Taehyung’s POV:
I stand before the school doors, a familiar dread tightening in my chest. Another day begins.
I walk through the double doors, heading straight for the inevitable. The moment I enter the hallway, eyes lock onto me, and snickers ripple through the crowd.
“Eww, it’s the poor kid.”
“What a loser.”
“He should just kill himself. I bet no one would care.”
The last comment claws at me, repeating itself in a sickening loop.
As I walk, I see Jackson and his group, their gazes like burning holes in my back. I quicken my pace, desperate to reach the sanctuary of my homeroom, but a hand snatches my wrist, dragging me into the darkness of a janitor’s closet.
I blink, adjusting to the dim light. Jackson and his crew stand before me, faces contorted with malice. I try to wrench free, but a strong grip clamps around my hair, yanking me backwards.
They punch and kick, relentless and brutal, until I can no longer feel my legs.
“See you later, loser,” Jackson spits, and they leave me crumpled on the floor.
I struggle to rise, limbs shaking. I limp towards first period, fifteen minutes late. I walk in, and meet my teacher’s furious gaze.
“Mr. Kim, why are you late AGAIN?”
“S-sorry, ma’am.”
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. Two hours detention after school.”
“B-but ma’—”
“I SAID detention! Now SHUT UP and sit your ass down!”
“S-sorry.”
As I try to settle into my seat, a foot shoots out, and I tumble forward, face-first into the ground. The class erupts in laughter as I scramble to my feet.
Detention. My boss is going to kill me. Why does this happen? What have I done to deserve this?
The classes drag on, paper airplanes and spitballs a constant barrage. I try to distract myself, imagining Jungkook’s face this morning—the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
Lunchtime. Usually, I hide in the bathroom, but today I forgot to pack a lunch. I’ll have to brave the cafeteria, relying on the meager funds I have left.
As I enter the lunchroom, I feel every eye on me, hear every cruel whisper. I move through the line, and glance at the person in front of me. Jung Hoseok, the school’s golden boy, radiating warmth and kindness. He turns, his dazzling smile directed at me.
“Hey, Taehyung, how are you?”
“H-hello. I’m f-fine.”
Hoseok, oblivious to the bullying, the hatred, too busy with student council and sports.
“I don’t see you here very often.”
“Yeah…”
I purchase the cheapest items on the menu and hurry towards the bathroom. As I turn to leave, a hand grabs my wrist. I whirl around to find spaghetti plastered across my face, flowing down my chin.
I look up to see Jackson roaring with laughter, the entire lunchroom joining in. I scan the room, and see every face, even the teachers, contorted in mirth—except Hoseok, who wears an expression of confused pity.
A wetness streaks down my face. I’m crying.
“Oh my gosh! Look at that! The LOSER is crying!” Jackson shouts.
The laughter swells, and I drop my tray, running from the lunchroom, sobbing.
I stumble into a bathroom stall and cry until my eyes burn. Finally, I wipe my face and clothes as best I can. I walk out, and head up the stairs to the rooftop.
I walk straight to the ledge.
“He should just kill himself. I bet no one would care.”
The words repeat, driving me closer to the edge.
Then, a flicker of memory—Jungkook’s beautiful smile, his soft voice, his gentle touch.
I can’t do it.
As I try to step back from the edge, my foot slips, and I feel myself falling.
*I’m sorry, Jungkook.*
Just as I’m about to fall, hands wrap around my waist, pulling me back from the brink. I look up to see Hoseok, his face contorted with fury.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU CRAZY?!”
He realizes he’s yelling, and his voice softens. “Sorry… I just can’t believe you were going to end your life.”
“H-how did you find me?” I whimper.
“I saw what happened in the lunchroom. I went to find you, and you were about to jump.”
“Oh… t-thanks, I guess.”
We stand in awkward silence. Then, he breaks it.
“Do you wanna be friends?”
“R-really? Because I might ruin your reputation.”
“Psh, who cares about my reputation!” He makes a playful face.
I giggle, and he flashes his bright smile.
“Well, Taehyung, I would love to be your friend.”
“YAYYYYY!”
He begins to dance, playfully bumping his body against mine, and I laugh uncontrollably.
Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all.