Before you all read this I want to let you know that I did change the forewords before I posted this chapter so if you read the forewords before this chapter was posted please go back to read the new one ^^! Sorry for the long wait; Enjoy!

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Jung Yonghwa tiredly stepped out onto his eroded cement doorstep and held up the daily newspaper to his face. It was September 2, 2011; the nineteenth anniversary of the death of Jung Seunghyun, the founder of the university he was forced to attend. Every year was like this—when the time came, the media would revive the old mysterious tale of Jung Seunghyun’s assassination so much that every student knew the rumours inside out. Some say the killer was a member of a runaway homicidal gang and others deemed his death as suicide motivated by clinical depression. The only fascinating thing that set his departure from the secular world apart from most was a beautiful red rose, freshly blossomed that lay flat in a puddle of his own blood. Yonghwa skimmed over the headlines once and quickly grew uninterested, tossing it as litter onto his disgraceful excuse for a front lawn to decompose. Today was the first day of his second year, and he wanted nothing to do with the superstitions that floated among his peers this time every year.

            At the front entrance, he was quickly greeted by Park Shinhye, the only person he bothered associating himself with amongst all the other Neanderthals that labeled themselves as students here. There was nothing unique about her that appealed to him, but rather, he spoke to her because she had nothing wrong with her. It didn't take long for him to start seeing the invisible sparks between them but he pushed those thoughts aside, succumbing himself to his own secluded world.

            “It’s all over the news again.” Shinhye sighed, handing him the exact same newspaper he had thrown out earlier. He took a deep breath, slapping it carelessly out of her hand and continued into the school, shoving past her sidekick-like friend, Hyomin. He had no interest in anything that did not relate to him, but little did he know that the mystifying account of Jung Seunghyun would unravel the darkest secrets of his late ancestral past he so unknowingly desired to uncover. Yonghwa entered his empty classroom early, placing his guitar on the stand and sighing heavily. He wasn’t quite sure why he brought it today, being the first class of the year, just the feeling of not having his guitar around left him with a sense of insecurity he needed to fill. Along with that though, he knew better than anyone that he had more insecurities that couldn’t be so easily covered by the presence of his guitar. He grew up penniless, parentless, knowing nothing but coldness from the world. From an orphanage to a foster home, to running away to the lousy one-story house he now rented, he could never let go of the hate he retained from being ostracized for his problems that he was incapable of solving.

            “Early again?” Shinhye asked rhetorically, her shortlived laughter was retained by a hint of discomfort with the fact that they were alone in a classroom together. Yonghwa couldn’t help but glance in her direction after she took a seat two rows behind him. Her head was down, digging through her backpack for a ball point pen when he managed to steal a glance. This habit of his developed near the end of last year, and he wasn’t quite sure why he started but he was subtle enough to never get caught. It almost became like a game to him. What he knew for sure was that the last thing he needed in his life was a girlfriend. In fact, he’d never considered getting one, nor could his mind rationally imagine himself paired up next to a girl all dolled up for a date. All that was just horseplay, something he learned to never waste time and effort in. Thankfully for him, Shinhye had no intentions of becoming romantically involved with such an emotionally broken guy. She could summarize the result of their friendship from her empathy for him, both having lived a significant amount of time without parental guidance.

            “Oh? How did you two get in here...” Their music professor trudged into the classroom wearing his repulsive mustard overalls, pushing up his condiment matching ketchup red glasses as he fidgeted with a key in his free hand, “I was sure this door was locked.” They knew this professor well. Though he seemed clumsy and disorganized, when it came down to it he was strict and could enforce a lesson with his eyes closed. This taught them that looks could be more than deceiving—they could be scary. Shinhye shrugged in response, having seen the door half open when she got to the end of the hallway. She shot Yonghwa and confused glance and he answered casually without giving eye contact,

            “Maybe you should hide the keys in less obvious places like between the door hinges.” That was where every teacher put the keys to the classrooms. The office never had spares so if a key was locked in a room they would have to resort to breaking down the door. Still, teachers never cared enough to take better care of them, just as most of them never gave more than half a seconds’ worth of care for any of the student’s education. If they wanted out, they themselves had to work for it. Shinhye made her way up to his desk, grabbing a sharpener that she was surprised hadn’t been stolen over the summer. Their professor slammed a stack of textbooks on the desktop, the impact made a folded slip of paper bounce and slide off onto the floor, landing in front of Shinhye’s shoes. When she picked it up, she realized it was the class list of students and curiously browsed through the names. She knew everyone in this university. Though it was legally labelled as a post secondary school, their student population amounted to only slightly less than the generic high school making it easy for her to memorize everyone’s names and faces in her year. She recognized each one with ease, all except one.

            “Excuse you,” The professor let out an airy cough, snatching the sheet from her hands as his ketchup coloured classes slid down the bridge of his nose. She bowed timidly and blew the loose wooden shavings off the tip of her pointed pencil, marching back to her desk without sparing Yonghwa another glance. It was then that he was able to steal another gaze at her, awed by how her soft curls bounced when her head turned. The moment she looked in his direction he slyly turned back to the window, noticing an unfamiliar black car pull up into the parking lot. Considering the poor pay of every educator here, there was no way anyone could afford to maintain such brand new vehicle. It stood out amongst the beaten down mobile garbage surrounding it in the parking lot. He watched carefully as the driver side door opened and a man, about his age in a leather jacket stepped out. With just one stare he could tell that they wouldn’t get along, not that he got along with anyone other than Park Shinhye anyway.

When the new kid entered the school and left his line of vision, he closed his eyes to enjoy the silence of the nearly empty classroom. There was no Hyomin here to ramble on and on about wanting to go to the beach. There was nothing more annoying to him than the sound of her voice; to him it seemed like she tried to act too cute than she was and it honestly wasn’t working out too well for her—all the more reason to hate coming here every morning.

            By the time he opened his eyes again, the class was nearly full of students, rambling on about how much trouble they got into over the summer and how surprised they were that they never got ticketed or fined for the things they did. This wasn’t the environment he fit into and he knew that somewhere along the lines heaven had made a mistake in placing him, and even Shinhye in such a low key school, but he knew of nothing to justify that he deserved better. It was just a gut feeling that nudged at him every now and then. He glanced over at Shinhye for the third time today, noticing the empty seat beside her. His mind was yelling at him to move and sit next to her, but there was something about the window seat that kept him glued to his chair. In just minutes, he realized why his instincts were pleading him to switch seats. The new kid he saw earlier getting out of his car walked in, chin held high like he was some sort of saint as he made his way to the one empty seat beside Shinhye, not sparing the class any introductions. It was as if he felt he was mighty enough for people to know who he was without an introduction.

            “Tch, narcissist,” Yonghwa mumbled, seeing a faint smile grow on Shinhye’s lips the moment he sat down. They started a conversation with each other immediately, but he was too far to catch all the words. What he heard for sure without a shadow of a doubt was his name—Kang Minhyuk. The sound of it drifting through his mind sent chills down his spine, and he couldn’t help but just hate him. 

A/N: I hope this chapter was able to grab a bit more interest even though nothing much really happened! Don't worry guys I have a really exciting plot all planned out (on paper!). Updating this may take a while since I'm doing this on the side with school (senior year of HS) so I hope you all can be patient and bear with me!