Bully for Love
Seon Y/N never meant to laugh at Kim Taehyung in class, but one small slip-up turned into a rivalry that shook her entire school life. Ever since that day, they've been sworn enemies, their every encounter a battlefield of sharp words...
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(Y/N's POV)
The sun was blazing down on the school field, casting a shimmering heatwave that made the day feel even more unbearable. It was Sports Day—a day dreaded by some and eagerly anticipated by others. For me, it fell squarely into the category of dread. This day was all about running, and if you remember, I once said I couldn't outrun a horde of zombies if my life depended on it. Today would be my personal apocalypse.
Mi hi, on the other hand, was in her element. A dancer with boundless energy and an immune system that seemed impervious to everything, she thrived in these physical challenges. She bounced around with her usual exuberance, her ponytail swishing as she chatted animatedly with her friends from her class. Meanwhile, my low iron levels and general aversion to athleticism had me sulking on the sidelines, clutching a bottle of water like a lifeline.
"Why can't they have a competition for sitting still or something?" I grumbled, glaring at the track where the boys' race was about to start. "I'm pretty sure I could win a gold medal in that."
Mi hi laughed, a sound as light and carefree as she felt. "You know, you could always just enjoy the day and cheer for the runners," she suggested, not bothering to hide her amusement at my misery.
I shot her a withering look. "Enjoy the day? We're supposed to run, Mi hi. Run. If I stand up too fast, I get dizzy. This is torture."
She rolled her eyes affectionately. "It's just one day. Try to have a little fun. Look, the boys are getting ready for their race. Let's cheer them on."
A group of girls had already gathered at the edge of the track, their enthusiastic cheers rising in pitch and volume. I glanced over, mildly curious despite myself. The boys from various classes were lining up, and the excitement was palpable.
I spotted Taehyung representing Class II—our class, tying a bandana around his forehead, the gesture simple but somehow commanding attention. He looked effortlessly cool, the way his hair fell just right, the bandana giving him an air of roguish charm, how annoying. The girls nearby squealed in unison, their faces flushed with excitement.
"I have to admit, he is good-looking," Mi hi said, nudging me with her elbow. "Even if he does turn your neighborhood into a constant rave."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't entirely disagree. Taehyung had that magnetism that drew people to him whether he was strutting down the hallways or causing nightly disturbances next door. His presence was larger than life, and despite my best efforts, it was hard to remain indifferent to his charisma.
Next to Taehyung stood Jimin representing Class III, his lean frame exuding a different kind of appeal. Where Taehyung was all confidence and swagger, Jimin was grace and precision. He adjusted his own headband, his expression focused, eyes scanning the track with a determination that spoke volumes about his competitive spirit.
Two other guys from our grade rounded out the lineup, each looking equally prepared for the race. The starting gun was about to go off, and the anticipation was building. Even I felt a slight thrill of excitement, despite my general disdain for the day's events.
