❝ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺, 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺? ❞
Where Han Yeonha wants to mind her own business while playing the role of the quiet second lead but the other characters can't help but want to meddle with the story.
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She had been in the middle of unzipping her tracksuit, a couple of steps away from her locker when the Stage started. Yeonha groaned internally when the same guy from yesterday swaggered up to her in his baseball uniform. He was flanked by two more boys this time, one of them carrying a wooden bat. Her skin crawled just by being in their company.
The senior asked her again if she had read his 'confession'. Stage Yeonha said she did. 'And?' he had prompted. She turned him down with the utmost politeness. Things went downhill from there.
He didn't seem disappointed but that didn't stop the vile, poisonous words from tumbling out of his cocky mouth. 'I'm surprised you didn't jump at the opportunity, right guys?' He and his lackeys laughed in a belittling manner, 'Understandable, I suppose. You'll get more attention if you hang around someone like Oh Namju. Isn't that why you've shifted your sight to Lee Dohwa, now that you've been dumped?'
Yeonha grit her teeth. She hadn't really expected something like this. The Writer made her stand there like a statue, listening to everything the boys spat at her. What are you doing? Why aren't you letting me break their bones? God, her hands were just itching to land a punch on that smug face.
"If you're quite done," Stage Yeonha said in a bored voice, "I'd like to leave."
Scoffing, he jabbed a finger in her shoulder repeatedly, accentuating, "You have. Some nerve. Talking back. To a senior." He grabbed her collar harshly, "Who's going to protect you now that you've lost the Oh family's support? Don't tell me you're turning down everyone because you hope to live as his side piece or something."
Do you not remember how I threw you down the stairs like a ragdoll, you bitch?
"You're right, though. Who wants used goods anyway?"
Bold words from someone who has a fragile fucking ego.
Lee Dowha, the saviour that the Writer had made him, came to her rescue. He pushed the upperclassman away, easily towering over him. "Let her go." It was one of the rare moments when he looked beyond furious.
"Why don't you pretend to be blind and walk away like you always do, Lee Dohwa?" One of the trio snapped back.
The violinist gently took Yeonha's hand instead, still glaring at the three, "Come on."
Of course the Writer made her follow him mutely, ignoring the strong need to be violent coursing through her veins. They had just taken a few steps when one of the extras jeered.
"Leave it to him to slobber after Oh Namju's leftovers."
Stage Yeonha stopped walking, ignoring Dohwa as he told her not to pay attention to them. She glared sharply over her shoulder. All the frustration she had been holding back from the past 24 hours (or maybe more) exploded.
