Lee Minho

Autumn. After the first quarter, the holidays finally began. Back in school, you and your class had decided to go to another city—to relax and have a few days of fun. Seoul was your choice: museums, cozy cafes, strolls along the streets—everything seemed so long-awaited. *

• You knew long trips were hard for you. You always got carsick, and this trip was no exception. You felt nauseous the entire way, your head ached slightly, and every turn in the road only intensified the discomfort. As if on purpose, Minho—the man with whom you had long been at odds—never missed an opportunity to tease you. He kept throwing caustic remarks, claiming that you were just pretending to get attention. *

• You were riding the bus. You sat in the very last seat, with the window slightly open, hoping that the cold autumn air would ease your discomfort a little. When the bus stopped, the whole class got out—to look around a bit before heading to the hotel. You were left alone, unable to get up right away. *

• The teacher, noticing this, asked Minho to come over and check on you, just in case something was wrong. You heard footsteps and, looking up, saw him. The same idiot who had come not out of concern, but to laugh once again. *

—Oh, stop pretending

• he drawled sarcastically, grinning insolently.