The bell rang, the end of morning classes, cutting through the murmur of Hanseong High. Lockers slammed shut. Laughter spilled through the corridors as students filled the halls as doors opened. Shoes squeaked against the polished floors.
Jungtae stretched, arms high above his head. The ache in his shoulders hadn't gone away since dawn.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?" Woojin's tone carried quiet concern.
Jungtae grinned, rubbing at his eyes. "Just a few hours. Hanna Noona always dumps all the heavy boxes on me again to sort."
Woojin sighed, that soft frown of his that never reached anger, just worry.
"You're going to collapse one of these days. Seriously. You don't have to work every night. You should quit that job before you burn out."
"And let my mom handle everything alone? Grandpa needs his medicine right now, you know that."
The words came out sharper than he meant. Silence fell between them. Jungtae regretted the sharpness in his voice immediately.
Jungtae exhaled, gaze dropping. "Sorry. I just… can't."
Woojin's shoulders eased. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry also for telling you to quit. Just, don't carry it all by yourself. If you need any help, ask me. Ok?"
Jungtae nodded with a faint smile. "Thank you, Woojin."
The hallway buzzed louder as they turned around the corner. Whispers drifted to the air, every voice murmuring the same name.
Owen.
He leaned against the wall near his classroom, surrounded by laughter.
Shirt untucked, tie loose, collar open, charm wrapped in elegance and confidence. His smirk was mischievous, practiced, and dangerous. His presence stood out through the crowd.
A few girls giggled as they passed. One even dropped her notebook while looking at Owen.
Woojin chuckled under his breath, eyeing Owen. "Transferred here last week and already half the school is ready to worship him."
Jungtae rolled his eyes. "They're acting like he's some celebrity. Some girls were literally asking for his autograph. And some are acting like servants. "
"Wouldn't surprise me if they started wiping his shoes next," Woojin said, smiling. "At least you're not affected?"
"Why would I be?" Jungtae scoffed. "He looks like trouble."
Woojin's expression softened, relief flickering behind his eyes. "Good. Stay away from him."
Jungtae didn't answer. He didn't need to.
The day dragged on until the final bell rang, exhaustion had settled deep in his bones. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked beside Woojin toward the gates.
Across the street, they spotted an old man slumped against the wall. Torn clothes, hollow eyes, his trembling hands and held out.
"Spare some change… please." The old man rasped, voice hoarse from hunger.
Jungtae stopped, pulling his wallet without hesitation. He pressed a few bills into the man's shaking hand. "Here, buy something to fill your stomach, okay?"
The man's eyes watered. He bowed, over and over, whispering thanks.
Woojin frowned. "Jungtae. That was your allowance for the next few days."
"It's fine," Jungtae said, smiling weakly. "I'll survive on cup noodles. Hehe."
Woojin sighed, smile looked strained but then softened, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You give too much for others. Save a little for yourself too."
"Okay, okay. Don't worry. " Jungtae simply laughed, brushing his hand away.
A few minutes later. They reached the corner where they usually parted.
"Gotta go to work," Jungtae said. Adjusting the strap of his bag.
"Want me to walk you there?"
"Nah. Just finish our homework so you can teach me tomorrow."
Woojin hesitated then smiled, giving in. "Fine. Text me when you're home."
"Yeah, yeah. Bye."
Jungtae jogged off towards the convenience store. The bright glow of the convenience store's neon sign greeted him a few minutes later.
"Finally, my savior's here!" Hanna Noona called from behind the counter, tossing him a uniform vest.
Jungtae caught it midair and slipped it on. "Go home before your boyfriend starts another fight."
She laughed, swatted his arm, and gathered her things. "Don't overwork, kid. Eat something real tonight."
"Yes. I'll be fine. Noona," Jungtae said, smiling.
ৎ────
By ten p.m., fatigue had carved deep lines beneath his eyes, feet ached. He clocked out, bought a bunch of rice cakes from a small bakery, and headed home through quiet streets.
The house was quiet when he slipped inside. His mother's snores hummed softly through the door. She'd over worked herself at the laundry shop again.
Jungtae tiptoed into his grandfather's room. The old man lay curled beneath the blankets, breathing faint but steady.
Jungtae placed the rice cakes beside the bed, then lifted the bottle of pills. Only a few rattled inside.
His chest tightened.
"Don't worry, Grandpa," he whispered, brushing the man's frail hand. "I'll buy more soon." before slipping out.
In the kitchen, he gulped down a glass of water and dragged himself to his tiny room. Sleep took him before his thoughts could.
ৎ────
The next morning, Woojin was waiting outside his gate, that familiar patient smile on his face.
"Morning," Jungtae said, slipping on his shoes. And said goodbye to his mother and grandpa.
"Good morning." Woojin replied.
ৎ────
They walked to school together, blending into the morning crowd.
Then Jungtae's steps faltered.
Owen stood by his classroom doorway again, gaze cutting through the noise. Their eyes met, and something unspoken, sharp, weird, and electric passed between them.
"Hey." Owen's voice was low, and teasing.
Jungtae stopped. "...What?"
Owen straightened and walked closer until the air between them felt too small.
"Wanna play with me?" Owen's eyes glimmered with mischief.
Jungtae frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Han Jungtae, right?" Owen's eyes looked at Jungtae up and down. "How'd you even get into this school?"
"None of your damn business."
Owen chuckled, tilting his head. "Feisty. I like that." and stroked his chin.
The passing students slowed down to watch. Whispers stirred.
"What?" Eyebrows furrowed. Jungtae snapped.
Before Owen could respond, Woojin stepped in front between them, voice calm but cold. "That's enough."
The tension stretched until the bell rang. A teacher appeared, shooing everyone to their classrooms.
Owen smirked, retreating to his seat like nothing happened.
Jungtae exhaled hard, jaw tight. Trying to calm down the irritation burning in his chest.
ৎ────
By lunch, the irritation had faded, not until he reached the restroom.
Pushing the restroom door, it wouldn't budge. Knocked once. The door wouldn't open. Faint noises came from inside.
"Hey! Open up!" Jungtae called, knocking harder.
The door creaked, and the student council president stumbled out. His collar was high, face flushed, red marks trailing down his pale neck. He didn't meet Jungtae's eyes. Just bolted down the hall without a word.
Confused, Jungtae pushed the door wider.
And froze…
Owen leaned against the sink, shirt half-open, hair disheveled. His lips curved into that same infuriating smirk.
"Well, well," he drawled. "If it isn't Han Jungtae."
Jungtae blinked. "You again?! What the hell were you doing?"
"None of your concern." Owen stepped closer, his footsteps slow.
He stopped close enough for Jungtae to feel his breath.
"But since you're here…" he murmured, leaning slightly closer, "wanna join next time?"
Jungtae's face burned. "Are you insane?!"
Owen chuckled, brushing past him, their shoulders barely touching. "Relax. I like to keep my options open."
Jungtae spun around, fists clenched, heart hammering. But Owen was already gone, laughter echoing down the hall slow and strange.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway. Eyebrows furrowed.
His pulse refused to slow.
And deep down, an uneasy thought crept in…
Trouble had a name. And it was Owen.