"Good Morning, Mother."
Mingyu stiffly greeted the woman at the table. Her unwavering glare and the ever-stoic expression bore into Mingyu. Kim Minkyoung never spared him a glance, especially in the mornings, and Mingyu knew he was fucked the moment his eyes caught hers.
Mingyu took a seat at his designated chair – the one all the way on the opposite end of where his mother sat. The plate set in front of him nearly blended into the white, marble tabletop, but the breakfast plated in it made the crockery stand out painfully, and the contents made him gag. He gingerly picked his fork up from the napkin, and stabbed the disgusting slab of haggis, poorly decked with an unnecessary amount of garnishing; like it would ever make it taste better.
The atmosphere seemed tense. It was always that way, but it was worse that morning. Mingyu reluctantly shoved the fork in his mouth, toying with the remainder of his breakfast on the plate.
The maids and butlers had their heads hung low, as they spared no glances anywhere else except their shoes. There would usually have been the white noise of the kitchen being cleared up as Mingyu ate his way through breakfast, but it was dead-silent.
Mingyu's day already looked cursed. He hadn't slept well last night; he remembered a pounding headache, not knowing what had caused it. Could it have been the extraordinary amount of coffee he drank last night?
He felt like crawling out of his skin and escaping from the house – it was extremely uncomfortable sitting across from his mother. He hadn't even completed the work he was supposed to hand in, and he couldn't afford to not hand it in altogether. That would make Jeon Wonwoo's day something for him to talk about proudly – and Mingyu would never, in a million years, let that happen.
The only way he had, to get the assignment done before his class, was by reaching university just about thirty minutes earlier than he usually did, so he could finish it off in an empty classroom. Discreetly glancing down at the Philippe Dufour gleaming on his right wrist, Mingyu calculated he would be walking in through Pledis' gates just in time to finish the assignment, if he left the house within the next ten minutes, and if his chauffeur agreed to speed the car just a bit.
And he could only do that by making up a lie, right away, to feed his mother.
"Mother, I think it slipped my mind to inform you yesterday, I have some matters regarding the extracurricular clubs to be discussed with a professor this morning. He advised me to meet him a bit earlier today, since he gets busy for the remainder of the day."
Well, it wasn't a complete lie; Mingyu was supposed to consult Professor Choi about the theatre club during the week. He just didn't have a deadline for it.
"Which professor, may I ask?"
Shit. Mingyu hadn't expected his mother to speak. She usually replied with a nod, hum or a disapproving grunt.
"Professor Choi, Mother."
"Your Human Resources professor?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Go ahead. I shall inform your chauffeur."
"Thank you, Mother." Mingyu bowed, and tried not to skip on the way to his bedroom upstairs. His mother's voice made him halt on his way. He turned around to face her.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Have you got no proper manners?" She pointed to his backpack on the wide couch. Mingyu wondered how she even saw it shoved somewhere on the far end of the couch.
"I apologise, Mother. This won't happen again." Mingyu bowed once again, grabbed his things, and resumed his journey upstairs.
Mingyu was relieved when he saw there was barely anyone around on the campus in the morning – it was a bit too early for everyone to arrive. His chauffeur opened the door for him – something Mingyu itched to do by himself often, but he stepped out anyway.
He was strictly instructed not to indulge in small talk with any of their servants and helpers. Since all of them were one step away from licking his mother's feet, Mingyu kept silent at all times. "We do not mingle with people unlike our kind," his mother's words had been deeply ingrained in his brain for the longest time.
Mingyu jogged to the building, poising himself as soon as he entered. Several strands of his hair stuck in front of his eyes, and he deftly parted them back to the way they were supposed to be once he was inside.
Mingyu took the elevator to his first classroom for the day, and peeked through the little glass window on the door to check whether it's empty or not. To his relief, it was. Or so he thought.
Mingyu stepped inside the air-conditioned room, eyes darting to the very last desks. He regretted it immediately. The class was not empty, after all.
It was Jeon Wonwoo making out with some guy against the back wall of the classroom.
Mingyu stumbled against the front desk, making the boys snap their heads in his direction. Wonwoo's first reaction was to send a scowl in Mingyu's way. The other boy dashed outside the classroom instantly, leaving Mingyu alone with a pleased looking Wonwoo.
"Are we jealous?" Wonwoo sneered, disgust playing in his eyes.
Mingyu scoffed, and walked up to Wonwoo, near the desk he usually sat at. He pulled Wonwoo out of the way, holding his tie with one hand, and reclaimed his spot.
"Last time I checked, classrooms were meant to study, Jeon. Get away."
Wonwoo snorted. "Sorry for breaking the rules, which I suppose you made, Kim."
He grabbed his things, and walked away, quietly buttoning a few undone buttons on his shirt on the way.
Mingyu checked the time on his watch; fuck, he had lesser time now. All because of Jeon fucking Wonwoo. "Never mind him, Mingyu," he muttered to himself, pulling his books out of his backpack.
It made his day a bit better when he got it done, finally, before the professor could enter the class and begin rambling.
