At Seoul Arts High, tensions were strong. Being Korea's top entertainment school, whether it was dancing, singing, producing, rapping, or acting, there was no room for slacking off. After all, bright-eyed youth had a deadline, and in the dog-eat-dog entertainment industry, the older you got the less you were worth.

           This realization strikes me halfway through sophomore year during a required vocal class (Beginning Vocals 2, class code V02), when a tiny freshman three years younger than me calls me out for being, and I quote, "Too old and with too horrible a voice to actually succeed."

           Now, there are a few things wrong with the picture here.

           One: by being three years younger than me, the freshman is effectively only thirteen, meaning that they got into high school an entire two years earlier than I did. Okay, not the worst blow. All the goddamn talent in Seoul is gathered here and there is at least a few dozen early-admitted students in every class. This I could handle.

           Two: the freshman isn't actually wrong. I legitimately can't sing. V02 is a required course for everyone, just like V01 had been. Thankfully the required vocal courses end at sophomore year, and this would be my last encounter with the gruesome sound that I like to call my voice. Alright, no problem. I was on the producing route anyways, so I didn't actually need to sing. In fact, around sixty-five percent of the class wasn't actually on the vocal route, since Seoul Arts High offered four other routes of entertainment: dance, music production, acting, and rapping. Vocal route students were the most abundant, taking up around thirty-five percent of the student population, but a large majority of the class could sympathize with my singing plight. Okie-dokie.

           Now here comes problem number three: after hearing the puny freshman's insult, who else but vocal major Jeon-ing-Jungkook straight up bursts into laughter. And this isn't the quiet laughing people do when they hear a mildly interesting joke, this is full-blown, whole body laughter that brings tears to his eyes and has him doubling over. He can barely choke out the words "Oh my gosh-" wheeze "-Eun Ae-" wheeze "-what a- what a goddamn burn you just got-" before he's cut off by his own laughter and has to lean on the wall to keep from collapsing from his hysterics. This then sets off a wave of quiet giggling throughout the classroom, particularly among the girls, since Jungkook has about half the female population here wrapped around his little finger. Even the teacher himself can’t help but crack a small grin.

           Oh wow, Jungkook! I’m so ing glad that you find this so ing funny! Gosh, what a hilarious joke that was! It’s so ing hilarious I even forgot to laugh, but at least you’re enjoying this aren’t you?

           I imagine myself speaking those words out, walking over to Jungkook, and kicking him so that he may never propagate the world with his offspring, but am reminded not to by my clean transcript and the fact that forty other people are watching this absolutely riveting event unfold.

           Instead, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, hold it, and let it go.

           Breathe in, breathe out.

           Breathe in, breathe out.

           Wipe out images of blood and murder from my mind, and let sunflowers and daisies take their place.

           Good job, Eun Ae. What a responsible person you are. By the time I have calmed down enough to stop imagining my pencil as a stabbing utensil, class has resumed.

           I’d like to make a correction to my previous statement. Seoul Arts High is a competitive high school with lots of stress and pressure, but you know what? No biggie. The real problem is that it’s got students like Mr. over there, still cracking up every ten minutes, who make school life absolutely horrible.

           Goddamn.