SCHOOL F*CKING SUCKS! | YANDERE!BTS

STUPID, STUPID, STUPID PROJECT!

WARNINGS. feelings of shame.

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the bell rings among the speakers and all the students get ready for lunch. a couple walk out the classroom and a few turn in their seats to chat with their friends about the recent chapter about some webcomic.

but you don't do either.

instead, you stay rigid at your desk as your eyes dart from the clock, to the windows, to taehyung's now-empty chair, then to mrs. yoo, who hums some 90's song as she sits at her desk and sorts the papers in her binder.

you take a deep breath in, close your eyes, and gather all the courage you have in your studious heart. after you count to seventeen, you stand up from your seat and begin walking up to her in strides.

"mrs. yoo, may i talk to you for a moment? it's about the project."

after you passed out in taehyung's arms last night, he must have brought you home and made up some believable story to your parents, considering how you woke up this morning in your own bed and weren't presented with a mother and father interrogation. but the history poster was nowhere to be seen. so throughout the whole morning up until now, your mind came up with sixty-seven ways of telling your teacher that you'll need extra time to finish the project that she assigned for you and taehyung.

you need to own up to your mistakes; something that you often preach to the other students.

mrs. yoo looks up to you from her work and rolls her cushioned seat back with delight. "oh! the project! don't worry, taehyung turned it in when he first entered the room."

"i know it's irresponsible of me to ask-- wait--" there's a beat of silence in your sentence. "i'm sorry?"

"is that not what you were going to ask?"

your gaze drifts to the pile of posters by her side and you recognize the first one as yours. it has the same photos that you printed out, but... you can't believe that it's yours, because... the project looks so neat, so organized, so perfect with beautiful handwriting (in pen like you told him!), nothing like taehyung's half-assed notes with scratch marks all over. nothing like taehyung at all. you see a couple of paragraphs that you didn't initially write on the document you shared with him. could it be that... taehyung... added to the research? did he actually put in effort to make it better? you whip your head back to mrs. yoo when you catch sight of a dirty mark on the poster, mortification sinking in your gut. "y-yes, that's right. that was what i was worried about."

words of praise flow from her mouth, telling you how lucky she is to have a class president who can make a project worth keeping as an example. "you did an excellent job; the research is so well-written and the poster looks amazing. as expected of you, _____!"

on comments like these, you would usually hold your head high and smile proudly. but in this case, when you know you're receiving praise that you don't deserve, you only stare down, clenching your knee-length skirt with a deep feeling of chagrin bubbling in your stomach. it's even worse when you're unable to admit to anything.

when you murmur a small "thank you", she chuckles with a hopeful smile (one that lets you know the favor she's going to ask). "i understand if you want to make a complaint about taehyung, and i know that he might not have done a lot, but... would you please let this slide?"

of course she can't go changing taehyung's grade, because his parents' generous donations is what makes the school run. of course you bite your lip back, because you don't have the right to act like the strict, responsible class president mrs. yoo thinks you are, no matter how much taehyung's control over the system aggravates you, no matter how much his high ranking grades despite his lack of effort make you want to rip up all the essays you've written this year.

because of course, rich, class clown kim taehyung just had to show you that he wasn't just the slacker you thought he was, and he just had to prove that you weren't the responsible class president you made yourself out to be.

you give the most believable smile you can muster, though it's strained, and a small tinge of humiliation threatens to slip through your teeth. "of course, mrs. yoo."

she clasps her hands together and states her appreciation with a promise of extra credit.

you walk back to your seat, defeated and unable to meet the eyes of any of your classmates. they don't pay too much attention to you, but you feel the stare of a voice inside your head. how dare you accuse taehyung of hiding his true self when you're no better? how dare you pretend to be the perfect student example when deep down inside your unconscious mind, you lust for something more than good grades and a scholarship? something darker, like taehyung's desires?

you shake your head before grabbing a couple of coins on the side pocket and gliding to the open door with a trembling bottom lip. the classroom feels suffocating and you feel so out of place; an imposter, that's what you are.

taehyung leans on the wall outside the room, surrounded by chatty friends who all laugh at a joke he made. despite the classmates around him, he watches you until you catch his stare, and he perks up like a puppy whose name was called. he wonders if you'll lecture him for loitering around the entrance, tell him how inconvenient it is considering the fact that there are people coming in and out of the classroom. or maybe you'll reveal your conversation with yoo to him, if he asks with a dramatic please.

but you don't even give him the chance to call out to you.

you look away with your lips a firm line before rounding the corner of the hall.

the smirk on taehyung's face fades into a frown. he doesn't go after you, not with all the students who talk over each other in hopes of getting his attention. they'd surely bother you if they knew what was going on in taehyung's head.

so he turns his gaze back to them with his class president still in the back of his mind. maybe he'll tease you about your limp later.