BITTERSWEET (Vsoo)

Jisoo

"JISOO-YA! WAKE UP BEFORE I POUR ICE ON YOU!"

I jolted awake to the loving, screaming voice of my older brother, Kim Sunoo, pounding on my bedroom door like a police raid. My hair was a mess, my eyes barely open, and my blanket wrapped around me like a defeated burrito.

"Five more minutes!" I groaned.

"You said that ten minutes ago. We're gonna be late, and I'm not carrying your sorry butt into school on my back again."

"You've never done that."

"I thought about it, that's enough."

Sunoo was loud, dramatic, and annoyingly perfect at waking me up with chaos. Despite being a senior, the guy had the emotional maturity of a five-year-old on caffeine. But he was also my best friend—my only friend so far in this new city—and I was stuck with him whether I liked it or not.

After a chaotic ten-minute scramble where I brushed my teeth, threw on my uniform, and nearly tripped over my own shoelaces while trying to put on lip balm, we finally made it into the car. Sunoo looked flawless, of course—platinum hair styled to perfection, blazer swinging off his shoulder like he was some K-drama lead.

"Don't be nervous, Jisoo," he said as we drove toward the school gates. "Just flash that innocent face, look shy, and BOOM! Everyone will want to be your bestie."

"I'm not that shy," I muttered, pulling my long dark hair into a half-up bun. "And I don't want fake friends. I just want to survive the day."

Sunoo reached over and flicked my forehead. "Then don't trip on your way in like you always do."

I flipped him off as he laughed his obnoxious laugh.

As soon as we got to school, the energy shifted. The building was huge, with tall glass windows and the type of architecture that screamed, money. Students walked by in perfect uniforms, some already whispering, already looking.

"Here we go," I whispered to myself.

Sunoo clapped my shoulder dramatically. "Little sis, go forth and slay. I'll see you after class. Maybe. If you survive."

"Such comfort," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes.

After checking in at the office, I clutched my new schedule in my hand and headed down the hallway toward my classroom. The corridors were packed. Everything felt like it was moving too fast—shoes squeaking on tile, laughter echoing, voices blurring together.

And that's when I turned a corner—and slammed right into someone.

I felt my balance disappear instantly.

"Ah—!" I squeaked as my eyes squeezed shut, instinctively expecting strong arms to catch me like in the dramas.

But no.

I hit the ground.

Hard.

"Ow, ow, ow..."

I whined, face flushed as the impact stung through my elbow. My bag had flown somewhere behind me. My papers were a sad, scattered mess.

Then I looked up.

And my breath caught.

The boy standing there wasn't just attractive—he was unreal. Like a statue sculpted by a vengeful god who wanted to curse humanity with beauty. Jet-black hair, cold, sharp eyes that looked like winter. A strong jawline. Straight nose. Lips set in a flat, unreadable line.

He wasn't looking at me. He just stood there for a moment—expression unreadable—and then turned away without a single word.

He didn't even help me up.

"What the...?" I muttered, still sitting on the floor as he walked off, his long legs carrying him away with that quiet confidence only people like him could wear.

"RUDE MUCH?" I whispered after him with a pout. Then sighed and picked myself up.

So much for fairy-tale meet-cutes.

By the time I found my class, I was five minutes late. Great. Just great.

I knocked, then pushed the door open.

A few students turned to look. The teacher, Mr. Baek, blinked up from his roll sheet. "Ah, you must be the transfer student."

"Yes, sir. Kim Jisoo," I said, bowing.

"Come in. Introduce yourself."

I took a deep breath, offered a polite smile, and spoke loud enough to be heard.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Kim Jisoo. I just moved here recently, and I hope we can get along."

Polite claps. Some whispers. A few curious eyes.

The teacher pointed to two empty seats near the middle of the class. "You can take one of those."

I nodded and headed over. One desk was clean and untouched. The other had a sleek black backpack already resting in the seat beside it. I chose the empty desk next to the occupied one and sat down.

But something... shifted.

I felt the eyes.

Several classmates looked at me with pity. Some even exchanged subtle glances.

What?

Then the classroom door creaked again.

The temperature dropped.

And he walked in.

The boy from earlier.

The one who didn't catch me. The one with a face like carved ice.

He moved like he didn't need permission. Didn't care for attention, even though everyone held their breath when he entered. His presence was magnetic—and terrifying.

He didn't look at the teacher. The teacher didn't scold him for being late.

He didn't need to.

He walked straight toward the seat beside me and stopped.

His brows furrowed when he saw me.

And then, in a voice low and rough, like gravel and thunder, he said:

"Go sit somewhere else."

Dead silence.

Every head in the room turned.

But I didn't move.

I stood up.

"There is nowhere else," I replied, firmly. "Every other seat's taken."

Murmurs. Shocked gasps.

I could almost hear Sunoo's voice in my head: "Nice knowing you, sis."

He stared at me like I'd just thrown his world off its axis.

Then he stepped closer.

I could feel the heat of his body, his breath almost brushing my skin. My eyes flicked up—past his collar, up his long neck, to his sharp jaw and prominent Adam's apple.

Okay, wow, rude or not—he's dangerously hot.

But I didn't budge.

A drop of sweat slid down my temple, but I held my ground. I rolled my eyes—barely—and sat back down in my chair.

He stared at me one last time.

Then, without a word, he sat beside me.

The whole class exhaled like they'd been holding their breath.

And I smiled a little.

Maybe this new school wouldn't be so boring after all.