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"i like to listen. i have learned a great deal from listening carefully. most people never listen."
— Ernest Hemingway —
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[ 3RD PERSONS VIEW。]
Heavy breathing accompanied by droplets of sweat. The purple haired boy panted as he jolted up his seat. A nightmare haunted him every time he shut his eyes closed. "I– I didn't do it!" he yelled out, earning glances from his classmates.
His eyes were shaking, hands were trembling. Whispers broke out in the room, making his state become more worse.
Tears on the brink of falling, he sucked in some air, hastily uttering a few words, "I didn't do it."
"Who would even believe a boy like him?"
"Wasn't his father a murderer?"
"Anger issues."
"He obviously did it. Wasn't he so irritated at Haruki when they first met?"
"Ugh, he should just shut up."
Swallowing the thick lump, he bit his lip down hard, more tears threatening to fall. He then heard older voices and the sound of running footsteps from afar. The door to their classroom slams open, the known eleventh grader art boy stepped in with a few companions.
Seeing his friend being tortured by rumors made his heart ache. "Donghyuck–"
The teenage boy flinches at the voice, looking up slowly, he met with his friend's tired eyes, "Renjun?" he laughed, sounding a bit hollow and empty, "It's been a week, huh?"
"Shut up. Look at you! You're letting them get to you."
"Who am I to even tell them off? They won't listen to me anyways." Donghyuck spat, teeth slowly ripping his lips the more harder he bit down. "It's always the good guys people listen to... unlucky me, I don't fit in that category."
Renjun sighed and stretched out his hand. Donghyuck furrowed his brows, eyeing his friend's hand, "What?"
The woman beside Renjun suddenly stepped in between them, "I wish to have a word with you boys privately, Mr. Lee."
