Kang Seulgi had never really cared too much about life, much less school.

School . Big time.

Lame adults who thought they knew better yakked away about meaningless topics that only interested themselves, and religiously preached morals and values they seldom practiced.

Students were made to put on useless, uncomfortable straitjacket-like things called uniforms, and forced to sit through all that rubbish while their behavior and conduct were closely scrutinized.

The education system was a huge success in the manufacturing of a bunch of brain-dead robots with flawless memorizing and regurgitation skills. That was as much as Seulgi would give them. And anybody who said that school was a sanctuary that nurtured young minds and talents, and helped them pave a way for a bright future was giving them way too much credit, unless that bright future meant clambering through life like a sheep amongst a flock of billions heading for the same slaughterhouse.

To her, school was as good as prison. Except the food was not free.

Seriously, how did parents find it in themselves to sign their beloved kids up for something as insane as that?

The answer had always escaped Seulgi, who was now swearing off with a toothbrush lodged between her lips because the incessant beeping of her alarm clock had forced her out of her warm and comfortable bed.

What the hell was she doing up at six in the morning?

School.

Why?

Because following her parents’ every instruction was the safest bet that she would still have a roof over her head and not have to worry about begging for meals on the street.

It was a good deal to her. Not necessarily a fair one, but good enough.

After freshening up, she started throwing layers of clothing over her body, wondering why a freaking blazer was even necessary. The attire looked awful and preppy enough without it anyway.

As soon as she was done dressing up, she ambled her way into the kitchen with her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, cursing when she picked up the cereal box to find it depressingly light and so very empty. She scribbled a quick note and held it in place on the refrigerator with a magnet.

Y U NO RESTOCK SEULGI’S FAVORITE CEREAL?!

Left without any better option, she pulled out a slice of suspicious-looking, probably month-old bread – which could very well pass off as cardboard – from a bag, clamped it between her teeth, and proceeded to put on her socks and shoes before heading out the door.

Her bus had arrived at the stop when she was several meters away. A couple of students wearing the same uniform, supposedly from the same school zipped past her, mumbling something about being late.

“Dumb geeks,” she scoffed and took her own sweet time.

Kang Seulgi was not one who enjoyed making herself all panicky and breathless for things she thought meaningless, and school sat at the very top of that list of pointless things.

She found the bus ride to school unusually gratifying that day, however, because a quick time check revealed that she was actually going to make it on time. It was something that only happened once in a very blue moon, and it meant no detention – or rather – no extra hours of detention.

Hopping off the bus, she whistled a random tune and strolled her way past the school gates, inwardly giving herself a big high-five. She had barely taken five steps when she heard somebody call out.

“Kang Seulgi!”

Cue dramatic thunder, earthquakes, and all disasters of the wretched world.

Seulgi knew exactly who it was by that voice. She would recognize it in any crowd. That downright annoying, sickeningly sweet voice that oftentimes made her wish her ears were made of cloth so she could be spared from ever hearing it again.

She halted in her tracks, simply refusing to turn around.

Footsteps hurried towards her and she soon felt a firm finger poking her in the shoulder impatiently. “Yah, Kang Seulgi.”

“What?” She answered through gritted teeth, back still facing the owner of the voice, her patience already starting to wear away.

“You’re late.”

Needless to say, it was an utterly ridiculous accusation. But it succeeded in making her turn around.

As expected – a petite