Seoul High: Chapter 3

Sandara tried to breathe, but she really and truly couldn’t. Love at first sight wasn’t something she believed in, but oh my Buddha, this kid was Mr. Perfect. 

“Who’s that kid that just walked in?” she whispered anxiously to Sunny, who shrugged and turned around. 

He had very blonde, very shaggy hair, thin lips, pixie-like features, and the most beautiful pair of black eyes she had ever seen. He sauntered across the room and handed the teacher a heavy-looking manila folder. As she looked through it, he surveyed the room, taking everything in. His eyes caught Sandara’s, and they had a silent staring match. For some unknown reason, she couldn’t look away. A knowing smirk crept onto his lips, and he winked at her before turning his head away. 

“The nerve of him!” Min Ji exclaimed. Sandara turned around and gave her a confused look, wondering if she was as red as she felt. “He is such a flirt!”

“He…is?” 
“Of course!” Min Ji yelled. “Did you not see the way how he made all of you watch him? What a player.”
Sandara felt the need to defend him. “Don’t say things like that. You don’t even know him.”
“Of course I know him! He’s Kiwon Jiyong!”

Right, like that cleared everything up. 
“The Kiwon Jiyong! Remember that one dance battle in Seoul City Center? Please tell me you went. Everyone was there.”

“Yeah…”
“Remember that kid who out-rapped everyone even though it was a dance competition?”
“I do!” Sunny desperately chimed in; she immediately blushed when she thought of how they must have thought she was an eaves-dropper.
“Right,” Min Ji continued, not even glancing at Sunny. “That was him. Everyone talked about it for weeks. His English was flawless. Well, at least better than mine.”

Sandara and Sunny watched him leave. 
“He’s good looking,” Sunny commented, scrunching up her face as if she was scrutinizing him. 
“If he’s your type, I guess,” Min Ji said, making a face. “Personally, I prefer more Asian men. But maybe that’s just me.” She gave Sandara a sideways glance. 

Her cheeks flushed; she turned back to her design and began to sketch furiously, wishing she wasn’t embarrassed so quickly all the time. 

**

WooYoung’s head was spinning. He wasn’t used to any of this; and he was pretty sure that NichKhun wasn’t, either. Everything was moving so fast-paced. It was only the first day of school, but already, cliques had been formed, phone numbers exchanged, and he’d even seen some people flirt. Didn’t those things take time? Well, they did in his world. He couldn’t, for the life of him, think about liking a girl just like that. He had to get to know her first. So who should he get to know? 

He shook his head. He was getting to be just like everyone else, who treated the school like it was a free dating campus. He’d also noticed that most of the people were really, really Americanized. Like that blonde girl in his gymn class? What was her name? Jesse…Jessa…Jess-something-really-American. He wasn’t fond of people like that; people who didn’t act like themselves, and tried to act like people from another culture to be different. You could be different in your own way, right?

I’m overthinking things again, he thought. He had a tendency to do that. 

He stared down at his egg roll, suddenly having lost his appetite. 
“You want?” he said, offering it to Junho, who anxiously nodded and took it. WooYoung had a hard time understanding Junho, mainly because he seemed so flawless, but he was great to be around, and he acted 100 percent like himself, which was what mattered most. Across their lunch table, NichKhun was chatting animatedly with Seungri and Daesung, who were cousins, and seemed nice enough, although they both seemed to be more interested in things that required pens and pencils: Seungri wanted to be a professional writer, and Daesung was crazy about art. 

“Look who’s coming,” Junho nudged him. “Teacher Lee. Wonder what she’s got to say.”

“Can I have your attention please? Guys? Hello? YO!” The last word caught everyone by surprise, and it was suddenly quiet. “That’s better. Now, listen up. As long as you’re in this school, you’re a future artist; you must have a stage name. Especially those going into show biz: If your names are long or common, change them. Let’s start with a few examples. You, over there! What’s your name?”

Elf Ears looked up. “TaecYeon.” 
“Too long; not masculine enough,” she said, shaking her head. “Try to think of something else.”
“How about Taec?” 
“Not bad, not bad. See what he did there? He didn’t even change his name. He abbrievated it. Let’s do someone else…Oh, you! What’s your name?”
Su Ji frowned at the teacher, as if was her fault that she didn’t know her name. “Su Ji.”
“This is a great example for everyone who has names that end in “Ji”. Since we pronounce it like the “Z” in English, you can change it to Suzy, like the American name, and it will sound the same.”

That seemed to make sense to WooYoung, but he had no clue what to change his name to. When Teacher Lee asked him, he puffed his cheeks and shook his head. 
“That’s okay,” she said. “Not everyone’s name has to be changed. Besides, WooYoung is memorable. Every “Young” name is. Keep it the way it is. You’re not an ‘easy-to-forget’ person, anyways.”

“At least his cheeks aren’t,” NichKhun chortled. WooYoung had the sudden urge to throw something at his head. He hated his cheeks. He wasn’t someone who was really caught up about looks, but he was tired of the endless teasing that had earned him many nicknames, including “Mandu Cheeks”, “Blowfish”, and very recently, “Chubby Cheeks”.  Although his sister said they were cute, he didn’t really think so. Why couldn’t he have really prominent cheekbones, like his brother? It wasn’t really fair. 

He looked around the room. Almost everyone was wearing nametags with their new names, which was a relief, since he didn’t know who most of them were. 

Min Ji had become Minzy, like Suzy; Sandara had simply abbreviated her name to “Dara”, and was staring at a blonde kid, whose nametag read “G-Dragon: GD for short”. What sort of name was that? It seemed to extreme. He kept looking. Blonde girl = Jessica. Auburn-haired girl next to her = Yuri. A girl who was staring shyly around next to them = Sunny. Well, that was a nice name. He liked it. And then there was that girl that had helped him, the nice one who’d been embarrassed by Taec = Yoona. And that other big guy who’d gotten in trouble with Taec that morning was Chansung. Although they’d been in classes together, WooYoung felt like this was when he unofficially met everyone. This was a clever way for them to be introduced to each other without actually needing to talk. He wanted to know who everyone was, so he wouldn’t be confused later on. 
There was that silent guy who had to share a room with Chansung and Taec, the one that seemed annoyed by them that morning. What was his name? WooYoung squinted his already-small eyes to read the nametag: T.O.P. What did that stand for? He didn’t dare ask. He seemed to him like the kind of person that got mad really easily. And then there was that senior kid Junsu, who seemed to be sort of a diva, from what WooYoung had seen, that had come to their class and handed out bamboo-paper notebooks. Then, there was that blonde girl who looked oddly like she could be related to that GD kid. She also had that fierce air about her; her nametag read CL. What was with all of these names? And then there was Taeyang, who was also in the morning gymn class. WooYoung had no idea what he was like, but he didn’t want to find out. He wasn’t the most social noodle in the plate. He’d identified almost everyone that he’d ever seen. Except…

He turned his head and caught a girl with huge eyes and appley cheekbones staring at him. Her namecard informed him that her name was SooYoung. She’d been in his gymn class. Right? He didn’t remember. He hadn’t really looked at the girls. Why was she still staring at him? And why were her awesome cheeks turning pink? WooYoung didn’t understand why girls always turned pink. It was so random and weird.

**

1 Month Later

WooYoung and Junho twirled around as NichKhun watched on. 

“Right foot, left foot, hands out, twirl, step up, step down, jump!” Taeyang commanded, scribbling something in his black notebook, as he sat next to Nich and watched the boys dance. As a senior, he felt that it was his duty to help the lower classes, and he’d handpicked the best dancers from every room, and trained them daily. 

NichKhun looked down at his hands. As much as he loved being with Junho and Woo, he always had fleeting thoughts that they’d leave him, mainly because their interests weren’t common. They never disappointed him, but he was still suspicious about how faithful Koreans were, and always kept his guard up. He knew that if he ever told the guys; they’d be hurt. It wasn’t their fault that Khun had trust issues. They didn’t know about his past. It was not their fault. He hated how he he had to keep reminding himself of that. 

“WooYoung, you’re doing great. Junho, move your hair back, it’s plastered to your forehead. Let’s see your expression when you’re dancing! Otherwise, you’re great!”

Of course they are, Khun thought proudly. They’re the best male dancers in the whole school. As much as it amused him to watch his friends dance, especially WooYoung, whom completely lost his boyish personality, and changed into a beast as soon as the music started, he wanted to be alone for a while. His homesickness hadn’t really disappeared yet, and he needed some time to think about things. He left the room and started wandering around. He passed by giggling girls, who hushed each other as soon as he walked by, two boys composing music in a corner, and Minzy, who was yelling into her cellphone, her face turning purple. 

He found himself in the balcony on the third floor. He peered below. Students  were passing by, everyone looking like they had something important on their minds. So many people with so many untold stories. So many hidden secrets and unknown pasts…Just like his. He heard someone sniff and whirled around. There wasn’t anyone on the balcony but him. 

“Looking for someone?” a blonde boy emerged from the shadows. “Or something?”

“Hey, G-Dragon. What brings you here?” NichKhun and GD weren’t the best of friends, but they always politely acknowledged each other, and although he was a bit unusual, Nich liked him. Apparently, he was phenomenal, but Khun didn’t know why, as G-Dragon was Korean.

“Talking to the sis,” he said, pointing to his cell phone. “She won’t shut up about the boys here. I don’t know how to respond.”

"Ya, Kiwon! Leave me alone. I never said anything about boys!"

NichKhun chuckled to himself. Must be nice to have siblings, he thought. 
G-Dragon muttered something to his sister, then shouted “I LOVE YOU!” in English, before snapping the phone shut. 

“I swear, she’s crazy. All she does is ask me if there are cute boys. Now how does a guy answer that?”

There was a pregnant silence as NichKhun made a “dunno” face. It is not his fault that he brought up siblings. Not his fault. Stop blaming him. Stop it, Khun. Stop, right now.

“Yo, man, are you okay? You don’t look too well. Wanna talk about it?”
NichKhun did not know G-Dragon. Not enough, anyways. But something in him told him that he should get to know him. It was time for him to branch out and make new friends, anyways. He couldn’t stick to WooYoung and Junho forever like Japanese superglue. 

“Actually, yeah. Something is wrong.”
G-Dragon’s blonde eyebrows shut up. “Spill.”

And he did.

**

Later that day; during free period

It was jam-packed in the cafeteria. There was literally no room to breathe, which wasn’t really a problem, since everyone was too busy talking to stop for a breath. 

Sunny pushed through the crowd until she found Seungri, her new friend, who had previously apologized for being so cold on that first day. 

“What’s going on?”

“You haven’t seen it yet?”
“Seen what?”
“Our first six-weeks final.”
“Oh no.” She’d completely forgotten that at the end of every six weeks, they were supposed to put on a mini-show, as a way of passing. She hadn’t even given it a thought; she was so busy trying to befriend people and finish all of Yuri and Jessica’s untouched homework.

“Here,” he handed her a flyer. 

SEOUL HIGH: FIRST FINAL GRADE OF THE YEAR

When: Next Friday. Starting Time = 9 AM. Finishing Time = Undetermined.
Where: Auditorium (Third floor)
Who: All second, third, and fourth years wishing to pass their classes.
Why: At the end of every six weeks, to determine if you have learned all of your lessons, we ask you to put on a show for us. This includes, but is not limited to: acting, singing, dancing, drawing, etc.

If you are not there, do not bother to continue attending classes here anymore. We advise you pack your bags and leave immediately.

It was obvious that Teacher Lee had written the paper; her bitter sarcasm was all there. But…what was she going to do, on such short notice?

What was anyone going to do?