4 YEARS AGO
2015
(y/n) – 13 | Rosé – 15
Your P.O.V
"It's not fair!" I stand, feet planted, arms crossed. I will not be scared of Bae Suzy. I don't care how serious she looks, how tightly her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, how many students whisper that she knows you're cheating on a test without even looking at you. She doesn't scare me (she does, and I hate it).
"What's not fair?" she raises a thin eyebrow at me.
"Why is my test all essays? Everyone else has multiple choice!"
She smiles; it doesn't touch her eyes. It's a lie of a smile. She's a liar. I hate this place! I hate it, it's wrong, every day it's wrong and I feel sick all the time.
I hate the two postcards aunt Jiwon has sent us in the three months since we came here, saying she's in Egypt and isn't it great that the school will do all holidays and summer breaks for us. I hate the beautiful dining room with fancy food, I hate the laundry room with spinning washing machines, I hate the air-conditioned classrooms with too few students and too much attention. Why? Because it's all a lie. Because it's all one. Big. Fat. LIE.
But the thing is, Rosé loves it all. She has a private tutor. They've talked with a geneticist about her eyes. She is happy.
"Well, (y/n), part of our goal at this school is to challenge our students. And you have demonstrated that you excel at multiple choice. You never miss a question. Ever. On any test in any subject."
"Are you accusing me of cheating?" I don't break eye contact. I won't. I have never cheated in my life.
"Of course not. I'm simply saying you have an uncanny knack for answering multiple-choice questions. If everything come easy, how will you ever learn?"
I barely hold back my eye roll. Rosé says that only ill-mannered people roll their eyes at elders and that our parents have taught us better than that, but Rosé doesn't understand. She's not sick of this place, doesn't have these thoughts bouncing around in her skull driving her crazy. She doesn't feel like the bottom has just dropped out of the room, like she can't get enough air to breath. I do, ever since we came here. I'm crazy. But I'm not a cheater.
"Fine, whatever." I stomp back to my seat, my stupid plaid skirt swishing. The boy sitting at the table behind mine, chuckles. I pull my chair back hallways before stopping to look at him, and I am greeted with a boxy smile. No, seriously—his mouth forms into a chubby rectangular shape when he smiles.
I know this guy. Who is this guy? What was his name, again? It was something Kim. Yeah, definitely Kim. Kim . . . Tae? Kim Tae . . . what was the rest, again? Kim Tae . . . hyung? Ah, yes! Kim Taehyung. Yep. Kim Taehyung: the guy who broke into the computer labs after midnight, two weeks ago, and hacked into one of the computers because he missed an episode from the latest season of Naruto. However, he wasn't punished, though. Weird.
"You've got quite a temper, there." he says. "Nice."
"Thanks." I say while flashing one of my fake ass smiles, that no one can tell whether they're fake or not, before sliding back into my seat.
The girl I share a table with, Tzuyu, scowls. There are only nine of us left in the thirteen-year-olds class now. Except for Tzuyu—and now Taehyung, I don't know any of them, and I don't want to. I wish I had classes with Rosé, but I can't because I'm two years younger than her and not blind.
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 | 𝐛𝐭𝐬
Fanfiction"(y/n), don't do this!" He holds his hands in front of him and starts backing away. He's scared, just like he should be. "Join me, please?" He pleads, his voice honest and sincere. "Tempting, but it's a no." I simply reply, before shooting him squar...
