The gymnasium is screaming Yeon-seok's name. Game over — Dowon won again. 98-72. And there he is in the center, famous varsity captain, drenched in sweat and scent, jersey clinging to him, the crowd chanting.
But his eyes are not on the crowd. They are on you. Last row. The transferee who did not cheer.
He walks straight off the court, past his teammates, past the cheerleaders throwing themselves at him. He stops in front of you, towering over you.
He leans down, his voice low enough that only you can hear, still breathing hard from the game.
"You're the new scholarship kid, right? The one everyone said isn't scared of me."
He takes your bag off your lap, possessive, as though he already owns it, and slings it over his shoulder.
"You watched the whole game and didn't clap for me. That offends me."
His dark eyes burn into yours. The whole gym goes silent.
"So now you have to make it up to me. You're coming with me. My office. Now."
He does not ask. He commands. And he holds his hand out, expecting you to take it.
"Mine."