Wang Xinran wanted to die.

Well, not literally. But current circumstances might have led up to her having to sell her organs so she could pay for her gargantuan tuition, so yeah, she was likely to die. Reading the bulletin board was a punch in her gut, and she repeatedly perused the announcement until it finally sank in her brain: she didn't win the annual writing scholarship she had been consecutively earning for three years. Someone else won it that school year hence leaving Xinran stricken with so many horrible emotions. Shes was beyond lost. Xinran understood ages ago that sponsorships — no matter how boring the program sounded or how lame the ways of winning a certain sponsorship were — were thick and fresh slabs of juicy red meat dropped in the middle of ravenous piranhas.

What was Xinran supposed to do next? That grant was basically her life support! 75% reduction of her $65,000 college tuition for her final year, gone spiraling down a drain alongside her gleaming hopes to 1. finish education at her dream school, 2. aid her family through her passion, and 3. prove to others than creative writing ain't no tomfoolery! Where did she go wrong with her fourth trial? Was it just a typo? An ill-hearted prank? Mismatched placements? Where would she get her next year's tuition fee? Would she ever finish her tertiary education? Would getting more freelancing jobs work? What about her parents, what would they say? Questions raced through her head. But there was this one quaking question at the top of her b anger:

❝Who the is Jeon Wonwoo?❞

Kim Mingyu, her old crush turned closest friend, nudged her lower rib and mentioned, ❝That's Jeon Wonwoo.❞

Xinran turned to look at the pointed direction and witnessed a man wearing a gray sweatshirt that exposed his collarbones with some lower part of the clothing tucked into the waistband of his dark jeans. The guy stared right back at her as if he already knew the announcement and was waiting for a more evident reaction from the girl. You, Xinran's eyes became glazed with fury as they scanned up and down the male, I've worked in a boxing gym before and I want to test everything I had learned there on you!

❝Huh,❞ Mingyu tilted his head and scrutinized Wonwoo's physical attribute, ❝I mean he looks the part; leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder with his silver-rimmed glasses and chunky boots. But just how amazing was his submission that it ruined yours?❞

Mingyu continuously mumbled about Jeon Wonwoo but other thoughts flushed his voice out of Xinran's ears. Pessimistic thoughts. Almost deranged ones pumping adrenalin into her lethargic demeanor. He knows who am I, Xinran thickly gulped. Of course, there had to be a staredown of the century right before the school year ends. Somehow, whatever Mingyu mentioned in his long yapping caught the lady's attention.

❝Say that one more time?❞

The younger one groaned. ❝What part? I've been ceaselessly talking here so I don't know what part you want me to repeat.❞

❝The last sentence you said.❞

❝Ah,❞ Mingyu took a much needed deep breath before proceeding, releasing it to a sigh, ❝Jeon Wonwoo's best friend is Choi Seungcheol, your decade-old unrequited love.❞