The wind brushed against her face as she stood at the edge of the rooftop. She looked down, tucking away a loose strand of hair that had stuck to her lips, coated in strawberry lip gloss. For days now, Hannah had been restless. She needed a moment of quiet, a place to breathe. This rooftop, so high and hushed above the world, offered the illusion of peace. She had hoped it might cleanse the noise from her mind and the weight pressing against her chest.
She truly needed that silence.
Lifting her gaze, she turned when she heard footsteps. A boy stepped onto the rooftop but didn't come closer. Instead, he paused by the door, raising a hand to motion for her to join him. She didn't ask why. Quietly, she walked toward him.
When she looked up at Jin, she noticed he appeared paler than usual—almost ghostly.
"I'm afraid of heights," he explained, catching her curious glance. "I feel safer standing here, near the door."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It's a nice place. We can still talk here," he added with a soft, almost hesitant smile.
A stretch of silence hung between them. Hannah struggled to find the right words to break it, unsure how to speak without sounding foolish. Jin, meanwhile, studied her face intently, as if searching for a piece of a puzzle long missing.
The past three months had been a nightmare for him. He couldn't move on from Danielle's sudden disappearance. She had left the city without a word, severing every connection. And now, as if from nowhere, that girl had returned—standing before him, familiar yet altered, remembering nothing.
"Will you promise to tell me the whole truth?" she asked suddenly, her voice quiet but urgent. Jin blinked in surprise. "The first day we met, you hugged me in the hallway and called me by name. It felt like you already knew me. Is it possible we've met before?" she asked, desperation flickering in her eyes. "I don't know what's happening to me. I think I'm losing my mind. Please… help me."
Jin hesitated. His eyes darkened with thought.
"Before I answer, I need to ask… is there any chance you might have forgotten part of your past?"
His question startled her.
She opened her mouth, placing a hand on her forehead as if trying to force a memory to surface. She had always believed she was healthy, that her memories were intact. But just for a moment, a terrifying thought crossed her mind—some illness that stole people's recollections. Could something like that have happened to her?
"You do know me, don't you? That's why you asked that," she whispered, her voice trembling. Her eyes shimmered with confusion. "These dreams… they must be real if they haunt me every night. None of this makes sense. How could I not remember part of my own life?"
"Hannah… I don't know what's going on either, but I need you to understand something. The last time I saw you was exactly three months ago," he said softly, watching her every reaction. She lowered her head, covering her face with both hands as his words sank in. A sharp gust of wind lifted her hair, and Jin's gaze accidentally drifted to the skin beneath her ear.
His breath hitched.
He stumbled back three full steps, staring at her as if he'd seen something he couldn't unsee.
"June… I know it was June," she murmured, almost to herself. "The worst month of my life…"
Jin leaned against the doorframe, visibly shaken. Only then did Hannah lift her face and meet his gaze.
"You okay?" she asked. He didn't respond right away. When she repeated the question, he blinked, then forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You scared me for a second," she added.
"Sorry," he mumbled, resting his hand on the doorknob. "I want to show you something. Will you come with me?"
She nodded, following him down to his room. She felt uneasy as he opened the door and let her in. Her eyes instinctively landed on the bed, and her throat tightened as memories from her unsettling dreams crept back in.
He pulled out a chair for her, then retrieved something from his drawer—a photograph. He handed it to her without a word and waited.
She looked down. Her lips parted, and her throat went dry.
The girl in the picture was leaning into Jin's side, her head resting on his shoulder. They both looked genuinely happy.
"When was this taken?" she asked, her voice thin.
"In May," he replied quietly.
It fit the timeline. Everything lined up.
"What were we to each other?" Her thoughts spun wildly. This photo, the dreams, the strange pull she felt toward him—none of it made any sense.
Jin opened his mouth, searching for the right word, but a sudden ringtone interrupted him. He apologized and stepped outside to take the call.
Left alone, Hannah stood and wandered around the room. Her eyes settled on the wall covered in photos of the boys. Tom was goofing off in most of them. She spotted Joseph in one, grinning, arms slung around his friends. He didn't look like the dark, brooding version of himself she now knew. They must have been first-years then—so much younger.
Her gaze fell to the bottom of the wall. A photo of a dark-haired boy holding a laughing girl caught her attention. The girl was beautiful. They looked perfect together—as if they had been made for one another.
"Joseph, I have a guest. I'll be back soon," Jin's voice called faintly. "And don't be a jerk, I'm warning you."
"I'm not a cannibal. I won't eat anyone."
Her heart leapt into her throat. She hated that voice. The very sound of it twisted her insides. When he stepped into the room, she silently prayed for Jin to return quickly.
Joseph leaned against the doorframe, a smug grin tugging at his lips. With a kick, he shut the door behind him.
"Hey there, sweetheart," he sneered, snapping his fingers in front of her face. "So, you two are on that level already, huh? Invited into his room? I'd say it's cute, but honestly, my stomach's turning."
The smile vanished from his face.
Hannah kept her eyes on the wall, doing her best to ignore him. But Joseph wasn't the kind of person to be ignored.
"You know, I liked that nickname so much, I changed my Instagram handle. 'Dark prince' has a nice ring to it," he said mockingly.
She decided she had enough. She moved toward the door, eager to leave.
But Joseph blocked her path.
She dropped her gaze, her body trembling as his cold stare bore into her. Still, she didn't look away. She wanted to show him she wasn't like the other girls—she wouldn't be intimidated.
"If you like the nickname so much, then do me a favor and leave me alone," she said quietly.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
Joseph tilted his head, his expression shifting. For the first time, she saw something new in his eyes—amusement.
"She used to do that too, when she was mad at me," he said.
Hannah blinked, confused. "She"? Was he talking about the girl in the photo?
Just then, Jin walked in, and Joseph backed away, casually flopping onto his bed.
Jin eyed him coldly.
"Everything okay?" he asked Hannah.
She nodded, glancing warily at Joseph, who was now tapping on his phone like nothing had happened.
"Do you want to talk somewhere else?"
"I think we should postpone," she replied quietly.
Joseph smirked from his corner, clearly listening in.
"I understand," Jin said.
Joseph didn't like what was happening between them. He didn't like that she was trying to get close to his friend. He couldn't allow their relationship to grow. She was cowardly, trying to shield herself behind Jin.
He knew Jin was the top student—respected by everyone, including him—and she was trying to use that.
He had to put an end to it.
"See you later, sweetheart," he called after her as she reached for the door.
She ignored him and left without another word.
"You're not going to let it go, are you?" Jin said, shutting his locker.
Joseph rested his head back on the pillow, his smirk returning.
"You terrorize the whole school. Isn't that enough? Leave Hannah alone."
Joseph rolled his eyes.
"You never care. You don't say anything when I mess with the others. So what is it about this girl? Why are you so protective of her?"
"You're worse than a kid," Jin muttered before walking out.
Joseph grinned to himself, arms folded behind his head. This girl—Hannah—had changed something. School was no longer boring. She had that same strange energy his ex, Halsey, used to have when they first met.
*
Mariah tightened her lips in silent fury the moment she noticed the classroom erupting into quiet cruelty again—this time directed at Nick.
A boy seated behind him kicked the back of his chair deliberately, snickering under his breath like it was the funniest thing in the world. Across the room, a girl spat folded paper cards at him, aiming for his shoulders, as if he were a target in some twisted game. And Nick? He sat hunched over his desk, head hidden between his hands, eyes blankly fixed on the pages of his notebook. He ignored them all, but the tension in his body made it clear he felt every second of it.
All it had taken was one word from Jimmy—and the whole class turned against him.
It wasn't just revenge for the punch Nick had landed on him last week. It was deeper, more venomous than that. Jimmy was punishing Nick for something far more personal: for Mariah. For the fact that she'd been hiding her friendship with Nick all along.
"Stop it!" Mariah's voice cut through the classroom like a blade. She rose from her seat, fists clenched, her heart pounding with helpless rage. "You're all in your final year, and this is how you act? Like pathetic idols in a bad teen drama? Grow up!"
Heads turned.
Joseph, who sat in the front row, slowly twisted around in his seat. He raised his eyebrows, feigning boredom, then flicked his wrist—and hurled a pen directly at her. It hit her squarely on the forehead.
"Shut your mouth," he sneered. "This is a classroom, not your little tribute rally."
Nick stood up without a word. He walked over to her, took her hand gently but firmly, and led her out of the room. They ignored the mocking laughter and whispered jabs echoing behind them.
Once in the hallway, away from the poisonous air of the classroom, Mariah couldn't hold it in anymore. She threw her arms around him and broke into sobs. Loud, painful sobs that she had tried to swallow down for too long.
"I can't take this anymore," she cried into his shoulder. "I just want this year to be over. I want to get out of this place—with you. Away from these monsters."
Nick held her close without saying a word. He let her cry until the shaking subsided, until her grip on his hoodie loosened and she leaned her forehead against his chest, exhausted.
"How are we going to survive this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Joseph makes my life hell, but now… it's not just me. Jimmy's turned everyone against you. And it's just starting. He'll keep going until you're completely alone."
"I don't give a damn," Nick said calmly. "I've always been on the outside. I've never talked to them. So let them laugh. Let them talk. I don't regret what I did—I don't regret hitting that bastard. It felt good. And I especially don't regret shutting him up when he insulted you."
She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, smiling through the tears.
"You're my best friend, Nick. I wouldn't trade you for the hottest actor in Hollywood."
He let out a quiet laugh and ruffled her hair.
"My little sister would never say that to me," he teased. "We'll make it. We'll show them all. Screw every one of those jerks."
She grinned, her eyes softening.
"I like when you talk like that. That's when I see Louis in you."
Her voice caught. Even after five years, the loss still hit her like a wave. Her older brother—Louis—had been her anchor. His death had left a hole in her heart that never really healed. But Nick, in his quiet loyalty and fierce protectiveness, filled at least part of that void. For that, she was endlessly grateful.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks just as the teacher came around the corner, walking briskly toward the classroom.
The bell had rung minutes ago. Their lunch break was over.
"Didn't you hear the bell?" he asked, stopping just before the doorway. He didn't scold them further, just opened the door and nodded toward the classroom.
Mariah sighed.
She didn't want to go back in. Not to that suffocating room full of sharp tongues and cruel glances. But she couldn't run away either—not in front of the teacher. This was her final year. She had worked too hard, and no one—not Jimmy, not Joseph—was going to ruin it.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped back inside, Nick quietly at her side.
*
The clock struck 9 p.m. Hannah, once again, dialed her mother's number. No answer. A familiar tightness wrapped around her chest, and her mind spun with unwelcome thoughts. Had something happened to her? Was she hurt?
A moment later, her phone buzzed. It was a message.
Can't talk now. I'll call you tomorrow. Everything's fine.
She exhaled in relief and set the phone down on the cabinet beside her bed.
Her mother had been through a lot recently—just as Hannah herself had faced a dark and trying time. Hannah had managed to recover quickly; she was resilient. But her mother had needed space, a pause from the weight of life, to heal and begin again.
Feeling a sudden pressure in her bladder—too much water, again—Hannah got up reluctantly and tiptoed into the hallway. The corridor was quiet and dimly lit, soaked in the eerie stillness of the late hour. She slipped into the bathroom and flicked on the lights. The fluorescent glare buzzed to life.
Her eyes drifted to the mirror.
It was clean this time. Spotless. Nothing strange. Nothing terrifying.
She sighed with faint relief and headed to the toilet. Just as she sat down, the lights blinked once—and then shut off completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Hannah froze. Her breath hitched in her throat as she strained to hear anything—any movement, any breath. Her eyes darted around the shadowed room, searching for a shape, a figure. Had someone followed her?
She'd caught a student playing pranks before, sneaking around at night like it was some sort of game. But tonight, the tension in the air was different. Heavy. Unsettling.
Then it came again.
The melody.
The same haunting tune she had heard before—faint, almost gentle—but deeply wrong.
It echoed from the shower room.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the curtain and drew it back.
Nothing.
The humming continued. And this time, she could swear someone was humming along with it.
Her pulse surged. She flinched when the bathroom door creaked open behind her.
A tall figure stepped in—an older student.
"You okay?" she asked, peering at her with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
She swallowed thickly and quickly stepped away from the shower, trying to compose herself. But just as she moved toward the door, the melody shifted. It was no longer coming from the bathroom. It was coming from the hallway.
"You hear that?" she asked in a whisper.
The student frowned. "Hear what?"
"The music," she said.
"I don't hear anything," she replied, shaking her head. She moved to the sink and began scrubbing something black off her hands—ink, maybe, or marker. "Probably just your imagination."
Hannah's breath came in quick, shallow bursts. She bolted into the corridor, eyes darting left and right, trying to follow the ghostly trail of sound. Panic coiled around her chest like a rope. Was she losing her mind? Was she hallucinating?
What if there was something genuinely wrong with her?
She wasn't aware of where her legs were taking her until she found herself climbing the stairs to the boys' floor. Her feet moved on their own, guided by some invisible pull, straight to a room with a half-open door.
Her breath caught.
Inside—it was the boys' bathroom.
Before she could step away, a strong hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her inside.
Jimmy.
The melody stopped. Her body stiffened. For a heartbeat, she couldn't breathe.
"Joseph," Jimmy called out to his friend, amusement lacing his voice, "your little mascot wandered up here."
Joseph stood at the sink, combing wet fingers through his damp, dark hair. He glanced back at her and smirked.
"Cute. But this isn't a fan meet-and-greet."
Before Hannah could respond, Tom emerged from the showers—completely naked. Water cascaded down his torso, glistening across his skin. Her eyes widened in shock as they landed—too low. Her hands shot up to cover her face, mortified.
Jimmy chuckled beside her. "Look how sweet she is. Like a little porcelain doll. Makes me want to puke."
Tom, unfazed, wrapped a towel around his waist and strode casually toward the mirror.
"She'll be my wife someday anyway," he said with a cocky grin. He shoved Joseph aside with his hip. "You've been hogging the mirror long enough. Let the rest of us admire ourselves."
"She's innocent?" Joseph echoed mockingly, ignoring Tom's theatrics. He stepped closer to Hannah, lowering his voice. "Even devils know their own kind."
He stared deep into her eyes, as if trying to peel back the layers of her soul.
Suddenly—
"Are you boys using the bathroom again at this hour?"
Hannah froze as the voice of the dorm guardian echoed closer. She panicked. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, darting toward the showers in search of a hiding place. But there was nowhere safe—not a single curtain or stall could shield her from inspection.
She spun around in terror, only for someone to grab her arm.
A hand pulled her swiftly behind a curtain. Warm water splashed down her hair and face.
Jin.
He stood naked under the running shower, finger pressed to his lips. His expression was calm, unbothered. But her heart nearly exploded from her chest.
She looked away, trying desperately not to lower her gaze. The sight of his bare chest alone was enough to short-circuit her thoughts. His presence stirred memories—dreams she didn't dare talk about. Dreams that felt real.
She could hardly breathe.
Outside the curtain, the dorm guardian entered.
"The four of you again?" the man asked sternly. Jin peeked around the edge of the curtain. In that brief moment, Hannah's gaze slipped—just for a second—and landed on his backside.
She instantly slapped her hands over her eyes. Oh god. She felt like a creep.
Tom caught her reaction in the mirror and burst out laughing.
"Smith," the guardian barked. "What's so funny?"
"Just drying my teeth, sir," Tom replied innocently.
The man gave them all a once-over. "You don't like sharing the bathroom? Fine. But finish by one o'clock. Understood?"
Joseph merely crossed his arms and nodded with bored disinterest.
"Now get back to your rooms," the man ordered. Jimmy and Joseph filed out, the latter slamming the door behind them.
The guardian turned back to the two remaining boys. "You too. Get dressed and back to bed."
As soon as the door closed, Hannah pushed the curtain aside and stumbled out, mumbling a breathless thank-you to Jin. Her hair clung to her face, her pajamas soaked and clinging uncomfortably to her skin.
She felt like a drowned rat.
Tom smirked. "So… whose is bigger?" He pointed toward his towel with a shameless wink.
Her face turned crimson.
Without another word, she bolted out of the bathroom, her drenched slippers squelching as she ran.
She had experienced more than enough for one night.
In fact, she had almost forgotten the haunting melody entirely.
Almost.
One thing was crystal clear in her mind as she reached her floor:
They were all utterly shameless.