Meet a typical teenager- Yu Bora
she thinks she has it all, with her rich and cool dad, a principal who doubles as her father's friend (and the ultimate "cool princi"), her soulmate aka best friend - Min-hee, and the love in the form of the strictn...
BOOMER - is typically used as a dismissive or sarcastic response to older people, particularly baby boomers, who are perceived as being out of touch with modern attitudes and culture.
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"YOU?" I ask, pointing at him eagerly. He barely acknowledges me, just pulling out one of his AirPods and diverting his gaze elsewhere, engrossed in scribbling some equations in his notebook—ones that I despise.
"I don't know you" he brushes me off, slipping the AirPod back into his ear. Rude, much? But then I realize it's actually Taehyung.
"Oh, You're Taehyung, the one who turned down Yuna, right?" I exclaim, a rush of excitement coloring my words, but he continues to act as though I'm invisible. "Seriously, am I invisible to you or something? Why won't you talk to me?" I press on.
Leaning in, I pluck one of his AirPods out and whisper, "You're... my tutor, aren't you?" He jerks his head up suddenly, his expression caught off guard. Our faces are too close for comfort, and I instinctively step back. He, however, remains rooted to his spot, his expression still unreadable.
"Could you, I don't know, just shut up and sit down?" he finally speaks up, his voice low but carrying a sharp edge that makes me feel scolded. He pops his AirPod back in, the rudeness is loud and clear. I decide to drop it, taking a seat across from him and resting my head on my hand, watching him intently as he continues to jot down notes in his notebook.
I'm captivated by his striking facial features. His gaze unexpectedly meets mine, causing me to jolt and nearly lose my balance, my elbows slipping on the desk. I catch myself just in time, averting the embarrassment of face-planting onto the table.
He possesses an almost divine allure, his handsome features accentuated by the subtle framing of reading glasses perched on his nose. I find myself unable to resist admiring him, feeling the urge to capture his remarkable appearance in a photograph.
"Stop staring," he ordered. It wasn't a question or statement but a firm command. Unknowingly, I obeyed and looked away. It seemed pointless to have such attractive features with such a rude tone.
As he finished his work and pulled out his AirPods, tidying his books, his eyes met mine. I pretended to be engrossed in his online profile, noticing his sparse posts and selective following contrasted against his numerous followers. The silence between us stretched, broken only by the subtle sound of his throat clearing, a cue for me to initiate conversation. And I didn't mind.
"Hi, I'm Bora," I introduced myself, hoping to break the tension. "Ms. Han mentioned I might need some help with math and physics, but that's not the whole picture. I'm actually pretty strong in other subjects. It's just... numbers and formulas, you know? They feel so arbitrary. Why complicate things when they could be straightforward? why manipulate numbers when they can be easily counted and Physics, especially, just seems to—"
