kidnapper's protection | seongjoong

3

Seonghwa walked through the campus halls like a ghost—noticed but not acknowledged. Conversations and laughter buzzed around him, groups of friends huddling close, talking about weekend parties or study plans. He didn't slow down or try to make eye contact. It was always easier that way.

As usual, people stared. They always did. Some with quiet sneers, others with blank curiosity, and a few with smug glances that reeked of judgment. His long hair swayed behind him like a silk curtain, and the cropped sweater he wore—white, with the word Angel embroidered in delicate black letters—only made the whispers louder.

"Why does he even try to look like that?"
"Is he doing it for attention?"
"No wonder his parents hate him."

The words weren't loud enough to be confrontational, just loud enough to stick. Seonghwa kept his face neutral, same as always, but each passing comment added weight to the pit in his stomach. He felt their stares scrape along his skin, as if they expected his appearance to be some sort of joke.

Despite it all, he kept walking. No slouch in his shoulders. No falter in his steps. Let them look.

His next lecture was no different from the others. He entered the room just as the professor started distributing graded assignments. The man shot him a glance—disapproval clear as day—before slapping the paper onto Seonghwa's desk. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that look, and it wouldn't be the last.

Seonghwa glanced at the paper: 99/100. A small red "Excellent Work" was scrawled in the corner. But the words felt hollow, tainted by the judgment in the professor's eyes, as if even praise had to come reluctantly.

From behind him, Seonghwa heard faint snickers from his classmates.

"Bet he flirts with the professors to get those grades," someone muttered, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to avoid trouble.

"Can't be that smart and dress like that," another voice chimed in.

Seonghwa clenched his jaw but didn't turn around. There was no point. It didn't matter what they said—he could ace every test, win every award, and still, they'd only see him as a spectacle. A waste.

When class ended, Seonghwa stuffed the graded paper into his bag without ceremony and made a beeline for the door, ignoring the sidelong glances that followed him.

As he walked out of the lecture hall, he spotted Wooyoung waiting by the benches outside, kicking at a pebble with a lazy grin on his face. The sight alone was a breath of fresh air—one of the few things that didn't make Seonghwa feel like he was suffocating.

The moment Wooyoung saw him, his grin widened. "There's my favorite person!"

Seonghwa gave a faint smile in return, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Wooyoung tilted his head, immediately noticing the subtle change in Seonghwa's expression. "Hey...what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Seonghwa answered, too quickly.

Wooyoung wasn't buying it. "Did one of your professors give you that look again?"

Seonghwa shrugged. "All of them do."

Wooyoung's playful demeanor softened as he studied his friend. "You know it's not your fault, right? You're brilliant, hyung. It's not your problem if they're too narrow-minded to see past...well, all this." He gestured vaguely toward Seonghwa's outfit.

Seonghwa exhaled through his nose, half amused by Wooyoung's attempt to cheer him up. "Thanks, Woo."

"Hey, don't just 'thanks' me like that. I mean it!" Wooyoung leaned in, bumping his shoulder against Seonghwa's. "You're out here killing it, and I love you for that. And anyone who doesn't see how amazing you are? Losers. Straight-up losers."

Seonghwa huffed a small laugh, more out of habit than amusement. "You should get a job as a motivational speaker."

"Well, why else do you think I study law?" Wooyoung grinned, throwing an arm casually over Seonghwa's shoulder as they started walking together. "But seriously, don't let them get in your head. You've got me, remember? And I think you're perfect."

Seonghwa didn't reply right away. He just let Wooyoung's words sit with him, a small comfort in an otherwise exhausting day.

As they reached the courtyard, Seonghwa gave Wooyoung a pat on the back. "I'm heading home."

Wooyoung pouted dramatically. "Already? Boo. Who am I supposed to annoy now?"

"You'll figure it out." Seonghwa smirked slightly, though his tone stayed light.

"Fine," Wooyoung sighed, watching as Seonghwa walked away. But just before Seonghwa disappeared around the corner, Wooyoung called out, "Text me when you get home, okay?"

Seonghwa gave him a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah."

Wooyoung stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip. He knew Seonghwa too well—the sadness might not have shown on his face, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface.

"One of these days," Wooyoung whispered to himself, "the world's gonna wake up and see what I see."