5 hours before this very instant Baekhyun caught hold of the last ticket down the memory express train, that Mrs. Byun had advise him on a couple of things; one, tomato ketchup and waffles make the most awful duet for any breakfast, period.

Two, to never trust a stranger or anyone in that matter who smiles reminds him of a car salesman. But now weighing consideration onto the scale, on where the he got his stuck this time, Byun Baekhyun is debating with himself against the latter half of her words.

“Be careful of the school’s student council.”

Baekhyun forgot who gave him that piece of warning, he had also fail to bring himself to heed them. Question marks rippled above his head, but Baek-meh-hyun dismissed it. Because, if it had been such a big of a deal, Baekhyun would have at the very least decency as to reason why. 

Sakura petals were blushing in pink, skies puddle into azure blue, the building is pasty white. From court level the school is made up of symmetrical blocks that sigh out formality and system. It is simply an institution that squeezes the pulp out of kids to make of a civilized human as its outputs.

But Byun Baekhyun didn’t see past all the recipes of club fliers plastered over the pale walls, past the fluctuating wind chimes from the distant music room, past the pungent smell of newly mopped disinfectant on the floor or lines of students fossilized in front of their respective lockers.

Not a .

If anything, Byun Baekhyun was nothing but excited. Blatantly speaking, the school is a fish market for new friends, correction; The Great Barrier Reef to be precise. Looking forward for new comrades is the most joy he can relate to after they bubbled wrapped the remnant of his adolescent years here.

“Jobs don’t grow on trees,” as Mr. Byun argued between the waffle chews, while Baekhyun took a moment in pondering how literally that would be like, whilst guzzling a glass of milk. He still believes that chugging on one of those daily would eventually compensate for the lack of height of his bone marrows.

He made sure to brush his teeth twice, because dear lord please no tomato breath. Hair checked, angel and sleek. Yes, because that’s how good Baekhyun’s hair looked. Hold on to the guyliner, he doesn’t need them there. 

“Class I’d like you to meet your new classmate.”

“Hello everyone, Byun Baekhyun is the name,” a fluid spoken line that was repeatedly regurgitated during the last 30 minutes on the car ride here.  A 90^o degrees bow soon followed.

“Take a seat by the back row,” the teacher aims his thumb as if young Byun can’t identify the vacant chair by himself. Clutching tight on the straps, he permits his feet to carry themselves.

Lucky for him the guy seated next to him seems approachable, or so he thought. Now, if eagerness were to be measure as to radiate light, then Byun Baekhyun would be the brightest mothering bulb in that room, with glitter jabs at each 100 kilowatt smile thrown.

“Hye nice to meet yo- ,” whilst pulling out his chair, Baekhyun attempts on breaking the ice, but later having to shove the rest of his polite greeting at the back of his throat. He was abruptly cut off by the sight of an unexpected yet ever so lovely gift on the chair, glinting in dull under the fluorescent light.

On his damn chair. Thumbtacks.

His eyes bore holes onto the chair, staring the scattered tacks through narrowed lids. Who in the hell sticks pointy contrivance into anyone’s for fun?  Nope, Byun Baekhyun shall not tolerate with this. God damn it, as a school enthusiast he will not cope with any form of bullying, not on his first day as a matter of fact.

“Excuse me Mr. Zhang, but apparently there’s some sharp tacks on this chair!” with stink eyes that overlapped between his monolids and hand arise high up in the air, Baekhyun boldly speaks out. Refusing to bow down, more so to sit down on any sort of absurd mischief.

Baekhyun pictured the next scene would involve lukewarm scolding, or whatever that teachers were supposed to do when placed in this sort of typical situation. After, Baekhyun envisioned the class’ attention would huddle together, blowing it off with a dry laugh and class will resume as scheduled. But god forbid it didn’t happen as so.

Plastic capped metal and gray concrete emits the most annoying screech when they chaffed together, but not a molecule of scary when the guy next to him suddenly shifts his chair position, now acute angle, slightly facing Baekhyun actually.

And if young Byun didn’t know any better, as nonchalant as this unknown guy mirrored himself to be, he is imposing a seriously threatening gaze. Behind the dark copper locks jutting loose from the hairline above his forehead, Baekhyun could sense his daggered stare, ones that will most likely interprets between the fine lines of;

‘Shut up and sit down like a good little peasant you are’

or

 ‘Say anything and I’ll be sure to make your life a living hell.’

Or maybe Byun Baekhyun got run over by the usual whacked out paranoia train railing in his brain.

In the meantime, Mr. Zhang packed his belongings at a half-assed pace, and if and only if that man was to be a pilot, he would have been midway to the South Pole by now. Yes, he was at that level of agility.

The lanky teacher scampered out of the classroom without an umbrella for the beading sweats that his forehead had successfully collected. Bubbling out small incoherent noise in a brow-raising manner that reminds Baekhyun of a whimpering puppy stuck in a drain canal.

‘What even, this can’t be happening, what a wimp!’

Baekhyun gawks in disbelieve, and the last thing he barely caught glimpse of is Mr. Zhang’s almost tripping on his own shoelace while wheezing out through the door.

“Sit.” Urgent and deep, that’s how Baekhyun’s mind quick to perceive the guy-next-desk’s tone. One that that made him does a clockwork turn to the said owner of voice.

However, like a cute little pug, compact but feisty, Byun Baekhyun didn’t wear the peachiest look on his face either. Not amused to say the least. Crimson beams would bounce off and dig into walls if either of them starts shooting laser from the drilling gazes. Almost naturally, Byun Baekhyun gave the male an elevator judging look.

Long striding stilt legs, neatly folder folded under his desk, which looked miniature on the male to be honest. With his spine cradled onto the head panel of his chair, synonymous with poised and blasé as his second skin. Until that one prominent feature, it barely forms a crescent. But it lifted upward, Baekhyun was certain of that.

“Hello, Park Chanyeol. It’s a pleasure meeting you too.”

A slow slew just like that, the boy’s lips brew itself into a smile, one that reek of half-heartedly. And what irked Baekhyun more was the wide glossy eyes that he could get lost in. Negative trace of guilt; feign trace of innocence if you asked him. This Park Chanyeol is clearly the culprit to blame for the entire shenanigan.

Unlike the bold pug, the other classmates were frozen fixed in their seat, happy colors filtered completely off their faces. The unnerved vibe was like smoke tainting the oxygen, a definite tangibility. By the last row, everyone’s shoulders were squared high, eyes glued on their desks as if the very grim reaper dangling a hanging noose provocatively above their noses.

A suiting reply out of Byun Baekhyun is to breathe out a moldy sharp huff, mind really how his nostrils didn’t shoot out steam while at it. By a handful, Baekhyun threw the tacks onto the floor, finally slamming his into his ‘throne’. Expression wise, he still ain’t a tad of satisfied.

Young Byun mentally pins this into his brain; Ain’t nobody gonna roll his life as twiddly easy like that, especially not an amateur joke like so. And this Park Chanyeol screams of someone whom he should try not to get associated with. Ugh.

“Pfft, what a kill joy,” a drab sigh soon followed, one that didn’t belong to the little pug.

“Baekhyun !”

Now, young Byun would have expect someone hollering him up in case he had forgotten and left any belongings behind, or maybe even another peer decides to tag along on his trip to the Looville. But no, today just got weirder and never fail to cease to amaze him yet again.

Turning his back, they swept him under both arms, tucking them in with their own two limbs. Proceeding as to drag Baekhyun elsewhere, because seclusion is a pretty expensive privilege out in the open hallway. Byun Baekhyun didn’t even have a scrape of a moment to react rationally, hell he didn’t even had a chance to look at these two goons’ faces.