insecure ⋆ hansol vernon chwe

iii

tre. ✿

❝ーun fiore è altrettanto fragile come la sua bellezza❞

HANSOL VERNON CHWE IS A RAT. That's the only thing I know for sure. Well, not really. I don't know. But who knew my punches could knock people out?

I sit down next to his body, which is lying face down on the first. My hands are warm and sweaty, probably from the adrenaline from punching one of the meanest kids in school. Yes, this fake hoe is mean. I mean, I haven't seen him actually...

He wakes up after one minute and is breathing heavily as if he had been holding in his breath. Hansol sits up, gets on his knees, and looks around nervously. What the hell was this kid dreaming about?

Once his eyes land on me, his entire face pales and he sits back on his butt. I arch an eyebrow and ask, "What, dude?" I'm honestly not in the mood for him to be mean, if he's going to.

He's still breathing heavily. "What-why-were you the one whoー?" I nod my head twice with a bored look, which seems to make him more nervous. Geez, who knew this kid had emotions.

"What, Hansol?" When I call him by his name, he tilts his head and calms his breathing down. "You-you know my name?" I let out a obnoxiously loud laugh but he doesn't. Of course, I know this bitch's name.

"Uh, yeah. You're the kid, who makes fun of my friend when I'm not with her." He looks stunned and his face has this 'girl, what?' look. What?

Hansol shakes his head and rubs his knee, which brings small winces to his face. "No, I don't. That's Vince. We're just in the same class." His voice gets really quiet and he sounds like he's about to cry. What the hell?

"What? But my friend pointed at you when..." I then realize that when my friend, Nat, had pointed at her bully, if you will, I had seen the wrong person. Well, I'll be damned.

"Oh." I merely say and start laughing because how dumb that was. Hansol looks at me with frightened tired eyes and I stop to glare at him. "How do you know my name?" He asks.

I sigh and place my leg onto the other. "Well, you got lost in my class once and the teacher, Mr. Stanford, yelled at you." He blinks frequently and looks away.

What was with kid? "Did you laugh like the rest did?" He asks yet another question and I exhale through my nostrils. "Uh, no. I was watching anime but all I heard was your name. By the way, it wasn't even that funny. Everyone at this school has really bad humor. They're so white."

At this, his mouth twitches with a smile and I smile. "You look white but your last name is Korean." I state and he parts his lips before nodding. "Yeah, I'm mixed."

I nod my head again and bounce my legs up and down, admiring how my thighs jiggle. It's so cute. I'm so cute, God.

"That's really cool. I'm just Italian. Super Italian. I'm probably the most Italian or New Yorkish person you've ever met." He purses his lips, a smile not having its way on his Leonardo Dicaprio-ish face.

I slap my hands together and exclaim, "Bada bing, Bada boom!" When this dude actually smiles, my eyes widen and he immediately covers his mouth.

"Dude." I can only say. His smile is so...

He shakes his head, looking away and trying to stand up by failing. I stand up and go sit down next to him, directly looking at him. Dang, this kid is still 1080p quality.

"Don't freaking cover your mouth! You look like you're about to vomit and that's nasty," all he does is blink at me.

"It makes you look even more like a rat." I would expect his eyebrows to furrow with anger but they only arch. He doesn't say anything but drops his hand, revealing a frown.

I snort and try to make him feel better. "Hey, it's okay to be a rat."

He continues to look at me as if he's a puppy, who's been kicked too many times. Dude...

"Are you Janis di Angelo?" He suddenly asks and continues staring at my hand, which is the one with the scar.

I cross my legs and nod my head once proudly. "Heck yeah, but why do you ask?" I wonder if he knows I was just playing...

"Is it true that you beat up one of the football players, who called you ugly, last year?" When he looks up at me, there's literally tears in his eyes.

Why is this kid crying? Oh, right. He was getting beat up. Wait, is this rat getting bullied?

But I just nod my head slowly, a small smirk on my face. "Oh, yeah," I turn my body towards him and get on my knees to do so, placing his hands on his strong shoulders. "And that kid was ugly as fuー"

I'm rudely cut off by Mrs. Carter, who calls my name as if she's my mom. You're not my mom, racist lady.

"Ms. di Angelo!"

I turn around and give her this 'really?' look. "Yes?" I ask, my voice sounding like I'm ready to fight. I am actually ready to fight.

"Go home!"

I roll my eyes and let go of Hansol. "You go home!" I yell back and she widens her eyes in shock. Is it shocking that she has to go home or...?

"More detention!" is the last thing she tells me before stomping off, breaking one of her heels. Ha, what a loser.

I turn back to Hansol and comment, "What a loser, right?" He doesn't nod.

He looks down at his hand and I look down, too, to see his wrists, which are as purple as the eggplants that my mom has an obsession with.

I take a double take. "OhmyGOー"