SUNGHOON.

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     I have amazing hair.

     That's not just a humble brag—it's a fact. It's soft, it's shiny, silky, and most importantly, it never fails me. Of course, I take care of it. Who wouldn't? Any sane person would.

     So, like any other normal morning, I get up, take a shower, put on deodorant (again, like any sane person should do), and pull on my perfectly ironed uniform. The usual.

     As I move toward my desk, I glance at my reflection in the mirror, taking a mental note of my Innisfree hair products lined up like a sacred ritual. If I didn't use them properly, the universe might collapse.

     I reach for the hair serum. It's just a serum. A normal, everyday serum... but as my fingers hover over the bottle, a thought creeps in.

     What if this thing grows teeth and bites me?

     I'm not usually paranoid about anything, but today, something about all these products feels... off.

     I stare at the label, and then, of course, I hear her voice. Haeun's voice.

     "I bet he spends hours in the mirror every morning, making sure every strand is in place."

     What?

     Okay, sure, maybe I spend a little more time than average on my hair, but not hours—I think. That would be... excessive. Probably.

     I let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to shake the thought. It's fine. It's normal. Everyone takes care of their hair, right?

     I twist the cap of the bottle, pulling the pipette out. But just as I'm about to squeeze some into my palm, I freeze.

     "I hope it all just turns into white phosphorus."

     What the hell?

     The words echo in my mind, and suddenly, I'm looking at this bottle like it's a ticking time bomb. I slam it down onto my table and shuffle back cautiously, ready to duck at any moment.

     But eventually, I gather the courage and unscrew the cap again, half-expecting the bottle to explode in a cloud of white smoke or something. Carefully, I place a paper towel on the desk, and with all the grace of someone who's never touched a serum before, I squeeze a few drops onto it.

     The paper towel doesn't disintegrate. The table doesn't combust.

     I let out a massive sigh of relief. For a second, I just stand there, staring at the towel, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

     Then it hits me.

     This is ridiculous.

     I throw my hands up, laughing hysterically. "I'm losing it. This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous"

     I glance back at my reflection in the mirror, pointing at myself. "Don't be an idiot, Park Sunghoon."

     I roll my eyes at myself, and in a rush of motion, finish my hair routine so quickly, I guarantee you it's my record time.

───‧★ ˎˊ˗

     Walking through the school gate with my bag slung casually over my shoulder, I hear someone call my name. Without even looking, I know who it is. Jake. I can practically sense it's him upon hearing his sneakers slamming against the pavement as he sprints toward me. Just as he catches up, he nudges me with his elbow, causing me to almost drop my phone.

     "Seriously, Jake?" I sigh, rolling my eyes as I shove my phone into the inner pocket of my blazer. I brush the sleeve off like it's a designer piece, and I'm about to head to a red carpet event. "You're going to get dust on my blazer."

     Jake groans, overdramatic as usual. "Jesus, Sunghoon, lighten up. I promise, your uniform looks amazing."

     "I know," I reply, not even pretending to be modest. I am fully aware of how flawless I look.

     Jake clicks his tongue in frustration. "Anyways, how are you holding up? You know, after..."

     I raise an eyebrow. "After what?"

     Jake stares at me like I've grown a second head. "After the broadcast, genius."

     "Oh." I shrug nonchalantly. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

     Jake stifles a laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, I don't know, man. Haeun did a number on you with that one. Honestly, it was kind of hilarious. She's pretty amazing for—"

     He immediately shuts up when he catches the look on my face. "Okay, okay, never mind," he mumbles, quickly shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets like he's trying to hide from a very angry mom.

     We're walking up to the entrance when, out of nowhere, Ni-ki—who honestly hasn't been to school in about a month—comes running up to me like a lost puppy. His tie is hanging down like he's just given up, and his top two buttons are undone, giving off that "I didn't try, but I'm still cooler than you" vibe.

     "Sunghoon, is it true?!" he practically yells, looking like he's about to explode from excitement.

     I look him up and down and sigh. "You know, it's against school rules to wear piercings, right?" I gesture to the three silver rings hooked onto the lobe of his right ear. "And what's true?"

     Ni-ki waves me off like he doesn't even care about the rules. "Whatever, no one cares about that. Did you really get owned by Choi Haeun?" He whips out his phone so fast I'm surprised he didn't break his fingers in the process. After fumbling with it for a few seconds, he hits play, and Haeun's voice blares from the speakers.

     "It isn't AI, right? Please tell me this is true!"

     I exhale, snatching his phone from his hand and pausing the recording. "Where did you even get this? You weren't even at school yesterday."

     Ni-ki pouts, like a kicked puppy. "I wish I was there! Believe me, dude, I am so coming to school more often now! But check it out!" He shoves his phone back at me. It's on Decelis High's Gossip page on social media, with a few posts from yesterday—each one racking up over 300,000 views. "So, is it true or not?"

     I roll my eyes so hard I'm worried they'll get stuck. "It's true."

     Ni-ki's jaw drops. "What? No way!"

     "Yes way, Ni-ki. Why would I say so if it weren't true?" I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets as I start walking into school. Jake, still at my side, just shakes his head at the whole mess. Ni-ki, of course, follows us like a clingy dog.

     "Choi Haeun, right? Isn't she, like, the school president? Why would she do that to you?!" Ni-ki sounds genuinely shocked, as if he's trying to piece together a mystery worthy of a detective novel.

     I grimace. School president. That was basically the Hunger Games of student council elections. She came out on top, and I ended up as co-president, which basically meant I had a shiny badge and zero power. It's probably buried somewhere in a landfill now, along with half of my dignity at the time.

     "Beats me," I say, not even breaking my stride. "Go to class, Ni-ki." I wave him off like he's a fly buzzing around my head, and he pouts before mimicking my words and heading off in the opposite direction. Probably not to class, though.

     Just then, our teacher walks in, looking like she's about to drop a bombshell. "Alright class! There's a last-minute assembly due to..." Her eyes flick to Haeun, and, of course, everyone mirrors her action. "...unexpected circumstances."

     Well, that's one way to put it.

     "Please make your way to the lecture hall! Anyone who's late or doesn't show up will still get demerits!"

     I sigh, already dreading this "urgent assembly." I turn on my heel, heading straight for the door. As we leave, I'm certain every single Year 11 already knows exactly what this is about. And Haeun? She's most definitely the reason that we're all being dragged into it.

───‧★ ˎˊ˗

     I collapse onto the lecture hall chair, which—let's be real here—could hardly be considered a "seat." It's more like a sad, thin slab of whatever material they thought was enough for a school chair. I cross my legs, then stare at the screen, waiting for this ridiculous assembly to finally begin.

     Decelis High's Code of Conduct: Bullying.

     I suppress a laugh that sneaks out as a half-snort. Jay, sitting to my left, looks at me like I've lost it.

     "Sorry." I grin at him, but he only shrugs, turning his attention back to the front.

     The lecture hall fills with murmurs as students pour in, each group louder than the last. I glance over my shoulder discreetly, scanning the rows for one particular face. There. Choi Haeun, perched at the very back like she's trying to merge with the wall. Her face is painted with an expression of utter dread, like she already knows exactly where this assembly is headed.

     I smirk. Of course, she knows.

     The principal—Mrs. Jeon—now takes the stage. She's standing at the front, looking like she's about to give the world's most tedious TED talk. She taps the microphone, curls a strand of her permed hair behind her ear like she's in a shampoo commercial, and then clears her throat.

     The room goes so quiet you'd think we were all waiting for a bomb to go off. "Good morning, Year 11," she says, her voice all official and stern.

     We mumble a half-hearted greeting back, barely even looking up. I don't even bother.

     She frowns, and it's as if we've all collectively ruined her day. "Let's try that again: Good morning, Year 11!"

     A chorus of groans follows. "GOOD MORNING MRS. JEON!" The response is so loud but pathetic it sounds like we're a disjointed choir in a high school musical gone wrong.

     "Better," she says curtly, though the edge in her tone is impossible to miss. "Now, while I wish I had called you all here for a more pleasant reason, I'm afraid today is not one of those days."

     The atmosphere shifts; whispers ripple through the rows as Mrs. Jeon paces across the stage, her heels clicking with authority. "You're all intelligent young men and women—capable of reading what's written right in front of you." She gestures toward the screen behind her. "But to ensure the message is crystal clear, I've invited a special guest to speak with you today."

     Out walks a woman in an all-black outfit, looking like she's attending a funeral. She's in her early thirties, but from the way she walks, she looks like she's been in the corporate world for ages. It's almost cinematic, like this is a scene in a movie and she's announcing someone's death.

     "This is Lee Aeri," Mrs. Jeon announces. "She is the CEO of Gangnam's Anti-Bullying Association, and I expect you all to give her your undivided attention. Decelis High does not condone bullying, under any circumstances."

     Aeri steps forward, gripping the microphone like it's her weapon of choice. "Good morning, Decelis High."

     No one dares respond. We all know better.

     She sighs, letting the silence hang in the air. "I must admit, when I first heard about the recent incidents at this school, I was disappointed. I expected better from such a prestigious institution."

     My eyes wander back to Haeun. Her expression is stony now, her gaze fixed on some point beyond the stage.

     Aeri clicks through her slides, launching into a presentation so dull it borders on comedic. The next slide pops up: a sad story about some girl named Mina who can't handle her physics teacher and also has a problem with one of her classmates. Apparently, instead of complaining about it on a public forum (like someone I know), Mina actually has a "civil" conversation about it.

     "Now," Aeri says, her tone syrupy sweet, "can anyone tell me what Mina did well in this situation?"

     Silence. Not even the usual overachievers raise their hands.

     Perfect.

     My lips curl into a confident smile as I raise my hand high, deliberately slow. Aeri notices immediately. "Ah, the young man at the back. What's your name?"

     "Park Sunghoon," I reply, sitting up straighter.

     Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Haeun's reaction. She looks like she's been struck by lightning, her pale face betraying the terror she's trying to conceal.

     "Well, Sunghoon, please share your thoughts."

     "With pleasure." I adjust my tie, letting my voice project. "Mina handled the situation with civility and tact, which prevented any unnecessary escalation. She avoided creating undue drama, which, quite frankly, would have been counterproductive. Her actions maintained the reputations of everyone involved—including her own."

     My words are measured, deliberate, and pointed. I don't need to look at Haeun directly to know she's fuming.

     "And," I continue, "by addressing her concerns privately, Mina spared everyone the chaos that public outbursts tend to create. Such outbursts only complicate matters, often to the detriment of—"

     "What if the so-called recipient was the one who started it all in the first place?"

     The voice is sharp, cutting through the lecture hall like a knife. All heads turn toward Haeun, who's on her feet now, her face flushed with defiance.

     My smile widens. This is exactly what I wanted.

     "So, you're suggesting the blame lies entirely with the recipient?" I counter, feigning confusion.

     "Well, maybe if the recipient hadn't been so intent on making the girl's life miserable, she wouldn't have acted out in the first place!"

     "Haeun," I drawl, standing now to match her level, "you're advocating for basic decency while conveniently forgetting your own spectacular lack of it. Let's not rewrite history here."

     "People have emotions, Sunghoon!" she snaps. "Sorry if that's such a novel concept for you, but it's not rocket science!"

     "Funny, Haeun," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aren't you the one who blasted your hatred for literally everyone in this school on a broadcast? I'm pretty sure you didn't care much about anyone's emotions then."

     "It wasn't my intention for that to get broadcasted!" she yells, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles are white. "I just needed someone to talk to—"

     "Someone to talk to?" I raise an eyebrow. "Have you heard of AI? This great new technology where you can talk to a machine that listens to your problems without spreading them to the entire school?" My voice is dripping with mockery. "No more drama, no more haters."

     "You think so highly of yourself, Sunghoon," she spits. "I'm not wasting time talking to a chatbot because of you!"

     I roll my eyes. "You really are the epitome of hypocrisy, aren't you, Haeun? You pretend not to care, but here you are, spending your days ranting about me—"

     She fires back, her voice cracking, "You act so righteous, but you've been waiting for this, haven't you? To humiliate me again, just like you always do!"

     I lean forward, scoffing. "And you make it so easy, Haeun. You've always been your own worst enemy."

     I never thought being caught in crossfire with Choi Haeun, in front of our entire year group would be so entertaining.

     The colour drains from her face, but she doesn't back down. "You don't know anything about my situation," she snaps.

     "Perhaps," I concede. "But I do know that a little foresight goes a long way. Something you might want to consider next time."

     Her breathing is uneven now, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. For a moment, I almost feel bad. Almost.

     "That is enough!"

     Mrs. Jeon's voice booms across the hall, silencing us instantly. Her face is as red as a fire hydrant, her eyes practically blazing. "You call yourselves the school's presidents, yet you're behaving like children! Both of you—out! Now!"

     The room erupts in murmurs as I grab my bag, walking down the stairs with Haeun following behind. Jeers and whispers trail after us, but I don't care.

     It was absolutely worth it.

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writing from sunghoons pov is so fun 😭😭

hope u enjoyed this chap !! lmk ur thoughts <33

word count; 2690
edited; ✘

thank you for reading,
nana<3