Fabricated World

Chapter 1

"Rikka Lee, I am not finished talking to you yet! Get back here this instant!"

I roll my eyes as I hurried out of the classroom, ignoring my teacher's demands. In my right hand I clutched my finals, which carried a big, ugly, red F. Apparently, I'm failing my calculus class and my calculus teacher, Mr. Park wants me to repeat the year.

I scoff as I remembered his words.

"I honestly don't understand how you're the sister of Yuri and Kim Lee, the top students at Hamji High School. With grades this low... have you no shame?"

I neared the lady's bathroom and my irritation grew stronger. Darting inside, I entered one of the empty stalls and held my test paper over the toilet. Then I started ripping it into shreds; I couldn't have given more than a crap about my grades. I thought about my older siblings, Yuri and Kim. Yuri was the eldest, posing as the daughter who gets the best grades and the best reputation. Kim was no different, either. Although she was more of a social butterfly, Kim didn't bat an eyelash at her academics and still managed to remain at the top of her class.

Me, on the other hand, was more of an outcast. I didn't care about my grades or what my classmates/teachers thought of me. I just wanted to do what I wanted to do, going about my life with a carefree, nonchalant personality. As hard as I tried to be 'good', my parents never recognized me at the level of my sisters. They keep telling me to take things more seriously. I mean -- I am taking things seriously -- at least in my own way. I've been arguing for practically my entire life that you couldn't change someone to be someone they're not. You just couldn't, it was downright impossible. And being born into an Asian family didn't help much either. There's always this pressure about being the best just because we're 'asian'. Psh.

Screw you, stereotypes.

I sighed in satisfaction when the toilet sounded a flush. I buried my fists into my hoodie pockets and turned around to face my reflection in the mirror. A girl with large brown eyes and bleached blonde hair stared back at me, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. She wore a dark varsity jacket with Hamji High School's logo sewn right beneath the collarbone, and the school's uniform underneath: a plain dress-shirt with a red tie and a plaid skirt with matching dress shoes.

I stared with my lips twisted into a slight frown. Well. This was what I was. I was the rebel of Hamji High. Amidst all the nerds and the study freaks attending this school, I stood out like a sore thumb.

I ran my fingers through my thick hair and exited the bathroom, not wanting to wait any longer to get home. Today was the last day of school, and I was more excited than any giddy child to escape out of this building. I snatched my bag from my locker and hurried out of the school grounds.

Students were gathered in groups and taking photos, just spamming that button mercilessly. I weaved my way out of the crowds and entered an isolated aisle. It was a shortcut to the train station where I could catch my ride home.

As I walked down the narrow passage, I heard footsteps behind me. I grumbled something to myself before turning around and crossing my arms.

"What do you want?" I asked cooly, facing them with a menacing glare.

Two boys stood there, returning my scowl. Their arms were crossed as they shot me intimidating gazes.

"Rikka Lee," they growled, approaching me. "It would be nice if you cooperated and came with us."

"Hell no." I replied bluntly, squinting my eyes. "I already told you once. I'm not doing it. Now shoo."

"Please! We need you, the almighty Rikka from Hamji High!" they pleaded. "You're the only one fit to be our leader! With you, our gang will be unstoppable!"