| Fan Fiction |
by xyaytraycee
“You know him?” I whispered, pointing to the seemingly self-centered boy standing in the middle of the crowd.
“Yes, well, no, well…” he stammered, not tearing his dark eyes away from Kwon Jiyong. “He’s…he’s…he does a lot of underground rap. Oh gosh, I can’t believe Kwon Jiyong is coming to our school.” I stared at my brother, stars literally popping out of his eyes, a stupid grin on his face.
“Underground,” I muttered to myself, “figures.” Then it hit me. “Wait, what did you just say? He’s coming to our school?”
“Duh, Noona, don’t be so slow,” Seungri grinned at me. I snorted. And this was said by the kid who actually thought my eyeballs would fall out of their sockets. I ignored his comment and looked back up at Mr. Kwon Jiyong, attempting to do it discreetly might I add, but damn! The two idiots were right. Upon his slender, muscular body lay a very clean, very unwrinkled uniform that unfortunately belonged to the school I attend.
“Student Choi Taeyoung? Has she arrived yet?” the headmaster spoke, squinting his already squinty eyes in the crowd of students.
“Eh? Noona, the headmaster is calling for you,” Seungri said loudly as I crouched down lower, lower until I felt my bare knees touch the tiny rocks on the concrete.
“I know,” I hissed, “I’m not here, tell him I went to work or something…or to the library…Seungri, stop it!” I glared at my cousin, who began to jump up and down, attempting to wave the headmaster down. “Seungri!” Despite that I was wearing a stupid skirt, I still tried to run...or rather, crawl away. But of course, even I was no match for my big mouthed cousin for I had just reached the tip of the crowd when…
“Taeyoung, what are you doing on the ground?” The headmaster’s shiny, black shoes appeared in my vision as I felt my stomach dropped. Damn it. I got busted.
“I…uh…I…found a nickel!” I exclaimed loudly, reaching secretly into my pocket, hoping there just happened to be a nickel in there. “Damn,” I swore, feeling nothing but lint. “Heh, well, it looks like I lost it. Gotta go now, Headmaster, education awaits!” Turning to the right of him, I slowly attempted, once again, to crawl away. But, again, I was stopped by another pair of shoes, a pair of very new Converse. “Aw, crap,” I muttered.
“Stand up, Taeyoung,” the headmaster ordered, and Mr. Kwon Jiyong extended a hand out at me, a huge grin on his face. A grin that I definitely wanted to slap. Ignoring his hand, I helped myself up without showing the world my white underwear. Brushing the gravel off of my knees and straightening out my skirt, I stood up straight, glaring at the ground. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kwon, she isn’t usually like this. She’s one of our brightest students…on a good day, I suppose.” The headmaster crinkled his fat nose at me in disapproval. Like I said, I wasn’t too fond of him either.
“Good morning to you too, Headmaster,” I grumbled, straightening my school blouse and blowing the stray strands of hair off of my face. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said, fixing the strap of my school bag, the numerous textbooks inside practically dragging me down to the concrete again, “I shouldn’t be late for my first class, you know, punctuality is a necessity!” I cringed at my horrible choice of words as I walked around Mr. Kwon Jiyong.
“That’s right, Miss Choi,” I heard the headmaster say behind me, a sneaky grin crawling across his face, “and that is why you’ll be appointed to help Mr. Kwon here settle in.” I stopped immediately in my tracks, a frustrated groan escaping from my lips. Have I mentioned that I didn’t like him a whole lot? I slowly turned around, my small eyes resting upon those belonging to Mr. Kwon Jiyong. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him, with his Aviators, his conceited grin, his expensive hair, his expensive shoes, and his uniform messily done to a point that it actually looks neat. I sighed once again, nodded my head at him once, then turning to walk back into the school. “Er, I believe that’s her cue for you to follow her, Mr. Kwon,” I heard the headmaster’s distant voice say, followed by a pair of Converses slapping against the concrete.
“Annyeong haseyo,” he grinned, attempting to keep up with my quick steps. He stuck a hand out in front of me, causing me to stop once again. “I’m Kwon Jiyong. Maybe you know me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, waving away the politeness and his attempt at introduction, also totally ignoring his very egotistic comments. “Look, you don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you.” His smile faltered slightly and his hand dropped to his side. Good. I stuck out my hand in front of him, palm faced up, looking at him expectantly. I guess he must’ve though a miracle had happened because that arrogant smirk of his appeared on his face faster than magic; and immediately he stuck his hand into mine, shaking it. I stared at him with one of my famous are-you-really-stupider-than-you-look kind of stares. Once again, his supposed award winning smile faltering. “Your schedule?”
“Oh,” he said, the smile completely wiped off his face. “Right.” He reached into the back pocket of his pants, which were hung so dangerously low on his hips, and handed me the slip of paper that was folded in half both ways. Literally snatching it from him, I opened it, scanning.
“Oh God,” I sighed to myself, thrusting the sheet back at his chest. “Follow me.” I turned and headed into the school, it’s familiar, freezing air conditioning hitting me like a block of ice. With him quick on my tail, I weaved through the numerous student-clones; all dressed alike, also all pointing and whispering at him. Finally, we reached our destination. “When we go in, just tell the teacher you’re new,” I hissed at him, “you don’t know me, okay?”
“Oh…kay,” he said slowly, his thin brow furrowing. I huffed and pushed open the door, bowing and greeting everyone in sight. I walked to the very back of the room, setting my back on my desk and taking a seat. Almost like a bomb exploding, whispers erupted through the room.
“Hey,” one of my best friends, Minkyung, turned around in her seat, leaning her thin arms on my desk.
“What,” I said flatly, taking out my textbooks.
“Who’s that?” she asked, her small eyes deeply amazed by Jiyong.
“Nobody,” I muttered, slamming the textbooks on the desk loudly, causing her to jump away from my desk.
“Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” my other best friend, Hyunae, smirked at me.
“No,” I replied, mimicking her tone.
“I think he knows you,” Minkyung continued on about Jiyong.
“He does not know me,” I protested, continuing to fidget with my school supplies.
“Oh yeah?” Minkyung smirked as well, clearly amused. “Then why is he pointing at you?”
“Oh no,” I groaned softly, setting my head on my desk. “I’m not here, okay?”
“Miss Choi Taeyoung!” my teacher’s girly voice called. And I, being one of the biggest suck-ups in school, had no choice but to respond. After all, it was in my blood.
“Yes?” I replied meekly, slowly lifting up my head.
“Is it true that you were appointed Mr. Kwon’s guide today?” my teacher asked me, although she wasn’t looking at me. No, no, no, because apparently, when Mr. Kwon Jiyong is present…you can’t see anyone but him! Nope, you can’t see anyone but him and his big fat ego.
“Yes,” I grumbled, my meek voice gone.
“Then you should do your job, young lady! Don’t leave Mr. Kwon standing up here. Hyunae, move up a desk!” the teacher barked, glaring at Hyunae, who had moved one desk back after the student who had previously sat beside me moved away. And it also just so happened that it was also the only desk vacant in the entire room! I was going to have to thank that student later.
Not.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hyunae said, shooting me an apologetic look. Thanks a lot, friend. Jiyong walked, sauntered, sleazed his way down the aisle. He grinned at me, sitting down sideways, still looking at me. I ignored his eyes, staring down at the homework I had pored over last night. I could feel his gaze burning on me, but I was stubborn enough to not look, instead, fidgeted with my newly sharpened number 2 pencil. But I lacked will power, unfortunately, since I finally gave up. I finally turned my head towards him, looking at him in the eye.
“What?” I hissed at him. “Stop looking at me.” He opened his large mouth to say something before…ring. The school bell rang. School had officially begun.
“Hey,” I heard him whisper at me. “Hey!” I ignored him once again, my new pencil scrawling across my notebook, my focus totally not on the lesson that the teacher was rambling on about. “Hey!” He threw a rolled up paper ball at me.
“What?” I hissed at him, still attempting to take notes.
“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” I huffed and rolled my eyes, sticking my hand into my backpack to pull out a black pen, tossing it over on his desk. Hoping for peace for the rest of class, I turned back to my diligent note-taking. It took exactly four minutes before I heard from him again. “Hey!” came his whispered voice, and ping! came another paper ball at me. Once more, I tried to avoid his constant pestering. God, he was worse than Seungri on a bad day. “Hey!” he reached over, poking me on the arm. That boy I had nerve, I’ll tell you that. “Taeyoung ah!” Oh, so we were on first name basis, were we now? “Taeyoung!” He threw the pen I had so generously lent him at my arm, causing it to bounce and land in my lap.
“What?!” I exclaimed loudly, loud enough for the class to stop and question my insanity.
“Miss Choi Taeyoung!” the teacher scolded me for disrupting the class.
“Can I borrow a piece of paper? And…uh, a pen?” he innocently and nonchalantly grinned at me, as if stopping the class mid-lesson was an every day occurrence.
“Aiyo!” I exclaimed, quite frustrated. I once again, angrily, reached into my bag and pulled out my spare notebook, along with my spare pack of pens. “There, keep it!”
“Taeyoung!” the teacher exclaimed in shock. “Headmaster’s office! Now!”
“But—“ I attempted to protest, feeling as if I did nothing wrong.
“Now,” the teacher glared at me, causing me to stand up. I grabbed my bag off of my chair and slung it around my neck and stomped out of the classroom.
“Good for nothing, gangster-wannabe, rich snob,” I huffed, continuing to stomp my way down the empty hallway towards the headmaster’s office. I finally reached my unwanted destination, placing my hand upon the cold, metal knob. I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and turned the knob, allowing my goody-two-shoes self inside.
“Oh, Taeyoung, hi, sweetie!” the secretary greeted me brightly. “Are you here about the new student? Isn’t he such a doll? Very good looking, that kid is!” I gaped at her. Jiyong really had his way with the ladies, even causing this ajumma to gush about him with star-stuck eyes!
“N-no,” I replied, gasping back my shock. “I’m here to see the headmaster.”
“Well, go right on in,” she replied, going back to typing on her computer, “I think he’s in there with your brother.”
“Which one?” I asked, but she only responded by waving me in. I shrugged and opened the door to the headmaster’s office, allowing myself into another room.
“…violence isn’t allowed on this campus, Mr. Lee,” I heard the headmaster say sternly, causing me to look down to see a single spikey-headed teenage boy, sitting in front of a very angry, short, chubby school principal. I almost groaned out loud. Today was simply not my day, was it? I lightly knocked on the door, grasping the attention of the two males. “Oh, Miss Choi, is something the matter?”
“No,” I grumbled, walking over and slouching down in the seat beside Seungri. “But before we start with my troubles, start with his.” I pointed at my cousin. “What are you doing in here?” I glared at him, and the sight of him was more than enough to satisfy my need in an answer. “Oh my God,” I gasped, staring at the purple ring around his already dark eyes. “What did you do now?!” I exclaimed, reaching out for it, touching his wound lightly. He flinched.
“Noona, that hurts,” he whined.
“Serves you right!” I huffed, taking my hand back and crossing my arms over my chest. “Who told you to get into a fight?”
“Exactly,” the headmaster nodded in approval, “Seungri, you know violence is not allowed. Why did you do it?” Seungri looked down, mumbling something quite incomprehensible. “Seungri?”
“Speak up, boy!” I exclaimed at him, truly angry. He knows he should never raise his fists; hell, I was the one that taught him that!
“The other kids in my class were calling Seunghyun hyung mental!” Seungri suddenly burst out. “I had to hit them!” I stared at him. This was a new one, even to me.