The bell echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of the teacher's instructions. "Graded as a paper at the end of the term," the teacher had explained, their voice ringing with authority. "Specific requirements are posted on the learning platform. In pairs, form your own team. Fill out the form once confirmed." With that, the teacher exited the room, leaving a low hum of chatter in their wake as students began looking around for potential partners.
Dasom hesitated for a moment, clutching her notebook tightly to her chest before nervously approaching Gyungho, who was already packing his bag with deliberate, sharp movements. His expression was as cold and detached as ever.
"Excuse me," Dasom ventured softly, her voice barely audible over the classroom noise. "Do you have a partner?"
Gyungho didn't even bother to look up as he replied curtly, "Yes."
Dasom's shoulders drooped at the flat rejection. Without another word, she turned and shuffled back to her seat, her head low, the sting of embarrassment evident on her face.
Meanwhile, Gyungho zipped his bag shut and stood, his posture confident and his steps purposeful as he made his way across the classroom. Whispers started to ripple among the students, eyes darting between him and his apparent destinationâTaehyung, who sat near the back of the room, doodling absentmindedly in the corner of his notebook.
Taehyung looked up as Gyungho stopped in front of him, his expression immediately guarded. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.
The tension in the room was palpable. Every eye was on them, the air charged with curiosity and unspoken questions.
Ayeong, a girl sitting a few rows over, leaned toward her friend Bongcha, whispering excitedly, "Before, it was always Taehyung chasing after Gyungho. Now Gyungho is the one actively seeking Taehyung."
Bongcha smirked, glancing at the pair. "This must be about forming a team, right?"
Ayeong shook her head, her voice dripping with doubt. "No way. Gyungho hates being pestered by Taehyung the most. It doesn't add up."
Back at Taehyung's desk, Gyungho's smirk deepened as he crossed his arms, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of anyone still pretending not to watch. "Since you gave me my birthday gift," he said, his tone almost magnanimous, "I can let you team up with me."
The room fell silent, every student holding their breath in anticipation of Taehyung's response. The audacity of Gyungho's words left some shocked, others entertained, but all were captivated by the drama unfolding before them.
Taehyung's brows knitted together, and he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an unimpressed look. "Let me?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thanks, but no thanks."
Gasps erupted from the surrounding students, the boldness of Taehyung's rejection catching everyone off guard. Gyungho's smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered, his gaze narrowing.
Gyungho's voice remained calm, but there was an undeniable edge to it, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes as he stared Taehyung down. "You should think this through," he said slowly, as though speaking to someone who couldn't comprehend the obvious. "I'm offering you a chance to work with me. You won't get a better partner. Do you think you can complete the paper yourself? How capable do you think you really are?"
The classroom seemed to hold its breath, the tension rising like a coiled spring. Taehyung's grip on his pen tightened until, with a sharp thud, he slammed it onto the desk and stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Here you go again!" Taehyung snapped, his voice trembling with pent-up frustration. His gaze burned into Gyungho, unflinching and fierce. "You always undermine my confidence. When I said I was going to enter a singing competition, you said the same thing. You're always gaslighting me, making me doubt myself!"
His chest heaved slightly as he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to rein in the whirlwind of emotions that had built up inside him. The room was silent, the other students watching with wide eyes, captivated by the confrontation.
Taehyung exhaled sharply and continued, his tone quieter but no less resolute. "I can do whatever I want. I don't need you."
With that, he dropped back into his chair, his movements sharp and deliberate, before burying his face in his folded arms on the desk. His shoulders were tense, the weight of his frustration palpable.
Gyungho's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and cold. "Taehyung, my patience has its limits."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken threats, before Gyungho straightened and turned sharply on his heel, walking back to his seat with measured, purposeful steps. He didn't spare Taehyung another glance as he sat down, his expression unreadable.
Across the room, Siwoo and Yejoon exchanged incredulous glances, their curiosity bubbling over into hurried whispers.
"Did he really just reject Brother Gyu?" Yejoon murmured, his voice barely audible. "Not once but twice?"
Siwoo nodded, leaning closer. "Right? And isn't this the same Taehyung who took admission to this college just to follow Brother Gyu?"
Yejoon smirked, lowering his voice even more. "I also heard Taehyung gave a scarf to Jungkook too. Can you believeâ"
"What did you just say?"
Gyungho's voice cut through their conversation like a knife, cold and sharp. Both Siwoo and Yejoon froze, their faces paling as they turned to look at him. His gaze was fixed on them, dark and piercing, making their earlier confidence evaporate in an instant.
"N-nothing, Brother Gyu," Siwoo stammered, forcing a nervous smile. "Just...just idle talk, nothing serious."
"Yeah, just a rumor," Yejoon added hastily, his voice cracking slightly.
Gyungho's gaze didn't waver, his expression hard as stone, but after a tense moment, he leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied with their response.
Siwoo and Yejoon exchanged another glance, this time filled with trepidation. They knew better than to push their luck further, especially when Gyungho was clearly on edge. The classroom buzzed softly again, but the tension from the confrontation lingered in the air, a reminder of the unspoken battle lines being drawn.