“Can you boys stop that?” Mrs. Hwang, my Econ teacher, pleads in a soft voice.

Kang Seungyoon and Nam Taehyun merely throw her a contemptful glare as they continue crumbling their worksheets into paper balls and flinging them across the room. I exasperatedly roll my eyes. We are college sophomores. Do they have to be so ing immature? I’m sick and tired of dealing with their stupid antics every single day. Some of us actually care about our education.

Not all of us have rich daddies who could pull strings to get us into Seoul National University.

“Boys, please,” Mrs. Hwang sighs. “Pick up your trash.”

“That’s what the janitors are for,” Taehyun retaliates in a snarky voice. My insides burn with resentment and I have to clench my fists to stop myself from retaliating. I have to fight this every single day: the urge to whirl around and tell off these dips in front of everyone.

But I know that won’t end well.

So I just keep quiet.

The bell rings, and everyone immediately hurries out the door- including Seungyoon and Taehyun, despite Mrs. Hwang’s protests. “Boys!” she desperately calls after them. “Boys, please pick up the paper!”

But of course they don’t. A deep sigh escapes Mrs. Hwang’s lips, and she walks over to their desks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Hwang,” I say, hurriedly making my way over to Seungyoon and Taehyun’s tables. “I got it.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Hyolin,” Mrs. Hwang says gratefully. She gives me a watery smile- oh, no, she’s tearing up. “I just can’t get anyone to listen to me.”

“You need to be more assertive,” I say, picking up the boys’ trash.

“I know, but I don’t want to be mean, and I’m so scared of them.”  

“You’re not supposed to admit that, Mrs. Hwang.”

Suddenly, Mr. Park, a Calculus teacher, sticks his head into the classroom. “Aecha, we have a faculty meeting we need to be at in two minutes.”

“Oh, no!” Mrs. Hwang gasps. “I completely forgot! Hyolin, I’m so sorry, but could you-,”

“I’ll take care of this,” I say. “Bye, Mrs. Hwang.”

“You’re the best, sweetie!” She rushes out the door, leaving me alone in the room.  

I exhale, continuing to gather up all the scraps of paper. What the hell was the point of making such a mess? Jesus, it’s like they try to be annoying on purpose-

Something catches the corner of my eye. A piece of paper is sitting under a chair a few rows back. It is folded up, slightly torn, but I can see ink letters written on its side.

Targ

I scramble over to the paper and curiously unfurl it.

Targets: KNJ & PJ. Tiesto. 10 PM. Clean death.

My blood runs cold.

What is this? Goosebumps runs along the length of my arms. Who wrote this? KNJ and PJ must be initials- who are they? What is Tiesto?

This looks like-

This looks like a plan to kill someone.

I crumple the paper in a fist. My hands are shaking. . . No way. This can’t be legit-

Suddenly, someone whispers, “Boo,” right next to my ear.

I shriek, slamming against the leg of a desk and toppling facedown to the floor. I look up, fear in my eyes-

Kim Joonmyeon is standing over me, laughing his off.

“Holy , Hyo!” he cackles, clutching his stomach. “I was not expecting this good of a reaction. I got you!”

“What the hell, Joonmyeon?” I shout indignantly. “You’re such an !”

“I couldn’t resist doing that. Sorry.” His eyebrows furrow in concern as he scans my face. “Wait. Are you okay?”

I mask how shaken I am to the best of my abilities. “Jesus, yeah. You just scared the out of me. In what universe is that okay?”

“In the universe where I’m your best friend.”

“You are not my best friend,” I snap. “We’re just affiliates. You’re class president, and I’m vice president. We have a purely professional relationship.”

“Mhm. So I guess that’s why you spent two weeks making me a scrapbook for my birthday filled with pictures of us that took you two weeks to make? Or why you vent to me about all your problems? Or why I’m saved as ‘My BFF Joonmyeonnie’ in your phone?”

“You’re the one who put that name!” I protest loudly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I grin. Although I’ll never admit it to him, Joonmyeon is the best friend I’ve ever had in this place. Despite the fact that we are polar opposites- I’m a quiet loner with about two redeemable qualities, and he’s a wealthy heir to a billion-dollar construction company- we became fast friends last year when we were both appointed to the student council. No matter what we’ve been through, whether it be a particularly vindictive girlfriend or an awful test score, the two of us have always had each other’s backs.

He’s happy. Kind. Always cheerful.

Just being around him makes me feel better. About everything.

    Which is why I keep my mouth shut about the note I found. Even if it’s a joke- it’s a little too close to something that he should never have to learn about.

    An involuntary shudder runs through my body.

    “So, got any plans for tonight?” Joonmyeon asks me as we make our way down the hallway. Nearly everyone we pass smiles at him, or gives him a “Hey, Joonmyeon!”

    “Unlike you, Mr. Popular, my social calendar isn’t booked,” I retort, snorting as Han Sooyoung blows him a kiss from across the hallway.

    “But it’s Halloween!”

    “What, are you going trick-or-treating or something?”

    “Yeah, I’m going trick-or-treating.” His lips curl up into a smirk. “If trick-or-treating refers to getting faced and hooking up with as many girls as I can.”

    “Ew! What the ?”

    “Maybe you should come, too,” Joonmyeon grins. “Tiesto’s holding a costume party tonight. Everyone’s going.”

    I stop dead in my tracks. “Tiesto?”

    He gives me a puzzled look. “Yeah, Tiesto. The new club that opened downtown. It’s incredible. Their bartender is a god.”

    So Tiesto is a club. And there’s a party going on there tonight.

    Tiesto. 10 PM.

    KNJ and PJ- whoever they are- must be going there today, where- according to the note- they’ll be killed.

    Of course, this is all speculation. I don’t know where the hell my mind is going. This is probably a product of my irrational paranoia. What’s the probability that something like that could be happening here?

    Right?

    “Yo.” Joonmyeon snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Stop zoning out.”

    I blink. “Sorry. Anyway, what the . Why the hell would I go to some stupid club?

    “It was worth a shot.”

    Suddenly, a loud voice calls, “Joonmyeon!”

    The two of us turn around. Park Chanyeol is prancing towards us, trailed by the rest of Joonmyeon’s friends.

    “Hey, man,” Joonmyeon says, thumping his friend on the back.

    “Happy Halloween, motherer.” Chanyeol turns towards me. “Hey, Hyolin.”

    “Hi, Chanyeol,” I say, nodding at him.

    “Do you mind if I steal Joonmyeon away? We need to pick out his costume for tonight.”

    “Go ahead.” I give Joonmyeon a knowing smile. “Don’t get too ed up.”

    The boy’s hoots echo through the hall as I stride away, finally able to display the full extent of my worry. My fingers dart into my pocket and fish out the crumpled up piece of paper. I swear the words written on it have been permanently etched into my brain. Should I do something about this? Or should I just not get involved? Should I even be worrying about this in the first place?

    Think this through, Hyo. Think this through.

    Okay. How about this.

    I’ll go to Tiesto tonight. Just in case. If I see anything suspicious, I’ll at least be there. If nothing happens...

    Well, at least I can brag to Joonmyeon that I finally went clubbing.

    My goal tonight is to blend in.

    That is why I show up to Tiesto at 9:45 PM wearing a tight, low-cut black dress that barely covers my , a pair of black kitty cat ears, chunky silver bracelets, and a black mask. The bouncer takes one look at me and drags me up to the front of the enormous line.

    “You can go in,” he says.

    “Thanks,” I say, giving him a hasty bow, and enter the club.

    The entire place is thumping with techno music- it is so loud, I can practically feel myself vibrating with the beat. Orange-and-black strobe lights pulse around the room and everyone around me is laughing, cheering, swaying their bodies in tune to the song, holding glasses of alcohol in the air. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about my costume being too revealing. I spot a girl wearing a lacy lingerie set grinding against a guy wearing nothing but body paint.

Jesus Christ. How the hell do people find this fun?

    Someone’s hip checks against mine. I whip my head around. Jeon Jungkook, popular jock extraordinaire, is smiling down at me. He is dressed like a pirate, with double knit pants and a hook on one hand.

    “What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone in a place like this?” he says in a lilting voice. My eyebrows involuntarily pop up. He obviously doesn’t recognize me.

    Good. My disguise worked. And besides, who would expect Park Hyolin to be wearing something like this?

    “Just enjoying the party, I guess,” I respond.

    “Well, why don’t you join me and my friends?” He gestures over to a booth near the back of the room, where Park Jimin, Min Yoongi, and Kim Namjoon are-

    Wait. Wait a minute.

    KNJ. Kim Namjoon.

    PJ. Park Jimin.

    Oh, me in the .