The whiteboard was filled with numbers—fractions, functions, and a long, winding equation that twisted across the board like a riddle. Mr. Kim's voice echoed through the classroom, crisp and sharp.
Aiden sat near the window as usual, long legs stretched under the desk, one arm lazily slung over his chair. He was listening. Kind of. Mostly pretending. His gaze drifted again.
To her.
Lina.
She was sitting at the front row, her head bowed low over her notebook. Her pencil trembled slightly in her hand.
"Lina," the teacher called out suddenly. "You. What's the value of x here?"
She froze.
Her voice came out as barely a whisper.
Mr. Kim frowned. "We need to hear your voice, Lina. This is a classroom, not a confessional."
A few snickers broke out.
Lina lowered her head further.
Aiden frowned.
Something about the way she shrank under the teacher's gaze, under everyone's gaze, rubbed at something raw inside him.
Was it pity? Maybe. But it was also more than that.
His phone buzzed.
A news alert lit up the screen: "Chairman Han Kwon Meets with National President Ahead of Trade Deal."
There was a picture—his father shaking hands with the president, flashing that trademark smile. Polished. Cold. Predictable.
Aiden rolled his eyes.
He turned the phone over face-down on the desk, exhaling sharply through his nose.
Then, instinctively, his eyes flicked back to her.
She hadn't moved. Still small. Still silent.
He didn't understand why it bothered him so much.
When the bell rang and students began to shuffle out for the next period, Aiden packed up slowly, thinking.
And then—he moved.
When English class started, he slid into the seat next to hers without a word.
The air shifted.
Lina stiffened. Her back straightened like a bowstring. She didn't look at him.
But everyone else did.
Whispers erupted instantly.
"Wait… is he sitting next to her?"
"Why? Isn't that the girl who—"
"Isn't he dating Sera?"
Across the room, Sera—the girl who had spent weeks parading herself like Aiden's girlfriend—stared. Her expression cracked in real time.
Lina didn't say a word. She kept her eyes on the textbook.
Aiden said nothing, just opened his notebook like nothing unusual was happening. But he didn't stop watching her.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers gripped her pen just a little too tightly.
Then he leaned in.
His voice was soft, low enough only for her to hear.
"You know why it's that answer?" he asked, tapping the corner of her worksheet gently.
She flinched slightly. Then shook her head.
He took the paper, his hand brushing hers. Her breath hitched.
And everyone stared.
Girls held their breath. Boys exchanged confused glances.
Aiden scanned the answer quickly, then handed it back.
"You missed the negative sign," he said. "Easy mistake."
She hesitated. Her lips parted. But no words came.
He quirked a brow. "No 'thank you'?"
His tone was teasing. Not cruel. Not arrogant. Just… careful. Measured.
She finally looked up.
And for the first time, she met his eyes.
And stopped.
They were… warm. Brown, but not boring. Sharp, but not cold. She hadn't expected that.
She hadn't expected him.
Not like this.
He held her gaze for a beat. Then looked away as if nothing had happened.
But something had.
Across the room, Sera suddenly stood.
Her chair scraped loudly against the floor, the sound jarring.
Eyes turned toward her.
She didn't say anything. Just stood there, trembling slightly.
Then her voice broke through, low and cracking.
"…Unbelievable," she muttered.
And then she ran.
Out of the classroom.
Gone.
Gasps followed her. Murmurs bloomed.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Did she just… cry?"
"She liked Aiden, right? Well, who doesn't."
The teacher had stepped out briefly, leaving behind only chaos.
Lina sat frozen in her chair, her face pale with shock.
Aiden leaned back, completely calm, flipping to the next page of the English book.
"Should we discuss the passage?" he asked lightly.
Lina blinked.
She nodded, slowly. Barely.
And just like that, the room stopped pretending things were normal.
Because nothing was.
Not anymore.
—-
The final bell of end of lesson rang.
Students poured out of the classroom like a burst dam—laughing, gossiping, pushing past one another in waves. But Aiden remained seated, eyes following the quiet figure standing by the door.
Lina.
She didn't say his name. Just tilted her head slightly, silently asking him to follow.
He did. Without a word.
Gasps erupted behind them.
"The effrontery," someone whispered.
"She thinks she's special now?" another scoffed.
"Surely Aiden wouldn't like that kind of trash."
"She's fucking dirty!"
"Why her?"
Lina heard all of it.
But she didn't stop walking.
Down the hallway, her heart thundered in her chest. She waited near the end of the corridor, out of view, where the lockers cast long shadows. He arrived seconds later.
She didn't look up at first. Just spoke, quietly.
"You shouldn't have helped me yesterday."
Aiden leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed. "Why not?"
She looked up now, eyes burning.
"Because they're staring at me like I'm diseased. They think I tricked you into noticing me. You don't understand how cruel they can be here. You think helping me was kind, but it's not. It's just made everything worse."
Her voice shook, but there was a defiance in her words that cut deeper than volume ever could.
"I can survive being invisible. I can't survive being targeted."
Aiden didn't answer.
He just studied her. His silence was unreadable—not cold, but something else.
She hated that she couldn't tell what he was thinking.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.
She thought that was the end of it.
The sun was brutal that afternoon—blazing through the sky, painting the pavement in gold and sweat. Students scattered toward buses and sidewalks, some already gossiping about Aiden and "that girl."
Lina stepped out of the gate alone.
Then she heard it—the soft, almost arrogant hum of a luxury engine.
A sleek black car pulled up beside her. Smooth. Expensive.
The back window rolled down, and Aiden's voice called out from inside the cool interior.
"Come in."
She froze.
Eyes were on her. She could feel them, sharp and slicing .
Still, she opened the door.
Cool air wrapped around her as she slipped inside. The scent of leather, cologne, and something subtle—like cedarwood and clean rain—made her dizzy.
The door shut behind her with a soft, final click.
Aiden looked at her calmly.
"Your belt."
She fumbled. Her hands trembled as she tried to latch it but failed.
"Oh," she whispered.
He leaned in.
"Let me."
His fingers brushed against hers—warm, confident.
The click of the seatbelt locking in place sounded louder than it should have.
His scent filled the space between them—rich, woodsy, something expensive but understated, like he didn't have to try.
She didn't dare breathe.
"The chauffeur needs your address," he said, still not meeting her gaze.
She swallowed. "Sungri-dong. Near the east community hospital."
He nodded.
The car moved.
Silence settled in. But it wasn't comfortable. It was thick. Loud with things unsaid.
Lina stared out the window, heart hammering. This was her first time in a car like this. No walking. No aching legs or pretending she didn't care.
It felt good. Too good.
Money was real. And it changed things.
She caught him watching her again. His eyes didn't move when she turned toward him.
She shifted uncomfortably.
Then he spoke, voice low and almost amused.
"Calm down."
She blinked.
"I don't bite," he added with a half-smile.
She looked away quickly, cheeks flushed.
He didn't say anything else. Neither did she.
But outside, the city kept moving, unaware that something had shifted inside that car.
Something neither of them knew how to name yet.