one.

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CHAPTER ONE
Opportunity Strikes
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I arrived at my apartment door and sighed.

I was so done with school.

My mind traced back to the numerous times my dad would tell me, 'Son, school is important. Education is the only way you can get a job and a stable life. Don't waste your opportunities.'

I scoffed at the thought and brushed it off.

While school was made for 'learning', it's the people and topics in it that pretty much determine your level of engagement.

And ladies and gents, that right there is the exact reason on why I have zero focus in class.

Uninteresting subjects; boring teachers. And most of all, the students who try way too hard to uphold a stupid social standing and reps and all that utter bullshit just to try and look good.

And who would be a great example for that other than the fakes, who are pretty much 99.9 percent of my female peers in a nutshell. Also most notoriously known for using all of their stupid aegyo just to get a chance to kiss the asses of their superiors.

I can't even count how many of those who come up to me.

They'd be all shy, looking down at the ground and rambling the dreaded sentence of, 'Oh, oppa! I like you very much. I enjoy your company a lot, so will you please take me out?'

I will admit, it's pretty intimidating to see how straightforward they are with their words.

They go lengths just to end up making a fool of themselves. Kind of pathetic, if you ask me.

But I guess I'll give them credit on how much nerve they have to do that.

I then unlocked the door and walked in, taking my shoes off and kicking them to the side.

I entered into the living room.

Suddenly, I froze in place.

I was met with the sight of my father; his arms were crossed, standing with a stern expression. My mother stood behind him with a nervous smile.

My eyes widened at the item my dad was gripping tightly in his hand- a folder with my school's crest on the front.

Fuck.

"Ah, Min Yoongi! You're finally here. Care to explain this?"

I ought to rip that thing in half.

"What's that?" I asked, trying to play off a clueless look.

He sighed heavily. "Your report card. And again, forty percent and below- straight for all subjects. What a shock."

I stood there silently, trying to maintain a relaxed posture.

He walked around me. "Do you not care at all? About this- your education? Anything?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head. "Not really."

He stopped abruptly in front of me for a moment. Suddenly, he angrily slapped my face hard with the folder. I winced and rubbed my face at the pain.

He whacked my hand off and stared straight at me.

"LISTEN UP! This here, is your future. And if you don't try and pass, then you are going to end up on the streets. And soon, you will be crying out to your mother and I about how broke and regretful you are for not doing well in school, and all I'm going to tell you is that you chose that path for yourself and that I'm not going to pick up after you anymore. So unless you change your attitude, you're going to be struggling on your own. You hear?"

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