A Beautiful Butterfly

Chapter 1

It was only a five-minute walk from the dorm to the university building. Still never having been late for any of the classes and never wanting to, Jinyoung quickened his walk, his eyes avoiding anyone's gaze.

His full name was Park Jinyoung. If anyone asked him where he was from, he would proudly say 'Jinhae', just the thought of which brought painful nostalgia to him. But since he had been here in Seoul, no one but his roommate had shown personal interest in him and asked him. In fact, he had never talked intimately with anyone but his roommate since his first day here in Seoul.

If not for his highschool teacher, who had urged him to study here and helped him apply for the scholarship and for his grandparents, who wanted to see him graduate from a university in this big city, he would have happily remained in his hometown, dreaming of becoming a seaman or a deck officer as his father had been.

Even after two months, he could not say he was getting used to the bustling sights of this city and the sea of students on the campus, who seemed, to him, much more brilliant than him.

Maybe, one of the basic reasons why he could not just easily adapt to this new neighbourhood was the judging looks he received at his appearance. He had not a bit of a common metropolitan boy look.

His long hair that reached the shoulders was one thing which caught others' attention. It would not have been a problem if that long hair had been styled for an appropriate look. But he had never been to a salon in his life. Either his grandmother or he, himself, would trim his hair, as they saw fit.

The long, uneven, and roughly cut bangs covered his forehead, which gave him a messy look, although he was not at all a messy boy. Someone who was cruel enough would call him ugly, simply because his heap of hair, which hid most of his features, was an eyesore.

His clothes, mostly flannel shirts and sweaters, which were either sewed and knitted by his grandmother or brought by her from the local market in Jinhae, were another thing that raised several eyebrows, because they, for sure, were not of things a city boy would wear on a daily basis.

But who could blame him? He had been raised in an old-fashioned household and by the elderly grandparents alone. But Jinyoung had never complained about his life situations, except when he longed for his mother, who he had never seen alive, and his father, who had passed away when he had been twelve. In fact, he was happy in his life - in their cozy home in Jinhae.

His first class was World History and there were only a few people seated in the classroom when he got there. He took his usual seat, which was at the back of the classroom and he had chosen for a particular reason.

A group of girls in the middle of the room were talking about some famous idols and aside from himself, there was only another boy, who was playing games on his phone, at one corner of the room.

There was no one he could talk to in this classroom nor in any for that matter. He was fine, anyway, as long as they did not insult him in his face.

But there was one exception. Someone he really wanted to talk to and get to know, although he was sure he would never get such chance.

Soon, more students came in. One of them was the person, who had made Jinyoung's days a little better and a little more endurable. Who his eyes wandered to in between the lessons. Who he felt, without having ever talked to, familiar to because he had both unintentionally and intentionally, observed that person's every move.

But familiarity aside, he knew nothing about that person, apart from the name 'Mark Tuan'. Maybe, he had exaggerated a little by saying 'nothing'. He knew Mark was a 'History' major student just like him and had two friends namely 'Jaebum' and 'Jackson', who he was with most of the time.