The bell rang, it was 3rd period already—Biology.
Ah Chong has always excelled in sciences, on the track of pursuing the medical field—to everyone's hopes. He himself had an interest for the sciences but he never really thought about pursuing it as a career.
Photography? What a nice hobby to have! That's what people would usually say to him.
Hobby…
These things are just hobbies. There is no benefit in pursuing them as your future.
He exhaled through his nose. No point testing the limits of his privileges today. He had already burned first period and second—Mathematics and World History, two subjects he also coasted through without breaking a sweat. Pushing further would be asking for trouble. He ultimately decides that he's taken enough pictures for the meantime and quickly packs up his camera in the locker and makes his way to class.
Walking into class, a gruff voice greets him.
"Ah, Student Ah Chong. Come in, come in." Mad Dog—their Biology teacher, flashed him a smile.
"Sorry 'cher for being late." Ah Chong bows slightly and walks towards his desk. Mad Dog grunted back.
As Ah Chong headed toward his seat, his deskmate lit up like a motion sensor LED lamp.
"Oi," Shen Yun greeted, already grinning.
Without missing a beat, they performed their handshake—three-step palm tap, knuckle bump, pretend slap, ending in finger guns. Stupid? Yes. Sacred? Absolutely.
Shen Yun. Best friends since they were both short, stupid, and emotionally constipated in middle school. Conjoined by destiny, stupidity, and permanent contact seating plans. If Ah Chong trusted anyone with a body or a secret, it would be him.
Ah Chong slid into his seat just as Mad Dog finished writing something on the chalkboard with a sharp screech that made half the class flinch. Mad Dog turns, a hand on his hip, eyes immediately locking onto the late student.
"Student Ah Chong."
The classroom went still.
He didn't shout., there was no need to. His voice alone carried the density of a slammed textbook.
"Yes, Teacher." Ah Chong squeaked—polite, stiff-backed, hands glued to his sides.
Mad Dog's stare sharpened like he was measuring Ah Chong's soul with a microscope.
"You know what time it is?"
"10:45am, Teacher," he answered earnestly.
Snickers burst in the class.
"Try again."
"...Biology time?"
Shen Yun choked on a laugh beside him. Someone else coughed to mask theirs.
Mad Dog exhaled through his nose, slow and surgical.
"Third period," he corrected. "Which means you've missed two classes."
A beat.
"Again."
Ah Chong shrank a centimeter. "I had... school magazine duties?"
Mad Dog raised a brow. "Mm. Saving the world with photography, I see."
Classmate He Fei—two seats away—looked like he was wrestling a demon named laughter.
Then—unexpectedly—Mad Dog turned and grabbed the chalk with a sigh, muttering just loud enough for everyone to hear: "Of course he can skip. Boy probably already memorised the chapter before I teach it."
The class erupted in quiet chuckles.
Ah Chong blinked.
Mad Dog pointed the chalk at him without turning around. "You. Stay in your seat. Take notes. And don't make me come find you personally next time."
"Yes, 'cher!"
"And, Ah Chong."
The late boy jolted again.
"If I catch you dropping a mark, I will personally resurrect Charles Darwin just to scold you."
"Yes, Teacher… I will do my best to… maintain academic excellence," Ah Chong promised.
"Good."
Only when Mad Dog resumed teaching did Ah Chong collapse fully into his seat, deflating.
"Bro," Shen Yun whispered, solemn hands clasped, "you are the nation's chosen child."
"Shut up," Ah Chong groans, face heating.
"No no, seriously—your report card gets put in a glass case every exam season in the teacher's office. Teachers gather around it and pray."
Ah Chong dropped his head onto the table with a thud. "And yet," he mumbled into the desk, "I still don't know what I want to do with my life."
Shen Yun blinked at him for a moment… then gently elbowed his side. "You'll figure it out. Genius boy or not, you're still an idiot like the rest of us."
Ah Chong snorted—a small, reluctant laugh. And just like that, the tension in his shoulders loosened. Shen Yun was always capable of keeping him grounded. Because here, with Shen Yun, he wasn't The Genius Prodigy, Pride of the Teachers' Lounge.
He was just… Ah Chong. Slightly goofy, occasionally dramatic, very human.
Across the room, pens scratched and Mad Dog was growling passionately about mitochondria or something but Ah Chong couldn't even focus even if he wanted to.
Ah Chong was looking out the window, his desk at the last row to the window. The same position that boy is sitting in his own respective classroom. He was just in the classroom behind him; Class 2-3. He wonders if the boy was still looking out the window, they would be looking at the same sights.
The realization sucker-punched him. Heat slammed into his cheeks with the force of embarrassment. He jerked forward, burying his face in his palms. "Fuck…" he exhaled into his hands— muffled and pathetic.
That face, under the sunlight, with those half-lidded eyes.
"Fuck my life…" he groaned again, quieter this time, like a dying fact of existence.
Beside him, Shen Yun snapped his head up from his phone he was hiding under the table. "…Who do I have to fight?" he asked seriously.
Ah Chong whipped his head up, ears still red. "The hell?"
"You keep whispering fuck this and sighing like a maiden staring into the sea. So." Shen Yun cracked his knuckles once for dramatic effect. "Who's the cause of your emotional downfall?"
Ah Chong slammed his face back down. "No one."
"No one doesn't make teens dissociate with tragic whispered swearing."
"Bro. Shut up."
"No way, bro. Shut me up by telling me who it is."
Ah Chong ripped his face off the table and glared. "It's really nothi—"
A voice thundered across the classroom like an incoming artillery strike. "You two! Chit-chatting at the back!"
Mad Dog was barking at them. Both boys snapped their heads forward so fast their spines realigned.
"Sorry 'cher. I was asking Ah Chong on this one question." Shen Yun said smoothly, hands clasped, face pure innocence. Ah Chong nodded aggressively.
Mad Dog stared at them, squinting like he could smell bullshit in the air. He exhaled sharply through his nose and resumed teaching.
Then, from the corner of his eye, Ah Chong caught movement beyond the classroom door's window. His felt soul launched itself straight out of orbit.
My angel!
The boy walked past in full slow-motion glory with vignette sparkles around him—at least, that's how Ah Chong's brain processed it. He was tall, maybe just an inch or two shorter than him. Black hair—choppy, textured, like it used to be a buzzcut that grew out just enough to look effortlessly cool. His skin, warm and tan, the exact shade of milk tea in the perfect ratio. Long eyelashes shadowing half-lidded, those mildly bored eyes like the world was uninteresting to him.
Ah Chong felt his heart drop, bounce once, then detonate.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. BA-DUM.
The boy didn't even look into the classroom. Just kept walking, hands in pockets, posture relaxed, like a human soundtrack to every dramatic slow-walk scene ever filmed. It was like pure cinema.
When the silhouette disappeared past the window, so did the air in Ah Chong's lungs.
He exhaled a shaky, wounded whisper. "Woah…"
"Oi." Shen Yun pinched his side. "Why the hell does your face look like that? Gross."
"Fuck off." Ah Chong jabbed him back—hard. Shen Yun recoiled with a betrayed hiss. Ah Chong, meanwhile, was still staring at the empty corridor as if the ghost of a god had just blessed it.
"Bro."
"Hm?"
"Who was that?"
Shen Yun blinked. "Who?"
"That guy that just walked past, stupid."
"Oh, that guy?" Shen Yun leaned back in his seat, scratching his chin. "From 2-3. I think his name is Jia Wei."
Ah Chong repeated it silently in his head. Jia Wei. Jia Wei. Jia Wei.
It slotted into his brain like a key sliding into a lock.
Shen Yun continued casually. "Apparently he got held back a year 'cause he didn't show up to school for a long while. So technically he's like… our senior, I guess."
Older. Mysterious. Pretty. Cute name. Yeah, okay. He was done for.
Ah Chong hummed, too casual. Suspiciously casual.
"…I see," he said. Completely natural. Smooth.
Silence hung for maybe three seconds and then—"So," Ah Chong said, painfully casual, "this Jia Wei guy."
Shen Yun looked at him. "Huh?"
"What else do you know about him?"
Shen Yun blinked once. Twice. The cogs in his head were clearly turning faster and faster. "What else?"
"Yes," Ah Chong said quickly. "Like, general facts. For… research purposes."
Shen Yun squinted. "Research. On Jia Wei."
Ah Chong nods "Mhmm."
"For what."
"…character study."
Shen Yun stared at him like he'd grown a third eye. "What character."
"You know," Ah Chong gestured vaguely, "humans."
"…Humans?"
"Yes. Human behaviour. I am observing them. For—science."
Shen Yun leaned back, nodding slowly like a man humouring a delusion. "Right. For psychology research?"
"Yes." Ah Chong nods again with conviction.
"Bullshit! We don't even learn that shit!"
The two boys sat there for a few seconds, glaring at each other. In the end, Shen Yun sighed dramatically, hand on chest. "Fine. Lemme scan my brain." He tapped his temple like searching for files.
"Jia Wei. Class 2-3. Held back a year for absenteeism. Quiet. Sleeps in class a lot. Doesn't talk much. Was in the track & field team. Has one friend, I think, he's from the basketball team. Teachers don't bother him because he doesn't bother anyone. Grades are…" he shrugs, "pretty alright. Very floating-in-the-background energy."
Ah Chong absorbed it like sacred scripture. "Absenteeism?" he echoed softly.
"Yeah. Rumour is he had family stuff. But nobody knows the details." Shen Yun paused, then added, "Oh, but I heard, this was before he got held back, some girl confessed to him and he didn't even say sorry when he rejected her."
Ah Chong blinked slowly, letting the information sink in. "…He didn't even say sorry?"
Shen Yun shrugged, leaning back like he was narrating a documentary. "Apparently. Just asked why and flat out rejected her. Poor girl."
Ah Chong felt his chest tighten in a way that made no sense. "Unbothered… distant…" he murmured, almost to himself.
Ah Chong was quiet for a while. He tilted his head slightly, staring back out the window, imagining Jia Wei in that corridor, walking past as if the world didn't exist. His mind raced, tracing every detail Shen Yun had just mentioned, filing it away like revision notes
Shen Yun nudged him. "Bro, you're acting weird. More than usual."
"I'm… just… processing." Ah Chong mumbled, face burning, trying to sound normal.
Shen Yun hummed thoughtfully. "Processing… yeah, right. You're basically sitting here doing a full-on character analysis and whispering to yourself."
"Science," Ah Chong said, a little too sharply.
"Uh-huh." Shen Yun leaned back with a grin. "Yeah, science. Well, if you're serious about your research, maybe you should… observe him in person sometime. Mister Stalker."
"The fuck? I'm not a stalker!" Ah Chong shoved his shoulder. "This is all in the name of research!"
"Yeah, yeah. Research or stalkerism, weirdo!"
"Fuck off, I'll kill you!"
The two of them were in a full blown shoving battle at this point until Mad Dog turned around again.
Two silent, anxiety riddling seconds passed.
"…You boys," he growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "are going to test the limit of my lifespan."
Both of them snapped upright.
"Sorry, 'cher."
"Sorry, 'cher."
Mad Dog exhaled loudly. "One more sound and I'm rearranging your seats."
Ah Chong tensed and Shen Yun paled at the horror of separation. They shut their mouths immediately.
But the moment Mad Dog turned back to the board—
Ah Chong whispered, barely a breath: "…so you're saying he doesn't talk much."
Shen Yun whispered back, equally small: "…yeah?"
"…interesting."
Shen Yun leaned closer, eyes narrowed.
"You are suspicious."
"I am academic."
"You're fucking weird."
"I am scholarly."
Shen Yun scoffed, shaking his head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro."
Ah Chong did not respond.
Mostly because even he was starting to doubt he'd sleep at all.