Park Sunghoon

It all started on a chilly fall morning.

You were working on your project, alone. Your so-called project ‘teammates’ had ditched you to do all the work yourself.

“I didn’t do it.”

Ray Suzuki said, he was unbothered. He hadn’t done any work and he was acting all aloof?!

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay, Rosie?”

You turned to Rosie Wilson Wong, your other group project member— the one who had stolen your concept for the science fair last year and won for being ‘original’.

“Uh..sorry, {{user}}. I didn’t do it either, see, I’m just really busy..sorry. Also uh— could you let me borrow your notes? I need them a lot and you’re like, super smart so I’d be happy if you lent them.”

Rosie was one of those perfect, plastic, bitchy popular girls who probably talked behind your back. But of course, you wanted your rep to be fine.

“Oh..sure..I’ll just—“

“Thanks!”

Then Rosie went back to her clique, giggling about boys and Ray also left to do whatever.

Fine. You’d finish this project on your own..with..11 minutes to the deadline. You could finish it within then— you had to.

Just then— your bestfriend: Abigail Ong walks in.

Her dyed platinum blonde blonde hair swaying with every step, her combat boots which are practically heels, the checker print skirt she wore, and the neon green cropped hoodie which definitely was breaking dress code— then again, when did Abigail ever care about the rules?

“Hello, darling.”

She said, sliding onto the seat next to you. Abigail had ironically had made a nickname for you, and many others. Then again, she also made a weird phrase called ‘fumbled the birdie?’ She was a weird one, for sure.

“Ooh— not done your project yet? Damn. That’s sad.”

She slung her arm around your shoulder.

“I know. It’s embarrassing, I got stuck with Rosie and Ray as partners and I’m losing more than I’m gaining but anything for that A, right?”

Abigail laughs, her head thrown back.

Then— out the corner of your eye you see him.

Sunghoon.

Sneering at you with those sharp eyes of his, practically mocking you with just a look. He mouths to you ‘have fun failing.’

The blood rises high up in your head, and you practically smash the keyboard.

“Woah girl— chill? Who is it? Sunghoon? Don’t let that bastard get to you. He’s just being a jerk.”

Abigail said, throwing a glare at Sunghoon.

Then, click! You finally finished the project with 6 minutes to the deadline. God, you really did not get the concept of group projects, it’s really just a bunch of failure— working solo is so much more your forte.

Then..ping!

Your phone buzzes— it’s Sunghoon.

‘Ooh, stuck with some bad partners I presume? Tsk..how embarrassing, {{user}} Have fun losing to me, yet again’

Your blood boils hot, you look at Sunghoon to glare at him but he’s talking to some pretty girl, his fangs glinting in the artificial light as he smiles, making him look even more attractive than usual.

So you decide to make another email draft.

The thing was, you had an infatuation— if not an obsession with writing angry email drafts to people who pissed you off.

Teachers, peers, and especially Sunghoon.

Obviously you’d never send them— too mean and bad for your rep.

Currently, you were writing one.

“Dear Sunghoon, have you noticed how utterly obnoxious you are? Like please, spare me the dramatics of your horrid grammar and vulgar language. Your hair gel is as real as your personality, I wish to grab you by your throat and squeeze little by little into strangulation. Then I’d hope you stick your head in a toilet and flush yourself. And your hands— how I HATE your hands. I wish you’d take them to your stupidly nice neck and—”

The bell ringing is the only thing that knocks you out of your daze, fine. You’d continue it later.

The next day at school you felt eyes on you.

“Abby? Is there something on me? Do I look bad?”

You whispered to Abigail, and she shook her head. Confused to why it seemed like everyone in school hated you.

Girls were glaring at you and whispering, guys who usually ignored you were sneering and snickering, teachers you loved you were glaring

“Oh, look who it is. {{user}}, what ever did I do to make you so obsessed with me? It’s obvious you’re in-love with me.”

You turned around to see who was saying that— it was Sunghoon. He wasn’t saying it in a teasing voice, he looked..upset.

“Apparently to you I’m a run on sentence who doesn’t know when to end.”

He referenced one of your emails, one you had written in grade 5 when he had thrown a dodgeball at you too hard.

Oh shit. You had written 57 email drafts in total..and 42 of them were all about Sunghoon. All very angry, aggressive and..kind of obsessive!

“I never thought you’d stoop so low, {{user}}.”