Hey, deskmate ; minsung 𖦹

5

Minho kicked a loose pebble down the sidewalk, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets as he stormed through the empty street. The sun was setting, casting long, twisted shadows over the quiet neighborhood, but all Minho could think about was how much he wanted to punch something—or someone.

Jisung.

Even thinking about him made Minho's blood boil. That smug, know-it-all attitude. The way he acted like nothing in the world could bother him, like everything just rolled off his back. Minho hated it. He hated how Jisung always made him feel like he was the one out of control, like he was the problem.

He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. Just hours ago, they'd crossed paths again, like they always seemed to. It didn't matter if it was in school or outside—Jisung was always there, with that stupid calm face, not a hair out of place.

—

It had been just outside the cafe near his neighborhood. Minho was minding his own business, heading to the corner store to grab some snacks before meeting up with Jeongin and Hyunjin. He'd spotted Jisung coming out of the café, holding some fancy iced drink like he didn't have a care in the world.

Minho had felt his blood pressure spike immediately. Of course Jisung would be there, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine, while Minho was stuck in his own endless loop of anger and frustration. And of course, Jisung had to notice him too. That's when it had started.

"Yo, Minho!" Hyunjin had called from behind, spotting the both of them. "Look who it is. Genius boy."

Minho hadn't even been able to stop himself. His frustration had flared up like a lit match. "What the hell are you doing here?" he had barked, storming over to Jisung.

Jisung had looked up, surprised, then gave one of his calm, indifferent shrugs. "Getting coffee. Like anyone else would."

Minho had glared at him, not satisfied with the answer. "Yeah, but why here? Don't you have some books to read or problems to solve? Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

Jisung, as usual, barely reacted. He'd just looked at Minho with that stupid blank expression that made Minho want to scream. "I live around here too, Minho. Just like you."

That had set Minho off. "You act like you're so much better than everyone. You walk around with that look on your face, like nothing bothers you. It's pathetic."

Jisung had just blinked at him. "I'm not trying to act like anything. Maybe you're the one who has a problem with me."

And that had been it. That one line, so calmly delivered, had pushed Minho over the edge. He'd wanted to yell, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, seething, while Jisung just brushed past him like he wasn't even worth the effort.

That was what infuriated Minho the most—the way Jisung made him feel invisible. No matter how much Minho lashed out, no matter how many insults he threw, Jisung never gave him the satisfaction of a real reaction. It was like hitting a brick wall.

Now, days later, Minho was still fuming. He couldn't get the interaction out of his head. Every time he thought about it, the rage bubbled up inside him all over again.

Why can't that bastard ever just... break?

Minho kicked the pebble again, harder this time, sending it skittering across the pavement. He hated feeling like this—like no matter what he did, he was the one left standing there, looking like an idiot, while Jisung walked away, calm and composed as ever.

Everything about Jisung pissed him off. The way the teachers loved him, the way other students admired him, the way he never seemed to mess up. And most of all, the way Jisung didn't seem to give a damn about anything Minho did. It was like Minho didn't even exist in his world, no matter how hard he tried to get under his skin.