Fifteen pairs of feet stomped on the ground, a routine aerobic that the kids enjoyed —well, excluding a pair as Jongdae remained seated with a bandaged ankle on his left.

He didn’t blame anyone. It wasn’t his fault to be treated this way. All he wanted was to play with the boy with rounded cheeks. He was so bubbly that Jongdae wished he could eat him like a gum, but the eyes of the cheeky boy tell him otherwise.

Sharp and narrowed every time it meets Jongdae’s. Jongdae gulped and wondered, what did he do to receive such treatment?

And here he was slumped on the grass a few days ago, a hard game of football. The boy pushed him harshly and risked him an almost fractured bone.

There wouldn’t be any words of sorry, just Minseok and his smug smile across his lips.

Kim Minseok treated him like a piece of garbage. No, the worst —Minseok treated him like nothing, invisible and unknown.

Since then, Jongdae feared the day to meet the boy. Kim Minseok is practically an angel around the neighborhoods, parents wanting kids like him and the kids wanting friends like him. Jongdae used to have that feeling too.

He sighed on the cemented ground, shutting his ears off his atmosphere. He stared at the bandage, hated the fact that he had to sit down and rest when all he wanted was a great time with the others. Given that physical class is his favorite thing.

Jongdae hang his head low, chin pressed on his palm, which the elbow is propped lazily on his thigh. For a ten year old, he sighed like a working man with overdue reports.

“Ow!” Jongdae swept his head up, looking immediately for the cause of his head pain.

Beneath his feet —dangerously close to the injured ones— is a rounded plastic ball. Who could’ve hit him? Moreover, what kind of brat would hit an injured person?

“Oi. Give me back the ball!” a boy approach him, Jongdae’s head still throbbing to even muster the sight before him. “You have the guts to sit here and do nothing?” the boy’s voice was soft, but there is still a bite of anger in it.

Jongdae cast his head up, brows furrowed and immediately relaxed as Kim Minseok stood before him. His lips quirked into a smug smile yet his eyes glowered at the handicapped boy with full hate.

What did I ever do to you?

Before Jongdae could bend and grab the ball, Minseok harshly took it and pushed him, making him stumble backward helplessly.

“Lay there and be useless.”

How could you be so mean?

Jongdae thought it was the end of ‘mean kid’ phase. His life would’ve been perfect if there are no more of it. Oh, he was truly wrong.

Unfortunately, Minseok was living in the parameters of his neighborhood so it is not news that the angel boy went into the same middle school with him. Jongdae figured it was best to avoid any form of contact —be it walking the same hallway or even eating at a close table from Minseok’s.

It went well for a couple of weeks.

Weeks of finally claiming his peace until they met again. But this time, Jongdae was the one whose legs hoisted up and ball up in the air, finding it momentum to land on Minseok’s head.

He was ten years old all over again, seeing that Minseok glared at him with the same hatred in his eyes.

“You’re so screwed.” One of his team whispered.

“Minseok is no joke. Heard that he earn a black belt when he’s twelve.” More murmurs from them.

A close friend of his, Minho, whispered “Good luck, Jongdae.”

Minseok approached him with normal pace, but face red from either the hurt on the back of his head or the shame of people’s eyes boring on him. People started to murmur loudly, team members scattering away because Minseok now walk towards Jongdae with fire radiating from his body.

For an angel that he was claimed for, Minseok is the exact copy of a devil in a mask.

Lies in his hand is the ball, clutched harshly from the teenager’s grip. “Is this yours?” Minseok asked in a monotone.

“N-No.” Jongdae wanted to kick himself for stammering.

How could anyone be so intimidated by Minseok? They’re of the same height and build. What differ is that Minseok have the upper hand in terms of martial arts and he was older. Which in this case makes him the superior one.

“I hope you’d play more… carefully.” Sarcasm rolled all over Minseok’s words. “You don’t want to hurt your ankle again.”

Jongdae honestly felt his core boiling. After Minseok mentally bullied him, he couldn’t accept that. “I felt sorry, you know. You could’ve had eyes at the back of your head.”

Minseok gaped by Jongdae’s sharp response. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m sorry that you’re so blind to see a ball coming for your head.”

Jongdae felt proud, squaring his shoulder so he could take the upper hand now. His lifted chin went downwards as Minseok’s eyes narrowed, lips stretched into a thin line with a disapproving look.

“I didn’t know juniors can be so rude.” The senior gritted. “Where are your manners, useless?”

And that was it. Jongdae plunged forwards, fingers curling on Minseok neck and putting all his weight on the teenager. They both collapsed on the grass, Minseok beneath him. There were sounds of students circling them upon the scene, Jongdae was so close to snapping Minseok’s neck in two.

“The name is Jongdae, you !” he yelled, grips so strong that Minseok was gasping. A ing black belt my —

Within seconds, he was turned and lay on his back. Minseok punched him directly on his jaw and nose, another came on the other side of his face. Jongdae was beaten to a pulp as blood seeped out of the corner of his lips. His nose was cast for one whole month to get properly healed.

Teachers pulled them apart that moment, Jongdae thrashing wildly from the restrain while Minseok was asked if he was doing alright.

It was unfair. Minseok trigger it, yet he didn’t get any action. Jongdae was thrown into detention class and voluntary work while the other undergoes school as usual.

Not only that, his parents scolded him for ruining the so-called angel’s reputation. Because apparently a small cut on the side of Minseok’s cheek is a big crime.

Jongdae never felt the strong desire to hate someone so much.

“High school, huh?” Minho smiled. Jongdae nodded absent mindedly, oblivion to how fast time passed by. The only thing he anticipate is the last few weeks of his class. He looked forward to the independent days, getting wasted and lazy.

“Yeah. It’s like pooping.”

Minho wrinkled his nose. “Because it’s hard to let go?”

“No.” Jongdae rolled his eyes. “You know this -hole school.” Honestly, throughout his school year, it's never been a good one. Hence, Jongdae’s whole attitude to the end of his school days is quite overwhelming.

Plus, Minseok attend the same school too.

“Like a stubborn sticking to your .” Jongdae muttered, more to himself. Minho laughed, throwing his head back and smack Jongdae’s back hard.

“Dude, you’re taking the depression to another level.”

Jongdae leaned back, facing Minho. “Damn, I hate that stupid Minseok guy.”

Minho laughed again. This wasn’t the first time he declared the hate, instead, he mentioned it every day. Jongdae pretty much hated the fact that Minseok is shoving his face every now and then. There are numerous events that caused it.

Kim Minseok bullied him since the childish fight during middle school. Yet, no one bats an eye because Jongdae ing deserve the ‘education’.

Acting unmannered towards a senior is a fair share to earn humiliation and back biting in his part.

“What did he do to you today, hmm?” Minho figured it was best to take out the frustration that contained in Jongdae. “Did he ruin your locker? Tear your notes apart?”

“No. Plum cheek er embarrassed me in front of Kyungsoo.” H