The school corridors blurred past him, a relentless river of noise and movement, but Donghyuck barely noticed. His lungs burned, his heart thudded like a wild drum, and tears—hot, unrelenting—streamed down his sweat-soaked cheeks.

The west building, the north, now the east—he was chasing his own shattered trust across Seoul Lee Middle and High School’s sprawling halls. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, drenched in sweat, his black hair plastered to his forehead like a dark storm cloud.

“I fucking hate you, Leo!” His voice cracked and broke as he collapsed against the cool tile floor, knees folding under him. Tears blurred his vision. “You made me trust you, and then I see you kissing some other girl!”

The silence pressed down, heavy and cruel.

“Why does my life have to be like this?” His voice was a broken whisper, echoing through the empty hallway. “He promised he’d protect me. That he’d love me more than anyone else could.”

Then, a gentle hand slipped a tissue into his trembling palm.

His head lifted slowly, blurry eyes meeting a pair of concerned ones.

Mark Lee. The son of the principal. The older boy who seemed to carry a quiet gravity in his gaze.

His smooth tan skin caught the light, dark hair tousled just so—just enough to be charmingly imperfect. The crease between his brows softened with concern as he crouched beside Donghyuck.

“Are you okay?”

The tissue was warm in his hand, and Donghyuck swallowed, nodding weakly as he wiped at his cheeks.

“I’m Mark, if you don’t know yet...” The older boy’s voice was slightly awkward but earnest.

Donghyuck wiped the last tear away and managed a faint smile. “I may be a first year, but everyone knows you.” His voice still carried the weight of heartbreak. “I’m Donghyuck.”

Mark smirked, the corner of his lip sliding playfully. “Quite the character, aren’t you?”

Donghyuck shrugged, trying to mask the vulnerability. “I don’t really have strings on my tongue.”

“Witty, sassy, and savage, then.” Mark chuckled, clearly amused.

Donghyuck grinned despite himself. “Don’t worry, I can be nice too.”

Mark’s eyes twinkled with something unreadable. “Well, I can find that out after school... if you let me take you out?”

His heart did a sudden flip-flop, a stutter in the rhythm of his breath.

“I just found my boyfriend cheating...” The words caught in his throat, his gaze dropping as the painful image replayed in his mind. Tears pricked again at the corner of his eyes.

But Mark didn’t falter, his voice softening like a gentle promise.

“It’ll help take your mind off things. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can call it a hangout.”

Donghyuck hesitated, heart racing, breath uneven.

“First years finish earlier than us, so if you think it’d be good... wait for me under the cherry blossom tree. My class ends at 3 PM.”

A slow smile curved his lips—Mark’s patience was a balm to his frayed nerves.

“I’ll think about it... thank you.”

Mark chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks coloring slightly. “Oh, and... I never asked anyone out before, so sorry if I’m awkward.”

Donghyuck laughed softly, warmth blooming in his chest. “I’ll keep that in mind. I have to go, or I’ll be late for class.”

“Be safe.” Mark pointed his fingers like playful finger guns and ‘fired’ at him, a grin breaking wide across his face.

Donghyuck giggled as he walked away, glancing back. “You’re getting there, Canada.”

Mark stood watching until the younger’s silhouette disappeared down the hall, grinning like an idiot.

“Finally had the guts. Stupid Mark.” He muttered to himself, then hurried to class, already itching to tell Jeno.

---

Later that evening, Donghyuck stood in front of his mirror, hands running along the elegant lines of his outfit—crisp white shirt, tailored navy trousers that hugged just right, and a slim silver watch gleaming on his wrist. His jet-black hair was slicked back effortlessly, the faintest scent of cologne lingering in the air. He looked sharp.

But there was a softness too—an unspoken vulnerability in the way he nervously smoothed his collar.

What if this changes everything?

He smiled, a fragile hope warming his chest, and stepped out, locking his apartment door behind him.

---

Meanwhile, Mark fumbled with his tie in front of his closet, adrenaline and nerves prickling through his veins.

He pulled out a deep burgundy button-up, the fabric catching light and emphasizing his toned shoulders. Dark jeans hugged his legs just right—casual, but effortlessly hot. He brushed a hand through his hair, breath hitching as he faced his reflection.

“Okay, Mark,” he whispered, voice steadying with determination. “It’s your last chance to win him back. You can do this.”

He ran through his house, gathering essentials with a jittery energy.

“Let’s do this.”

In his car, Mark took a deep breath, fingers trembling slightly as he checked himself in the rearview mirror—dark eyes fierce, jaw set.

Then he drove toward the cafe where their story had started, where so many memories waited quietly between sips of coffee and shy smiles.

---

Two hearts, tangled in past hurts and hopeful tomorrows, both dressed for the chance to rewrite their story—one nervous step at a time.