Is today the day?

And if not today, when?

I am asking myself as I stand on narrow ledge six stories above the ground. I'm so high up, i'm practically part of the sky. I look down at the pavement below, and the world tilts. I close my eyes, enjoying the way everything spins. Maybe this time I'll do it, let the air carry me away. 

"Are you suicidal?" a deep male voice ask coldly, bringing me back to reality.

I open my eyes, and the ground still there, hard and permanent. Nobody should be here this late. Very slowly. I turns my head toward the disturber, he stands a few feet away behind me. He's tall, lean, and wearing all black: black long sleeve shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and black knit cap that covers his hair completely. His deep-set brown eyes staring up at me as if I was a puzzle.

And I know him. Kim Taehyung, the school thug.

Intimidating gaze, handsome yet arrogant face, and his towering figure in front of me makes me froze. The way he looks at me, more like he's annoyed than concerned.  

"I'm not sure the impact would kill you though, maybe jumping in the han river is better idea,"  he says as he tosses his backpack to the long bench, then laid his whole body there, head on the backpack. He close his eyes and soon after his breathing steadies, like that he's fallen asleep. 

My mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Sweat beads along my face despite the chilly winds blowing around me.

I watch him and wonder if I still want to kill myself here, I gaze past all of this at the ground itself, which is now slick and damp, and imagine myself lying there. I could just step off. It would be over in seconds. No more hurt. No more anything. But I can feel the moment passing, maybe already passed, now it seems like a stupid idea.

I step away from the ledge, leaving this sleeping jerk. Of all people could have witnessing, Kim Taehyung is the worst possible choice because he's an Apgujeong legend. I don't know him that well, but I know of him. Everyone knows of him. He and his so-called gang Bangtan always gets into fight and never gets kicked out of the school and does what they want. It must really nice being born from rich family.

***

Inside the classroom, I take my usual seat beside the leaded-glass windows, feeling infamous and invincible and twitchy and strangrly exhilarated, as if I just escaped, well, death. I look around, but no one is paying attention to me. A shallow of relief washes over me. So he did not tell anyone about last night.

Mr. Song arrives as he always does, just as the bell is ringing. He's loud for a teacher, friendly and approachable, "Good morning." Mr. Song smacks down his book on the podium and looks around. "One empty desk. Who's missing?"

The door creaks open with his answer.

"Kim Taehyung. Of course the empty desk is yours." 

Taehyung looks tired, but. . .even tired looks good in him. Backpack over one shoulder, books and notebooks and deni