[Fic] Dare you to move : two
Title: Dare you to Move
Pairing: Jaemin
Length: Chapter 2/10
Genre: high school AU,angst,drama
Warnings: bullying. bullying
(Plz don't hate/bash me, there has to be excessive bullying for there to be a bodyguard. :P)
Story request by rikuma, i hope you like it! <3
Summary : Changmin is the loser who everyone bullies at school. He's also the only son of the city's governor. Will an undercover bodyguard be able to protect him from everything without spilling his secret?
A/N: this chap is the first day at his new school ~ (so still background stage before going back to present time!) these chaps are shorter than i usually do so it feels weird but that means i'll update faster XD;
*************
Previous Chapters:
| one |
**
It was a prestigious private academy, no more dangerous public schooling for him, even though it had just been to prove their family was humbly a part of the general community despite his father’s position. They had wanted him to grow in a common typical school, not wanting his background to interfere with having ordinary social interactions and development, wanting and expecting him to make friends with other children like himself. The middle class, those whose families supported and trusted his father to protect their interests and hear their voices.
But the morning he was to start attending his new school, his mother had spoken to him behind his father’s back. Had told him he’d finally get an education worthy of his talent. Here at Chungdam High School where only the elite were allowed in with a generous education fee meant to boast of their rank and power in society.
Changmin was too nervous to care about any of that, if anything rich kids scared him more than those of average wealth as he knew nothing about the group, not knowing how he could fit in to it and too scarred from his recent experiences to even hope of entering with a positive mindset.
His stomach was churning sickeningly as the gates loomed above him. Yoochun was telling him to breathe, that they had come early so he’d have plenty of time to get settled before hand, to meet the principal and find his way around the school. The usually calming voice sounded oddly fuzzy as if playing on mute, and Changmin couldn’t think of anything except for how desperately he wished Yoochun would come inside with him.
But he wasn’t a child anymore. He already felt ashamed and painfully young before the suave older man as he tucked his broken arm to his side protectively and clambered out of the car on shaky legs. He stood there frozen for a moment, hearing the hiss of the window roll down and feeling rather than hearing Yoochun lean towards it to give him some final encouragement.
He couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want the man he respected so much to see the pure terror in his eyes. The size of the building was intimidating, dark and majestic against the grey wash of early autumn sky. It would soon be teeming with crowds of people, students who would all stare at him. Most likely point and whisper. He didn’t know how this place could be any different since he’d already become so accustomed to the ways of his peers who commanded the public school system.
He barely heard as Yoochun promised he’d watch until he was inside, and that he would be there waiting for him when school got out that afternoon. Nothing he could say would make the anxiety dissipate, not with the threat of a whole day of new school horribly soon before him.
Walking on legs that were nearly numb, he forced himself to move forward and resist the urge to look back at the man sitting quietly in the car behind him. The guard at the gate was old and wrinkled, eyeing him as he stood awkwardly in his freshly ironed and pressed new school uniform.
A call was made and someone was coming down to the gates to greet him. Changmin couldn’t focus on what they told him, answers lost in stutters and panic as he left the Principal’s office in a blur with his new timetable clutched in clammy fingers, the staff member meant to guide him disappearing from his side with a jumble of directions and then he was alone.
By then there were already a few students drifting down the hallways, eyeing him with open curiosity as he stumbled in the direction the teacher had indicated. He could hear the low murmuring noise of talking from a far off lunchroom and the sound instantly sent anxiety spiraling through his chest and dread sinking heavily into his stomach.
A whole new school of strangers who would judge him and he didn’t think he had the confidence to try and face that. Not with the cruel words of bullies still unerased from his mind. Not with his broken arm not yet healed but hidden under his uniform sweater.
There was nothing safe here, nothing he recognized, and no one to protect him from it all. No Yoochun to make him feel guarded and strong, to make him smile and laugh right at those moments when he was feeling uncomfortable or unhappy.
It was a few minutes before he realized he was lost. Corridors and stairs and doorways all looking the same around him. No signs nor friendly looking people to ask for help. The slip of paper crumpled in his hand didn’t tell him any more than his classroom number and list of courses.
Panic was making his breath short, the hallway dimming and tiling dangerously before his eyes. He squeezed them closed and struggled to take calming deep breaths and regain what little of his senses he could. He was a smart boy, but smart boys weren’t any less prone than other to getting lost or disoriented in new places.
He’d have to retrace his steps and find the staff room again to ask for help. As soon as he thought it he was already on his way, now starting to worry that he’d be horribly late to his very first class and have to suffer through the embarrassment of interrupting to be introduced to a class of staring eyes.
All his fears were met as the halls began to fill up with students making their way to classes. They gave him wide berth, following him with their eyes, turning to look back over shoulders and already beginning to whisper none too discreetly behind their hands.
Then the flow was dwindling, thinning, and the first teacher he was able to run into was the disciplinary hall duty. Somehow managing to explain himself in a jumble of words directed at the end of the ruler pointed threateningly in his face, the man was refreshingly uncaring and unimpressed by his newness, leading him personally to the front of his classroom and shoving open the door with a stern warning he wouldn’t be let off so easily starting the following day.
Changmin didn’t have a choice but to walk into the open waiting classroom, and stared fixedly at the teacher going through papers at the front of the room as the noisy boisterous chatter slowly and surely faltered then dropped. It was silent by the time the door clicked shut behind him and the teacher merely nodded for him to come closer.
He couldn’t look up through his introduction, bowing quickly before the group and hiding behind his bangs, trying to resist the urge to chew on his lip nervously. It seemed like ages before he was directed to his seat, and he found himself in the dead center of the room surrounded by whispering students.
“Not very friendly, is he?” One commented with a chuckle that a few others imitated.
“Don’t you remember when Junhee was new? Must just be nervous.” Someone else responded offhandedly.
“Nothing to be nervous about unless he’s got something to hide.” The boy sitting directly beside him spoke up. Turning to him as he continued, “Now, do you?”
Changmin looked up at last to furtively meet the boy’s eyes. He could feel heavy gazes on him from all sides, students even leaning over their desks to peer at him more closely.
“Excuse me?” He managed to ask, heart already sinking at the way the boy’s lip curled slightly upon seeing his face.
“You must be aware of who’s allowed in our school. It doesn’t matter if you’re a genius if you come from a bad brood. Who’s your father?”
Taken aback by the blunt directness of the question, the rude way the other stared at him as if he were something dirty brought into his sanitized clean territory on the bottom of a shoe. It was a look he had already expected, had dreaded to see all along, and now it was confirmed. A certainty filling him with the truth that this boy was the same as all the others, and it had him freezing up, mind gone unhelpfully blank.
“Can’t tell us, huh? Looks like you’re fully aware that a nobody like yourself shouldn’t be here.” Came the sneering reply, and he could already feel the way the judging stares were changing.
He didn’t have the guts to speak up and deny it. Didn’t know how to free the words, to tell of his father’s name and position when he’d learned the hard way that it was something he should keep a secret. And now it would be the reason he would once again be disliked. But he couldn’t find the courage to face the room, to brag to them about who he was like it was a privileged title or label when it was really something he was so personally proud of.
And he’d expected this. Knew it didn’t matter if they knew his father or not. Because his father wasn’t here now to prove it, to force them to believe him, to make them shut their mouths in feigned respect.
It was already too late anyway. His silence had been interpreted as a confirmation, and speaking up now would only sound like him scrambling to cover up and lie about it. It didn’t matter that the teacher had called for silence and that the class was starting, it didn’t stop the boy behind him from whispering loudly that they would check him out at lunch hour and determine then if he deserved initiation or not.
Changmin focused intently on the lesson. Feeling too nervous and sick to do anything else, time that he’d wished would pass by quickly now going all too fast as the threat of a lunchtime confrontation scrambled to the forefront of his mind.
He was terrified. This school was most definitely worse than the last, and he decided if he even got through this day that he would refuse to return the next.
Changmin wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was sure he’d failed all their social tests as they sat him in the middle of the cafeteria, students from other classes curiously crowding around as they pelted him with questions.
Although he hadn’t spoken up once during the morning class hours, someone had obviously peeked at what he’d been writing in his notebooks. They didn’t fail to mention that he’d written out every last answer to the algebra problems three pages ahead of where the teacher was explaining.
They asked if he was a show off or a some sort of math whiz. They wanted to know the name of his old school, his rank in his old class. His mind was numb and he answered stupidly, honestly. A school that everyone knew to be in the heart of the old market district. Dirty and overrun with delinquents and those too poor to send to a better school.
Even ranking first in such a place made him look bad as they said it either meant he was a suck up nerd who thought he was better than everyone or a genius who’d been scouted by the education board and sent to their school on a scholarship. Either way a lowlife given an opportunity and chance that he wasn’t meant to have.
He couldn’t understand where they got all their conclusions or information from, and didn’t point out that it was neither. He told them who his father was, but by that point they only laughed just like he’d expected them to. No son of a politician, the governor no less, would ever have attended such a rat nest as his old school.
They asked if he was stupid, if he thought they were stupid to be bought with pathetic lies. They wanted to know if he was really trying to avoid punishment or if he was just mocking them to piss them off on purpose. Above all they asked if he knew who he was dealing with. And he wished to god he did.
He shook his head frantically as they interrogated him further while fingers jabbed at his forehead repeatedly, tipping his head back pathetically over and over. He couldn’t think through the patronizing action, unable to do anything but stutter more answers that only seemed to dig his hole deeper, the murmurs of increasing irritation scaring him as hands behind him gladly pushed him forward again to meet the hand that cuffed his ear knocking his glasses askew.
The bell signaling the end of lunch hour was what saved him, but he wasn’t even sure if it was a salvation or merely a postponement of more ill treatment as things were whispered in his ears. Promises that they’d meet him after school to give him a proper welcome. Expressions of concern to the fact he’d have to relocate schools again since he’d obviously been sent to the wrong place.
They left him amidst the rush of feet on linoleum and happily carefree talking and laughter. A flowing ebbing wave of bodies surging around him, past him, poking, pushing, just looking, threatening, before falling away and leaving him alone and disheveled in a quickly emptying room. His stomach was in knots and familiar hot tears were stinging the backs of his eyes.
Hardly half a day had passed and not one person had approached him in true welcome, no extended hand or offer of friendship, no friendly smiles or honest curiosity. Because rumors flew faster than words, and his story had already swept through the school by way of scribbled notes on crumpled paper slipped discreetly between hands in bathrooms and hallways.
He was the new kid from the low side of town, an eighth grader skipping up to the next grade in the middle of the school year proving he was too smart for his own good. A ‘commoner’ who’d think he’d take up the free scholarship to attend their prestigious school and on top of it lie to them all about his family to pretend that he actually fit in.
Really, he had no idea what was going on or what he’d gotten into and simply focused on the one thing that made sense to him at that point - that being his studies.
He blocked out the whispers and comments out of habit, knowing only too well the tone of disgruntled jealousy as he managed to get some form of praise out of each and every one of the afternoon instructors. He knew he should have pretended to know nothing, stayed quiet and dumb, but he was operating off long formed habits that had been the only way he survived his old school.
Everything was the same and he soon forgot he was even surrounded by strangers. Their faces may be different, but inside they were all the same. He didn’t even give them the benefit of a doubt, not even a chance, since that was how they’d already treated him, judged him and found him lacking.
He was surprised by the sound of the tone ending classes, and sat hunched over his notebook pencil freezing mid sentence. A chorus of voices giving the teacher the final greeting and then it fell silent as the man left the room.
Changmin still didn’t move, staring fixedly down at his page, the words and lines blurring before his eyes. He was afraid. For once he didn’t know what to expect. He knew they would torment him, but he knew nothing of their methods, of the social groups or leaders. Didn’t know what was in store for him and that paralyzed him more thoroughly than the sound of chairs scraping back as students got to their feet.
Distractedly he noticed that almost all of the class seemed to be packing up their things, hardly sparing him any more attention. But there was the low conversation in the back of the room with snatches of his name and he knew that those were the ones he’d have to answer to.
The room wasn’t even fully empty before they came over the his desk, surrounding him in a suffocating circle, hands placed boldly on the surface of the wood, the lead tip snapping as they knocked his pencil from his hand. It clattered and bounced to the floor as he merely continued to stare holes into his books. Until they too were swept to the ground in a flurry of pages and fluttering paper.
“Kid wont even look at us.”
“Obviously knows not to mess with us.”
“Knows he’s made a mistake coming here, doesn’t he?”
Changmin bit his lip, closing his eyes and wishing it would just already be over. Wishing he could just be back at his old school where routine had made things boring and predictable at best.
Fingers were grasping onto his chin, forcing him to raise his head and he opened his eyes to see four boys surrounding him.
“No need to look so dejected, Changmin-ah.” One smiled at him. It didn’t look cruel, but the very fact of him standing there before him now meant it would lead to something less kind.
“Right. We’re going to give you a chance to prove yourself of course. You didn’t think we were that unfriendly as to peg you without even checking our sources, did you?”
Changmin blinked at them in confusion, not understanding what they were talking about.
“It’s quite simple, really.”
They didn’t clear up his confusion with any more explanations before hands curled in the front of his shirt and helped him to his feet. There was no way for him to guess that the next thing would be a punch to the gut. Or a rough slap in the face.
Caught off guard he fell to the side, stumbling and tripping over a chair awkwardly, falling to the floor together with it in a noisy crash. Unable to catch himself he splayed out pathetically on his back, arms flying wide, his broken arm resonating with a painful crack against the floor.
He curled around it instinctively, unable to hold back a gasp of pain. The boys stared down at him with various expressions of surprise.
“Dang. He went down easy...”
“Seems used to this. Wouldn’t doubt it based on where he’s come from.”
Changmin didn’t move until the pain faded. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, refusing to meet their eyes and deciding to stay put on the floor rather than risk standing only to be knocked down again.
“What do you want?” He asked softly, staring at their sneakers.
One crouched down before him, tilting his head to look into his face. Changmin reluctantly looked up to see him watching him solemnly.
“Hey, now. We aren’t some thugs like those you’re used to dealing with. We just need to test you. If you pass, our parents will apologize handsomely on our behalf and we can be friends. But if you don’t, you’ll have no choice but to get your dirty ass out of our school.” He smiled. “Understand?”
Changmin didn’t, but he waited for the boy to get over himself and continue. The other three moved to circle him again, obeying even before the boy who seemed to be the leader told them to hold him. They grabbed his arms, the one on the left stopping in surprise as he felt the hard material of the cast through his sleeve. Pulling back the sweater, the white gauze was exposed.
“Shit. What the heck?” The boy jerked his arm around to show the others.
“Well that proves he’s obviously a liar.” One droned.
The leader tapped a finger nail on the material. “Doesn’t change anything. No need to rough him up too much, just make it readily visible then.”
Readily visible seemed to refer to hands holding him still as another slapped and punched him directly in the face a few times. He didn’t make a sound during the few minutes of abuse. His lip splitting, and hot blood flooding the area struck until his jaw and cheek felt battered and inflamed.
They released him quickly after that and Changmin was surprised. He’d expected worse, but it all made sense when leader got back up in his space.
“All you need to do is go home and tell daddy what happened to your face at school today. Tomorrow the truth will be out if your Governor Shim sends a complaint to the school and my father has to send compensation. Easy right?”
Changmin stared at him in disbelief. Beating him up only for their parents to retaliate and prove his status? It was ridiculous. A play at power and manipulation. Of students with too much time, too rich and bored to do anything else but devise interesting ways to cause drama.
They took his expression as one of desperate dismay, smiling and turning to collect their things.
“See you tomorrow, Shim.” Bags slung over shoulders as they pushed desks and chairs out of their path towards the door.
A derisive snort. “If he even shows up.”
And then he was alone.
****
next chapter~
Pairing: Jaemin
Length: Chapter 2/10
Genre: high school AU,angst,drama
Warnings: bullying. bullying
(Plz don't hate/bash me, there has to be excessive bullying for there to be a bodyguard. :P)
Story request by rikuma, i hope you like it! <3
Summary : Changmin is the loser who everyone bullies at school. He's also the only son of the city's governor. Will an undercover bodyguard be able to protect him from everything without spilling his secret?
A/N: this chap is the first day at his new school ~ (so still background stage before going back to present time!) these chaps are shorter than i usually do so it feels weird but that means i'll update faster XD;
*************
Previous Chapters:
| one |
**
It was a prestigious private academy, no more dangerous public schooling for him, even though it had just been to prove their family was humbly a part of the general community despite his father’s position. They had wanted him to grow in a common typical school, not wanting his background to interfere with having ordinary social interactions and development, wanting and expecting him to make friends with other children like himself. The middle class, those whose families supported and trusted his father to protect their interests and hear their voices.
But the morning he was to start attending his new school, his mother had spoken to him behind his father’s back. Had told him he’d finally get an education worthy of his talent. Here at Chungdam High School where only the elite were allowed in with a generous education fee meant to boast of their rank and power in society.
Changmin was too nervous to care about any of that, if anything rich kids scared him more than those of average wealth as he knew nothing about the group, not knowing how he could fit in to it and too scarred from his recent experiences to even hope of entering with a positive mindset.
His stomach was churning sickeningly as the gates loomed above him. Yoochun was telling him to breathe, that they had come early so he’d have plenty of time to get settled before hand, to meet the principal and find his way around the school. The usually calming voice sounded oddly fuzzy as if playing on mute, and Changmin couldn’t think of anything except for how desperately he wished Yoochun would come inside with him.
But he wasn’t a child anymore. He already felt ashamed and painfully young before the suave older man as he tucked his broken arm to his side protectively and clambered out of the car on shaky legs. He stood there frozen for a moment, hearing the hiss of the window roll down and feeling rather than hearing Yoochun lean towards it to give him some final encouragement.
He couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want the man he respected so much to see the pure terror in his eyes. The size of the building was intimidating, dark and majestic against the grey wash of early autumn sky. It would soon be teeming with crowds of people, students who would all stare at him. Most likely point and whisper. He didn’t know how this place could be any different since he’d already become so accustomed to the ways of his peers who commanded the public school system.
He barely heard as Yoochun promised he’d watch until he was inside, and that he would be there waiting for him when school got out that afternoon. Nothing he could say would make the anxiety dissipate, not with the threat of a whole day of new school horribly soon before him.
Walking on legs that were nearly numb, he forced himself to move forward and resist the urge to look back at the man sitting quietly in the car behind him. The guard at the gate was old and wrinkled, eyeing him as he stood awkwardly in his freshly ironed and pressed new school uniform.
A call was made and someone was coming down to the gates to greet him. Changmin couldn’t focus on what they told him, answers lost in stutters and panic as he left the Principal’s office in a blur with his new timetable clutched in clammy fingers, the staff member meant to guide him disappearing from his side with a jumble of directions and then he was alone.
By then there were already a few students drifting down the hallways, eyeing him with open curiosity as he stumbled in the direction the teacher had indicated. He could hear the low murmuring noise of talking from a far off lunchroom and the sound instantly sent anxiety spiraling through his chest and dread sinking heavily into his stomach.
A whole new school of strangers who would judge him and he didn’t think he had the confidence to try and face that. Not with the cruel words of bullies still unerased from his mind. Not with his broken arm not yet healed but hidden under his uniform sweater.
There was nothing safe here, nothing he recognized, and no one to protect him from it all. No Yoochun to make him feel guarded and strong, to make him smile and laugh right at those moments when he was feeling uncomfortable or unhappy.
It was a few minutes before he realized he was lost. Corridors and stairs and doorways all looking the same around him. No signs nor friendly looking people to ask for help. The slip of paper crumpled in his hand didn’t tell him any more than his classroom number and list of courses.
Panic was making his breath short, the hallway dimming and tiling dangerously before his eyes. He squeezed them closed and struggled to take calming deep breaths and regain what little of his senses he could. He was a smart boy, but smart boys weren’t any less prone than other to getting lost or disoriented in new places.
He’d have to retrace his steps and find the staff room again to ask for help. As soon as he thought it he was already on his way, now starting to worry that he’d be horribly late to his very first class and have to suffer through the embarrassment of interrupting to be introduced to a class of staring eyes.
All his fears were met as the halls began to fill up with students making their way to classes. They gave him wide berth, following him with their eyes, turning to look back over shoulders and already beginning to whisper none too discreetly behind their hands.
Then the flow was dwindling, thinning, and the first teacher he was able to run into was the disciplinary hall duty. Somehow managing to explain himself in a jumble of words directed at the end of the ruler pointed threateningly in his face, the man was refreshingly uncaring and unimpressed by his newness, leading him personally to the front of his classroom and shoving open the door with a stern warning he wouldn’t be let off so easily starting the following day.
Changmin didn’t have a choice but to walk into the open waiting classroom, and stared fixedly at the teacher going through papers at the front of the room as the noisy boisterous chatter slowly and surely faltered then dropped. It was silent by the time the door clicked shut behind him and the teacher merely nodded for him to come closer.
He couldn’t look up through his introduction, bowing quickly before the group and hiding behind his bangs, trying to resist the urge to chew on his lip nervously. It seemed like ages before he was directed to his seat, and he found himself in the dead center of the room surrounded by whispering students.
“Not very friendly, is he?” One commented with a chuckle that a few others imitated.
“Don’t you remember when Junhee was new? Must just be nervous.” Someone else responded offhandedly.
“Nothing to be nervous about unless he’s got something to hide.” The boy sitting directly beside him spoke up. Turning to him as he continued, “Now, do you?”
Changmin looked up at last to furtively meet the boy’s eyes. He could feel heavy gazes on him from all sides, students even leaning over their desks to peer at him more closely.
“Excuse me?” He managed to ask, heart already sinking at the way the boy’s lip curled slightly upon seeing his face.
“You must be aware of who’s allowed in our school. It doesn’t matter if you’re a genius if you come from a bad brood. Who’s your father?”
Taken aback by the blunt directness of the question, the rude way the other stared at him as if he were something dirty brought into his sanitized clean territory on the bottom of a shoe. It was a look he had already expected, had dreaded to see all along, and now it was confirmed. A certainty filling him with the truth that this boy was the same as all the others, and it had him freezing up, mind gone unhelpfully blank.
“Can’t tell us, huh? Looks like you’re fully aware that a nobody like yourself shouldn’t be here.” Came the sneering reply, and he could already feel the way the judging stares were changing.
He didn’t have the guts to speak up and deny it. Didn’t know how to free the words, to tell of his father’s name and position when he’d learned the hard way that it was something he should keep a secret. And now it would be the reason he would once again be disliked. But he couldn’t find the courage to face the room, to brag to them about who he was like it was a privileged title or label when it was really something he was so personally proud of.
And he’d expected this. Knew it didn’t matter if they knew his father or not. Because his father wasn’t here now to prove it, to force them to believe him, to make them shut their mouths in feigned respect.
It was already too late anyway. His silence had been interpreted as a confirmation, and speaking up now would only sound like him scrambling to cover up and lie about it. It didn’t matter that the teacher had called for silence and that the class was starting, it didn’t stop the boy behind him from whispering loudly that they would check him out at lunch hour and determine then if he deserved initiation or not.
Changmin focused intently on the lesson. Feeling too nervous and sick to do anything else, time that he’d wished would pass by quickly now going all too fast as the threat of a lunchtime confrontation scrambled to the forefront of his mind.
He was terrified. This school was most definitely worse than the last, and he decided if he even got through this day that he would refuse to return the next.
Changmin wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was sure he’d failed all their social tests as they sat him in the middle of the cafeteria, students from other classes curiously crowding around as they pelted him with questions.
Although he hadn’t spoken up once during the morning class hours, someone had obviously peeked at what he’d been writing in his notebooks. They didn’t fail to mention that he’d written out every last answer to the algebra problems three pages ahead of where the teacher was explaining.
They asked if he was a show off or a some sort of math whiz. They wanted to know the name of his old school, his rank in his old class. His mind was numb and he answered stupidly, honestly. A school that everyone knew to be in the heart of the old market district. Dirty and overrun with delinquents and those too poor to send to a better school.
Even ranking first in such a place made him look bad as they said it either meant he was a suck up nerd who thought he was better than everyone or a genius who’d been scouted by the education board and sent to their school on a scholarship. Either way a lowlife given an opportunity and chance that he wasn’t meant to have.
He couldn’t understand where they got all their conclusions or information from, and didn’t point out that it was neither. He told them who his father was, but by that point they only laughed just like he’d expected them to. No son of a politician, the governor no less, would ever have attended such a rat nest as his old school.
They asked if he was stupid, if he thought they were stupid to be bought with pathetic lies. They wanted to know if he was really trying to avoid punishment or if he was just mocking them to piss them off on purpose. Above all they asked if he knew who he was dealing with. And he wished to god he did.
He shook his head frantically as they interrogated him further while fingers jabbed at his forehead repeatedly, tipping his head back pathetically over and over. He couldn’t think through the patronizing action, unable to do anything but stutter more answers that only seemed to dig his hole deeper, the murmurs of increasing irritation scaring him as hands behind him gladly pushed him forward again to meet the hand that cuffed his ear knocking his glasses askew.
The bell signaling the end of lunch hour was what saved him, but he wasn’t even sure if it was a salvation or merely a postponement of more ill treatment as things were whispered in his ears. Promises that they’d meet him after school to give him a proper welcome. Expressions of concern to the fact he’d have to relocate schools again since he’d obviously been sent to the wrong place.
They left him amidst the rush of feet on linoleum and happily carefree talking and laughter. A flowing ebbing wave of bodies surging around him, past him, poking, pushing, just looking, threatening, before falling away and leaving him alone and disheveled in a quickly emptying room. His stomach was in knots and familiar hot tears were stinging the backs of his eyes.
Hardly half a day had passed and not one person had approached him in true welcome, no extended hand or offer of friendship, no friendly smiles or honest curiosity. Because rumors flew faster than words, and his story had already swept through the school by way of scribbled notes on crumpled paper slipped discreetly between hands in bathrooms and hallways.
He was the new kid from the low side of town, an eighth grader skipping up to the next grade in the middle of the school year proving he was too smart for his own good. A ‘commoner’ who’d think he’d take up the free scholarship to attend their prestigious school and on top of it lie to them all about his family to pretend that he actually fit in.
Really, he had no idea what was going on or what he’d gotten into and simply focused on the one thing that made sense to him at that point - that being his studies.
He blocked out the whispers and comments out of habit, knowing only too well the tone of disgruntled jealousy as he managed to get some form of praise out of each and every one of the afternoon instructors. He knew he should have pretended to know nothing, stayed quiet and dumb, but he was operating off long formed habits that had been the only way he survived his old school.
Everything was the same and he soon forgot he was even surrounded by strangers. Their faces may be different, but inside they were all the same. He didn’t even give them the benefit of a doubt, not even a chance, since that was how they’d already treated him, judged him and found him lacking.
He was surprised by the sound of the tone ending classes, and sat hunched over his notebook pencil freezing mid sentence. A chorus of voices giving the teacher the final greeting and then it fell silent as the man left the room.
Changmin still didn’t move, staring fixedly down at his page, the words and lines blurring before his eyes. He was afraid. For once he didn’t know what to expect. He knew they would torment him, but he knew nothing of their methods, of the social groups or leaders. Didn’t know what was in store for him and that paralyzed him more thoroughly than the sound of chairs scraping back as students got to their feet.
Distractedly he noticed that almost all of the class seemed to be packing up their things, hardly sparing him any more attention. But there was the low conversation in the back of the room with snatches of his name and he knew that those were the ones he’d have to answer to.
The room wasn’t even fully empty before they came over the his desk, surrounding him in a suffocating circle, hands placed boldly on the surface of the wood, the lead tip snapping as they knocked his pencil from his hand. It clattered and bounced to the floor as he merely continued to stare holes into his books. Until they too were swept to the ground in a flurry of pages and fluttering paper.
“Kid wont even look at us.”
“Obviously knows not to mess with us.”
“Knows he’s made a mistake coming here, doesn’t he?”
Changmin bit his lip, closing his eyes and wishing it would just already be over. Wishing he could just be back at his old school where routine had made things boring and predictable at best.
Fingers were grasping onto his chin, forcing him to raise his head and he opened his eyes to see four boys surrounding him.
“No need to look so dejected, Changmin-ah.” One smiled at him. It didn’t look cruel, but the very fact of him standing there before him now meant it would lead to something less kind.
“Right. We’re going to give you a chance to prove yourself of course. You didn’t think we were that unfriendly as to peg you without even checking our sources, did you?”
Changmin blinked at them in confusion, not understanding what they were talking about.
“It’s quite simple, really.”
They didn’t clear up his confusion with any more explanations before hands curled in the front of his shirt and helped him to his feet. There was no way for him to guess that the next thing would be a punch to the gut. Or a rough slap in the face.
Caught off guard he fell to the side, stumbling and tripping over a chair awkwardly, falling to the floor together with it in a noisy crash. Unable to catch himself he splayed out pathetically on his back, arms flying wide, his broken arm resonating with a painful crack against the floor.
He curled around it instinctively, unable to hold back a gasp of pain. The boys stared down at him with various expressions of surprise.
“Dang. He went down easy...”
“Seems used to this. Wouldn’t doubt it based on where he’s come from.”
Changmin didn’t move until the pain faded. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, refusing to meet their eyes and deciding to stay put on the floor rather than risk standing only to be knocked down again.
“What do you want?” He asked softly, staring at their sneakers.
One crouched down before him, tilting his head to look into his face. Changmin reluctantly looked up to see him watching him solemnly.
“Hey, now. We aren’t some thugs like those you’re used to dealing with. We just need to test you. If you pass, our parents will apologize handsomely on our behalf and we can be friends. But if you don’t, you’ll have no choice but to get your dirty ass out of our school.” He smiled. “Understand?”
Changmin didn’t, but he waited for the boy to get over himself and continue. The other three moved to circle him again, obeying even before the boy who seemed to be the leader told them to hold him. They grabbed his arms, the one on the left stopping in surprise as he felt the hard material of the cast through his sleeve. Pulling back the sweater, the white gauze was exposed.
“Shit. What the heck?” The boy jerked his arm around to show the others.
“Well that proves he’s obviously a liar.” One droned.
The leader tapped a finger nail on the material. “Doesn’t change anything. No need to rough him up too much, just make it readily visible then.”
Readily visible seemed to refer to hands holding him still as another slapped and punched him directly in the face a few times. He didn’t make a sound during the few minutes of abuse. His lip splitting, and hot blood flooding the area struck until his jaw and cheek felt battered and inflamed.
They released him quickly after that and Changmin was surprised. He’d expected worse, but it all made sense when leader got back up in his space.
“All you need to do is go home and tell daddy what happened to your face at school today. Tomorrow the truth will be out if your Governor Shim sends a complaint to the school and my father has to send compensation. Easy right?”
Changmin stared at him in disbelief. Beating him up only for their parents to retaliate and prove his status? It was ridiculous. A play at power and manipulation. Of students with too much time, too rich and bored to do anything else but devise interesting ways to cause drama.
They took his expression as one of desperate dismay, smiling and turning to collect their things.
“See you tomorrow, Shim.” Bags slung over shoulders as they pushed desks and chairs out of their path towards the door.
A derisive snort. “If he even shows up.”
And then he was alone.
****
next chapter~