Minha and Soojin crowded over Taeyeon’s corner window seat, which they both claimed to envy.

It had been two months since she first transferred to Incheon Private High. Since everyone gravitated all their attention to their own lives, blending in was rather simple. Studies first, social life last, after all. In fact, the reason why the corner seat by the window was actually empty was because no one wanted it. It was apparently too far from the blackboard.

But she didn't mind this kind of school life. It was nice, it was boring, and it was perfect. The lifestyle that she once knew was now completely gone out of her being. This was what she had always wanted. She was perfectly fine alone.

Guilt gnawed on her chest.

Ignore it.

“Taeyeon? Are you eating or not?”

Taeyeon blinked out of her reverie and gave a seemingly energetic nod. She noticed their impatience and contemplatively thought to herself as she nudged her glasses upwards.

Slowly smoothing down her green-checkered skirt, she shifted through her bag to pull out her packed lunchbox and some papers. The eyes of her two lunch-mates—because literally, that’s all they were—stared intently at her, obviously wanting to quickly get out of the cell that society called a classroom. But Taeyeon kept her pace as leisurely as she could.

Before Soojin could let out an exasperated sigh, Taeyeon promptly interjected, “I think you guys better go on ahead. I think I left a portion of my assignment at home, so I probably have to go tell Mr. Park.”

Minha and Soojin exchanged hesitant looks. Noticing their reluctance, Taeyeon sighed under her breath before slightly tilting her head as she smiled brightly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine by myself.”

✪   ✪   ✪

Walking through the once-foreign halls of Incheon Private High, the petite girl slowly headed towards the Intersection, where the staff room was located. Unlike the boisterous life that the halls of her previously attended schools had, the corridor was bare, save a few upper classmen leaning on the walls for some support as they memorized this week’s English grammar fragments.

Glancing inside one of the classrooms as she passed by, Taeyeon noticed the clock.

12:31 p.m.

Surprised at the time, she quickened her pace. Despite her lack of athletic perseverance, Taeyeon began to jog across the building, shortening the 5-minute walk to seconds. When she spotted the stairs that led to the Intersection, she started to slow down and descended the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. She then walked to the staff room. Slowly, she opened the burgundy-colored wooden doors.

The staff room didn’t look like a staff room; it was more like an office. In the middle of the large room, there was a bundle of gray cubicles that housed the interns and teacher assistants. On the left and right of the interns were two doors (one for the Principal and the other for the Vice Principal, both from the Educational faction), while beyond the room were two pathways on the back that led to the teacher offices.

Slightly bowing to the interns as she passed by as a greeting, Taeyeon headed for Mr. Park’s office and knocked on his door.

“Come in,” a muffled voice called out.

The petite girl opened the door and closed it behind her once she entered the small room. Mr. Park lifted his head from his paper work and flashed a warm smile to his student. Wiping his mouth from the sauces of his sandwich with the back of his hand, the balding teacher gestured to the seat in front of him. Taeyeon sat down and glanced at his half-eaten sandwich instinctively. Her stomach suddenly felt empty.

“So, Taeyeon-ah, what brings you here?”

Shifting her attention back to her teacher, Taeyeon displayed a sheepish grin. Out of nervousness, the girl started to play with the hems of her skirt as she spoke.

“You see, Mr. Park, my club recordings of H.A.T.S. are gone. Is it alright if I just handed them back to you on Monday?”

Mr. Park blinked and resisted to crack a smile After all, that club rarely did anything (Does it even have any activities? he mused to himself).

Just as he was beginning to brush off Taeyeon's question, a light bulb flashed inside his head. Feigning to be perplexed, the teacher furrowed his brows in deep thought.

“This,” he started, “this is a problem.”

Mr. Park allowed a long silence to persist while he put his sandwich away from him, placing his elbows on the desk as he leaned his upper torso on them. When he saw the optimism gradually draining away from Taeyeon’s face, he tried to resist the temptation to grin. 

Sighing, Mr. Park scrunched up his face as he faked contemplating another thought. Just before Taeyeon was about to apologize for the inconvenience, the teacher spoke.

“Well, I guess I could extend the due date…. but you’ll have to do something in return,” he said slowly.

Brown eyes sparkled at the statement. Naïve as she was, Taeyeon hastily nodded energetically.

“Of course, Mr. Park, anything will do.”

Crinkling his crowfeet beside his eyes, the old man gave a pleasant smile and handed the small student a filing folder. With her soft, pale hands, the small girl grabbed the envelope with hesitancy at first. What was she supposed to do with it?

Mr. Park then began to explain after noticing her confusion.

“I would like you to do me a favor. Send this to Mr. Cheol-soo Lee in the Specials’ staff room, will you? If you go left and all the way back, you’ll see his room,” he said.

After Taeyeon registered his words, she gave a heartening grin.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Park!” she replied.

She quickly got up from her seat and bowed before leaving the Educational staff room. When he was certain that she was gone, Mr. Park relaxed in his leather seat, twirling around.

He muttered, “Ah, youth. So gullible and cute,” and drained down the remains of his soda, chuckling to himself.

✪   ✪   ✪

“You can’t do this, Mr. Lee. This is ridiculous!”

Her brunette locks jerked as she froze her movements, stopping her hand from turning the knob.

“You know what’s ridiculous? The amount of respect you commit in my classes. You know the rules, and these are the repercussions of your actions. Now get out of my office, unless you have anything else to say.”

An extended silence ensued. Feeling that the boy was going to leave soon, Taeyeon quickly moved out of sight. The golden handle twisted and the mahogany door tore open. A flash of hair passed by the corner of her eyes and quickly exited the scene. Taeyeon unknowingly released her breath that she was holding.

Not knowing what to do, the small girl decided to walk inside. She knocked on the door and popped her head inside. Mr. Lee’s thick eyebrows furrowed inwards, causing a row of lines to appear on his forehead. His gray hairs were neatly combed back, and he forcefully loosened his constricting tie on his neck.

“Um… Mr. Park told me to hand out these notes to you?” her reticent voice intruded the prolonged silence.

Realizing that another student was in his presence, the teacher gathered himself and displayed a quick smile as he took the folder. 

“Thank you, Miss…?”

“Ah, my name is Kim Taeyeon, a student from Mr. Park’s class. He asked me to hand this to you.”

Mr. Lee raised his bushy eyebrows in genuine surprise. His old, coarse voice echoed her statement,.

“Kim Taeyeon, from Mr. Park’s? So, the leader of that… that club that the principal assigned you.”

His wrinkly finger bounced to the direction of Taeyeon. Taeyeon nodded slowly.

“I see… I see,” the elderly man muttered to himself.

Breaking out of his own musings, Mr. Lee gave an unusually bright smile to the girl as he bid her good-bye, “Well, tell Mr. Park ‘Thank you’ and you have a good lunch.”

With that, Taeyeon strangely found herself outside the Specials’ staff room, leaning on the door. That was, she blankly thought, strange.

A loud noise resonated across school campus right when she was about run back to class for a bite of her lunch.

“Diiiiinnnnggggg”

Taeyeon checked her watch.

12:55 p.m.

“Grwwwoowl…..”

The girl could only sigh.

✪   ✪   ✪

( 3   d a y s   l a t e r )

“Monday, the Seventh of October, 20XX.

Library windows cleaned with mixtures of Vinegar (1/4c), Alcohol (1/4c), Cornstarch (1 tbsp), and Water (2c). Windows finished at 3: 23 pm. Sorted documents and research novels for 20 minutes. Stored textbooks and rearranged them in numerical order for 15 minutes in the storage facilities. No check-outs or returns today.”

Readjusting her glasses, Taeyeon stretched out her tense, back muscles. She softly placed her pen down. A smile grew on her small face as her eyes reflected the view of the setting sun. The large library was empty and silent. Just the way she liked it.

She would never cease to be amazed at the scarcity of people in the school library. The only ones who were actual regulars here were the janitor and a few group of students who seldom came to use the computers.

“The power of the Specials,” Taeyeon thought.

The Specials. The other half of the school.

You see, this school was no ordinary school, as much as Taeyeon wished that it was. This was Incheon Private High, a golden name that would even amaze foreigners. With acclaimed professors and tutors hired from all over the country, this high-classed school produces top students that would supply great innovations for future generations. Hell, even Obama lauded its educational system that vastly differed from that of the vigorous, ineffective public schools of South Korea. This was the dream school of every nerd.

BUT, what actually made this school truly special was something else. The Educational system wasn’t the one that brought numerous amount of media coverage on this school—it was the Specials system. This part of the school is the second half of Incheon Private High, only connected to the Educational building through the Intersection, where the staff room is located.

The Specials System is a different faction of the school where the arts and sports are upheld. Artists, designers, models, athletes, dancers, and singers strive to attend this part of the school. Once you get in, your future guarantees success. Contracts and companies all over the world accept any letters of applications from this school, even in selective entertainment industries.

However, just as the acceptance rate for the Educational faction is less than 9%, the Specials’ acceptance rate is less than 3%. The only way to get in is through the school’s scouts, being a trainee of a big company (for singers, dancers, or actors), or auditioning in the summer. Usually, after graduation, they are admitted into the company of their choice. In some cases, students are already admitted into other companies during the school year and, in exceptional cases, debut during their time at school.

But Taeyeon didn’t want anything to do with that part of her school. She had her own reasons for coming here. Her hard work strived for only one goal: normalcy. She came to be an upstanding ordinary citizen by completing homework, graduating, and getting an office job or maybe even becoming a doctor. Who knows.

Her faction was in the Educational faction, not the Specials faction. The only thing she was thankful about that part of the school was that no one ever came to this library. After all, this beautifully constructed library was made just for the Specials department. Educational students weren’t allowed in the Specials building too; if such a thing happened, this place would already be hoarded by those book- parasites that they call students.

Here, she’s all alone.

Once again repeating that statement in her head, Taeyeon heaved out a sigh. What was she worrying about? After all, why would she ever come to meet a Special? Her life here would finally be as invisible and as normal as it could be. She was never going to have an adventerous lifestyle, romance, long lasting friendships, and irreplacable memories.Why would she even be chosen to have that sort of lucky fate? She never wanted them -- or rather, she could never have them anyways.

Done with entertaining her thoughts about her strange school, the brown-haired girl realized she hadn’t written down her club activities. She shook her head to get focused once more. But just when she reached for her pen, her phone rang. 

A bright light from her phone signaled that a message had arrived. Opening the message, Taeyeon read, “Before you go, take out the Biology textbooks in Storage Room 7. Thank you.”

Taeyeon inwardly groaned. She shifted her heavy footsteps and headed towards the back of the room, navigating through the shelves of books. She flitted across the expansive space as the light from the windows basked on her figure. Once she reached storage facilities, she shoved the huge door open, grunting.

However, unbeknownst to her, just as she closed the door, another door opened.

A chime and a jingle accompanied the sound of the front library's entrance. A pair of black Adidas slowly took a step in and stopped. An aroma of books greeted his tentative posture. A bob of hair swished around, looking for anyone around his vicinity. Silence only answered him.

With the elegance of a leopard, the student prowled through the rows of books, seeking for a certain someone whose name was written in a thin sheet of paper tucked in his left pants pocket. His lazy strides maneuvered through each bookshelf. His figure soon stopped to pull out a leather-cased novel, taking his sweet time. After placating his curiosity, the boy eventually approached the front desk, where he noticed a student bag. A person's here. 

Drumming his fingers on the wooden desk, the boy decided to kill time by exploring the unknown library some more. He had never even known there was a library on campus, as strange as it was. With that, he delved into the far corner of the magazines. His black shoes took a stop, and his smooth hands gracefully collected a magazine. He flipped through the glossy pages, skimming over the faces of him and his group mates from a photo-shoot taken a few weeks back.

Suddenly, he heard a door open and close. Small taps on the carpeted floor walked closer to the center of the room. His accented chin shifted with his movements as he turned to the direction of the noise. From the far corner of his eyes, he noticed a female student (he grimaced at the fact) sitting where he had just been at: the front desk.

Taeyeon, on the other hand, grinned triumphantly. Her chores today were finished. Books were out for the staff to collect them in the morning, and she had just finished writing her club statement: a mere sentence that she thought would remain the same for the next three years.

“No attendees for H.A.T.S.”

Finally done for the day, Taeyeon began to pack up her belongings as she hummed a small tune, ready to head home. Abruptly, a shadow ghosted over her desk, and the girl froze her actions. Her grip on her beige jacket loosened. 

A beguiling voice echoed across the desolate building. Taeyeon fluttered her long eyelashes as she slowly lifted her caramel-colored eyes.

“Hi.”