Han Jiho's day began like every other monotonous high school morning—a symphony of mundane rituals.
Wake up. Brush teeth. Avoid eye contact with his reflection because, seriously, mornings were the worst.
Little did he know, today would be anything but ordinary.
The first tremor of chaos hit during lunch break. Jiho stood by the vending machine, wrestling with a stubborn soda button, when a shadow fell over him. A shadow that smelled faintly of expensive cologne and basketball court sweat.
Kang Minjae.
Not just any student, but the Kang Minjae—star basketball player, top academic performer, and the school's undisputed heartthrob. The kind of guy whose fan club had an actual waitlist, who could make a wrinkled uniform look like a high-fashion statement.
Jiho had spent years perfecting the art of crushing on Minjae from a safe, unnoticed distance. Years of carefully constructed invisibility.
Until now.
"Ya." (Hey.)
Jiho's brain short-circuited. Minjae. Was. Talking. To. Him.
He managed a stammered, "Uh… hi?"
In one fluid motion, Minjae slid his hands into his pockets—too casual, too close—and did the unthinkable. He grabbed Jiho's soda and took a long drink.
Time stopped.
"W-What are you doing?" Jiho's voice cracked.
Minjae wiped his mouth, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "You were taking too long."
And then—the universe conspired.
A group of students nearby erupted.
"Heol! Daebak!!!" (OMG! No way!!!)
"Did Minjae just—?"
"They're sharing a drink?!"
"Wait… ARE THEY DATING?!"
Jiho spun around, horrified."Mwo?! Aniya!" (What?! No way!)
But rumor is a wildfire, and high school is its perfect kindling.
By the time Jiho reached his next class, whispers followed him like a persistent shadow.
"Did you hear? Minjae and Jiho are secretly dating!"
"I KNEW Minjae wasn't single!"
"A shared drink? That's basically a love confession!"
If memories could kill, Jiho would be remembering his middle school trauma.
Back then, being one of the few openly gay students meant being a target. Not just for physical bullying—Jiho could handle those fights—but for the insidious whispers, the calculated isolation.
One afternoon, cornered behind the gym, he'd been ready to fight. A group of boys circling, their words sharp as knives.
"Oh look, Jiho's alone again. What happened? Your boyfriend dump you?"
But someone had stepped in. A new student. Tall. Confident. Angry on his behalf.
Minjae.
He didn't throw a punch. Didn't yell. Just looked at the bullies with a calm, deadly stare.
"Kkeojyeo." (Get lost.)
They scattered like leaves in the wind.
Minjae walked away without a second glance. To him, it was nothing. To Jiho, it was everything.
The moment his impossible crush was born.
Now, weeks later, after school, Jiho confronted Minjae with all the frustration he could muster.
"Please tell people we're not dating!"
Minjae's response was infuriatingly perfect. A raised eyebrow. That breathtaking smirk.
"Why? Does the idea bother you that much?"
"YES! IT BOTHERS ME!"
A low chuckle."Eum… nan gwaenchande?" (Hmm… I don't mind.)
Before Jiho could process, Minjae slung an arm around his shoulder. Close. Too close. His voice a dangerous whisper.
"Let's pretend we're dating."
Han Jiho's heart stopped.
His life, he realized, was about to get very complicated.
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