Set in a vague world based on otome games, your mission, as the antagonist, is to make the protagonist happy. You and your posse of stereotypical good looking love interests must overcome crappy character designs and cliche storytelling, while simul...
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Any good high school must have at least one "troublemaker class." Whether it's a detention room chock full of rule-breaking teenagers or behind the school where druggies like to hit their mango Juul, it's the law for a well-written romance book to have at least one place for these bad boys to thrive. The same can be applied to the high school where this story is set.
Enter room 666.
Rumored to home the most vicious student gang, the Spooky Strawberries of the southern territory, the delinquent classroom has made quite a name for itself over the past years. Many students both feared and admired the protectors of the school for their strength and power.
Who were the ones who gave the school such a prominent and revered name within the turf war community? The Spooky Strawberries.
Who protected the students from the rival gang's attack when no adult helped? The Spooky Strawberries.
Who blew up the school's bathrooms because the toilet paper felt too sandpapery? Not the Spooky Strawberries (it was actually the Wobbly Watermelons of the West).
Unfortunately, the elusive strawberries of the night weren't always such good bois. Up until a year ago, the gang was just a ragtag group of wannabe edge-lords still stuck in their angsty, middle school days. To make things worse, they also had an edgy name: the Darkness of Anarchy (none of them were anarchist). No one expected the gang would change their evil ways, however, that all changed with one rookie transfer student who made his mark on the gangster world...
Despite the mixed emotions felt towards the Spooky Strawberries, many still avoided the infamous classroom altogether. Yet here was [Name], irritatedly standing in front of the graffitied door. Many students around the area murmured to each other, some prayed for the girl, others questioned her intelligence for going into Room 666.
Without a second thought, she entered.
The room was hazy with smoke, which scattered the cold, blue color the LED lights emitted. Goosebumps ran up [Name]'s arm as she broke through the still air. Desks were thrown sporadically and a garbled mess of graffiti covered the walls. Amongst the chaos was a clear phrase written in fresh blood red paint: 'it's not cuul to Juul in skuul.'
It reminded [Name] of Tumblr— chaotic good.
She scanned the room, searching for any signs of life. She heard a thud on the ground. Encircling her was a gang of tattooed teenagers littering the filthy floor. There was a murderous glint to their eye. Only a few held bats or crowbars, but all of them were threateningly Asian squatting in order to assert dominance over the small girl in middle. They were all wearing matching friendship bracelets.
In [Name]'s eyes, they seemed a bit too two-dimensional for the story, but, nonetheless, were still an absolute force to be feared.
She carefully tiptoed around the teenagers to the back of the room where she was greeted by a throne made of desks. A single bulb spotlighted the lone man sitting on the highest point. With a cigarette casually held between two fingers, green hair slicked back to reveal mint eyes, and the uniform's buttons and tie casually loosened, he was the epitome of the ideal delinquent. The small group of intimidating gang members crowding around their esteemed leader clearly conveyed this message of ferocity. The man exuded power.
