𝐖𝐇𝐘? ━━ 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗟 𝗛𝗜𝗧 | ✓

15

❝ BUT STRAWBERRIES AND CIGARETTES ALWAYS TASTE LIKE YOU ! ❞

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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡︎♡︎♡︎

OUT OF IMPULSE and probably to rebel against my father, I had dyed my hair green. It was bright and proud, intentionally standing out amongst the crowd of adults that always surrounded me whenever I'm at home, easy to spot in a wave filled with kids my age running around with their friends.

It was slightly hotter than usual, I would've endured it and waited for Yeonwoo at the gates of his school but he isn't going to be out for the next forty minutes. Being dismissed early was both an advantage and disadvantage for me. On one hand, it was good for me since I can always catch Yeonwoo, on the other it was bad since I have to wait an awful amount of time for him to go out if his class.

The school that I'm currently in right now is Hyeoksun Private Middle School, it's meant for the elite students and the richest families — I was supposed to be studying in Japan but my father wanted to keep a closer eye on me. It was just my luck that I was adopted by someone of a status nearing royalty and was given the chance to study in this prestigious school. Most of the competitive students here fought tooth and nail just to get themselves a spot in the higher sections, while those who were unfortunate end up in the more rowdy area.

I was meant to be placed in the second to last section — call it the remedial class if you will — because of my common disobedience to other teachers and how most people avoided me, but it seems my father had a tight connection with the principal and thus placed me in the highest section — where the brats were.

Ever since I started schooling, I began to develop a certain hatred for the pampered rich kids — with the exemption of those who were true and genuine, those who were hesitant but still gave me a smile — it wasn't because they kept competing with me or anything like that, although it is part of the reason why I disliked them even more, but because of their nasty attitude and their mindset that nothing and nobody could be better than them.

Of course, I was no better than them. I was given the things I wanted, fed me and dressed me well, but I was also taught to achieve more than anyone else. I was taught that what I've achieved now should be surpassed by myself in the future, even if it's impossible or too much. I can't exactly say that my thoughts are justified but with the way the other kids acted, it makes me think otherwise.

From kindergarten and now in middle school, I brought with me my hatred for the rich, smart kids. Then I stumbled upon a rich, smart kid named Ji Yeonwoo — he was everything I could hate. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, more than enough brains to see reality at an early age, and just my luck that he had a strong personality with a gentle smile.

How did I even end up here? How did I somehow like him so suddenly? How come I've spent half a year with him already without even noticing?

And how come I'm now standing in front of his father as he introduced me to him?

Yeonwoo's father looked like any other strict parent that only cared about their family's reputation instead of their well-being. A tight-lipped smile, neat hair, beady eyes with distrust and distaste swimming in them. I only gave him a nod and a dry greeting.

"T—This is [Name] Yashida." Yeonwoo spoke up, slightly lifting the tension up. It was getting a bit awkward since his father has been staring at my hair and uniform — I didn't bother wearing my necktie or sweater vest, it's too hot anyway.

Mister Ji wasn't that great in hiding his emotions, the way his eyes lit up by the mention of my last name was too evident. It also didn't help his case that he quickly let the both of us in — he even offered me some juice but I declined every type that he'd mention and told him I wanted tea instead.

I mostly grew up drinking tea and coffee, mostly from my father's men who'd look after me while he's away. They really have no experience in taking care of a child.

As I took a sip from my tea, my eyes wandered over the many achievements hung on the wall, all from Yeonwoo. His father always stood beside him in pictures and the way he had such a strained smile told me that he was, in a way, the same as me.

"Your father seems strict." I hummed, letting out a soft sigh then taking another sip of my drink.

"Are your parents strict too?" He had asked, perhaps out of curiosity. I haven't introduced him to my father nor any of the men that always chased after me whenever I'd escape them. He's bound to throw questions as time passed by.

"My father is." I muttered, soft enough for him to hear.

We really are the same, yet so different as well. Our childhood memories are filled with nothing but the lack of tenderness from our fathers yet we have each other, a friendship that was meant to keep ourselves company.

"Always do what you love." I whispered once more as the taste of bitterness from the thoughts and feelings and from the cup of tea in my hands.

Saying that made me doubt if that was supposed to be for Yeonwoo or if it was for me. Either way, I hoped that the message hidden within my words have reached him.