Chapter : 2 bullies over Friends !

Kang Taejun stormed back into his class,anger simmering under his skin. He hated it—hated how he couldn’t get a single word out to Jazze. That soft, flower-like face kept flashing in his mind, knocking every warning off his tongue. And honestly, making that fragile kid cry? Not only would it ruin Jazze, it would ruin Taejun’s carefully crafted image—his *own* golden rule, by the way.

Inside the classroom, the scene was predictable. His best friend, Park Haesoo, was leaning against a desk, chatting away with a group of girls like he owned the place. Their laughter rang out too sweet, too practiced, while the boys at the back glared with a mix of jealousy and irritation. The kind of irritation that came when Haesoo’s charm made everything feel cringey but impossible to look away from.

Not that either of them cared. Taejun and Haesoo had long stopped paying attention to what the guys thought—girls were their arena. Still, if anyone thought Haesoo was any less of a pervert than his best friend, they were dead wrong. Underneath his easy smile, he was just as twisted, just as restless, maybe even a little deeper in those feelings than Taejun himself.

The moment Taejun hit his seat, Haesoo leaned forward, eyebrow arched like he already smelled the drama.

“You look like you just saw your ex get married to your landlord,” Haesoo said casually, twirling a pen between his fingers. The girls around them giggled, but Taejun didn’t even flinch. His brain was still hijacked by Jazze’s face.

“That kid,” Taejun muttered darkly.

“Which kid? Bro, you say that every week. Be specific.”

“The transfer one.”

“Ohhh, flower boy,” Haesoo smirked. “Don’t tell me you—”

“Shut up.” Taejun’s glare could have burned holes in the desk, but his ears betrayed him, turning pink.

Haesoo leaned back, grinning like the devil himself. “So let me get this straight. You dragged me away from my adoring fans”—he gestured at the disappointed girls still hovering nearby—“because some pretty Canadian boy made you forget how to speak words?”

Taejun shot him the face of a man whose pride was currently in the ICU. “He’s not *just* pretty. He’s… dangerous.”

Haesoo blinked. Then burst out laughing so loud the boys at the back threw pencils at him. “Dangerous?! What’s he gonna do, kill you with dimples?!”

Taejun slumped back, one hand in his hair, completely serious. “You won’t get it. I see the potential. That kid… he’s trouble.”

Haesoo tilted his head, studying him. “Wow. You’ve officially lost it. Should I call the nurse? Or just your therapist?”

But Taejun didn’t answer. His eyes had already drifted to the door—half expecting Jazze to walk past, half dreading it, half desperate for it. (Yeah, that’s three halves, but who cares. Taejun was broken math right now.)

Taejun was still sulking in his seat when another voice cut into the moment.

“Oi, Kang Taejun! Why you look like a kicked puppy again?”

It was Minwoo, the class clown, rolling a basketball under his desk. He always smelled like gym socks and bad decisions. The girls hated him, the boys tolerated him, and somehow he thought he was Taejun’s rival. Spoiler: he wasn’t. ( His freind)

Before Taejun could roast him, Sooyeon ( another friend) —the know-it-all class rep—snapped her textbook shut. “Maybe if he studied for once, he wouldn’t look so miserable. Honestly, boys like you two are the reason teachers age ten years in one semester.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Haesoo said lazily, earning a glare from her.

And then there was Eunji ( still his friend ), the gossip queen, who leaned over her desk with a grin sharper than scissors. “Nahhh, I know that look. That’s not study stress. Our Taejun’s got a crush.”

The class *erupted*. Whistles, teasing, exaggerated gasps. Even Minwoo dropped his basketball just to clap dramatically.

Taejun’s pride cracked like cheap glass. “Shut. Up. All of you!” he barked, slamming his desk loud enough for chalk dust to rain down from the board.

But Eunji only smirked wider, phone already out. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll find out who it is.”

Haesoo leaned back in his chair, watching the chaos unfold like a man eating popcorn at the movies. “This is better than cable,” he muttered.

Taejun buried his face in his hands. God. The walls were closing in. And all because of that one kid—Jazze—who hadn’t even stepped into the class yet.

The classroom was still buzzing with teasing when the door slid open.

And in walked Jazze.

Not drifting past like a breeze this time, but actually stepping *inside*. His arms were full of neatly stacked notebooks, the kind teachers loved to dump on juniors as errands. His expression was calm, soft around the edges, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks from the effort.

The whole room went silent for a beat. Girls lit up instantly, whispering like sparrows. Boys groaned, rolling their eyes. Eunji gasped like she’d just spotted a celebrity.

And Taejun? Taejun froze so hard he might as well have been carved from stone.

“Excuse me,” Jazze said softly, bowing a little. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried—smooth, careful, polite in a way that made him feel untouchable. “Teacher asked me to deliver these notebooks.”

Sooyeon, ever the class rep, jumped up to collect them. But the second Jazze stepped closer, the sunlight from the window caught his profile—those lashes, that gentle curve of his mouth—and Taejun felt his entire existence collapse.

Haesoo elbowed him with zero sympathy. “Bro. BRO. Stop staring before you drool. You look like a dog at a barbecue.”

Eunji leaned forward, eyes glinting. “Ooooh, THIS is the kid? No wonder Taejun’s been acting possessed!”

The class broke into laughter, and Taejun wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

But Jazze—Jazze only blinked, tilting his head slightly as if he noticed the attention but chose not to comment. Instead, he gave the faintest smile, soft and shy, before turning to leave once the notebooks were delivered.

Taejun slammed his palm on the desk, heart racing. “He’s dangerous,” he muttered under his breath, though it sounded more like a confession than a warning.

And Haesoo? He just cackled. “Dangerous? Please. The only thing he’s killing is your reputation "

The second Taejun stormed out of the classroom, three shadows followed him.

“Wait up, drama king!” Minwoo yelled, jogging after him with his basketball still tucked under one arm.

Sooyeon sighed but trailed along anyway, muttering, “If he gets into trouble, we’re all getting dragged into it, so might as well…”

And Eunji? Eunji was already filming on her phone. “This is *prime content*, you think I’m missing it?”

Haesoo strolled in last, hands in pockets, grinning like a cat watching its favorite soap opera unfold.

They caught up just in time to see Taejun freeze mid-step—because there, standing in the hallway with a neat stack of notebooks in his arms, was Jazze.

The junior looked up, surprised at the sudden crowd, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Ah… sorry, seniors. I didn’t mean to block the way.” His voice was soft, polite, carrying that fragile-but-anchored aura that made the entire group go still.

Eunji’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. It’s him. The flower boy junior.”

Sooyeon adjusted her glasses, whispering, “He’s… actually prettier up close. Ugh, that’s unfair.”

Minwoo elbowed Taejun with the subtlety of a car crash. “Bro. BRO. Say something before you combust.”

But Taejun? He just stood there, eyes locked on Jazze, every part of his storming-off plan crumbling into dust. His heart was a mess, his pride in shambles, and worst of all—his friends were watching.

Haesoo smirked, leaning in to whisper loud enough for everyone to hear: “Yup. He’s done for.”

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