(That frostbitten sports bench behind Lincoln High, winter wind whipping raw cheeks. Four solitary figures drawn together like magnets in the void—Damien's deep brown skin chilled to a subtle sheen, Jiwon's pale frame hunched with fresh bruises, and two others as well, silhouettes cutting the gray dawn. Lone individuals but a group to the rest of the school.)
Back to the Present
"Yeah, that's exactly what went down. (Han Jiwon drawled, his tenor voice threading lazy warmth through the studio's hum. He sank impossibly deeper into the black leather couch, athletic frame melting with feline nonchalance—baggy oversized black hoodie draping his V-tapered torso like a shadow, crisp white tee beneath hinting at the firm pectorals and etched eight-pack beneath. Light blue jeans molded to his long, balanced legs, ending in spotless white sneakers kicked out casually. Tousled black waves tumbled across his forehead as he drew slow from a plastic cup of vibrant green boba, fat straw slurping audibly; light blue eyes crinkled at the outer corners with that signature spark of curiosity, a subtle flush warming his pale cheeks. The scent of fresh citrus boba mingling faintly with his natural warmth.)
(He capped it with a playful eye-roll toward Damien.) "Your story is nothin compared to mine."
(Damien's thick eyebrow arched sharply, amber-flecked brown eyes locking on with piercing awareness. He leaned forward, forearms braced on powerful thighs—veins tracing lightly across forearms, delts rounding his broad shoulders beneath the olive shirt.) "Whatchu mean?"
(Jiwon surged upright in one fluid motion, long leg hooking over the other with predatory grace, expressive lips parting in a grin that didn't quite mask the old sting.) "My entire high school was me being branded gay well some of it." (He swiveled to the camera, annoyance etching his sharp jawline, arms crossing firmly over his chiseled chest—latissimus flaring subtly.)
(Damien's full lips twitched, holding back a rumble of laughter as Jiwon leaned in closer, blue eyes flashing direct sincerity.) "Let me unpack it"
Han Jiwon's Past
(Flash to Lincoln High's chaotic halls—fluorescents buzzing like angry hornets, air thick with locker-room musk, perfume, and adolescent tension. Han Jiwon is a hetero by core, but his vibe? always said otherwise. Pale skin luminous under the lights, neutral-cool undertone flawless; light blue eyes alive with unguarded emotion, crinkling at every grin; thick black hair tousled in soft waves, brushing temples with casual charm. At 6'1", his frame moved with open energy—speed and balance in every step.)
(He skipped down the corridor past a hunched, awkward shadow, wide smile erupting—dimple carving deep—as familiar faces popped into view. Skidding to a bubbly halt before a giggling girl posse, hand waving high.) "Heyyy, queens!"
(They whirled, faces igniting with warm familiarity. Brunette Sarah, ringleader with glossy waves and sharp eyeliner, beamed back.) "Jiwon! Heyyy, babe. Omg, guess what?!"
(Jiwon's head tilted, light blue eyes widening in pure, infectious curiosity—cheeks flushing faintly.) "Spill—yesss?"
(Sarah cleared her throat dramatically, leaning in with conspiratorial glee, her squad clustering like conspirators.) "Okay, so remember Tyler? That super-gay Tyler from bio? Last night—he confessed. Full crush on you. Insane, right?"
(Jiwon's grin froze, skepticism rippling through his expressive gaze, voice dipping shaky.) "Okay... and?"
(The girls brimmed with misguided optimism, huddling tighter—perfume cloud thickening—as Jiwon instinctively mirrored, leaning in. Whispers flew.) "Since you're our ultimate bestie—guess. What. We. Did?"
(His eyes narrowed to playful slits, throat bobbing nervously; a shaky laugh bubbled out, dimple flickering.) "I really hope it's not the thing I think it is. Guys..."
(Sarah, tunnel-visioned, nodded like it was gospel.) "Yesss, girl! We hooked you a date with Tyler. Like, oh my god—isn't that the cutest?!" (She blinked rapidly, smile unwavering.)
(Jiwon stared blankly, hurt blooming raw in those direct blue eyes—jaw tapering softly in betrayal.) "But... I'm not gay."
(Sarah's mouth parted, side-eyeing her crew in stunned sync—nervous laughter cracking.) "Uhh... wha?"
"I'm. Not. Gay." (His voice steadied, sincerity cutting through.)
(She snapped an unconvinced scan over his outfit: slim black vest clinging to his thin frame, unzipped hoodie framing bare shoulders with forearms peeking; baggy sweatpants swishing over his legs, chunky sneakers grounded wide. Eyebrow arched high.) "Then what's with the full getup? You skipped here like a Disney princess."
(Jiwon glanced down self-consciously, fingers tugging his hoodie.) "You hyped this fit every time. Called it fire."
"Duh—it's flamboyant, cute as hell. Perfect for you."
(Veronica—brunette firecracker with narrowed suspicion—leaned in venomously.) "If you ain't gay—" (CRACK! The slap exploded down the hall like thunder, Jiwon's head snapping sideways, pale cheek blooming red. Heads whipped; phones erupted, recording the spectacle in gleeful shock.) "YOU FUCKING SAW US NAKED, YOU PERVERT!" (Veronica shrieked, drawing a crowd like blood in water.)
(Jiwon shook his head frantically, blue eyes wide in panic, voice trembling high.) "No no no no—I begged you, I don't wanna see! You still stripped!"
(Sarah recoiled theatrically, disgust twisting her glossed lips.) "WHY THE HELL NOT YELL IT LOUDER?!"
"I did! Multiple times—every—"
"BABE!" (Black-haired Mark sprinted up, athletic build hovering protectively over Sarah, dark eyes flashing worry.) "What happened?!"
"HE HAPPENED!" (Sarah jabbed accusingly. Mark sized Jiwon up, brow furrowing deep.) "Spill—what'd this clown do?"
"HE'S NOT GAY!"
(Mark's jaw clenched.) "Babe, we talked—you can't just torch someone for not being gay."
(Veronica detonated.) "HELL NO! Sicko saw us naked, kissed us, showered together—straight all along, pretending!"
"Damn... lucky bastard," (a random dude muttered, smirking into his phone.)
(Jiwon retreated a shaky step, head shaking wildly, light blue eyes pleading.) "No no—I wasn't pretending! I thought that's what friends did. Y'all didn't see it weird, how was i supposed to know?"
"FRIENDS!?" (Mark bellowed, fist rocketing forward—CRUNCH into Jiwon's jaw. Jiwon crumpled to the linoleum, clutching his face in wide-eyed terror, tears pricking as he scrambled back on palms and heels.) "No no no—I never crossed lines! They dragged me into it, forced every time!"
(Mark loomed, sneaker swinging viciously into Jiwon's cheek—bone-jarring thud.) "Pathetic excuses, you sick fuck?!"
(The girls wailed furious tears, mascara streaking. Jiwon's world? Femininity's cage from birth—no Dad, just Mom's venom and sisters' orbit. Father? One-night specter who bailed post-impregnation. Mom's parade of deadbeat lovers calcified her man-hate; she magnetized them, then blamed the gender. To shield Jiwon, she steeped him in estrogen: K-pop idols, girly fits, mannerisms—all curated. He absorbed her loathing, dodging dudes to keep her smile. Emotional intelligence? Overflowing. Masculine edge? Absent.)
(As Mark's fists rained—knuckles splitting pale skin, blood trickling warm—Jiwon's mind splintered in a torrent: 'This makes zero sense. I told them a hundred times: I was straight, into girls. They giggled it off as jokes. Not fair. Why me? NOT FAIR. This isn't right—how's it my fault? NOT FAIR. NOT—' Tears carved hot paths down his bruised face, dimple lost in swelling.)
(Bystanders finally hauled Mark off, grunting. Jiwon lurched up, bolting down halls in a wailing sprint- echoes chasing him.)
(Exile locked in. He confessed to Mom; her palm cracked his cheek. 'It's your fault for being a man, I should have known you have been a problem when I birthed you. Why can't you be more like your sisters? Look at them, beautiful and perfect and look at you, disgusting to your very core. Get out of my sight' Sisters glared disgust, whispering as they fled the kitchen. Jiwon stood frozen, confusion crashing like waves. 'How? it was their fault, right? Not mine...' (Daily beating branded him a pervert—teachers smirking "justice," greenlighting the beatings.)
(That glacial winter dawn, Jiwon collapsed on the sports bench—lip split, eye swelling purple—spotting Damien equally wrecked. Two more people joined, frost etching their breaths.)
Back to the Present
(Damien nodded ponderously, dreads swaying faintly.) "Damn... still, that was kinda your bad, dude."
(Jiwon halted mid-boba-slurp, plastic crinkling in his grip—glaring with narrowed skepticism, blue eyes electric.) "My bad? I lived the blueprint my mom scripted! How?!"
(Damien shrugged his broad shoulders.) "But to be honest—even day one with us, you radiated gay. Rapunzel hair, you dressed up with so much estrogen I'm surprised you didn't switch teams"
(Jiwon rolled his eyes skyward, tousled waves shifting. Automated chime pierced;)
"STEPONMERENJI donated $5. 'I'm not sure whether to pity you or say it was your fault."
"BRUH?!" (Jiwon gawked indignantly at the lens, chest heaving before a deep, steadying breath—posture relaxing impeccably.) "But it's history. The girls owned their mistake and I apologized for the misreads. I ghosted my mom and sisters and have been happier ever since. And Damein, you didn't tell them your family situation."
(Damien met the camera squarely, exhaling heavy.) "My dad is rotting in a cell. I got my Mom therapy, a new home and a car. She's good now. Now it's your turn pretty boy"
(Pivot sharp to Soren Valenhardt—porcelain skin blushing faintly under lights, ash-blond shoulder-length waves artfully tousled back to bare elegant cheekbones. Black silk dress shirt clung to his lean sculpture, top buttons agape over subtle neck veins; charcoal pants sheathed crossed long legs ending in polished loafers, silver watch catching glints. Silvery-gray eyes hooded with introspective depth, beauty mark winking beneath—voice a deep velvet rasp.)
(Soren sighed languidly, full lips curving neutral.) "In honesty, High school was... mostly smooth."
(Damien uncoiled upright before he circled to the fridge.) "Of course it was." (Cold water bottle cracked open with a hiss; he sipped slow, Adam's apple bobbing.) "Don't gaslight the stream—you caught strays for doll vibes."
(Soren's hooded gaze flickered amusement, posture unwavering regal.) "Fine. There was that saga."
(Chats detonated—emojis, questions flooding. Viewers ensnared.)
(Next chapter...)