The school bell blared like a siren, jolting every student awake. Desks stayed empty—no one dared sit, knowing the teacher would dictate their fate with a seating chart.

In 3B, the tension was thick. All eyes fixed on Mr. Kim, who paced in front of the chalkboard, reading names like a roll call from destiny:

“Jungho, first row by the window. Shuhua next to him. Han, then Felix… Seungmin behind Hyunjin. Renjun beside Seungmin, by the window. Eunbin next to Seungmin. Xion next to her. Sahna behind him. Nancy next to Sahna. Donghyuck next to Nancy. Mia beside Donghyuck. Behind Mia is Jaemin… Soobin, Lia, and last—”

BAM—the door slammed open.

“Jeno,” Mr. Kim announced.

Jeno shuffled in, cheeks flushed. “Sorry, sir. I overslept. Won’t happen again.”

A collective whoa rippled through the room. Jeno, the infamous, apologizing?

Mr. Kim smirked. “Since you apologized… no detention. But you’re sitting in the last row, next to the maps.”

Jeno nodded, settling in with a rare calm.

Whispers filled the room like a low hum—Lee Jeno apologized? Didn’t he scare everyone last year?

Mr. Kim raised his voice, slicing through the chatter. “Listen up! I’ve formed groups of four for projects. Don’t hate me if you get stuck with teammates you don’t like.”

His gaze flicked to the class.

“Group 3: Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin.”

The room buzzed louder. Nerd meets bad boy meets playboy meets rich kid. This was gonna be chaos.

---

Meanwhile, in 4D, Mark sat next to Yunho—the same boy from the bus. Though Mark was technically a grade lower, his skills and Korean fluency had earned him a spot here.

His classmates—Changbin, Yeonjun, and Tzuyu—were loud, chaotic, alive.

---

One grade down, Chenle partnered up with Yang Jeongin, Beomgyu, Ryujin, and Somi. The room echoed with laughter and teasing.

---

Jisung’s heart hammered as he entered his new classroom. Called to sit beside Taehyun and Chungkai, with Hwi rounding out the group, he felt like an alien. Smart, loud, flirt—each was a different puzzle piece he wasn’t sure he fit with yet.

---

Back to 3B:

“Next up—Science,” Mr. Kim said, voice sharp. “Your group project starts now. If you don’t know your partners, check with any teacher. Good luck.”

The bell rang again, and students flooded the halls, bumping into one another like a river bursting its banks.

---

The halls were a river of bodies, some rushing, some lingering, making it impossible to walk without bumping into someone.

Donghyuck was weaving through when he spotted San.

“Hey dude, how was your summer?” San asked.

“Summer always sucked, so don’t know why this one would be different,” Hyuck said, flat and tired.

San frowned. “Well, you never hung out with us. I was kinda worried... Everything okay?”

“Yeah, dude. Just can’t really stand heat that well,” Hyuck replied.

San was about to say more when someone suddenly bumped into him.

“Hey! Who do you think you are?!” San snapped, eyes locking onto the smaller male — Renjun.

Renjun’s voice trembled. “I-I’m really sorry. Everyone was pushing me. I didn’t mean to.”

His scared look only made San smirk wider.

Hyuck tried to step in, careful not to sound like a hero. “Yo man, leave him. We have class.”

San scoffed. “Listen, poor kid. You don’t touch people above you. Especially not me.”

He took a step toward Renjun, shoving him hard against the lockers.

Just then, Jaemin’s voice cut through. “Hey, leave him alone. He said he didn’t do it on purpose.”

San spun, eyes narrowing on Jaemin. “Oh, Mister Rich telling me to back off the nerd now? He pushed me, then tried to get away with it. I wanted to just beat him up, but guess I’ve got two to deal with.”

The halls were thinning out — not many witnesses left, but enough.

San raised his fist, aiming for Renjun’s face.

Then — snap — a strong hand clamped down on San’s elbow, yanking him back with brutal force.

San stumbled and slammed onto his butt, disbelief written across his face.

Looking up, he saw the one person who made even him freeze — Jeno.

“He said he was sorry,” Jeno growled low. “If your greedy ass can’t accept that apology, I can give you a fist on the nose. Or anywhere else. Now scram.”

San didn’t need a second invitation.

He fled.

Jeno turned to Renjun and Jaemin, who were both backed against the lockers, wide-eyed.

“...Aren’t you gonna thank me?” he asked, voice softer.

Renjun stammered, bowing quickly. “U-uh, th-thank you.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow, amused. “Hey, why are you bowing?”

Renjun blinked. “U-uh... I... don’t know?”

Jeno’s expression shifted, almost friendly. “Look, I’m sorry for last year. I’ve matured. The only person I’d ever hurt now is San. And we never officially met.”

He flashed a grin — part charming, part dangerous.

“Lee Jeno. Dance department, captain of basketball and football.”

Renjun relaxed, smiling awkwardly. “Huang Renjun. Vocal department, president of the Chinese club.”

Jaemin chimed in, smiling slightly. “Na Jaemin. Dance department, president of the cooking club.”

Jeno nodded. “I know you didn’t bump into him on purpose. Just be careful next time — San’s a dick who doesn’t care about anything.”

Renjun chuckled softly. “Noted.”

Jaemin glanced at his watch. “Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

And with that, the unlikely trio walked off — nerd, bad boy, rich kid.

Who would’ve thought? But now, Jeno wasn’t just a feared bad boy anymore — just someone you might want on your side.
---

The bell signaled lunch, and the cafeteria buzzed with hungry, restless energy.

Groups formed in tight circles—known, feared, respected, or ignored.

Mark scanned the sea of faces, noting the cliques: football players, basketball players, fuckboys, rich kids, freaks, and quiet loners.

No one sat alone, except maybe him.

He spotted Yunho’s blue hair and approached.

“Hey,” Mark said.

Yunho smiled but shook his head. “Sorry, Mark. Only seat left’s for my best friend.”

Mark forced a smile. “It’s okay. See you in class.”

Left with no choice, Mark settled at a lonely table, feeling eyes on him but giving zero fucks.

He started eating — surprisingly good school food — when a cough made him look up.

A tall, muscular boy with black hair and casual black jeans and hoodie stood before him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re in my seat,” the boy said low.

Mark felt a jolt of fear but masked it.

“Oh, sorry.”

Jeno chuckled. “Just kidding. Lee Jeno, dance department, Class 3B. You new?”

“Mark Lee. Rap department, from America.”

“Lee brothers,” Jeno giggled.

At the far end of the table, a shy boy tried to disappear.
They left the shy boy alone, the air between them settling comfortably.

Jeno broke the silence. “So... how’s America?”

Mark shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “People are pretty accepting. But wow—this school’s got so many cliques. How come you’re not in one? No homo, but you’re seriously the most handsome guy here.”

Jeno chuckled, a low, rare sound. “That definitely shows you’re new. Last year—well, two years ago—I was a bully. But I changed. Summer did me good. Honestly? I feel way better now.”

Mark grinned. “Ohhh, that explains why you’re scary.”

Jeno smirked. “I basically have six facial expressions: mad, confused, happy, excited, disgusted, and ‘trying to be charismatic.’”

“Crying?” Mark asked, eyebrows raised.

Jeno went quiet, eyes darkening for a beat.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to...” Mark quickly backtracked.

Jeno shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve only cried twice in my life. Not a face you’ll see often.”

Mark smiled softly.

Their quiet was broken by a hesitant voice.

“Umm... hey, can I sit here?”

They looked up to see Jaemin standing there.

“Of course,” Jeno said, gesturing. “This is Mark.”

Mark gave a small smile. “Hi.”

Jaemin smiled shyly back. “I’m Jaemin, dance department. What about you?”

“Rap,” Mark replied.

Jeno grinned. “He’s from America.”

“No way!” Jaemin’s heart skipped. Their eyes met, and the smiles between them bloomed like a secret.

Mark puffed out his chest a bit. “Sort of the outcast.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Just because you’re new doesn’t mean that. And hey, if anyone tries to bully you, call Jeno. Everyone’s scared of him anyway.”

Mark smirked. “How long have you two been friends? You look like you grew up together.”

Jaemin laughed nervously. “Funny story, actually... He saved me and a classmate from a beating earlier today. He used to be the bad boy everyone feared... but today? He’s kinda different. So, we’re... kind of friends.”

“So... not really friends?” Mark teased.

“Kind of,” Jaemin shrugged.

“But we can change that,” Jeno said, a rare spark in his eyes.

“Wait—you want friends? Lee Jeno, the loner?” Jaemin’s cheeks flushed, caught off guard.

Jeno smirked playfully. “I could always find someone better later.”

Jaemin’s heart sank, but Jeno quickly added, “I’m kidding! Of course I want friends. We’re partners. Gotta get along somehow. You seem nice.”

Mark laughed. “So, why are you sitting here anyway?”

Jaemin’s smile dimmed slightly. “I’ve always been alone. I know everything about everyone, but no one really knows me.”

“Jeno’s your first friend?” Mark asked gently.

“Kinda, yeah,” Jaemin nodded.

Jeno looked at Mark. “What about you, Mister America?”

Mark sighed, dramatic as ever. “Girls ask for my number. Guys want to be friends. I just can’t handle all that.”

Jaemin gasped. “Seriously?”

Mark shook his head. “If you believe that, you should go back to first grade. I met one person on the bus. Asked to sit with him. He said he was saving it for his best friend. I talked a bit with my partners. That’s it.”

Jeno smiled. “That’s okay. You’ve got us now.”

Jaemin grinned. “Even if we see each other once a day, this cafeteria table is ours, right?”

“Exactly,” Jeno said. “Still got half an hour. Wanna sneak out to the field and catch the tennis match?”

“Isn’t that forbidden?” Jaemin asked, eyes sparkling.

“Of course it is...” Jeno winked.

“Let’s go,” Jaemin said, already standing.

“Alright!” Mark laughed.

They glanced toward the boy at the other end of the table — headphones in, quietly eating, barely glancing up. Jisung.

Without another word, the three slipped away, sneaking into the last minutes of the tennis match.

---

Back in the cafeteria, Donghyuck entered, transformed.

Gone was the playboy swagger. Now, he looked tired, distant, almost hollow.

He scanned for a quiet table. The conversations about conquests and girls made his skin crawl.

He spotted a nearly empty table with one lone occupant — a boy lost in his own world.

Donghyuck moved fast, sliding into the seat.

Only to find something wet on it.

Someone was already here.

Weird.

---

The school day was only just beginning.