His name was Woo Ji Ho, and on this date, September 14^th, 2012, he was turning twenty years old. Not that it really mattered to him or anybody else. It was a Friday, and his college classes had started almost exactly one month ago on Monday, August 13^th. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d decided to go to college. School was never much of a priority for the boy, and he wasn’t too keen on the college he’d chosen in the first place.

                In fact, how he’d ended up here was still a mystery, and as the late freshman slept peacefully in his dorm, albeit loud and snoring, he was letting the world pass him by. He had classes today, but his alarm hadn’t gone off and frankly, one Woo Ji Ho didn’t exactly care. Everything about going to school was hell for the boy and he was absolutely positive he would rather skip his basic college algebra math class than bother showing up.

                Of course, Woo Ji Ho would have been in remedial math after his grades from high school had barely let him graduate, but he’d outright refused to take more math classes than necessary, knowing if he’d taken remedial math that he’d have another required year of math later which he was absolutely not going to take.

                When his alarm finally did realize it had a job to do and it went off, Jiho groaned and flipped his body over toward the sound, not opening his eyes as he felt around for the damn object of his absolute annoyance. Instead of bothering to check the time, when he found the alarm clock, he promptly picked it up and chucked it into the opposite wall, not with enough force to break it, but enough to shut the damn thing up.

                And with that, Jiho sat up in his bed groggily, eyes showing bags from most of his nights of sleeplessness. His dyed blond hair stuck out in all directions, and he let out another audible groan to no one in particular.

                Fridays were great since they meant the weekend was coming, but it was still another day of classes, and the sleepy boy turned his body and felt around with his feet for the floor before sliding off his bed and staring at the opposite, empty wall where there might otherwise be a roommate. The only reason Jiho was even in college was because his high school teachers had liked him despite his grades and attendance record, or his lack thereof, and they’d pushed him off towards college with scholarships to get him through. The college had been picked out by the teachers themselves and was, unfortunately for him, the one most of his classmates from high school were attending through their own funding.

                And so with Jiho going off to college, the teachers had opted for getting him a private dorm room, something he was thankful for. He didn’t want to chance who his roommate might very unfortunately be, for both of their sakes, and as it was known by his teachers, Jiho had severe anger issues. Of course more often than not he took these issues out on himself, but if you were caught in the line of fire you might as well kiss your life goodbye and consider yourself doomed.

                Upon realizing his old teachers were pushing him off to college, Jiho had taken his own dwindling funds and gotten his hair restyled and dyed blond. It wasn’t much but he was hoping that by using a different name he’d come up with, “Zico,” he wouldn’t be recognized by his own classmates. The kids from his high school had hated Jiho, often seeing him as a prime target for bullying attacks. They found him easy to with because when he wasn’t angry, he was vulnerable, weak, and really a sweet guy. Aside from Jiho’s anger issues he was known for letting people into his heart almost too willingly, trusting them too fast. It was almost the opposite of how he should be, considering throughout his life the boy had found it quite difficult to make friends.

                Jiho had had no friends in high school, no one who sided with him for any reason. Those who didn’t partake in his everyday torture and bullying had never stepped up to save him. Some watched with sympathy, some disdain, and others applauded the bullies who had taken over his life. The teachers had tried to help but too many people had taken part in Jiho’s daily beatings for them to be able to help much. At some point some of the teachers considered putting him under some sort of witness protection program, but it had fallen through and Jiho had just continued to put up with the day by day bullies.

                The teachers knew this in itself was one reason for Jiho’s lack of attendance but they had figured at college he might do a better job, especially with a dorm on campus where he could just walk five minutes to class. However, in his first month here, Jiho hadn’t done all that well and was still rarely showing up to class. His bullies had easily found him hiding under his new nickname and so he avoided going to class if he could manage.

                Through his time here, however, he had made one friend, one more friend than he had ever had in his life. He was a junior by the name of Taeil, and as much of a friend as he was, Jiho more often than not had to laugh that the older boy was so little and cute and just generally immature for his age. Taeil’s dorm was unorganized like Jiho’s, but Taeil had tanks of fish that he took care of, or “fishies” as he called them. Taeil loved each of his fish, had given them all names, and when he wasn’t taking care of them, what else would he be doing other than playing with Legos?

                Jiho was rather hesitant on ever coming to Taeil’s dorm with him, though the other often insisted, because the short junior kept his Legos splayed out all over the floor and unorganized. Jiho always had to find a way around them, and every single time, without fail, he ended up stepping on a lego and biting his tongue in pain. From this Jiho had realized that no matter the circumstance, no one ever really knew pain until their bare foot landed on a Lego.

                As it were, Jiho was currently getting ready to waltz into his math class. He spiked up his hair nicely after he showered, sprayed on some nice cologne to smell good, and promptly covered his body with a long sleeved shirt. Taeil had found quickly that the only reason Jiho wore long-sleeved shirts when it was this warm out was to hide the scars that riddled his arms, and he had puffed up like an angry hedgehog and gotten mad at Jiho, making him promise he wouldn’t ever cut himself again. And so the scars were slowly fading away, though sometimes he longingly looked at his razors wondering if he shouldn’t just end it all. No one would care anyway, except maybe Taeil, but even then they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks and Taeil could get past him dying, right? He’d just move on like it never happened.

                As he thought about this, pulling on his sneakers, Jiho heard a knock at his dorm door. “Zicoooooo you’re late for claaaaaass,” Taeil whined  and scratched at the door like a sad puppy who wanted in. As Zico quietly tried to ignore him, Taeil added in, “And don’t bother not answering I know you’re in there lazily getting ready like usual. Now get your out this door before I break it down.”

               Jiho only chuckled and opened the door, looking down at the much shorter boy. “You really know me too well Taeil. How’d you learn so much about me in two weeks?”

               Taeil rolled his eyes. “It was simple after you made yourself drunk and spilled your entire life story to me in the span of an hour and a half.”

               Zico blushed as he remembered the incident in his mind quietly. “Oh.. Right..” He said before shuffling out the door with his books and dorm key and shut it behind him.

               Taeil did a once over of the taller boy to make sure he looked okay, and when he was satisfied, he happily linked arms with the other and started skipping off down the hallway of the dorm and outside. They walked to class together since Zico’s math class was on the way to Taeil’s own class in the music building. It was one thing the two shared in common. They both loved music, and while Zico loved to rap and occasionally would sing, he found Taeil’s singing voice was absolutely flawless and every time he heard the other sing his mouth would undoubtedly drop open in shock.

               Taeil wasn’t much protection from the bullies, but they seemed to steer clear of Zico in the mornings when he and Taeil would walk to class together. It was as if they didn’t want to mess with the short boy though they had no particular reason to stay away from him or fear him. Zico was just glad for his walking partner’s company in the mornings, not minding that Taeil’s constant arm linking, humming, and skipping made them both look flamboyantly gay, considering that’s exactly what Taeil was. Zico often joked and called him a flaming homo, though Taeil knew it was all in jest and simply laughed with him.

               Within the two short weeks the boys had known each other, Taeil had already kissed Zico once. The incident had occurred when Zico had confessed he didn’t know his own uality since he’d never dated or kissed anyone. Taeil couldn’t have said the same since he’d met a freshman right at the beginning of the school year and the two were now dating. When Taeil had kissed Zico, he was a bit surprised and had asked if Taeil’s boyfriend would get mad, to which Taeil laughed and had answered, “No, silly, I’m just trying to help you figure out if you like boys or not. So, did you like the kiss?”

               Zico had grumbled something about how Taeil had just stolen his first kiss without asking, which Taeil didn’t catch, and Zico quietly answered that he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. The answer hadn’t satisfied Taeil but Zico told him he’d just have to find someone to date on his own time and experiment for himself.

               All these thoughts and recent memories raced through Woo Jiho’s mind as he quietly walked, satisfied with the only conversation being Taeil’s quiet, happy humming. Before he knew it, Taeil kissed his cheek and unlinked their arms, smiling and skipping off. “Have a good class!” he yelled behind him as he waved, and Zico shook his head with a small laugh, giving a small wave to the other before entering his math class late.

               The professor looked at him distastefully and she cleared . “Zico, you’re extremely late. Again.”

               As the class snickered at her remark, Zico waved her off and sighed, “I know, teach, I know. My alarm clock decided to kick in half an hour late this morning so you can’t blame me today.” He then walked toward the back of his class, where he sat and kicked up his feet without much regard for what the teacher thought of his behavior, and he laced his hands behind his head and watched as she continued the lesson. Of course, he didn’t take any notes and he certainly didn’t do any work.

               When class ended, Zico got up and started to stalk out of the room in his usual nonchalant manner, but he didn’t get very far. “Zico, I need to talk to you. Come here please.”

               Zico froze at her words before he groaned and rolled his eyes, turning back around and walking to the professor’s desk as all the other students poured out of the room.

                At least..all but one. One student who wasn’t in his class quietly made his way into the room and waited towards the door, but with Zico’s back turned to him, he didn’t notice the other.

                “Zico..” his teacher started, “I’ve been noticing your lack of attendance and failure to turn in your work has gotten you very far behind in this course already, and we’re only one month into class. You’re already failing and you need to pick up the pace and get it together.”

                Zico sighed, “I know, teach, I know, I just—“

                He was cut short by a hand telling him to stop talking, and the teacher continued. “Now, Zico, I don’t want any excuses. To get you caught up I’m having you tutored once a week starting next Thursday. You will be here by exactly 10:30 every Thursday morning or there will be trouble young man, do you understand?”

                Zico sighed and put a hand up to his face, running it back through his blond spikes. “But teach I have a class at that ti—“

                “Zico,” she said sternly, “Do not lie to me. I’ve already checked your schedule at the main office and I made sure you didn’t have a class at the time scheduled. I know you don’t have any classes on Thursday until later in the afternoon. Now, your tutor is right behind you. Come here, Kyung.”

                Zico turned around and saw a boy walk forward and his eyes went a little wide. “Kyung here is your age but he’s in the advanced math class, and he will be your tutor for this course every Thursday morning. He gave me his schedule and I made sure neither of you would have classes around that time, and he is very eager and willing to help you learn the material needed for this course.”

                With that, Zico groaned again and watched the slightly shorter boy. He was nerdy looking, and if he was taking an advanced math class it only made him even more of a nerd. He was probably king of the chess club too or something, if this school had a chess club. The boy ignored his groan however, and smiled. “Hello, Zico! I am Park Kyung! It is very nice to make your acquaintance. I’m sure we will have much fun together learning math! I promise to teach you everything you need to know!”

                He was way too sickeningly happy for Zico’s taste, and he visibly died a little on the inside. This year was going to even more than high school, and that was saying something. He was pretty sure he could just die right here.

                “I will start you off on the basic functions of Algebra and then we will advance to equations. By the end of the year you will be a genius at logarithms and foiling formulas!” Kyung smiled happily up at him.

                Yeah, it was official. Zico was going to die.