3... 2... 1...
Ring!
Finally.
I closed my eyes and smiled softly to myself as the sharp chime of the alarm pierced the quiet, quaint classroom. The sound marked the official end of the day — and for many of my classmates, the start of their much-anticipated holiday. I listened quietly as they hurriedly packed up their things, their laughter and chatter filling the room with the kind of carefree excitement I desperately craved.
These past few weeks had dragged on endlessly. Every night was a battle to finish the mountain of homework and assignments that seemed to grow taller by the day. Every single task had to be submitted by today, and somehow — by sheer willpower, fueled by countless energy drinks and all-nighters — I'd managed to get everything done. If it weren't for that caffeine-fueled madness, I probably wouldn't have finished a single piece on time. But then again, I only had myself to blame for procrastinating so much. Leaving everything until the last minute wasn't new for me—it was an old habit, one I'd carried with me since childhood. Some habits just refuse to die.
I let out a long, relieved sigh as the realization settled in — six whole weeks of summer holidays stretched ahead of me. No deadlines. No stress. Freedom.
Well, freedom in theory.
Truth be told, I didn't have much planned. I figured I'd probably spend most of the time binging Netflix, maybe dust off a few Jane Austen novels I'd been meaning to read, or possibly hang out with my mother. But even the thought of spending those weeks with her made me hesitant. Whenever we were together, she'd insist on dragging me to the shopping mall or some other painfully dull activity. Shopping wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. I loved my mother — I'd do anything for her — but sometimes she was a little... much.
See, my mother had always wished I was more like a "girly girl" — someone to talk fashion, makeup, and all those trivial things she adored. But honestly? That stuff bored me to tears. I couldn't imagine anything more dreadful than discussing the latest ridiculous outfit some celebrity was wearing or which lipstick Kim Kardashian was endorsing. I didn't care for any of it.
But my mother? That was her whole world. She refused to accept that I was a tomboy at heart — someone who preferred band t-shirts, jeans, and hoodies over fancy designer labels or fleeting trends. To me, comfort was everything. To her, it was all about appearances and status. She spent a fortune buying me extravagant dresses, shoes, lingerie, even accessories, but none of it ever saw the light of day. It wasn't that I was ungrateful — far from it — but none of those things felt like me. Shopping was the one thing that made her happy, especially since my father had been all but absent for years.
My dad was practically a ghost in our lives. The only times we ever heard from him were when a letter and a paycheck arrived at the start of each month. That was it. And every time my mother read his letters, her face crumpled, tears streaming until she ran dry. It broke my heart watching her suffer in silence.
He'd been gone for nearly ten years now. Not once had he called or made any real effort to be part of our lives. I often worried about what would happen if I ever saw his face on the news, with the word MURDERED flashing across the screen. What would my mother and I do then?
"Maggie!"
The sound of my name pulled me back to reality. My eyes snapped open, and when I turned, I groaned quietly under my breath.
"Natalie. How are you?" I asked, masking my irritation.
Honestly, I didn't care how she was.
Natalie stopped at the edge of my table, flashing a bright, enthusiastic smile. "How am I? Oh, so much better now that the lecture's finally over! I mean, how boring was that?"
If there was ever a perfect daughter for my mother, it was Natalie. She was the living embodiment of everything my mother wanted me to be — a classic girly girl. Designer labels from head to toe, a wardrobe obsessed with pink in every shade imaginable — from headbands to nail polish, lipstick to eyeshadow. Pink was her signature.
Natalie was also the kind of student who would do anything to get an A, including sleeping with the lecturer. A few months ago, I'd accidentally caught her and Mr. Connors in a compromising situation. I'd forgotten something in the classroom, walked in, and she was coming out, straightening her shirt, hair tousled. He followed, tucking in his shirt, smug as hell. No detective needed to figure out what had happened. I didn't feel shocked—just a deep pity for his wife and kids, who still had no idea.
People like Natalie irritated me more than anything, mostly because she was everything my mother wished I was.
I looked up at her and sighed. Not because I agreed, but because she was still standing there.
"Very," I muttered.
"I thought it'd never end!" she said, dramatically.
I rolled my eyes and mimicked her enthusiasm. "Me too."
Please, just go away.
But she lingered.
Natalie ran her perfectly manicured pink fingers through her bleached blonde hair and yawned. "I swear, I was about to fall asleep."
I slid out of my chair and pushed it neatly back under the table. "At least it's the holidays now, right?"
"Thank God," she said, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Speaking of which, what are your plans?"
Nosy much?
Honestly, I hadn't decided. I thought maybe I'd try to find my father, but I wouldn't even know where to start. It would make my mother so happy to see him again, even once.
"I haven't decided yet."
Natalie frowned. "What? How can you not know what you're doing for six whole weeks?"
I gave her a fake smile. "Not all of us can be as organized as you, Natalie."
She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "I guess. But I've been planning this for months."
Good for you.
"My parents are going on vacation, so I'm throwing parties. Lots of parties." She gave me a knowing look.
"Tons of booze and a bunch of horny students?" I muttered.
She squealed with delight. "Exactly! And you're totally invited."
I'd rather choke on my own vomit.
I declined politely. "No thanks. But thanks for the invite."
She wiggled her eyebrows. "Boys will be there. Lots of them."
"And?"
She shrugged. "Isn't it time you got yourself a boyfriend?"
I raised a brow.
"A boyfriend?" I echoed.
She nodded. "Yeah, you're always alone. I thought maybe my parties would be a good chance for you to meet someone."
Since the start of the year, I'd been somewhat of a loner — by choice. I never bothered making friends because I liked being on my own. Between family drama and how I was raised, normal social life just wasn't my thing. So for Natalie to push into my personal life like this was irritating. We'd never been friends; she just assumed because once I lent her a pen.
I scoffed. "Girls like me don't have time for boys."
She looked at me like I'd just committed a crime. "Then what do you have time for?"
Not partying, that's for sure.
I gathered my books and shook my head. "Have a nice six weeks."
Just as I turned to leave, I felt a hand grab my elbow. For the second time, I groaned.
"Natalie, what now?"
She bit her lip shyly. "Before you go—what do you know about the Jinyoung brothers?"
What?
One wasn't enough for her?
I almost laughed. If she were a guy, her brain would be in her head, not somewhere else.
I shrugged. "Not much."
Disappointed, she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Not much? They're your neighbours."
I gently pulled my elbow free. "Neighbours doesn't mean I know them."
"But what do you know?"
All I knew was they'd recently moved here from China — three brothers named Chen, Kang, and Yuta. That was it. I never spoke to them because my father ordered me not to. And I never disobeyed him.
"Probably about as much as you do. I rarely see them."
And that was the truth.
They kept to themselves. They were like my family—quiet, distant.
Her eyes dropped and she pouted. "Too bad. I was hoping to invite them to my party. Especially Yuta."
Yuta was the oldest, then Chen, then Kang. They were known as bad boys on campus—rule breakers who didn't care about anyone.
"You like Yuta?" I asked.
She blushed instantly. Pathetic.
"I think he's the hottest guy on campus. Every time I see him, I get butterflies." She groaned. "And the things I'd do to him."
I scanned her and cleared my throat. "I thought you were seeing someone?"
She shook her head. "Nope."
Liar.
"Really?" I leaned in and lowered my voice. "What about Mr. Connors? How's he going to feel about that?"
Her smile vanished, replaced by a pale panic.
Priceless.
She had no idea I knew her secret. Knowing I held the power to ruin her and Mr. Connors made me feel untouchable. And I loved it.
I straightened. "Don't play dumb, Natalie. We both know you've been screwing Mr. Connors all year. I fucking hate liars."
She stammered. "You're mistaken."
I sighed. "I always wondered how a blonde bimbo like you got straight A's. Then it clicked. I saw you two. How desperate are you?"
Natalie's jaw dropped.
I took a step closer, voice low. "Without sucking his cock, you wouldn't even scrape a D, you fucking whore."
I pushed past her, stopping just before the door.
One last jab, just for fun.
"Oh, and about Yuta? He hates blondes. Never comes home with one. Maybe try Kang—he fucks anything with a pulse. You two would be perfect."
I left her crying behind me. Music to my ears.
By now, you've probably figured out I'm kind of a bitch. And before you ask—no, it wasn't a choice. It was survival. Growing up tough was a necessity, not a hobby. I never took shit from anyone because if I did, I'd be a pushover. My childhood wasn't normal. No dolls, no toys, no teddy bears to hold at night. The worst? When I told my father about the monster in the closet, he gave me a shotgun. Sad, right? But that was how he wanted me raised — stone cold.
Endless training, pushing past pain until I passed out or threw up. I gave it everything I had, and I still do, because I know that's what he wants.
And honestly? I'd rather be a bitch than a doormat.
The corridors were deserted—no students in sight. Everyone had probably rushed out early, eager to escape and kick off their holidays. Honestly, I couldn't blame them. Another week stuck in this place would drive anyone crazy. This break was well deserved.
I hurried toward the doors leading out of the university, eager to be anywhere but here. But halfway down the hall, my phone suddenly rang inside my jeans pocket, making me stop abruptly. I shifted my books into the crook of one arm and reached for my phone. Just as I pulled it from my back pocket, someone crashed into me from behind—my books and phone clattered to the floor.
Seriously?
I sighed and shook my head in frustration. Without glancing back, I knelt down and started gathering my things, silently expecting the culprit to at least help since it was their fault. But no one came to lend a hand. I already hated whoever they were, even though I hadn't seen their face yet.
Books and phone back in hand, I stood and spun around to confront the rude person—only to have my jaw drop.
There, standing tall and imposing, were the Jinyoung brothers. Three of them, each about six feet tall, almost identical in height and bearing.
I glanced left to the youngest, Kang. He could've been a model. His thick, glossy black hair was perfectly groomed, rippling like a mark of his wealth. His sharp nose and high cheekbones sculpted a face so handsome the word barely did it justice. His broad shoulders and chiseled jaw spoke of strength, but it was his piercing blue eyes that caught everyone's attention—narrow, sharp, almost electric. I never thought those eyes could be so captivating until now, standing this close to them for the first time.
Slowly, I shifted my gaze to the right, landing on the second brother, Chen. Like Kang, he had the model look—wild chestnut hair tousled just enough to seem effortless. His crescent-shaped eyebrows perfectly framed a stern nose and angular cheekbones, leading down to a rugged jawline. Unlike most models, Chen had a solid, manly build. His big, chocolate-brown eyes were soft and gentle, the quiet one of the trio whom most girls overlooked.
Finally, I looked at the eldest, Yuta. His long legs, even through his black trousers, were muscular and commanding. His oval face, with a defined chin and sturdy jaw, held an air of authority. His hooded, black eyes sat beneath perfectly arched brows, and his jet-black hair was styled neatly, slicked back to reveal flawless skin. He kept his mouth in a thin line, radiating a leonine power. But it was those eyes—dark, soulless onyx stones—that unsettled me. Looking into them felt like staring into endless voids.
Without a word, I took a step back, turned, and began walking away—until a voice made me freeze.
"Stop."
It was Kang's gravelly tone that halted me instantly.
This was my first real encounter with the brothers, and I hadn't imagined it would be like this.
From the way Kang spoke, I knew this wasn't a friendly greeting between neighbours. No, it was the exact opposite. I was taught never to back down from confrontation—but I also knew better than to mess with these three, especially Yuta.
"Turn around," Kang commanded.
I spun back to face him, meeting his gaze with cool defiance. "Yeah?"
He didn't expect that answer; his surprise was clear.
Kang glanced sideways at his older brothers. Neither Yuta nor Chen said a word—they just stared blankly. Then Kang laughed, a low, unsettling sound.
I stared, puzzled and trying to figure out why I'd been stopped.
After regaining control, Kang smirked. "I'm still waiting."
For what?
I looked to Chen and Yuta for clues, but they stayed silent.
I sighed, irritation bubbling over. "Waiting for what?"
Kang leaned forward, eyes level with mine. "An apology."
Excuse me?
My eyes widened. "I haven't done any—"
"Lose the attitude," Chen snapped.
I scoffed. "I didn't do anything wrong."
Kang taunted, "Did you forget almost making me fall?"
Part of me wanted to apologize, knowing better than to rile them up. But the other part refused to back down.
My voice hardened. "Maybe you should've watched where you were going."
That was the wrong answer.
Kang stepped forward, but Yuta's hand stopped him firmly on the chest.
"No. Not here."
"But brother—"
"I said no."
Kang's frustration was clear, but Yuta caught it immediately. Placing a hand on Kang's shoulder, he leaned in, speaking quietly in their native tongue.
"Zhè bùshì shí jiàn huò dìdiǎn, Kāng. Nǐ dǒng de." (This is not the time or place, Kang. You know that.)
"Tā méiyǒu dàoqiàn. Wèi cǐ, wǒ bìxū jiào tā yītáng kè." (She did not apologize. For that reason, I must teach her a lesson.) Kang growled back.
"Nǐ huì de, xiōngdì. Zhǐshì bùshì jīntiān." (You will, brother. Just not today.) Yuta gave a hard squeeze, then released him.
I didn't like how this was unfolding, so I stepped back—only to catch Chen's sharp gaze.
"And where do you think you're going?" he asked coolly.
I ignored him and met Kang's eyes. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face as he left Yuta's side and strode toward me without breaking eye contact.
When he stopped in front of me, those bright blue eyes bored into mine.
"You're lucky today, girl. Very lucky." His finger traced lightly down my cheek as he leaned close to whisper in my ear. "But next time? You might not be so lucky."
I squared my shoulders and met his challenge with my own glare. Being who he was didn't intimidate me.
"There won't be a next time," I murmured.
"Shì de, huì yǒu de." (Yes, there will be.)
Kang turned with a triumphant smile and walked away, leaving me with the other two brothers. Chen leaned casually on the lockers, and Yuta stood silent, hands in pockets, unmoving.
I looked between them, voice low but steady. "I did nothing wrong."
Our eyes locked—mine and Yuta's—and my breath caught. His were dark, endless, and utterly soulless.
He approached, eyes scanning me up and down. Then, with a sneer, he shoved past me. "Move out of my way."
I winced as a sharp ache flared in my shoulder, instinctively clutching it. Why had he done that when I hadn't done anything wrong?
I watched him exit behind Kang and muttered, "What's his problem?"
Chen chuckled softly. "Yuta's got no filter or manners."
I scoffed. "He's just rude."
Chen grinned. "I'll tell him you said that. He'll get a kick out of it."
I doubted it.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his black leather jacket and lit one up. "You're our neighbour, right?"
I nodded. "I'm Maggie."
"Maggie." Chen inhaled deeply, then exhaled a plume of smoke. "I'm—"
"I know who you are," I cut him off. Didn't care either.
His face tightened, one brow arching. "You do?"
I shrugged. "Who doesn't? Everyone talks about how good-looking you three are. It's honestly kind of pathetic."
Chen's shoulders dropped, as if relieved by my bluntness. He took another drag. "I didn't know we were famous."
"Famous with the girls, sure."
He smirked. "And you?"
"I honestly don't see the appeal. Couldn't care less who you are."
"Fair enough." Chen laughed. "My brothers will be glad to hear that. Especially Kang—he's a bit of a slut, if you haven't heard."
"About Kang... what did he mean back there?"
Chen waved me off. "None of your business. My brother overreacts sometimes."
Which one?
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "But if Yuta hadn't stopped him, who knows what Kang would've done to you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that concern I hear?"
Chen shrugged as he moved away. "Whatever my brothers get up to is their business. But next time? Just apologize. Makes life a lot easier."
Without another word, he turned and walked through the same doors his brothers had vanished behind.
What the hell just happened?