Jongin and Sehun are at Caffe Creme, another establishment nestled between the library and a book store. The perfect location to scope out new students to tutor. The two have not seen the Daegu tutors since Sunday, when Suyeon stormed out of Caffe Benne.

Sehun and Jongin are a tad curious as to where the girls went. But they don’t really care. Their eyes are on the prize of victory.

Sehun and Jongin are explaining the quadratic formula to a group of dreamy-eyed girls when the cafe’s doorbell chimes. They glance upwards dismissively- and immediately double-take.

Suyeon and Mirae are striding into the cafe, carrying Vera Bradley bags full of school supplies and tutoring materials. But that is not what causes Jongin and Sehun’s jaws to drop.

It must be Transformation Tuesday, because the girls look smoking hot.

Mirae’s hair has been straightened, her bangs unclipped from their usual spot on the top of her head. Silver eyeliner has been applied on her waterline, giving her eyes the impression that they are glowing. Oversized black glasses frame her face, and an adorable floral skirt and sailor top accentuate her petite body.

“The cute type,” Sehun murmurs.

Suyeon, on the other hand, has taken a completely different approach. She is wearing tiny acid washed shorts and a tight tank top that leave a sliver of creamy skin visible at her midriff. Suyeon’s hair has been taken out of its usual plait. Instead, it is cascading past her waist in a luscious mane.

“The y type,” Jongin notes in astonishment.  

Suyeon has not felt this uncomfortable since Mr. Lee mistook her for his wife on the first day of school. What is this skimpy outfit that those cheerleaders squeezed her into? “You look so hot,” Hye Rim squealed, rolling a tube of lipstick over Suyeon’s lips. “You should dress like this every day.

Suyeon squirms under the looks the people in the cafe are giving her: envious, admiring looks from girls, and awe-struck stares from guys. She spots a group of teenagers in the corner looking her over with hungry expressions on their faces and swallows.

The only person who is not gaping at her is Sehun. Suyeon tilts her head just the slightest. Sehun’s eyes are narrowed as he takes her in. However, he is not looking at her in a lecherous way; in fact, Suyeon recognizes the expression in his eyes- she has worn it plenty times.

Sehun is analyzing her. Trying to figure out the strategy she is trying to play. Formulate a response.

For a spoiled, rich kid, I will admit he is smart, Suyeon notes.

“Well, well, well,” Mirae bounces over to Sehun and Jongin, who still haven’t closed their mouths. “Look who we have here.”

“Uh,” Jongin says. He blinks, quickly snapping out of his reverie. “Well. I see you’ve cleaned up. What are you trying to pull?”

Sehun smirks. “Trying to beat us at our own game, hm? Your plan is so transparent.”

“It may be transparent, but it has a high rate of success,” Suyeon says coldly, stepping out from behind Mirae. Sehun’s eyes snap to her. The condescending laughter in his expression disappears as he focuses an emotionless, reptilian gaze on her. Suyeon looks straight back at him with equal strength in her eyes.

“Really? Says who?” Sehun asks softly.

Jongin is staring at his friend with an odd look on his face. Is it just him, or is Sehun acting strangely around this girl? A sneaky glance at that repulsive Mirae girl reveals that she possesses similar thoughts about her fellow tutor.

Suyeon quirks up her eyebrows. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, Oh Sehun.” She slides past him, her hip brushing his side. Her heart pounds in . How the hell did I gain this newfound confidence? Suyeon asks herself.

I’ll just go with it.

“Hello,” Suyeon twiddles her fingers, popping her eyebrows up. “I’m Suyeon.”

Mirae grins cheekily. “And I’m Mirae!”

“If you’re looking for a tutor, look no further. Mirae and I are extremely well-versed, possessing knowledge on a wide variety of topics. So if you’re looking for that A grade...,” Suyeon her lips. “We’re here to help you.”

“Sign me up!” a chubby, pimped adolescent boy squeals, rushing over to Suyeon’s side. In the next moment, the Daegu tutors are barraged with a stream of customers. Mirae has never seen this many bills of money thrown at her before. She kind of feels like a stripper. Except more aegyo. An aegyo stripper? Hmm.

“I’m really sorry, Jongin,” a girl apologizes to the handsome teenager. “But I think they know more about, like, other stuff too. Like girly stuff. Makeup tips and how to get guys. And I kinda wanna know that too... so can we cancel?”

“Argh!” Jongin shouts, banging his head against the wall. “What the hell?” Mirae throws him a triumphant grin, holding up a heart with two hands.

“Have fun,” she mouths, giggling. Jongin swears to god he’s going to explode at any second.

“Every customer’s taken,” Sehun informs his friend in a dry voice. “Looks like we’ll have to admit defeat this time.”

Jongin gapes at Sehun in shock. “Hell no! We can’t do that!”

“Calm yourself,” Sehun scoffs. “It’s only Tuesday. We have until Saturday till the bet terminates.” He stares at Suyeon as she flips her hair and pulls a blue notebook out of her bag. When she crosses her legs, his breath catches.

“Why do you keep staring at that public school girl?” Jongin grunts, following Sehun’s line of vision. “There was this weird tension between you two. Do you really like a poor girl?”

“I don’t like her,” Sehun responds monotonously. “There’s a difference between liking someone and thinking they’re hot.”

    But Sehun senses there is something more lying underneath his attraction. Something about Suyeon, the way she carries herself, the manner in which she examines people and knows people and can perfectly execute strategies, as seen by today.

If Sehun didn’t know better, he would say it was admiration.

Sehun was not born into the elite life of the rich. In fact, he used to live in a suburban two-story with his loving parents. He went to public school for the 1st and 2nd grade.

That was before his mother was hired as a financial analyst for Goldman Whiting, a foreign investment firm which specialized in aiding brokers in their activities. The next thing Sehun knew his family was moving to the rich part of town, into an enormous penthouse. Sehun used to count the number of tinted silver windows on the entire south face of the high-rise building he lived in. He got to 134 before he gave up.

Sehun and his family were into the cutthroat world of socialites, novices at how to make idle conversation and conduct oneselves at parties and indirectly brag about their wealth. Pairs of hawkish, patronizing eyes stared down at Sehun over plastic noses.

“You’re in second grade, right?” one man asked him at a banquet once. “Can you afford the lunch at Daewon Preparatory? Or are you too used to cheaper snack food?”

“It was just an honest question,” the man protested when Sehun’s father angrily confronted him. “Really. I don’t know how poor people live.”

The Ohs left the banquet that night in a state of humiliation and embarrassment. Ever since that day, Sehun swore to never be caught off-guard by these rich bastards, to be on the receiving end of an insult that he did not know how to retaliate to.

He practiced speaking to himself in the mirror, practiced engaging in shallow conversation and making shallow remarks and giving shallow compliments to his wealthy neighbors and peers.

Sehun researched people. Learned about what they did and what they were interested in so that he would have something to talk about with them.

He took on a new personality. A personality people would praise and admire.

The next time he saw that man at a party, Sehun coolly inquired about a lawsuit the man’s medical practice was facing and forced the man to flee to the bathroom in tears.

When did I become so jaded?, Sehun asked himself once. He was at a golf tournament, sitting next to the son of a prestigious artist, an esteemed CEO, and the daugher of a multimillion dollar actress.

When did I forget what my favorite things to do were?, he wondered as he sat the Ambassador’s box of an opera house, peering through an embossed pair of gold opera-glasses.

When did I stop caring?, he wondered as he an entire bottle of Merlot off some woman's body in some loud club in some place which he didn't even know.

It unsettles Sehun how he can see himself in Suyeon’s eyes. Fierce. Unwilling to yield to people of a higher social status than her. Melding herself like hot iron into a new shape to fit the expectations and desires of others. The first time Sehun saw Suyeon, he was struck by the look in her eyes. He knew that look.

Suyeon was analyzing him. Trying to figure out the strategy he was trying to play. Formulating a response.

Watching Suyeon is like looking back in time.

But Sehun cannot yield to her.

“Sorry, Suyeon,” Sehun utters under his breath, watching Suyeon tip back her head and laugh with a student. “I’ve had more practice than you have. Don’t even dream of beating me.”

Jongin is stomping towards the door of Caffe Creme, grumbling and grousing and ready to get the hell out of there. Suddenly, his foot lands on something slippery. Jongin stumbles, flailing about wildly. At the last minute he catches himself from falling.

“What the hell?” he mutters, glancing down at the floor. A plastic orange cylinder lies on the tile of the cafe, filled with white pills. Jongin’s eyes widen. A medication bottle. His eyes dart across its label.

Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor, small print reads. Prescribed for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.   

A/N: Jeez Sehun... lol I loved writing the interaction between Suyeon and Sehun. so much lmao

Yeahhh their drama is just starting...

AND OH GOD MIRAE DROPPED HER OCD MEDICATION AND JONGIN FOUND IT