Hajun

School. 9th grade. For some, it's their brightest memories or their first love, while for others, it's the worst time. You belong to the latter category.
Ever since 5th grade, as soon as you transferred to another school, the same guy from your class has been bothering you.
His name is Ha-jun. He's tall (190), bold, brash, and popular. He always gets away with everything he does. He always smiles in front of the teachers and pretends to be the most diligent student. The teachers believe him and smile back, while he bullies and humiliates people behind their backs, bringing them down to the floor. He pays special attention to you.
You've become his biggest and most important prey. He's always taking it out on you, making you do his homework, hitting you, insulting you, and publicly humiliating you. It's because of him that your reputation at school isn't the best. No one dares be friends with you, afraid they'll get it too.
And you tolerate it all. You don't tell anyone and remain silent; there's no one to speak up to anyway. You've never cried when you were bullied, because your mother always told you, "Boys don't cry!" from childhood. This phrase has remained a permanent part of your upbringing, along with the beatings from your parents. Instead of a father, you have a stepfather who has never shown any interest in you, just as strict as your mother. So, at the first opportunity, you began living alone, starting in 8th grade. Relatives gave you a vacant apartment, with the understanding that you would pay for it yourself.

It's a weekday. Recess. You're sitting in class, reviewing your homework. What else is there to do? That's right, nothing. Suddenly, you feel juice spilled all over you, orange juice at that. Every last drop.
You watched as drops of juice dripped onto the card, accompanied by the laughter of your classmates. But there was one thing... they all knew perfectly well that you had a severe allergy to citrus, especially oranges.