Myungsoo's POV

Two monumental bronze lions were staring at me blankly from the tall spiky gate. The sunlit park behind me was full of voices and laughs, but this part of the garden was surprisingly silent. “Building 7” – I read the gold sign on the wall once again and took a deep breath before grabbing my suitcase. Well, seems like I have just found my new home for the next few years. I slightly pushed the wicket and walked up the curving drive leading to a small square, paved with slabs stone. I was holding a number “2” in my free hand – as a third year explained to us, it was some stupid strategy of the academy – giving every freshman a number instead of a name tag on their first day. I had clearly no idea what we were supposed to do with these numbers, but, come on, even if you are the head of the best academy in Korea, you can have oddities.

The dusty square in front of our campus was almost empty; only one person was staying near the old wooden bench, impatiently looking around. It was a dark-haired boy probably the same age with me. He was dressed in coral-red jeans, an odd looking white shirt with a plaid bow tie, and those huge oh-so-trendy glasses didn’t suit him at all. When the guy noticed me, his face suddenly lit up and he began smiling like a 7 year old on his birthday morning.

“I started to think that I will be the only one living here, and that, by the way, would be horrifying.” he spluttered and intensively shook my hand. “Oh, oh, I forgot that in Korea people bow” laughed the odd-bird and immediately made a more dramatic than polite 90 degree bow. “Nice to meet you, erm, number 2! I’m Nam Woohyun, but you can call me Namu.”

Oh, God, that enthusiasm…

“Kim Myungsoo” I shortly introduced myself and took my place near Woohyun.

The next few minutes passed in awkward silence: I was doing my best in the art of making the do-not-talk-to-me-face, while poor number 1 was studying the rocks under his shoes trying hard not to start a conversation again.

Suddenly I heard the sound of heavy footfalls and soon another person appeared from the turn. In contrast to my first campus neighbor, this guy looked anything but friendly: small eyes on his tensed face were scanning us like two metal detectors, hands in pockets, a huge military printed bag hanging on his shoulder. Everything in his appearance seemed strict – hair lank, gray jacket perfectly ironed. When he came closer he didn’t bow, but slightly nodded.

“Kim Sunggyu. Third year. Arts club president.” the boy noticed my surprised expression and added in a bit milder, friendlier voice “Yeah, for some reason this year they came up with this bright idea of mixing the students up. My ex roommate left the academy, so they sent me here” he grimaced.

It was obvious that the arts club president wasn’t fond of this whole living with the freshmen thing; nevertheless he was trying to keep his feelings in. Sunggyu tidied his auburn hair and continued with a weary sight:

“I heard there will be one more student from my batch, and one second ye…” he wasn’t able to finish the sentence, being interrupted by a happy full-throated “WHAAA! LOOK!”, cried out loud enough to rouse the death. The three of us exchanged amused glances and turned around to face the bawler. When I saw the source of the sound I involuntarily spluttered with laugher. The newcomer reminded me of that hate worthy plastic dinosaur toy my brother used to put near my bed in hope that after all I will end up stepping on it. I could almost literally feel the joy radiated by this dino-like blue-haired creature: he was grinning from ear to ear while tipping down the path that led to the square.

“Hey! Do…Dongwoo, wait, aish!” gasped out a male voice and soon another two strangers appeared in front of us from around the corner.

The first one, the voice’s owner, turned out to be a handsome athletic young man wearing a violescent tank top that showed off his well-muscled tanned arms. No wonder that he was breathing heavily – this Asian-born Hercules was carrying three enormous, obviously heavy sport bags (each of them violet by the way) at the same time. When he finally reached the end of the path and realized that his carefree friend wasn’t listening to his cries, the boy rolled his eyes up in disbelief and dropped his luggage right into the dust.

“Jang Dongwoo! Third year!” almost yelled the dinosaur boy, then turned to his barely alive companion “And this is Howon, he is a sophomore.”

While Woohyun was busy getting enthusiastic over our new neighbor, Sunggyu helped Howon to carry his things. In the meantime I scanned the last person, who entered the square. “Lee Sungyeol” – read I the golden nametag on his expensive suitcase made of dark red leather. Unlike the other two from the company, he didn’t seem sociable at all, but that wasn’t the main reason he stood out so much. He was taller than all of us and his long slim legs could be the object of envy for most of the girls I knew. His style – chick and full of quiet elegance was almost screaming to the world: “I am wealthy as Hell, and you are probably not of my number.”

Even before arriving to this sanctuary of science and glitz I divided the students into three groups. First – the golden boys and girls raised on velvet by obedient maids and surrounded by yes-men. I bet that about 90 percent of those, who were accepted to this academy, are just like that – mostly spoiled, cranky and hopelessly arrogant. I’m not saying that there are no exceptions at all, but it’s better to be prepared for the worst, than get disappointed soon.

The second group consists mostly of know-it-all nerds and underage geniuses. Unlike the moneybags, these guys were working their smart asses off to get in this academy. See, only 5% of the places here are sponsored by the government, so every year the competition is more than fierce. Anyhow, I don’t think that any of those here present are the part of the wiseguy team, and that means that probably I am the only person who knows the meaning of “lack of money”. Yes, I represent the last and the smallest party – the lucky ones. I wasn’t born as a child of big league politicians or idols, neither was I a math-genius, it was my father’s merit that I was accepted. It happened so, that about 20 years ago he saved his brother-soldier while doing his military service (How dramatic, right?). And that noble night decided to return the favor by paying for my education. Do I need to describe my parents’ excitement about that idea? So here I was standing in front of a dorm that looked more like a 4 stars hotel waiting for my course-mates.

“Yah, Lee Sungjong! Do you really think that being late on your first day and keeping your

hyuns wait is a good start?” Sunggyu’s annoyed hoot of rage interrupted my thoughts all of a sudden. I blinked in confusion hearing this strict-looking guy using that informal language, and then turned to face the person he was talking to.

“Don’t be mad, hyun! The keyholder is still in the main building busy scolding some seniors” responded a mellow voice to Sunggyu’s angry speech. The words belong to a skinny boy holding a number 7, whose figure caught my eye immediately. He was…well, he was actually pretty. Not handsome like the manly athletic Howon, not good-looking like the stylish manga-flowerboy like Sungyeol or the charismatic Sunggyu. He was pretty in a soft, almost feminine way; with his lank shiny chocolate-brown hair, smooth milky skin and almond shaped eyes he looked just like an expensive porcelain doll that came to live. Except that I have always found those dolls more than scary, while this boy’s face with its delicate features literally mesmerized me.

I tossed my head trying to take my eyes of the newcomer; the way I was staring was more than impolite and probably creepy. To my surprise, Sunggyu dropped his own backpack and hurried toward the younger boy to help him with his luggage.

“Gyu, I can hold my suitcase, you know” the doll like freshman tried to object, but the third year simply ignored him. The boy sighed heavily and turned to us. “My name is Lee Sungjong by the way, I’m really glad to meet all of you! And don’t be mad at me because of my overprotective angry cousin!” he smiled and bowed to each person, standing there.

“Kim Myungsoo” I heard my own voice breaking the silence (Since when am I so sociable I would like to know.), but you can call me L (Oh God, why are you telling him that odd nickname of yours – the voice of common sense was screaming loud somewhere in my head.)

“L? Really?” Sunggyu threw an angry glance at me “Are you some crazy Death note fan or what?”asked he suspiciously.

“Or…or L just stands for love!“cried out Woohyun joyfully, than formed a small heart with his hands and threw it in my direction with the cheesiest of the expressions I have ever seen on someone’s face. Ugh…

Sunngyu looked at him in irritated disbelief and in a matter of seconds those two were already fighting.

“L sounds good“ I heard Sungjong’s shy voice “L like lemon candy.”

I looked confusedly at the boy trying to figure out if he was making fun of me, but when I met his dark-brown eyes I relaxed immediately – he was smiling in the most innocent way.  

When the keyholder arrived, the atmosphere on the square was getting pretty tense because of Sunggyu and Woohyun. We lost count of the times they nearly killed each other – Sunngyu with his bare hands and Woohyun with his cheesy aegyo. So when we saw a gloomy woman walking towards our company we all sighed in relief.

“I swear, a few more minutes and I would use this bottle of water as a murder weapon”, gasped Sungyeol stretching himself.

It was surprising how misleading my first impression of this tall chick looking guy was. In the end he turned out to be the most ridiculous yet funny creature I ever met. The absurd stories he told us and his stupid owl-faces definitely made our waiting less tedious.    

“Everyone has his number, right?”, asked the gloomy lady without any greeting, than cast a rapid glance upon a list she was holding. “Listen carefully, I won’t repeat it twice. First room – students with the numbers 4 and 6.” she announced loudly.

“Yesss!” Dongwoo gave a high-five to his friend, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Room number 4 – students 1, 3 and 5.”

“NO!” three voices cried in unison making the woman look up in surprise.

“I am not leaving with this…” started Sunggyu pointing at Woohyun who was taken aback just as much as the other two.

“Yes, you are. Period.” cut of the keyholder impatiently. “This is not a camping with your friends, number 3. You are going to live with those students and that is not a subject to change.”

“But I’m the arts…”

“No but. And the last couple – 2 and 7. You are sharing the room number 9. It’s at the end of the corridor.” finished the keyholder and looked over us once again. “Of course there are other students living in this building, and they will arrive in a few hours so hurry up. Tomorrow your first lecture starts at 9 am, breakfast at 8:20. If you have no questions, than that’s all.” reeled she off and hurried away, leaving a small box, filled with keys on the grass, before any of the students could start complaining again.

I exchanged joyful looks with Sungjong, who seemed pretty comfortable with the fact that we were going to share a room.

“Deepest condolences, dude!” Howon tapped Sungyeol, who looked like a martyr, on the shoulder and grabbed his violet sport bags.

Sungjong smiled and looked around with dreamy eyes.

“I’m feeling like we just arrived in some Korean Hogwarts” he said with a sunny smile making a step towards the dorm.

I burst out laughing and immediately pointed on Sungyeol.

“Well, at least we have our own angry owl.”

I watched Sungjong laugh on my stupid joke while we were making our way to the entrance.