...
Lance is already standing outside our classroom when our class ended, a black cap on his head and his uniform hanging loosely from his right shoulder.
I must admit, he looks incredibly good. And what do you expect when a guy, particularly one from a well-known boy group at school, is in front of another student's classroom? Right; giggle and whip from other girls. The idea makes me cringe so much. They would probably think twice before falling head over heels for him if they only saw the same boy that I see at home, with all those ridiculous sleeping habits.
I'm just glad that his "admirers" never bothered to ask me about him because that would be annoying. For whatever reason, the students around here only acknowledge him and barely ever notice me.
He smiles when he sees us before he turns to Ice.
He touches his neck awkwardly and says, "Well, let's go!"
Right then and there, I immediately realized how intimidating Ice is. It's clear she has intimidated Lance.
"Where to?" Ice asks, and I swear I see a spark of adoration in his eyes as he turns to face her.
"This way, Miss." The adoring expression never leaves his face.
I now have a skeptical look on my face as I observe Lance. I mentally made a note to ask him a question later.
"Hey, are we allowed to enter the practice room even if it's not for a school activity?" I ask as we are headed to the practice room. I don't want to be caught doing something that is against the school rules; not that I care that much, but if I ever get punished for breaking the rules, I'd want it to be something I am aware of, at least.
He raises his brows and asks, "Says who?" while giving us his free-for-all-to-see smile. I wonder if he ever gets sick of smiling.
I roll my eyes at his remarks. "Cocky."
He simply chuckles and unlocks the door to the practice room. And we all instantly stop as we are greeted by something we don't typically see at school.
Two figures, making out.
Lance tries to cover them by using his school uniform, but that doesn't really help at all: "Woah, get a room, you two." He seems to have recovered from it already.
We, on the other hand, are still startled by the unexpected view. And when the gentleman turned to face us, I nearly dropped my bag.
"But this is a room, though," he says.
Although it seems unpleasant, his deep, monotone voice is nevertheless alluring. His picture-perfect face, which resembles the one in Renoir's paintings, screams perfection. His eyes were empty and cold, but they somehow appeared too exquisite for this world. Although they would have looked better if they had been happier and more vibrant.
The guy gives us a smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes.
Lance responds, "You know what I mean, Rhyme,". Hearing his name confirms that he is present rather than merely a figment of my imagination.
The girl, whose existence I totally forgot, is obviously annoyed at the abrupt halt of their mini-lip buffet. "Let's continue this somewhere else, darling."
The man grins once again. I wonder whether he's aware of how perfectly that snide grin fits him.
"We'll go ahead."
Rhyme.
He, like Lance, is a member of AI. He is talented, intelligent, and stunningly attractive, but unlike Lance, he is a player. He's a genuine jerk.
