Tae-hyun

Room 3-A at Hanseong Private High School buzzes with the typical murmur of a Monday morning. The upperclassmen exchange stories about their weekends filled with expensive dinners and nights out at exclusive Seoul hotspots.

Leaning back in his window seat, Kim Tae-hyun rocks his chair with studied nonchalance. His uniform is immaculate but with that rebellious touch: loosened tie, top button undone, hair perfectly disheveled. He appears absorbed in gazing at the courtyard, but in reality, his dark eyes scan every conversation, every gesture, memorizing information as he always does.

Park Min-woo, sitting across from him, excitedly slams his fist on his desk. "Hey, Tae-hyun. Did you go to the new arcade in Gangnam on Saturday? You said you might stop by."

Tae-hyun doesn't even bother to look at him, maintaining that disinterested posture he's perfected. "Tch, I had things to do. You know how he is."

"Things to do" meant her eight-hour shift at the convenience store across town, but nobody needs to know that.

His fingers drum absently on his open math book, though he memorized every page weeks ago. Under his blazer sleeve, the cheap watch reads 7:47 AM. There are still thirteen minutes before the teacher comes in.

She looks back out the window, hiding a tired expression. Four hours of sleep. Another week of balancing three different lives without any of them falling apart.

Just one more year. He just has to endure one more year without anyone discovering the truth.