In a world where wealth whispers power and privilege shields malice, Chester Yoon glides through life like a shadow -charming, careless, and irresistibly dangerous. The son of one of the world's most untouchable dynasties, he embodies the phrase "Yo...
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3rd P.O.V. THE CLASSROOM door clicked shut, leaving behind a hushed space filled with the remnants of the teacher's voice, still echoing in the corners like a fading melody. Chester unzipped his bag, he fished out his earphones and phone, the lifelines to a world far removed from the mundane walls of the classroom.
As he plugged in the connector, the first notes of a classical symphony enveloped him, wrapping around his senses like a calm embrace. It was as if the music had beckoned him to a different realm—a place where harmonies danced and imagination took flight.
Although, he had struggled to adapt since arriving in this unfamiliar place, a patchwork of strange faces and alien customs. The irritation he felt earlier in the day, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface, had begun to dissipate as the music intertwined with the words on the page. Each turn of the sentence began to paint a vivid image in his mind, one that offered him solace and escape.
Chester's father had made it clear, this move was meant to teach him discipline, to instill a sense of responsibility. But Chester was determined to prove that he could pretend to have changed, to foo. his father that he was not the troublemaker of yesteryear. He envisioned a future back in England, where he could roam the familiar streets, hang out with whomever he wanted, and escape the confines of this new life. Each note of the symphony seemed to echo his resolve, urging him to work harder, to adapt, to transform.
Chester was drifting blissfully through the pages of his book when his tranquil world shattered. Without warning, a hand reached out and unplugged his left earphone. The sudden silence jolted him back to reality, snapping the delicate thread of his reverie. Instinctively, he grabbed the wrist of the intruder, his initial reaction a mix of mellow frustration and confusion.
But as he turned to confront the culprit, his gaze met that of a girl with striking features. She had black shoulder-length hair that curled gently against her skin, framing her face like a delicate portrait. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, and a blush crept across her cheeks, turning her fair skin into a canvas of soft pink.
Chester's irritation faded as he noticed her reaction. He quickly released her wrist, the warmth of her skin lingering in his memory. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice softer now, an apologetic smile breaking through his earlier annoyance.
"It's alright, there's no need to be sorry for silly things like that," she replied, her playful tone easing the tension in the air. There was a lightness in her words, a sparking charm. "I'm Zoe Park, by the way," she added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her other arm resting casually behind her back. The tilt of her head revealed a side of her face that was almost ethereal.
Chester flashed Zoe an eye smile. "Nice to meet you, Zoe," he said, his voice smooth like the music that had just moments ago filled his ears. He stretched out his left arm for a handshake, and she grasped his hand, their fingers intertwining for a brief moment that felt electric to Zoe.
