The engine cut out with a final, aggressive growl.
Myung-dae kicked the kickstand down and pulled off his helmet, shaking his hair out in slow motion like he was in a shampoo commercial. I hopped off the back, my legs slightly wobbly from the adrenaline of weaving through morning traffic at illegal speeds.
"Thanks for the lift," I said, handing him the spare helmet. "That was... faster than the bus."
"Don't get used to it," Myung-dae grunted, latching the helmet to the bike.
We were standing at the main gate of Kirin Arts. It was 8:20 AM. Peak arrival time.
Silence swept across the courtyard.
Dozens of students stopped in their tracks. They looked at Myung-dae—the terrifying, solitary heir of the Mise-en-scène empire who famously hated everyone. Then they looked at me—the weird Ukrainian exchange student who had previously been seen hugging the Student Council President.
And now, we had arrived together on the same bike.
I saw Kang Min-ah near the fountain. Her phone was already out. Her thumbs were moving at the speed of light.
"Omg. First Prince Jun-seo. Now Dark Knight Myung-dae. Is the Transfer Student collecting the F4?"
"Is he dating them? Both of them?"
"#HaremProtagonist"
Myung-dae noticed the stares. He glared at a group of first-years, who immediately scattered like pigeons.
"Let them talk," I grinned, patting his leather-clad shoulder. "It adds to the band's mystique. We are the bad boys."
Myung-dae slapped my hand away. "You are the annoying boy. I am the bad boy. Know the difference."
He stormed off toward the lockers. I watched him go, smiling. He didn't deny the "band" part.
The school day passed in a blur of whispers. Every time I walked down the hallway, conversations stopped. Girls giggled. Guys looked at me with newfound respect or confusion. I was no longer just "the foreigner." I was "the guy who tamed the beast."
When the final bell rang, I rushed to the Applied Music building.
The practice room was already buzzing. Jun-seo was tuning his guitar. Leo was obsessively rosin-ing his bow in the corner. Myung-dae was plugging into his amp, looking grumpy as usual.
And sitting on the drum throne, bold as brass, was Park Jin-hyun.
He wasn't hiding. He was wearing his bright red Hanyeong blazer, leaning back with his feet up on the bass drum, tossing a drumstick in the air.
"You're here," I said, dropping my bag. "Did security stop you?"
"I told them I was a cultural exchange exhibit," Jin-hyun smirked, catching the stick. "Besides, Ms. Choi gave me a pass. 'Visiting Instructor,' apparently."
"Let's focus," Jun-seo said, clapping his hands. "We have the structure. Let's run it from the bridge."
We started playing.
It was getting better. The "H-Wnot" sound was solidifying—a clash of classical elegance and rock grit. Jin-hyun's drumming was the anchor, locking Myung-dae's wandering bass lines into a tight groove.
We were in the middle of the second chorus, sweat starting to form, the energy building...
SLAM.
The door to the practice room didn't just open; it was commanded to open.
The music died instantly.
Yoo Chae-rin stood in the doorway. She was wearing a pristine white blouse and a pencil skirt, holding a clipboard like a weapon. She scanned the room, her gaze sweeping over Jun-seo (who straightened his posture), Myung-dae (who scoffed), and Leo (who tried to become invisible).
Her eyes landed on the drummer.
Jin-hyun stopped playing. He rested his chin on his drumsticks, grinning at her.
"Well, well," Jin-hyun drawled. "If it isn't the Queen of Kirin. Here to bless us with your presence, Cousin?"
Myung-dae's head snapped up. "Cousin?"
"Hello, Jin-hyun," Chae-rin said, her voice cool and devoid of warmth. "I see you're still wearing that hideous red blazer. It clashes with the decor."
"It's called 'contrast,' Chae-rin-ah," Jin-hyun winked. "You should try it sometime. Not everything has to be beige and boring."
Chae-rin ignored the jab. She turned her hazel eyes to me.
"San. Pack up."
"Huh?" I blinked, holding my guitar pick. "We're in the middle of rehearsal."
"And now you're leaving," she stated, checking her watch. "We have a duet to win. You've wasted enough time playing garage band. Your vocal cords need to be calibrated for our song, not screaming over these... amateurs."
"Hey!" Myung-dae stepped forward, his bass making a thudding noise. "Who are you calling amateurs?"
Chae-rin looked at him. "The boy who plays three root notes and calls it a bass line? Yes. Amateur."
Myung-dae looked ready to explode. Jun-seo quickly stepped between them.
"San," Chae-rin commanded, ignoring the tension. "Studio. Now. I finished the backing track. G-Dragon-sunbaenim texted asking for an update. Do you want to keep him waiting?"
The G-Dragon card. She played the ultimate trump card.
I looked at the band. Jin-hyun just laughed, twirling his stick.
"Go on, Frontman," Jin-hyun said, amused. "Don't keep the Princess waiting. She bites if she's not fed attention."
"I heard that," Chae-rin snapped.
"I know," Jin-hyun smiled.
I sighed, unplugging my guitar.
"Sorry guys," I muttered to H-Wnot.
I grabbed my case and walked to the door. As I passed Chae-rin, she didn't move. She just stared down Jin-hyun one last time.
"Don't break anything, Jin-hyun," she warned. "Especially the family reputation."
"Too late for that," Jin-hyun replied cheerfully, hitting the crash cymbal.
PSSSH.
Chae-rin turned on her heel, grabbed the back of my blazer, and dragged me out of the room.
"Walk faster, Commoner," she hissed as the door closed. "We have work to do."