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Taehyung's POV:

24th September

The world felt colder today, more suffocating than it ever had before. I could feel the eyes on me as I walked through the campus, the stares burning holes into my skin. Whispers floated through the air, sharp and cruel, like daggers thrown at my back. I wished I could disappear, become invisible, but the more I tried to hide, the more they found me. The students' faces, twisted with disgust, their voices filled with contempt, made me want to curl into a ball and just fade away.

When I stepped into the classroom, I thought for a moment it might be different. Maybe today would be the day they'd let me be, let me slip by unnoticed. But I was wrong. I should’ve known better.

The room was dead silent, the air thick with tension. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me, waiting. My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way to my seat, trying to ignore the feeling of their eyes following me, scanning me, judging me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Then, I saw it.

On the projector screen, my face was staring back at me. But it wasn’t just me. It was a picture of me on the terrace, with that guy, the one who assaulted me. The angle was wrong. It made it look like I was the one pulling him in, the one initiating everything. Like I was the one who had started it. The one who had been the aggressor.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart stopped beating for a second.

“Look at that. Taehyung, the slut.” Someone’s voice broke the silence. “Can’t believe he’s trying to seduce a straight guy.”

The room erupted into laughter. Laughter that felt like shards of glass cutting into my skin. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The words blurred in my mind as the mockery continued. The cruel, judgmental laughter was deafening, and it echoed in my head like a storm I couldn’t escape.

I didn’t want to look at them. I didn’t want to look at the screen. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The image, the caption—everything about it felt like a knife twisting deeper and deeper into my chest. I had never felt so humiliated in my life.

“What a joke. Can’t even control himself.” Another voice. “Trying to make everyone fall for him, pathetic.”

I could feel my skin burning. My face flushed with embarrassment, my heart sinking into my stomach. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but stand there and let them tear me apart.

Every laugh felt like a slap. Every whispered comment felt like a betrayal. They didn’t know. They didn’t know what had really happened, what I had gone through. But they didn’t care, did they? They had already decided who I was, what I was. To them, I was nothing more than a joke, a slut who had it coming.

“He’s disgusting.” Someone said. “I can’t believe he thought he could get away with that.”

I wanted to scream back. I wanted to tell them they were wrong. I wanted to tell them how scared I had been, how violated I had felt, how it wasn’t what they thought it was. But the words wouldn’t come. I was frozen, my body numb with pain.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. I was already weak in their eyes, already a joke, and I couldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. But I felt the tears burning behind my eyes, threatening to spill over. My chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked out of the room, and I couldn’t breathe.

“You disgust me, Taehyung.” A voice from the back of the room, sharp and cold, cut through the laughter. “You’re nothing but a worthless slut. Always acting like you're better than everyone else.”

I didn’t look to see who said it. It didn’t matter. They all thought the same thing. They all saw me the same way. The mockery, the insults, the laughter—it was all too much. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I turned, not caring about anything, not caring about anyone. I just needed to leave. I couldn’t stay there another second. My legs were shaking, but I forced myself to move, to escape.

But as I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of the faces around me—faces I thought I knew. Faces that I had once called friends. Now, they were nothing but strangers. Their eyes were cold, filled with disdain. Some of them were still laughing. Some were watching with pity. But all of them, all of them, were judging me.

I ran out of the classroom, my heart pounding, my mind spiraling. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see. The tears were blurring my vision now, falling freely down my cheeks. I didn’t care. I didn’t care that they were watching. I didn’t care about anything anymore.

I stumbled down the hall, the sound of my footsteps echoing in my ears. The world felt too loud, too bright, too heavy. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t bear it.

I needed to be alone. I needed to be away from them. From their cruelty, their mockery, their hate. I just needed to disappear.

I pushed through the doors, not stopping until I was outside, away from the stares, away from the laughter. I sank to the ground, my back against the cold wall, my chest heaving with sobs I couldn’t control. The tears came in waves, breaking over me, drowning me in the weight of everything I had been hiding for so long.

This wasn’t just about the picture. It wasn’t just about what had happened on the terrace. It was everything. The isolation. The hate. The way the world had turned its back on me.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

And in that moment, as the tears fell and the world continued to move on without me, I realized that I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

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