MID-NIGHT: RAYDEN'S PRIVATE INTEL ROOM
His top agents stood before him.
"Report."
One of them opened a confidential file.
Agent:
"Sir, we found everything on the boy."
Rayden crossed his arms.
"Read."
---
INFO ON SMYLE
Full Name: Smyle Adit Sharma
Age: 19
Blood Group: O+
Height: 5'6
Education: 2nd-year University student
Department: Arts & Music
Skills:
• Guitar (12 years)
• Piano (10 years)
• Drawing/Sketching (Advanced)
Family:
• Mother only — father passed away when Smyle was young
• No siblings
Relationship Status:
• Single
• Never had a girlfriend or boyfriend
Best Friend:
• Name: Ohm
• Trait: Protective, bit dramatic
• Ohm recently broke up with his girlfriend
Personality:
• Introvert
• Soft-spoken
• Smart & talented but quiet
• Has trouble trusting people
Favorite Flower:
• Tulip
Rayden paused.
"Tulips?"
He stared at the file longer than necessary.
A strange softness flickered in his eyes.
Agent:
"Sir… He's… actually a very gentle kid."
Rayden whispered: "…I know."
Then he stood.
His coat flowed like shadow.
"Tomorrow, I'm visiting his university."
Agents stared.
"S-sir you… you will go personally!?"
Rayden:
"I don't send men for important things."
NEXT DAY
UNIVERSITY GROUNDS
Smyle just came out of his faculty building, holding his sketchbook and guitar bag.
He stretched.
"Ahhhh what a nice day—
No mafia, no guns, no weird drama—"
He looked ahead.
Crowd screaming. Girls blushing. Boys staring.
Someone incredibly handsome was standing there.
Tall.
Sharp jaw.
Black suit.
Cold eyes.
Deadly aura.
This man was surrounded by everyone.
Students:
"He's soooo handsome!"
"He looks like a model!"
"What's his name!?"
"Can I have your number?"
"Omg sir please one picture!!"
But the man ignored them all.
And then— Smyle saw his face clearly.
His blood froze.
It. Was. RAYDEN.
Smyle whisper-shouted to himself:
"NO WAY—
NOOOOOOO—
WHY IS HE HERE??"
His brain panicked:
"I hit him.
I called him dumb.
I laughed at his guards.
I ESCAPED LIKE A CARTOON CHARACTER—
AND NOW HE'S STANDING IN FRONT OF MY COLLEGE???"
Smyle put his hand on his face:
"I AM SO DEAD!
I THINK I HURT HIS EGO!
WHY NOT?? I PUNCHED HIM!
STRAIGHT ON THE FACE!! "
He contemplated running.
But Rayden's gaze slowly turned…
…and found him.
Their eyes locked.
Smyle squeaked.
"Mom… I lived a good life… but it's over now."
Rayden didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
He just started walking toward Smyle.
The crowd parted automatically like they sensed danger.
Every step Rayden took, Smyle felt his soul leaving his body.
Rayden finally stood in front of him.
He lowered his voice so only Smyle could hear:
"Good morning, angel."
Smyle's brain officially crashed:
"…What—Huh—Angel???"
Rayden leaned closer.
"You forgot something last night."
Smyle gulped:
"W-what did I f-forget?"
Rayden's eyes darkened with that same dangerous interest.
"…Me... smyle"
Smyle squeaked:
"H… How do you know my name…?"
Reyden smirked slightly.
"I know everything."
Smyle panicked:
"W-WHY!?"
Reyden leaned closer, voice deep but calm:
"Because you hit me last night…"
"And called me dumb."
"And then ran away."
Smyle covered his face:
"I AM SO SORRY I WAS PANICKED I SWEAR I THOUGHT I WAS IN A DRAMA—"
Reyden cut him off:
"I'm not angry."
Smyle blinked.
"You're… not?"
Reyden's eyes softened just slightly:
"You made me laugh.
No one has done that in years."
Smyle stared, speechless.
Then—
Reyden held out a single tulip.
Smyle's heart stopped.
His favorite flower.
"How… how do you know—?"
Reyden smirked.
"Told you.
I know everything."
Smyle froze where he stood.
His brain :
"YOU ARE DEAD YOU ARE DEAD YOU ARE DEAD—"
Reyden didn't care about the crowd.
He stepped closer — just enough for Smyle to feel his breath.
"You're skipping class today."
Smyle blinked rapidly.
"Wha—WHAT?! No! I have lectures—"
Reyden leaned down, brushing a strand of hair behind Smyle's ear.
That close.
Soft enough that Smyle shivered.
Then, with a voice meant only for him:
"Because your lecture will be boring… I'll give you something better."
Smyle's heart tried to run away from his body.
"But— I can't just— you can't just— you're— I—"
Reyden smirked.
"And I think you don't want me to kiss you in front of all of them…"
His thumb ghosted along Smyle's jawline.
Smyle's brain:
"KISS?!?!?!?"
People around gasped. Girls squealed. Boys stared, jaw dropped.
Rayden continued softly, low and dangerous,
"…but if you DO want it, I don't mind."
Smyle basically combusted.
"What—KISS?! Here?! Are you CRAZY?! I'm dead—I'm literally dead—no no no NO!"
Reyden just smiled like a psycho prince.
The black car door opened. The guards waited.
Reyden leaned closer one last time. Just a whisper.
"Get in the car before YOU make me do something bold."
Smyle froze. He swallowed.
"…I'll go. I'M GOING OKAY JUST DON'T—DON'T KISS ANYONE!"
Everyone watched as Smyle rushed into the car like a scared kitten trying to save its life.
Reyden followed, calm, composed, pure mafia energy.
INSIDE THE CAR
Smyle sank into the seat, covering his face with both hands.
"Oh god… oh god… WHY ME?!"
Reyden chuckled.
"Because you punched me."
Smyle: "THAT WAS A REFLEX!!"
Reyden: "And I liked it."
Smyle: "STOP MAKING IT SOUND—WEIRD!!"
Reyden stared at him. Not angry. Not mocking.
Just… interested. Dangerously interested.
OUTSIDE THE UNIVERSITY
Students stood frozen. Silence. Shock.
Someone whispered:
"…he looked like a damn hot model picking a beautiful university boy??"
Someone else: "I think… they're dating."
Someone else: "whattt-- no way i saw that??"
And chaos began.