Ms. Choi smiled, a tight, "good luck" smile, and walked out, leaving me alone with the new kid. He was still slouched, staring at the floor, radiating a "don't talk to me" energy so powerful it was practically a physical force.
I was the seonbae. I was the "expert." I was supposed to be in charge. I cleared my throat. "Jeogi... Han Leo-ssi?" I tried, my Korean feeling clumsy. "Jeoneun San-ibnida. I'm... your guide? Your classroom, 1-C, is... this way, I think. We should go."
No response. He didn't move. He just... breathed. I could see his phone in his hand, the screen dark, but his thumb was rubbing the edge of it.
Okay, my Korean didn't work. Time to use the "I'm a foreigner too" card. "Hey," I said, switching to English. "Look, I'm supposed to take you to class. You're just going to sit here all day?"
His head snapped up. His sharp, dark eyes, which had been annoyed, were now wide with surprise.
"You speak English," he stated. His voice was a low, unaccented American murmur.
"Yeah," I said, stepping into the room. "I'm Ukrainian. Oleksandr Motuzenko. But... just call me San." He stood up, slowly. He was a little shorter than me, but he had a kind of wiry, defiant energy.
"San," he repeated, testing the name. "Like the mountain."
"That's the one."
"Huh." He actually looked at me now, properly sizing me up. "I'm Leo. Han Leo. So... you're my 'buddy'?"
"I'm your 'Representative of Foreign Students,' apparently," I said. "Which is stupid, since this is only my second day."
I gestured to the door.
"Come on. Your class is... somewhere." He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and followed me out. He was still radiating annoyance, but at least he was moving. "So, Korean-American, huh?" I said, trying to make small talk as we walked down the grand, art-filled hall. "Why Kirin?" He scoffed.
"My mom's idea. She wanted me out of L.A. Sent me here to... 'get in touch with my roots.' Or whatever. I'm just living with my grandpa."
"Your grandpa lives in Seoul?"
"He works here," Leo said, his voice dripping with teenage cynicism. "He's the principal."
I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.
"The... the principal?" I choked out.
The guy in the suit? The one who was shouting about Myung-Dae's... I mean, who gave the speech?
He saw the look on my face and his eyes narrowed.
"Look, it's a secret. Okay? I don't want anyone to know. I don't need people acting all weird around me."
"Right. Yeah. No, of course. Secret." I started walking again, my mind completely blown. This was not a school. It was a dynasty. My romcom had definitely just changed genres to a full-blown Sky Castle thriller . The chaebol kids were neighbors , and the principal's grandson was being smuggled in as a "scholarship student." This was nuts.
"Aish... jinjja!" I panicked. " Look, I don't even know where Class 1-C is. The first-year wing is probably on the other side of the campus. I'm... I'm the worst guide ever. You should probably ask someone who actually knows—"
"San-ssi?" I spun around.
It was Park Jun-seo.
THANKS GOD! THANK YOU JUN-SEO! I LOVE YOU PARK JUNSEO!!! I cried out in desperation inside my head.
He was walking toward us, a stack of papers in his hand, his "class president" face firmly in place.
He looked like he was heading to the faculty office.
I'd never been so happy to see him in my life.
"Jun-seo-ssi!" I said, a wave of pure relief washing over me. "Thank God. I won't be alone with this... I mean... This is Han Leo, he's a new first-year. Class 1-C. I'm supposed to show him where to go, but I have no idea..."
I was still babbling when I noticed Leo had gone completely rigid beside me. "...Jun-seo?" Leo whispered, his voice small, his defiant slouch gone. Jun-seo stopped. The papers in his hand wavered. His "president" mask cracked, his eyes widening in pure, unadulterated shock.
He was staring at Leo as if he'd just seen a ghost.
"...Leo?" Jun-seo breathed. "Han Leo... is that you?"
PWAEEEEET! The bell for the first period rang, a sharp, melodic chime that made me jump.