My eyes blink open as I escape from my daydream and back in to reality. I look up and realise that the teacher was writing some music notes on the black board with a worn-out white chalk grabbed firmly by her two fingers. The chalk makes a screetching sound as it violently glides across the bumpy board as she writes. I shake my head, almost falling asleep from boredom. What class was this again? Oh, right. Music.

I sighed to myself quietly. The palm of my hand cupped my cheek as I rested my elbow on the desk. About four seats in front of me sat Jungkook. I just about saw the side of his face, with his perfect black hair facing me. I felt like smiling, and perhaps unknowingly, I was. He seemed as if he was concentrating whilst looking at the teacher, though I doubt if any of it was going in to his mind. I wonder what he's thinking.

"Excuse me. Miss Young?"

I perked my head up. I hadn't realise that the teacher had called my name. "N-ne?" I stutter

"I asked you a question."

I blinked, not knowing what to say. I hadn't been listening at all. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that again?"

The teacher sighed. "How many times have I scolded you during music class? I told you to listen. You're not. For goodness sake, see me after class for your unacceptable behaviour." she let out a sound of frustration and her fingers returned to make screetching sounds on the black board that sounded like nails.

Someone behind me began to tut. "Yeah. You should listen more" she said, shaking her head. Clearly she didn't mean it in a motivative way.

"You're supposed to be the smart one. Obviously maybe not for this class." another said.

I hated this class. I hated it. It's the one class i'm not good at. But in fact, what that person had said, is true.

I am supposed to be the smart one. Supposed to; but not for this class, no. I do geometry, chemistry, academics. Things that include being intelligent and sophisticated. Not music. I'm not creative or artistic. I learn what I learn, I can solve problems, I will absorb information, but when it comes to thinking for myself, I am stuck, clueless at what to do. Of course, you would think that being smart is a good thing. That it will take you to college or university. But everything has it's disadvantages.

Because of this, I am what you call your typical nerd. A dull, hand-me-down jumper, an everyday ponytail, square glasses whilst carrying books with me every single hour of the school day. There were some qualities in me that was common in most wallflowers.

Solving quadratic and linear equations and formulas. It was something to keep my mind thinking logically, focusing on reality and not wander off in to a out-of-the world fantasy daydream like most girls would do. I wanted to keep my head in Earth instead, to know that the reality of the world is harsh and only the good survive, though sometimes, I can't help wandering off. Solving harder equations and finding the answer, using extremely complex formulas, having logical explanations was my thing. It was what I liked, something to keep me occupied. If I could compete and do well in anything, it would have to be something academic. It's the only thing I can do, the only thing I am good at. It was something to make my parents and relatives proud of me for once in my life. Ever since I grew up in this world, at a considerate age, my observations from watching my surroundings of life and people in it were pin-pointed by me; they were receiving academic awards, achieving medals in what they were majoring in, children getting top or bottom place in school, it was then that I realised that there was a common motto provoked in this world; it's either number one or a failure.

And I didn't want to be a failure, not anything of the likes. I didn't want to be one of those people that would break down crying when they had received their test results, or one of those that didn't have a passion in life. Thus, knowing that I would have been one of those people at the time, without any unique talents or skills, I resulted to the only thing I could. To study. Not just to study, but to study and becoming the top of the class. A smart cookie, as they would call it. My parents pressured me in to becoming either a doctor or a lawyer, and, knowing that I didn't have anything else to do or major in, I took their advice and studied as best as I could. I studied more and more over the past years including in to high school, so much so that the words of being 'social' anymore have not been encountered by me at all, it was as if amusement and the joy of having fun had gradually faded away right before my eyes. Life had never seemed so dull.

As I grew up, I was bullied, too. Not only because I didn't have friends and spend a majority of my time with books and reading, but it was because of the way I looked. I'm short. Below average. A stripped sweater was my sense of fashion. And I've been told a lot of things, too. I remember when I was thirteen, a girl and her sniggering friend came out of nowhere as I was putting books back in my locker when she had violently turned my shoulder to face her. She began to smirk, "Pig tails, huh? What are you, third-grader?" a burst of laughter came from as she began to vigorously play with my braids. I put on a face and walked away, that was until she had yanked my hair, resulting in me bending my spine and cringing down to my knees. I remember crying beads of tears after that. Their laughter mocked me from day to day. Kids were just cruel at that age, and, naturally, people had joined in with her teasing. The bitter words of "You're ugly", "You're fat" or "You're useless" were words that they acted like as if it was sweet for them to say. And soon enough, I started believing them. The words they say, the things they do, it was torturing me. So much that I became scared of going to school anymore. I thought to myself that if it wasn't true, then why are they saying it? People say to ignore these kind of things, but you have no idea how hard it is when they're all frantically looking down on you and laughing eveywhere you turn. It was inescapable. For me, it seemed as if the whole world holds their negative opinion on me like that. And there wasn't anything for me to do to stop it. "Words will never hurt me?" Don't lie. Once it's said, it echoes repetitively through your mind. I wanted to turn to self destruction, I wanted to so badly.

"Words will just be words, till you bring them to life."

It carried on like that throughout middle school, for two whole years. And it left me bruised and battered to the core of myself. Everything that I had thought back then about myself, I still have the same opinion today. With my ponytail high and typical square glasses, I came to be classified by others as dull and boring, and finally a loner. I didn't make any friends, so I had spent a lot of time in the library, where I studied for hours after school or occassionally just come in to read a good book. The library was nice and peaceful, and for once I had felt like the voices in my head had shut down. I began loving reading fantasy, romantic novels since I had come across them. It got me dreaming and fantasizing about things that can only exist in my head. Learning the characters feelings of love for one another by just reading the words gave me such a giddy feeling. It stopped me from having to think for a moment, to push away all things logical and real and just imagine. Imagine what it was like to be in love with someone. And that was a first time for me. Imagining let me think freely; that anything can happen. Any time. But sometimes, you have to remember open your eyes. 

"Imagination is the only escape" 

I am a quiet one, too. Unnoticed, most of the time. I don't say much, but I think about things a lot. The two years of suffering in middle school had led me to become like this; dull, untalkative and unnoticed. I had become unconfident in myself, with the words 'faith' and 'hope' gone, lost in meaning. I was a study machine who loved the company of books rather than real people, to be on my own rather to have friends, to become independent and subordinate, because the trust between me and human society has been cut. There was only myself. The aching pressure and oppression to have more friends and to talk to people pained me. It was as if everyone was engaging with each other smoothly like it was the most natural thing in the world. And there I was, am, sitting on my own watching every single one of them interract with each other whilst I am the outcast, a reject, made transparent so that no one would be able to see me. And I didn't want anyone to see me, or look at me. I'm much more comfortable living in their shadows, everyone is getting along with each other, so why should I bother them? I would only be a nuisance. I didn't want anyone to notice me, until, you came.

Unexpectedly, you swept me off my feet. You came in that one day in freshman year with your flaming charisma and shining aura. You were new, a young boy from a small town called Busan come to study in the big city of Seoul. Everyone had turned their eyes on you, scanning you up and down, the class seemed interested as you gave a greeting and a polite bow. When you sat down, some people were starting to talk to you already. And it continued like that in every new class you had that day. And for the upcoming months, too.

That was how you became popular. Everyone knowing your name, everyone loving you. And I was one of them. My liking for you gradually grew more and more, and when I knew your talents for dancing and singing, it was there that it blossomed the most. Your small movements put my stomach in a whirl.

I was made confused; you were harder to solve than an equation and left me puzzled, you were like the lead, main roles in my favourite stories and stole my heart, you were like my voice, speaking out for me when I didn't have to say anything, you were everything, everything i'm not.

And here I am. A wallflower. Unnoticed and apparently invisible to the world. A study-hard girl with a passion for academics.

This is who I am. I am me, myself.

"With the useless hope that you'll look at me once

The conversation that I have with you all night in my imagination

Im deep inside of you, I can't get over it

Only you can light up my surroundings"

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A/N: It's been nice writing this so far. Lyrics are from Block B's 'Be The Light'. Oh, and the next chapter is the last chapter. Comment and subscribe! Thank you, much love. Xo.