Chanyeol is stuck, and beyond feeling utter defeat and shame, he rests his head on his palms, his elbows digging into his bare thighs. Chanyeol has always been pretty unlucky—the idea of hotel tycoon was never really enough to make people realize his power. Everyone still look down on him, and adding insult to injury, everyone was practically laughing at him.

            It only takes a few more seconds of painful shame when a boy wearing a blue and white plaid polo top, hanging loosely over a white tee shirt. He’s wearing brown shorts, and Chanyeol doesn’t really understands his choice in footwear, but he’s not really up to dealing with anyone at the moment.

            “Are you Kris Wu?” says the boy, making him lift his head in distaste. “How dare you call me that—that’s the worst insult on earth.”

            The boy lifts an eyebrow, obviously confused.

            But that face quickly twists from an unpleasant smile to an instant glare of death.

            The next thing Chanyeol knows is a knuckle collides with his cheek.

            It all goes downhill from there.

            Baekhyun is ashamed—that’s for sure.

            He’s sitting by a bench right outside Seoul High’s clinic, his hands curling around his knees. He’s ashamed—well, that was an understatement—as the boy, unconscious, lying down on one of the clinic beds was most definitely not Kris Wu.

            Baekhyun is pouting, obviously trying to come up with statements to detain his guilt. He was most definitely Kris Wu, his description was the exact same.

            “What the hell are you doing?!” said one boy who seemed way to pretty to be a guy. He runs towards Chanyeol in petrification, quickly lugging a towel around the boy’s unconscious body. Baekhyun still has his fist out, throbbing in pain as he realized how hard he hit him.

            “You—you! You just hit Grand Hotel’s president, you—“

            Baekhyun doesn’t really understand anything, but he’s quickly dragged by two other people. “Fix him.”

            Baekhyun looks at the pathetic looking boy and sighs. He takes out the vial that immediately retracts the adhesive and poured it on Kris Wu’s body, which the bench sets free.

            And now he’s here, being held captive in Seoul High.

            How unfortunate.

            “He’s from Seoul U.” He hears one of the boys who had dragged him with them earlier. “There’s no doubt.”

            Baekhyun’s face lowers—if they recognize him as the student council president of the prestigious school across the road, he’s done for.

            He hears padded footsteps approach his very solemn looking bench, halting when the feet firmly plant themselves in front of him. He’s not looking at whoever it is—this was the worst situation to be in.

            “You—you have to take responsibility.” Says the voice, tapping his foot as he looked at Baekhyun in shame. “Chanyeol is out cold because of you—“

            When Baekhyun hears the name, he immediately whips his head forward. “Wait—did you say, Chanyeol?”

            The pretty boy nods, his arms folded over his chest. “Grand Hotel’s president, Park Chanyeol.”

            Baekhyun swallows, he’s been duped.

            “Wasn’t he… Kris Wu?”

            The pretty boy rolls his eyes, obviously not taking his time to comprehend what Baekhyun was saying. “He’s Park Chanyeol, you .”

            Baekhyun swallows again—so that Chanyeol, the Chanyeol he met during the locker prank, was most indefinitely Kris Wu.

            “.” Baekhyun says with a sigh as he takes off his hat, balancing it on top of his thighs. He has made a mistake, and is probably going to pay for it sooner or later. “What can I do…?”

            “Well, for starters, you’re going to make sure that Park Chanyeol wakes up.” The pretty boy remarks as he jerks his thumb towards the clinic door. “You’re from Seoul U, aren’t you?”

            Baekhyun knew the jug was up, they knew anyway. “Yeah, I am.”

            “Name?” The boy impatiently taps his foot against the pavement, squinting as he waited for Baekhyun to fess up.

            “Byun… Baekhyun.” He sighs, ducking down even further.

            “What—that Byun Baekhyun?” The boy scowls, obviously not impressed. “You’re the student council president of Seoul U, aren’t you?”

            Baekhyun sighs. “Yeah.”

            The pretty boy laughs in frustration, way too pissed for comfort. He squats so that he’s in the same level of Baekhyun’s sight, making sure that the guilty boy was close enough to hear him.

            “I’m Luhan, and I’m a general manager in training at Grand Hotel. That Park Chanyeol is my boss, and the only reason why I’m pissed beyond belief is that the fact that Chanyeol barely shows up for work—much less him being unconscious is the worst case scenario at the very moment.”

            Baekhyun gulps—he knew Seoul High had a bunch of important people studying in it, but he was ready to risk that. “W—What can I do?”

            Luhan rolls his eyes, sitting up from his squat. “We have no choice but to report you to your school. Both parties will get involved—the Park family and Grand Hotel staff will severely punish you. Expect your life to be a living hell from today on.”

            Baekhyun knows—his life and career, is over.

            “Mom—Kyungsoo—stop—I’ll be fine.” Baekhyun says as he tries to wriggle free from the grasp of the overly attached woman and equally overly attached little boy. Worse came to worse, Baekhyun was expelled from Seoul U. Very efficiently speaking, he was asked to step down from the office, making Sehun, the current Vice-President, the immediate man to office. (Much to Junmyeon’s distaste).

            “But—you might be skinned alive in there.” Kyungsoo says with tears in his eyes, obviously guilty that the only reason why Baekhyun was standing in the street across his old school was because of his own selfishness.

            Kyungsoo is crying, and Baekhyun knew that the moment he got reported in the principals office the next day, that the entire school knew.

            Baekhyun was a refugee, and Seoul High was his very ironic refugee camp.

            “Mom, really, I could have went to provincial schools. Or other private schools—you really didn’t need to scrape up the last of your inheritance money to send me here.” Baekhyun says as he clutches his suitcase in his hand.

            His mom is crying too—and much to Baekhyun surprise, wasn’t entirely mad when she found out what Baekhyun did. Grand Hotel sapped my bank account from that two-night stay in Jeju for a conference, that kid deserves all the pain.

            “I’m going to miss you so much—you take care of yourself yeah?” His mom remarks, fixing the casual clothes Baekhyun was sporting. It pains for Baekhyun to admit it, but being in casual clothes made him feel .

            “Oh baby, do you miss your uniform?” His mom coos, rubbing Baekhyun’s head as she tried to fix the necktie wrapped around his neck. “I made sure that all your clothes seemed exactly like the uniform back at Seoul U, I know how much you loved it.”

            Baekhyun nods, feeling grateful, as he had recalled his suitcase. It was filled to the brim with blazers in all colors, all within similarity of the Seoul U uniform.

            But it’ll never be the same.

            “Thanks mom, you really didn’t have to.” Baekhyun sighs as he fixes his very stiff looking yellow blazer. Today wasn’t as special as the day he got accepted into Seoul U, but he had to look as if he wasn’t defeated.

            Today, he is still the winner.

            “Always call, okay? I’ll understand if you were busy, but always contact me.” Kyungsoo says as he pats Baekhyun’s arm, Baekhyun long longing for the original Seoul U blazer Kyungsoo was still wearing.

            They say their final goodbyes, and Baekhyun is left to face the battlefield alone.

            Today, he goes to war.

            “Yeol—that kid’s starting class today. Luhan says as he leans against his desk, eyeing Chanyeol as he sat on the windowsill. Chanyeol had regained consciousness not long ago, and was ultimately awake with boiling anger.

            No one punches Park Chanyeol, hotel tycoon.

            No one.

            His bruised cheek throbs and he immediately shoots his hand up to cup it, breaking the cool image he had very well established.

            Everyone was talking about the kid—Byun Baekhyun—enrolling from Seoul U to Seoul High, an obvious upgrade. He should be thankful that he even made it past admissions, and seeing as he’s a problematic child with the money, he got in without a single scratch.

            Chanyeol hated the fact that he was going to have to face this kid, ruining the sanctity of the hallways. But as the very manly and adult man he is—he will definitely extract revenge.

            In the most posh, adult way possible.

            “Ah—there he is.”

            Chanyeol looses balance and immediately tilts his head towards the direction of the lone boy rolling his suitcase up the stairs of Seoul U, having an inexplicably hard time.

            “What—what on earth is he wearing?” Minseok says in distaste, obviously not digging the stiff business-man-in-yellow look. “He looks like a badly cooked scrambled egg.”

            Chanyeol only chuckles, obviously disgusted by the boy’s—Byun Baekhyun’s—appearance. He was setting foot in his turf, and the boy will have to do a lot more than to have a big brain in his territory.

            Byun Baekhyun was his.

            “Um, sorry?” Baekhyun asks as he tries to hear the woman across the desk clearly, clearly not catching on. “Who did you say my roommate was again?”

            “It was… Kris Wu.” The woman gives her a smile, handing the room papers to the baffled boy across the desk. “He’s out to China with his father on a business trip, so you wont be seeing him until next, next week. He had already previously agreed to let you room with him.”

            Baekhyun’s mouth is gaping open, and he knows that this Kris Wu was either that Chanyeol, or if he’s just a different person altogether.

            He really, doesn’t care anymore.

            “Thank you.” Baekhyun says with a sigh as he eyes the Seoul High brochure and welcome package in disgust. This was going to be his new rebel camp, and seeing Seoul U peak from behind the very expensive looking gates would make him long for his return even more.

            But he’s here now, and he has to deal with it.

            He’ll have to deal with Park Chanyeol sooner or later, too. But it.

            Baekhyun is going to make this turf. He’s not going without a fight, and being easily the smartest boy in this campus, he’s not going to break.

            He’s definitely not going to break.

            “Starting today, he will be your classmate.” Mr. Jang says in the most uninterested voice ever, his feet still planted on top of his desk. He has a book open on top of his head as he waves around a pointer stick. Baekhyun has his yellow blazer on, to which he looks pretty dapper, as he bows and introduces himself.

            There are no uniforms in this school, so a vomit of designer brands from here and there spread throughout the room. Back when Baekhyun was looking for a gift for his mom did he memorize the brands, each specific bag and blouse and their prices, their item codes and their properties.

            Louis Vuitton… Givenchy… Gucci… Comme des Garcon… MCM… Prada—these kids are something.

            “Hello… I’m Byun Baekhyun.” He says with a bow, trying to lessen the heavy atmosphere as much as possible. He knew that almost everyone on campus knew he was coming—as he spend the night searching up on his name, memorizing a bunch of the students he should avoid.

            Number one on that list was Park Chanyeol.

            To his dismay, was in the same class.

            He sighs as he feels the daggers Park Chanyeol was throwing him from the other end of the classroom. And there was that Luhan kid too. And Kris Wu.

            Great.

            “He looks like a kid’s afternoon drawing come to life.” Minseok says in distaste as they watch Byun Baekhyun make his way through the cafeteria for lunch. Park Chanyeol has his permanent scowl plastered on his face, obviously getting more irritated by the second.

            Chanyeol hated the color yellow the most.

            “Ah—he’s coming this way.”

            Chanyeol sits to attention, obviously not sure as to how he’s going to react to the boy who had elaborately pranked him. He’s not scared—why would he be scared?

            The boy is just a few feet away from their table, and he seems to be gathering enough confidence to bring his food tray towards them. He’s a few inches away, his face as blank as ever.

            “Hello.” Baekhyun mutters, his fingers digging into the tray.

            “Hi.” Chanyeol replies, not really sure if he was talking to him. “What brings you here today, Mr. Byun Baekhyun?”

            Baekhyun takes his glance towards Chanyeol, who had his feet up on the table. “I’m here to formally apologize, on you know, what I did.”

            Chanyeol smirks, leaning closer so that he could hear. “What—What was that? I didn’t hear it properly.”

            Baekhyun tries to hold in his frustration and makes his voice louder. “I’m sorry about punching you. I was actually planning on punching someone else but you fit the description nicely.” Baekhyun sighs as he waits for someone to stir.

            “Apology not accepted.” Chanyeol says with a triumphant smile, as if he was the alpha and this little omega was trying his best to woo his heart.

            That’s not going to happen.

            Ever.

            “It seems as if we have come to a rapture.”

            Kyungsoo has his regular club hood covering his head, in a circle with the rest of his club members, surrounded only by candlelight. “Club president Byun Baekhyun is no longer with us—we must find a new Leader.”

            The members are silent, obviously all eyeing the position. Baekhyun has been the club president for 2 years now, and in their final year, they honestly thought none of them would get a break. But here they are now, in the lowest area of Seoul High, which was their clubroom, the Erudites.

            “In order to maintain the secret society of smart people, the smartest kids in this entire school, we must crown the next in position. Now, did all of you bring what you were asked?”

            Everyone nods in unison, each person procuring a brown envelope. Kyungsoo leads the meeting as each person drops their respective brown envelopes in front of them, the candle light the only thing lighting up their view.

            “We will confirm whoever is the current smartest person on campus as usual—by current semester grade point average.”

            The atmosphere grows even darker—everyone assumes their grade point average is the highest until proven wrong.

            They were always proven wrong—as Baekhyun was the only person in school to get a perfect 4.0.

            Kyungsoo carefully unfolds each brown envelope—reading each one out loud as the number of envelopes decrease.

            “Junmyeon—3.831.”

            “Jongdae—3.92.”

            “Zitao—3.761—disappointing.”

            “Kyungsoo—“ he says his own name out loud. “—3.98.”

            Everyone else sighs in defeat, obviously coming to conclusion. “Well, it seems I will be the new president—“

            “—Sorry I’m late.” Sehun says as he peers from the door, spreading light into the dark room. Everyone covers their eyes in fear, like vampires taking into hiding in the lowest basement. “Oh Sehun, late again.”

            “Sorry.” Sehun says with his signature smile, the handsome and dependable man stretching out his hand to give Kyungsoo his envelope. “I had student council matters to attend to.”

            Kyungsoo keeps his face hard, taking Sehun’s report card into his hands. “This will no longer be tolerated further, take your seat.”

            Sehun smiles, pulling his hood over his head. “Sorry.”

            Kyungsoo removed the report card from the envelope, saying his name out loud. “Oh Sehun… 4.0.”

            Everyone in the room gasps—only Baekhyun has ever gotten the perfect GPA. And here comes Oh Sehun, taking the glory as he gives everyone his knowing smile.

            Baekhyun is reeling his suitcase into campus once again, trying to look for his dorm. He was glad that Kris was going to absent for the next two weeks, but he’s going to have to make himself pretty at home before the prospect of his expulsion comes into view. Baekhyun wont lie—Kris Wu right now is number one on his hit list. The thought of rooming with him for the next year is beyond him.

            He reaches the room—104—quickly turning his key into place as he really doesn’t want to catch sight of any other member of this school.

            He lugs his suitcase beside the only empty bed, lying down as soon as he his luggage hits the floor. Its been a long day, and really, the sudden transition from student council president of the most elite school in Seoul to your normal kick out is taking its toll on him.

            He’s not going to give up—he’s going to survive this school.

            Even if it takes getting on the nerves of a few rich kids.

            “What do you think we should do with him? Make his everyday life a living hell?” Chanyeol says with a chuckle as he peers over at his friends, all crumpled into his room for Thursday’s game night. It was a tradition to have everyone over on Thursdays in whoever has the latest game, and today Left for Dead 3 came out—with Jongin the first one to get the copy.

            “Crazy how you got the copy—it comes out tomorrow. Even my dad couldn’t get it for me.” Yixing says as his droopy eyes focus on the screen. He, Jongin, Luhan and Xiumin have their eyes completely glued to the flat screen TV, much to Chanyeol’s annoyance.

            “Hello? Am I the only one here who is more interested on ruining Byun Baekhyun’s life rather than killing zombies?”

            “Yeah—“ They all reply in unison.

            Chanyeol sighs, taking refuge in his phone. It was always like this—Chanyeol so bad at Co-Op games, thus being the odd one out. He scrolls through instagram on the usual, with a bunch of fashion and short covers splaying through his feed.

            His eyes slightly dart through each post, noting the good outfits and how he’s going to buy it first thing tomorrow.

            What catches Chanyeol’s attention the most, however, is the short song cover from the account that he fervently follows and updates himself with everyday. It’s not that Chanyeol was obsessed with the kid’s voice—the kid honestly has talent. It’s just that—no one knows who he is.

            Chanyeol plugs his earphones into his phone, allowing the cover to play. He spends the next few seconds drowning in the boy’s voice—as if butter rolling off perfectly toasted bread.

            Once the song ends, he sighs.

            Beautiful, as always.

            Baekhyun doesn’t understand why—but he most definitely did not expect to see Chanyeol_is_King to liked his latest cover. Nor did he know that Chanyeol_is_king has been following him for quite a while.

            He doesn’t really expect much when he opens the said account, lathered in endless selfies and very annoying pictures of food and the conventional Seoul sunset.

            He also doesn’t expect to see that Chanyeol_is_king has been favoriting all his posts since the beginning of who knows when—maybe even before the dinosaurs walked the earth. Because Baekhyun is too tired—far too tired to wonder if Park Chanyeol is serious.

            Baekhyun is going on with his normal dormitory routine. He was fresh from the shower and had just recorded another cover, since he often likes to record whenever his brain is far too crowded. He has a headband pushing back his hair from his forehead, realizing that his fringe has outgrown their purpose.

            “Just don’t mind it—he’s a fly. He has no articulate love for the classical art of music nor does he have enough brain cells to compare to even 0.0000000000001% of your brain. You are the winner—you will survive and you will definitely—crush Park Chanyeol.”

            He tones out his shoulders, letting them roll against his back. He is in his sanctuary, and he is calm. No matter how new the grounds of battle is, he is 100 percent ready to deal with whatever comes his way.

            The sound of the other room thumping and jeering, however, he was naught.

            Baekhyun’s eye twitches each time a Woooo!!!! And a the zombie, it’s behind you! Cover for me! comes into echo of the very spacious room. Even if he were to drown the noise out with Beethoven’s 5^th symphony, he’ll only shame the music.

            Far past 1 am, Baekhyun has his eyes completely cracked open, as the rowdiness next door still hasn’t died down. He sits up from his bed, slowly contemplating on which way he could silently murder the people next door.

            “Approximately 5 voices—1 shorter than me, 1 the same height and 3 that are taller.” Baekhyun says with his eyes clothes, imagining the resonance of each voice as compared to their voices, thumps and jeers.

            “Very familiar attributes.” He notes, his eyes still remained closed as the shouts still echo through his room. His neighbors aren’t really the good kind, and every single murder mystery and attempt ever recorded in history is buzzing through his mind. The real question is—which one is going to do.

            He sighs, deciding on just barging in and shutting them up with his very, very articulate and logical brain.

            He stands up, regular watermelon printed pajama button and now light green shirt is loosely hanging on his thin frame. He grabs his favorite gray sweater—one that says I may be Nitrogen, Erbium, Dysprosium but only Periodically in proactive pink. He’s ready to take on what’s across his wall, and is about to put a stop to it.

            “Where do you think Byun Baekhyun was assigned? Like, what room?” Chanyeol says as he rests his chin on Jongin’s manly pink pillow. They’re all in pajamas by this time, as it is a must to sleep in the host’s room even if they just live across each other. Jongin was rooming with Luhan, while Yixing was with Minseok, and Chanyeol alone in his own.

            “Why—did you want him to be assigned to yours?” Luhan joked, eyes still perfectly connected to the screen. “He must have been assigned to Kris’—, Jongin! How could you have jumped on the car, you alerted a ing mob!”

            Chanyeol rolls his eyes as each boy is sent into panic, firing guns randomly all over the place. “I don’t really play video games but I’m pretty sure you have to shoot the zombies, not the air.”

            “Shut up.” Jongin says with an annoyed expression, being the one at fault. “I didn’t see the ing car!”

            Just like that, the boys get lost in the game all over again. Chanyeol doesn’t pursue it any further, his eyes drowsy the longer he stared at the television.

            If only something fun were to happen to him, like for example; a video game that he’s actually good at, he literally won’t complain anymore.

            As if his prayers were answered, a knock was heard at the door.

            “Can you—ah , I got attacked by the witch, , , —get that?”

            Chanyeol eyes Luhan with distaste, but gets up anyway.

            His footsteps pad slightly against the carpeted floor, his large feet digging into the threads as he finally reaches the door. Elaborately locked, Chanyeol feels as if Seoul High was trying to trap them in their rooms, not protect them from whatever’s outside.

            As he finally unlocks the last door, he’s met face-to-face with a face that seemed way to funny at night than it was in any other part of the day.

            “Oh—.” Baekhyun sighs, his pillow tight against his chest. “My calculations were correct—not like they’re ever wrong but—sorry.” Baekhyun starts off, obviously not in the mood to argue with the giant standing across him.

            “I’ve got to get some rest since I officialy start classes tomorrow, so do you and your friends mind if you keep it down a bit? These zombies will most probably still be alive tomorrow and well.” Baekhyun says with a sleepy smile, his fringe still perfectly pushed back with his favorite yellow bandana.

            “What makes you think we’ll give way to you?”

            Baekhyun’s eyes slightly open from the two crescents that he had tried his best to muster up—even when the boy he showed it to did not deserve it at all. “Well, I’ll ask by the goodness of your heart if you could keep it down—“

            Chanyeol breaks into a laugh, not allowing Baekhyun to finish his statement. “You’re funny as hell, Byun Baekhyun. First, you prank my locker, then you prank me, then you hit me, you still think I’m going to have goodness in my heart for you?” Chanyeol slurs on each words as if they’re the funniest thing he’s ever said.

            “—or, we could deal with this the hard way.”

            Chanyeol an eyebrow, slightly folding his arms over his chest. “Oh? You challenging us to a duel, Byun Baekhyun?”

            Baekhyun sees the confidence in the boy’s eyes, and immediately drops his pillow, mimicking Chanyeol. He folds his arms over his chest, eyes squinting as if he agrees with Chanyeol’s statement. “Hell yeah, I am.”

            Chanyeol smirks, obviously way too interested in whatever Baekhyun has to offer. “What are you going to do—send brain waves that’ll emotionally hurt my brain?”

            Baekhyun shakes his head, as if he could do that. “No, I’m doing this.”

            He takes out a tazer and strikes Chanyeol in the stomach, who immediately falls to his knees.

            “That hurt, you piece of —“

            “—What’s going on over there?” Luhan asks with a rather concerned voice, quickly making his way from the room and to the door.

            “Hello there, Luhan?” Baekhyun asks with a smile, tazer still in hand. Luhan backs away slowly, seeing as Chanyeol was still fizzing with electricity.

            “I’ll be living next door from now. I understand that the owner’s of this room is you and Kim Jongin—“ he says as he points towards Luhan. “—and the room across my room is Kim Minseok’s and Zhang Yixing’s—“ he says as he points at the two boys who were now fully aware of Baekhyun’s presence, eyeing him in curiosity. “—and that the room to my right is Park Chanyeol’s.” He says as he jerks a thumb towards the seeminly dead body splayed across the carpeted floor.

            “You see—this is a taser. 100% hand made from scratch—all under 10 minutes.” Baekhyun says with a rather threatening voice. “I understand that all of you are either rich or famous or whatever—but please keep in mind that I am a genius who is willing to outsmart anyone who gets in my way.”

            Baekhyun keeps a straight face on, his hand still clutching the makeshift taser. “So if you have any further questions, complaints and or recommendations—please feel free to pass by my room.” He ends with his signature Novel Winning prize smile, tucking the taser into his pajama bottoms.

            “Oh—I modified the room a bit, so make sure that you avoid the 1^st, 2^nd and 4^th tile within northeast of the door—just a reminder.”

            Luhan gulps as Baekhyun takes his leave, closing the door behind him as the room was sent into silence.

            “Chanyeol thought he was going to serve Byun Baekhyun’s —but he looks pretty served to me.” Jongin says as he pokes Chanyeol’s body with the xbox controller.

            “Medium rare?” Minseok says with a chuckle, joining in.

            “More like well done.” Luhan whistles as he recalls Baekhyun’s intent. “Guess Chanyeol’s going to have a harder time dealing with Baekhyun than he thought.”

            Baekhyun feels particularly proud of what he had just accomplished.

            It was dominance.

            It wasn’t 100% in full effect, but it was there.

            “Chanyeol? Park Chanyeol?” Mr. Kim says with a frown as he watches Chanyeol put his head down with a groan just as soon as Baekhyun comes into his 5^th period Biology class.

            “No sleeping in my class.” Mr. Kim hisses as he swats Chanyeol on the back, the younger boy screeching in pain. “Ow—You’re dead meat—“

            “—No, cousin. I am not dead meat.” He says as he gives Chanyeol a squint, making sure that Chanyeol knows his place. “Now, Mr. Byun, I know it must be hard to be taking classes halfway through the school year, but judging as you are from Seoul U, I take it that you will catch up just fine?”

            Baekhyun nods, holding tightly to his backpack straps. He’s wearing a hot pink blazer this time, with his tight black slacks rubbing against his legs. “I will most definitely be fine, Sir.”

            “Great!” Mr. Kim says as he clasps his hands together, giving Baekhyun the most pleased look since the start of the school year. “Everyone must take Baekhyun as an example of good student-ship. Now if you will, please take the seat on the second row.

            Baekhyun makes his way down the aisle, ignoring the glares and stares coming from all over the classroom. His eyes remain straight ahead, watching his seat and scanning each person who’s sitting around him.

            “No one seems harmful, except—“

            Baekhyun rolls his eyes and twists his mouth into a unsatisfied and exasperated pout as soon as he sees Chanyeol just behind the seat. He already expects several kicks and turns coming from behind him, sighing as he places the backpack on the hook of his desk.

            It’s going to be a long school year.

[a/n] hello friends!!! how are all of you doing I hope you like the story so far please subscribe and comment if you like it and tell me what more you want to see in the future thanks zzzzz