Park Jimin impatiently drummed his fingers against his knee, his large eyes straining to see through the blinding rain. It was coming down so heavily that even with the windshield wipers on full blast it was difficult to see beyond the thin patches of light cast by the car’s headlights. He sighed impatiently, squinting through the gloom of the March afternoon.

Behind the wheel, his older brother, Jaesung, chuckled. “Chill out, little brother. You’re going to have a panic attack if you don’t quit freaking out. Jeez. I’ve never seen someone so excited about going to school before.”

“This isn’t just any school, Hyung,” Jimin said seriously, allowing himself to relax against the leather seat. He was never anything but serious; the perfect contrast to his easygoing brother. “This is the school. I’ve been studying for years to get into this school.”

Jaesung rolled his eyes, taking the exit ramp off the highway. “I know, I know. God, you don’t have to remind me! I had to listen to Mom and Dad about how I should be studying like you.” He pulled a face to let his brother know he didn’t really hold it against him. “If you hadn’t studied so hard, maybe you’d actually have a girlfriend.”

Jimin didn’t smile. Girls were the farthest thing from his mind right now. “If I hadn’t studied so hard, I wouldn’t have gotten a full scholarship.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re all proud of you and all that other sentimental bull,” Jaesung said with a laugh, taking a left turn at a busy intersection. They must have been getting close by now. Jimin’s heart was pounding. “I don’t know why you didn’t let Mom and Dad bring you. They would’ve been ecstatic.”

Jimin pulled a disgusted face. “They would’ve cried and caused a huge scene. It would’ve been awful. Thanks again for driving me.”

“No problem, little brother,” the elder grinned, making another turn onto another unfamiliar street. “I still don’t know why you’d choose a school like this, though. The pressure would make me crack.”

Jimin didn’t answer. Seonbi Academy was the most prestigious high school in South Korea. The tuition alone was more than his parents made in a year, and that wasn’t including books or uniforms or food. Even so, he’d had his sights set on it since he was in junior high. Everyone who graduated from Seonbi went on to bigger and better things. Everyone. Jimin had wanted desperately to be a part of that. He’d studied relentlessly, forgoing friends and hobbies in favor of getting into this school. And now, just in time for his senior year, he had managed to snag one of the school’s coveted full scholarships.

Jaesung was slowing down. “Ah, it looks like we’re here,” he announced, bringing his brother out of his thoughts. Jimin sat forward again immediately, pressing his face against the glass for an eager first look at his new school.

Even through the torrential downpour, he could make out the shape of about a dozen or so buildings, the entire campus surrounded by an intricate wrought-iron fence. It was obvious even to the untrained eye that the buildings were ancient architectural masterpieces, all colonnades and cornices and cupolas. There were paved pathways traversing perfectly manicured lawns. Students, some already clad in their fashionable uniforms, were hurrying to and fro through the rain, dragging luggage behind them, saying goodbye to parents, greeting one another at the start of a new school year.

Jaesung stopped the car in front of the boys’ dorm, putting it into park but leaving the engine running. “Do you want me to come in with you?” he offered.

Jimin saw him glance in the rearview mirror; there was already a line of cars behind them waiting to drop their own children off. “No thanks,” he answered, his hands sweaty with both excitement and nerves. “I’ll manage on my own. But I appreciate the offer.”

“No prob, little bro,” Jaesung said with his signature warm smile. “Good luck, and have a good term. Don’t forget to phone Mom as soon as you get settled in. I’m surprised she hasn’t already called a billion times.”

Jimin smiled shortly. “Will do. Thanks again.” He waved slightly to his brother before hopping out of the car and grabbing his two suitcases from the boot of the car. He stood on the sidewalk, shielding his face from the rain, while Jaesung waved and pulled off. Then he grabbed a suitcase in each hand and walked into the boys’ dorm that would be his home for the next year.

The dorm lobby was decorated for the start of term, bulletin boards covered with notices and fliers for various clubs and organizations. There was a wet floor sign right by the door, as students and their parents tracked water in from the storm outside. The lobby was chaotic, as Jimin had known it would be. Arriving students were scattered everywhere, along with a surplus of slightly-damp luggage, asking questions and shouting eagerly to one another. A handful of harried prefects were posted at a crowded table, lists in tow, trying to get the right room key to the right boy.

Jimin patiently waited in line until a prefect was free. “Name? Year?” the prefect sighed, peering through thick glasses at the list before him.

“Park Jimin,” Jimin answered politely. “Third year.”

The prefect scanned the list quickly, his eyes flashing down to the D’s. “Do...Do...Ah, here you are. Room 316.”

Jimin took the key, thanked the prefect, then took his luggage up to the third floor. It was a bit of a trek. The building was old and there were no elevators, so he had to lug his suitcases up the two flights of stairs to reach his floor. Jimin wasn’t what you’d call an athletic person, so he was huffing and puffing by the time he reached room 316. He struggled with the key in the old lock for a moment, but then it clicked and he pushed open the door to view his dorm room for the first time.

Even though it was like any other dorm he’d ever seen, his heart swelled with pride at the thought that this was his room at Seonbi Academy. It was perfectly square-shaped, so tiny that there was barely enough room to maneuver around the two beds, desks, and dressers that had been crammed in. It had wood paneled walls and scuffed wooden floors, with a single window between the two beds that offered a spectacular view of the quad below.

It appeared that, though his new roommate was nowhere to be seen, he had already been there and gotten at least partially settled in. One of the beds had been made up rather sloppily, the navy bedspread simply tossed over the mattress without being smoothed out and tucked in. The desk on that side of the room was already cluttered with a plethora of high-in electronics: a laptop, a flat-screen television, an Xbox.

Though Jimin really would’ve liked to take the time to unpack and neatly put away his things, he had less than half an hour before the opening ceremonies started. He’d planned on giving himself more time, but the rain had resulted in bad traffic and it had taken Jaesung longer to drive there than planned, so now he was running behind schedule. So, instead of unpacking, he picked up his larger suitcase and hefted it up onto the empty bed and ped it. His new uniform was sitting right on top, folded perfectly so there would be no creases just the way his mother had taught him.

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he shook out the uniform. He’d been daydreaming about getting to wear this uniform for years, and it felt surreal to actually be holding it in his hands. He changed into it quickly, eagerly, and examined himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. It looked damn good on him, he admitted with another smile.

Tucking his room key into the inside pocket of his blazer, he headed back down the stairs. The lobby wasn’t nearly as crowded now; even some of the prefects had already left. Most of the students were already heading towards the auditorium for the opening ceremonies, dressed in their uniforms.

Most of the boys already seemed to know one another, laughing and joking around as they met up to head for the auditorium. As Jimin was as of yet unfamiliar with the layout of the school, he approached a duo of boys who looked roughly his age to ask directions.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said politely, bowing. “But I’m new here. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the auditorium?”

The shorter of the two grinned broadly; he had a smile that literally lit up his entire face. “Yeah, we can show you! We’re headed that way right now!”

“Thank you,” Jimin murmured, truly appreciative. “I would get totally lost on my own.”

“Yeah, this place is massive and the layout is stupid,” the second boy spoke up, and Jimin was taken aback by how deep his voice was. It didn’t match his boyish good looks. “They’re supposed to hand out maps to all the new students, but the prefects never remember to do it.”

The first boy continued to beam. “I’m Suga. This is my roommate, Nam Joon.”

“Park Jimin,” Jimin introduced himself, relieved at having met such friendly people right off the bat. He fell into step with the pair as they left the boys’ dorm. The rain hadn’t let up any, so the three of them huddled under Suga’s umbrella as they walked along the sidewalk, surrounded by other uniform-clad students.

“So you’re new?” Suga asked as they walked, close enough that they were all touching shoulders. “What made you transfer to Seonbi?”

Jimin blushed, ducking his head in the vain hope that his new acquaintances wouldn’t see it. “Ah, it’s sort of been my dream for a while. It’s such a good school, you know. Everyone who’s anyone went here.”

“That’s the damn truth,” Nam Joon muttered, but he didn’t sound as excited about it as Jimin was. “They don’t let you forget it, either. The workload here is intense.”

Suga nudged him playfully with his shoulder. “You complain about that all the time, Joonie. Why don’t you just transfer out?”

“Because I like it here too much,” he answered with a smile. He had a wide smile, one that took over his entire face and showed all his perfectly-straight teeth. Jimin was a little jealous of that smile.

“All joking aside, it is a tough school,” Suga continued, looking back to Jimin. “But I’m sure you already know this. We always have a ton of homework, but it’s a lot of fun here as well. There are a lot of events and festivals that we participate in. I love this school.”

Jimin felt like laughing and crying all at the same time. It was such a relief to meet people who liked school as much as he did. He hoped everyone at Bighit Academy was this academically-inclined.

The auditorium was housed in another old stone building, and the three of them had to climb a set of slippery steps to get inside. There was a mass of students milling about, greeting one another before going to find seats in the appropriate sections.

“Thank you for showing me the way,” Jimin said, bowing again once they’d gotten inside and Suga put away his wet umbrella. “I’m just going to run to the restroom really quickly before the ceremony starts.”

“Do you want us to save you a seat?” Suga asked with a friendly smile.

Jimin couldn’t help but smile too. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we always sit at the back so it’s no problem,” Nam Joon said. “These things are super boring anyway, so you won’t miss much even if you get there a little late.”

Jimin thanked them again and hurried down the hall in search of the men’s restroom. Even though he was unfamiliar with the layout of the building, it didn’t take him long to locate it. The hallways were empty by this time, the other students all finding seats in the auditorium. Thinking that he would have the bathroom completely to himself, Jimin pushed open the door.

He froze in that position, his hand on the door and his heart pounding in his chest. The bathroom wasn’t deserted, as he’d thought it would be.

There were two boys already there, and Jimin’s pulse raced at the very sight of them.

One of them was perched up on the counter, his head rolling on his shoulder and his mouth slightly open, revealing the tip of a pink tongue between lusciously full lips. His blazer was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt had been partially ed, revealing a creamy dark chest that was, as far as Jimin could see, perfectly chiseled. The other boy was standing, wedged between his friend’s legs. Though he had his back to the door, Jimin could see that he was planting wet, angry kisses down the first’s neck and across his collarbone.

The boy perched on the counter grinned lazily, his eyes locking on Jimin’s with a hungry sort of expression that sent waves of conflicting emotions through Jimin. Then, his eyes still locked with Jimin’s, he pulled his friend up by the collar and crushed his mouth to his in a sloppy, sensual display.

Jimin felt the blush all the way to his toes; he didn’t have to see his reflection in the mirror to know that he was as red as a tomato. Mumbling a hurried “excuse me,” he turned and fled. He was halfway down the hall before the bathroom door even had a chance to close. He waited until he was around a corner to slow down, putting a hand over his heart as if that would stop it from racing.

Just what the hell was that? Why were there two boys making out in the bathroom instead of attending the opening ceremonies? What sort of people made out in a public place like that?

The thing with Jimin was that he was horribly, helplessly conservative. Jaesung told him that often enough. He’d spent the last several years teasing his kid brother about sensitive topics, usually going into enough detail to turn Jimin’s ears red. These episodes usually ended with Jimin clapping his hands over his ears in embarrassment, running from the room, and Jaesung roaring with laughter. ‘Just get a girlfriend,’ Jaesung would say amicably. ‘She’ll teach you everything you want to know.’ But Jimin had never had a girlfriend; he’d had offers, but he just wasn’t interested.

Jimin had never seen anything as intimate as those two boys making out in the bathroom, running their hands along each other’s skin, tasting and exploring. He was disparaging of their audacity, but, even more than that, he was flustered at his body’s reaction to it. There was no mistaking the slight strain in his trousers, and he was downright embarrassed by it. He was outraged by their lack of common decency, he told himself repeatedly, not by it.