ENHYEOK POV
Jiho staring at it.
Staring at her.
My chest goes still for a second.
Somewhere between annoyance, confusion, and something I don't name.
And before I can think—
before I can sort the feeling—
the word drops in my head like a stone:
OH.
…Yeah.
That's not nothing.
Because no guy looks like that at a girl he hates.
Not possible.
Not biologically, psychologically, spiritually possible.
And the way he's staring?
Soft.
Soft as hell.
Like he's lost in it.
Like he's replaying memories with her that don't even exist.
Like she's something he isn't supposed to look at, but he's doing it anyway.
His eyes aren't cold.
They're not confused.
They're warm.
Warm in this… irritating, shy-boy, crush-coded way.
And it pisses me off for a reason I don't want to unpack.
He rejected her six times with that softness in his face?
Bullshit.
Actually, no—
what the fuck.
Because that smile—barely there, almost scared, the kind that slips out unconsciously—
that kind of smile does not come from "I don't like her."
That comes from
I like her so much it's a problem.
I stand there, hands in my pockets, feeling the irritation crawl up my spine.
Not anger.
Not jealousy.
Just this… sharp annoyance at the whole thing.
At him.
At the way he looks at her like she's a private dream he's too coward to touch.
Minseok says something next to me, but it blurs out.
My hearing shuts off for a second when I see movement on the stairs.
Jiah.
And her two satellites—Bora and Haerin—floating beside her like chaotic bodyguards.
She's laughing about something, her hands moving around like she's explaining world war three, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.
That stupid messy hair swinging behind her.
She doesn't see Jiho.
But Jiho sees her.
The change is instant.
His shoulders go straight.
His breath hitches—yeah, I catch it.
His eyes soften even more, like someone dimmed the lights on purpose.
He watches her walk.
Every step.
Every smile.
Every stupid little expression she makes like she's living her own sitcom.
And I don't understand how she doesn't feel it.
How she doesn't see him staring at her like she hung the moon and also broke it.
She steps closer, still laughing with Bora.
Haerin says something and Jiah slaps her arm gently, giggling louder.
Jiho smiles at that.
An actual smile.
Soft, tiny, shy—
again with that stupid softness.
My jaw tightens.
Because no one smiles like that at someone they don't have feelings for.
He's not faking it.
He's not pretending.
He's not confused.
He likes her.
He likes her in that pathetic, quiet, can't-say-it-out-loud way.
Then she stops in front of the notice board.
Still not seeing him.
She stares at her photo.
Tilts her head.
Mumbles something to the picture like she's having a one-sided therapy session.
And Jiho?
Still staring.
Still soft.
Still caught like a dumbass in a daydream he'll never admit to.
She laughs again—loud, chaotic, that unfiltered Jiah laugh that makes half the hallway turn—and he smiles wider.
Wider.
Like she just made his day without even looking at him.
And all I can think is:
Why reject her six goddamn times
if you're gonna look at her like that?
Why pretend you don't care
when your whole face is screaming softness?
Why is she so blind?
How does she not notice any of this?
Her eyes suddenly shift.
She glances around—
And Jiho snaps his head away so fast it's pathetic.
Pretends he wasn't staring.
Pretends he wasn't smiling.
Pretends he doesn't even breathe the same air.
Jiah freezes for half a second when she sees him.
Her expression changes—so much love, so much history, so much stupid hope—
and he doesn't look back.
He acts like she's furniture.
And something in my chest twists in this unfamiliar, annoying, sharp way.
This is so fucking irritating.
So stupid.
So pointless.
I let out a breath, slow, controlled, cold.
"Bullshit."
And I walk away.
____________________
JIAH POV
Bora and Haerin are still half-dragging me down the hallway like they're escorting a celebrity who just won an Oscar for "Best Poem Written While Crying Over a Man Who Doesn't Want Her."
"Bro, I still can't believe you won," Bora keeps saying. "Like damn. A POEM? Girl, I didn't even know you had emotions that rhyme."
"I didn't either," I snort. "It literally came out of my eyeballs at 1AM. I swear I was crying so hard I almost drowned."
Haerin giggles, tiny and sparkly. "But it was so pretty… you're so talented, Jiah."
"Talented at being delulu," Bora adds proud-auntie style.
"SHUT," I flick her shoulder, laughing. "It wasn't even that deep! I just—like—wrote whatever my brain vomited while I was staring at my ceiling picturing Jiho rejecting me again."
We all burst into hysterical giggles because it's true and sad and funny all at once.
Then we reach the notice board.
And yeah. My picture is there.
I freeze like my soul lagged.
"OH SHIT," I squeak, grabbing Bora's arm like she's my anchor. "Why do I look kinda cute?? Hello??? Who is she??"
"You look pretty every day, dumbass," Bora smacks my back.
Haerin nods like she's presenting me to an award show. "Gorgeous."
I lean closer, squinting.
"Damn… okay… okay past-me kinda snapped."
I'm still admiring myself like the narcissist I should've been born as when— movement.
Someone's standing at the board.
Oh god.
Jiho.
JIHO.
He's so close I could probably poke his shoulder if I wanted to die today.
He doesn't look at me.
Not even a glance.
Not even a "yo, girl whose heart I rejected six times."
He's just… staring at the poster.
At my picture.
But not in a way that means anything.
Just… staring because it's there.
Like how people stare at a wall when they're tired.
My stomach folds into origami.
He doesn't notice me.
Of course he doesn't.
Why would he?
I'm literally background noise at this point.
Human wallpaper with feelings.
I open my mouth to say something—like hi or congrats or maybe "I'm sane now I swear"—
but he turns.
Walks away.
No hesitation. No look back. No nothing.
I stare at his back like a clown absorbing her daily humiliation.
Bora claps her hands loudly. "ANYWAY. Buy us snacks, bitch. It's YOUR day. Let's go."
"Yeah yeah," I mutter, tearing my eyes off Jiho's disappearing figure. "Fine. I'll feed my broke children."
We head to the store.
I buy chips, drinks, cookies, unnecessary chocolate, more chips, and something Haerin didn't even ask for but looked at for two seconds.
We sit on the bench outside like we're shooting a mukbang video.
Bora talks with her mouth full, "Next math test is Wednesday. You're studying, right?"
I choke on my drink.
"Oh hell yeah I'm studying. I HAVE to pass. Minimum 70. Minimum."
"Why so dramatic?" Bora asks, licking chip dust off her fingers.
"Because," I groan, dropping my head into my hands, "if I don't pass, I HAVE to get tutored by Enhyeok. Ms. Park already said she's pairing lowest scores with seatmates."
Bora and Haerin both gasp like I told them I got sentenced to death.
"NO," Bora slams her drink down. "ABSOLUTELY NOT. STUDY LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT."
Haerin nods aggressively. "You cannot get tutored by him. You'll cry. Or kill him. Or both."
"I KNOW," I shriek. "I refuse. I REFUSE. I will pass. I WILL PASS. I'm manifesting it. I'm praying. I'm studying. I'm bribing the math gods. I'm sacrificing my sleep."
Bora leans back. "But like… even though he's cold as shit… he's so hot."
I groan so loud a pigeon flies away.
"Bro, don't. Don't say that. Don't romanticize the fridge with legs."
Haerin giggles softly. "He really is handsome though… like… there's no one in school who looks like him."
"FACTS," Bora adds. "He's like… beautiful and scary and… I don't know. It hurts looking at him too long."
I roll my eyes so hard they practically moonwalk.
"Yeah yeah he's pretty, whatever. But personality matters and his is—" I throw my hands up, "—frozen yogurt with anger issues. That man is RUDE. And annoying. And rude again."
They laugh.
And yeah… fine… they're not wrong.
No one looks like him.
He's unfairly gorgeous.
But god. He's also the LAST person I want tutoring me.
I pop a chip into my mouth and sigh dramatically.
"Wednesday," I say. "I will pass. Watch me."
Bora and Haerin raise their drinks like we're toasting to war.
"YES GIRL," they shout.
And for once— I actually believe it.
We finish our snacks like three starving college boys and start dragging our asses back to class because if Ms. Park catches us late again she's gonna personally throw a math textbook at my skull.
We shuffle down the hallway, loud as hell, like we're the main characters of a sitcom no one asked for.
Bora stretches her arms above her head like she's warming up for the Olympics.
"Jiah. Are you free tonight?" she asks casually, like she isn't about to ruin my life with plans.
I already know what's coming.
"Why?" I sigh.
"Let's go to the arcade," she says, wiggling her eyebrows. "Get your brain off Jiho. We can shoot basketball hoops, race cars, beat up virtual zombies. You need therapy. This is therapy."
I snort. "Nah. I pass."
Both of them stop walking like I just told them I'm joining a cult.
Haerin blinks up at me. "Why not? Are you studying? Or… are you tired?"
Her voice is so soft and worried it makes me want to pat her like a baby cat.
"Nah," I say, waving my hand. "It's just—my parents won't be home tonight. Again. So I gotta get home early."
Bora and Haerin groan in absolute, full-body frustration.
"Girl WHAT," Bora complains. "Why are they NEVER home? How are they ALWAYS in the hospital? That's not even normal—do they live there??"
"Are you not scared being alone all the time?" Haerin asks, eyes going big and soft again.
I burst out laughing so hard I wheeze.
"Bitch," I say, hand on my chest, "I stay alone like twenty-nine days a month. Scared??? Of WHAT? The fridge??? My own reflection??? The ghosts in my room are probably tired of me too."
They crack up so loud a teacher down the hall gives us a look.
We turn the corner toward our class, still laughing, still roasting my lonely orphan-life era, and I'm mid-sentence saying,
"The only thing I'm scared of is my grades, bro—"
And then—
BAM.
I hit something.
No—
someone.
My forehead literally bounces off a shoulder that feels like it's carved from marble or taxes.
"OW—who the hell—" I start snapping, rubbing my forehead, and then I look up.
And freeze.
Because standing in front of me is her.
Enhyeok girlfriend.
Park. freaking. Areum.