“They don’t pay me enough for this.”

Yoochun lifted his head, his eyebrows raising as he stared at the receptionist (who had introduced himself as “Shindong — and that’s the only ing time I’m saying it”). “I’m sorry?”

“I said, they don’t pay me enough for this.” Shindong glared, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m the receptionist. I sit at the reception, and I talk to all the little twerps, and the parents of those little twerps — I do not give guided tours around the school.”

“But you’re just taking us to the main hall,” Yoochun replied, a hint of protest in his voice. He generally had very good patience, which was the only reason he hadn’t told the other male to off (also, the extremely young looking man - or was boy a better word? - standing next to him made him wary of any vulgar language — despite the male stating that he was a new teacher, he barely looked old enough to be out of highschool).

“Just? Just?!” Shindong snorted. “Oh, I’m glad you reduce all my hard work to nothing. That’s all it is to you, isn’t it? You’re some big-shot teacher, and I’m just the bloody receptionist.”

Yoochun frowned. “Uh, well, I don’t think ‘big-shot teacher’ is the right description…I’m Park Yoochun.”

Shindong’s scowl deepened. “Don’t ing care,” he shot back.

The young looking man/boy looked uncomfortable. “Are you supposed to be talking like that?” he asked.

Shindong whirled around to face him. “You see any students around?” he spat. “Other than you. How old are you anyway? You sure you aren’t with the wrong lot? The new students are lining up that way.”

“I’m the new arts teacher,” the man/boy replied. “Lee Taemin.”

“Oh ing brilliant. Key has a new friend,” Shindong snorted. Taemin frowned, and shuffled uncomfortably.

“Who?” Yoochun inquired.

“Kim Kibum,” Shindong replied, with a hint of hostility in his voice. “Prissy little , and — up until now — our only art teacher. God I hate this school.”

The receptionist folded his arms across his chest and studied them. His brow creased.

“Isn’t there supposed to be another one of you?” he questioned.

Both Yoochun and Taemin shrugged.

…

“, , !” Kyuhyun cursed as he dashed down the street. “Dammit, I am going to be so ing late…”

His phone began to ring. With another string of curses, Kyuhyun rummaged within his book bag and pulled it out. A pen fell out of the bag and rolled to the floor; Kyuhyun briefly considered picking it up, but brushed off the thought; he could buy twenty more pens as long as he didn’t lose this job.

“What?” he asked, holding the phone to his ear.

“Kyu?” His mother’s voice met his ears. “How was the introductory assembly? Remember to say hi to Leeteuk for me.”

“Umma, I’m not even there yet,” Kyuhyun replied, struggling to catch his breath.

“What?!” his mother yelled. Kyuhyun winced at the volume. “I told you to get there early! Oh, I just knew this would happen…”

“Umma, would you calm down?!” Kyuhyun snapped. “I’m nearly there. It’ll be fine.”

“Leeteuk was so nice to get this job for you, Kyuhyun, and I swear, if you blow it — ”

‘Great to know you have so much confidence in me,’ Kyuhyun thought bitterly. “Oh — umma, look, my phone’s cutting off!” he exclaimed. “Oh crap, can you hear that buzzing?”

“What buzzing?” his mother demanded. “You’re making this up! Cho Kyuhyun, don’t you dare hang up on me — ”

Kyuhyun turned the phone off, and shoved it back into his back.

“For God’s sake,” he muttered.

…

Students were loud. His years of being a teacher had taught him that fact. For Changmin, however, the real issue wasn’t the buzz of excited student voices — no, it was the two males sitting on either side of him.

“So Jaejoong,” Yunho said, trying to lean over Changmin, in order to gain a better view of the man in question, “how have you been lately?”

Jaejoong looked straight ahead, his expression blank. “Minnie, did you get the lunch I left in your office?” he inquired, ignoring Yunho’s question completely.

“Yes hyung,” Changmin replied promptly. He shot an annoyed glance at Yunho, who had pressed up against him in his efforts to get closer to Jaejoong.

“Oh, you made him lunch?” Yunho questioned, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant. “That was nice of you.”

“Changmin, tell him I always make you lunch,” Jaejoong said, unblinking.

“Hyung, he can hear you,” Changmin sighed.

“Yes, I know you do,” Yunho told Jaejoong. “Except that was before — ”

“Changmin, tell him it’s his balls I want to rip off and set fire to, not yours.”

“Hyung!” Changmin yelped, flushing. “There are students around — you can’t say things like that.”

Jaejoong shrugged, unbothered.

“Oh geez…” Minho, who was sitting behind Changmin, shook his head.

Changmin shot him a glare. “Do not say anything,” he hissed. “It’s bad enough as it is.”

“I can hear you,” Yunho told him.

Changmin shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

“These things just drag on, don’t they?” Junsu asked, pouting. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable after being in the same position for so long. Minho — who was seated next to him — shifted over to give him more space. “How long before we can leave?”

“The assembly hasn’t even started yet,” Minho pointed out.

“Wait, I see Leeteuk coming up,” Changmin said, nodding to the stage. Leeteuk — the principal — was making his way up the steps. “It should start — hyung, would you stop?!”

Yunho moved away, shooting his dongsaeng a sheepish glance.

…

“I’m here!” Kyuhyun yelled, throwing himself into the reception area. He could remember Leeteuk's firm orders — go to the reception (the word “early” had also been a part of that, but that possibility had already ended), and he’d be directed to the hall from there.

The room, however, was empty.

“Ah, ,” Kyuhyun cursed. “Now what?”

After all, there was no way in hell he was early. The fact that the room — along with the rest of the school — was completely devoid of life probably meant that the assembly had started.

With another curse, Kyuhyun turned around, and dashed in the opposite direction. How hard could it be to find his way around this place?

As he left the room, the large sign — “Welcome to SM!” — seemed to mock him. He opened the door, and it smacked against it, sending the board crashing to the ground.

Kyuhyun snorted, deciding to leave it where it was (it seemed somewhat appropriate).

…

“Right then!” Leeteuk said, beaming at the crowd of students and teachers. “I’m pleased to welcome you all to yet another year at SM! I am excited to see so many new faces joining our community — to all you new arrivals, I hope you come to love the school as much as everyone else — ”

“ that!” someone yelled from the audience.

Leeteuk’s eye twitched, but he continued on as if he hadn’t heard. “I’m also pleased to welcome three new staff members into our school I’d like to introduce them now, before we announce last year’s high achievers.”

“NERDS!”

Leeteuk’s hands clenched around the microphone. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” he laughed. “Now, uh, where were we? Oh yes! The new teachers!”

As he said this, Shindong walked onto stage, followed by Yoochun and Taemin.

Leeteuk frowned. “Uh, Shindong,” he said softly, lowering the microphone, “you don’t have to follow.”

“Oh I see how it is,” Shindong spat. “Throw me away as soon as you’re done with me.”

Leeteuk blinked. “No, that’s not — ” He stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing as he studied the group in front of him. “…Isn’t there anyone else?” he questioned.

“Hey, you told me to leave,” Shindong retorted “I know when I’m not wanted.” With those words, he whirled around (more than a little dramatically), and walked off stage.

Leeteuk stared. “Uh…” Remembering he was still on stage — and surrounded by numerous inquisitive students and teachers — Leeteuk let out an embarrassed laugh, and raised the microphone to his lips.

“So! This is Mr. Park, our new P.E teacher.” He gestured towards Yoochun, who smiled and lifted his hand. “And Mr. Lee, our new arts teacher.”

Taemin nodded, beaming.

“We, uh, also have a new member joining our I.T team, however, he hasn’t arrived yet…”

“He’s beautiful…” Minho murmured, staring at the stage with doe eyes.

“I know,” Junsu agreed, his eyes misted over. “Just look at those bulging muscles…”

“Not him,” Minho replied. “The feminine one. Mr. Lee.”

“Him?” Junsu cocked his head to the side, and then shook his head. “Nah, he’s too feminine for my tastes. Mr. Park though…”

“Does anyone know their actual names?” Changmin questioned, amused.

“Forget Mr. Park,” Minho said, ignoring Changmin’s inquiry, “it’s Mr. Lee all the way. Wow…I think I’m in love.”

Changmin quirked one eyebrow. “A bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?”

“Love is for tards.”

A few students turned to stare at Jaejoong.

“Jae, come on,” Yunho sighed, embarrassed my the other male’s comment. “I said I was sorry.”

“ off, ex-husband,” Jaejoong growled.

“We’re still married.”

“Until I file those divorce papers.”

Changmin sighed. He turned to Minho and Junsu, choosing to ignore the bickering pair on either side of him. “You guys are being ridiculous,” he told them.

Minho opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, the doors of the Hall burst open. A man came dashing inside, his eyes wide, his carry bag slamming against his side in large, jerking movements. He was clearly out of breath, panting heavily with each long stride.

“I’m here!” he yelled, running onto the stage. Leeteuk stood still, gaping at the man in shock (and with more than a little horror).

“Look, I made it!” the man laughed. “Hope I’m not too late — ” He yelped as he lost his balance, tumbling forward, and — to Changmin’s shock — slamming straight into Leeteuk. The principal let out a cry of alarm, and let go of the microphone. It hurtled through the air, landing directly on Key’s head.

“Oh my god, I cannot deal!” the art teacher shrieked.

“Sorry I’m late!” Kyuhyun cried, climbing off Leeteuk, and holding his hands up apologetically.

“Kyuhyun!” Leeteuk howled, clearly forgetting where he was.

Changmin sat up straighter.