "Idiot."

She heard him sigh and could practically see him roll his eyes.

"Good morning, Ivy," Key said, his voice annoyingly chirpy, "How are you today? I hope you slept well last night. Doesn't it  that we're already going back to school?"

She turned to him and smiled brightly, "I agree, Kibum, it's absolutely horrid."

He took one look at her face and scoffed, refocusing on his phone, "So horrid."

"Hey!" She wrinkled her nose, frowning, "Why do I get the feeling you were referring to me when you said," Her tone of voice changed, now mimicking his, and he scoffed, "So horrid." 

He looked at her, eyed her up and down, then smirked. 

"Hey!" She screeched.

"Ivy," Chorong, her best friend, trudged behind her as they made their way through the hall to their class. Now they were second years and, according to Chorong, they were getting old. "I'm not even kidding," She whined, "I found white hair on my head during summer, white hair," She widened her eyes, as if talking about a horror movie.

Her friend tried to contain her laughter, "Is that why you dyed your hair brown again?" 

She nodded, "It was just too prominent with black hair." 

"You're lucky our school permits students to dye their hair," Key chimed in, momentarily interrupting his conversation with the glasses-clad student council secretary, then walking even faster, excused from the homeroom before the opening ceremony, since he would be speaking in it. 

"Yes, Mr. President," Chorong said sweetly, before cutting out her façade and making mean faces at the boy's retreating back. She faced Ivy, "The worst part is that he's the type to actually report me if it was against the rules, no matter how strong our friendship is supposed to be." Ivy laughed, nodding her head at the, albeit unfortunate, truth in her statement. Her friend grumbled, "When's lunch again? I'm hungry."

"Didn't you have breakfast?" Ivy asked her. They turned their heads for a moment to note a slight commotion at the end of the hall. Their curiosity gave in, thoug