TUESDAY, 13 January

Nishimura Riki wasn't the brightest of students. But he was offered a scholarship years ago, by the previous headmaster, for his exceptionally beautiful painting skills. Watercolors, oil paintings, charcoal sketches: Riki made masterpieces, every single one of his works were unbelievable. Too exquisite to be made by the mere hands of a human.

He was a thoroughly admired person too. For his art, and for being art himself. Sometimes, Riki would allow himself to feed off of flattery when girls sang his praises, but he knew that they were just admirers. They come and they go. For that, he's never been in a relationship.

Riki found it hard to grasp the existence of love. He'd never seen it in his life. His childhood crushes never worked out, up until even now. Riki was used to pining over those he could not claim, but when feelings were reciprocated, he found it too hard to act on them. So, he vowed to live a lonely life. Peaceful and quiet. Drowned in colors and paints of his own choosing.

But before that, he saw the turmoil of his parent's crashing relationship. Not long after Riki was born, his parents separated, going about their own paths in life. Riki watched, years after years, his mother rinse and recycle boyfriends whom she was far too good for. Riki hated every single one of his mother's partners after his dad: they all stole his mother's attention from him.

Riki stared at his most recent art piece. A blank canvas. It was going to be one of his most thought out and intricate works. And it was going to be very hard to complete. Riki laid out a plan that he had been working on for months. He was going to create a hybrid painting. A mixture of all his favorite styles.

Romanticism, emotional and individualistic. Gothic, ornate and symbolic. Social realism, political and realistic. Neo-expressionism, raw and visceral. Rococo, extravagant and delicate.

With those, Riki had an impossible feat ahead of him.

"Why the fuck am I doing this again?" Riki groaned, letting his forehead meet the rough texture of the canvas.

A gentle patter of footsteps made Riki look up again. Someone else had joined him in the studio. He thought he'd reserved it for the first 3 hours of the afternoon. His eyes went to the big double doors.

A girl around his age, maybe a bit older, looked into the hollow room with a dazed expression. She must've not realised there was another presence in there with her. Riki noticed, and cleared his throat. He spun his chair around, so that he was fully facing the girl.

Riki got a proper view of her when her head turned around to the direction of his voice. A strip of light slithered its way to freedom through a nearby window, illuminating the right side of her face. Embers sparked from her eye, a rich hue of hazel and orange. Her dark skin was the color of autumn wheat stained oak-wood, and her undertones gushed like rich honey. Her hairs were clusters winding around themselves, descending down the girl's shoulders in thick, glossy and loose ringlets of raven black. Her lips were tightly drawn together, the smallest of frowns evident in her heart-shaped face.

"How can I help you?" Riki asked.

The girl exhaled sharply. "Do you perhaps know of a Nishimura Riki?"

"I am him."

The girl's eyes widened. She'd been caught by surprise. But a silken smile appeared on her face quickly. Complementary dimples appeared on each corner of her lips. She approached him, holding out her tanned hand. "Seraphina Huxley. Nice to meet you."

Riki shook her hands, nodding. But he was still confused as to who she was and what she wanted to do with him. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that name."

"Oh, yes." She shook her head. "I just happen to be very familiar with yours." Riki could have sworn Seraphina's entire body glowed when she smiled. He frowned.

"Why did you wish to see me?"

Seraphina's smile dropped again. All that shine disappeared. Even the natural light was sucked out from the room, and the sun settled behind the clouds.

"Oh right. I was invited to the school by Principal Hill. He wanted me to come over to mentor one his most precious students, with a talent like he had yet to see before. Or so he claims." Seraphina's eyes glistened with curiosity. "I'm a first year Stanford art student. Something like this will for sure boost my chances of impressing leading art firms. When I heard of you, I couldn't resist the offer. I want to help you become something great, that is if you'll let me."

Riki wasn't sure what to make of this. "Principal Hill got you here for me, you say?"

Seraphina nodded. "It was a bit surprising for me too. He directly reached out to me. Somehow even got my personal email address."

"And you said you can make me into something great?" Riki was feeling feverish at the idea. Greatness sounded like a ticking bomb . Riki would love to become something great.

"I don't doubt my skills, Riki. I can only hope you'll feel the same way."

Riki stood up. He was almost a foot taller than Seraphina, but the girl looked unfazed. "I'll need some time to think about it, as great as this all sounds."

"Take as long as you need. Mr. Hill has arranged living quarters for me on campus, so I'll be around until the end of the year. Except on the days I have uni."

"Which are?" Riki raised an eyebrow.

"Depends." Seraphina shrugs. "Three times a week. Monday to Friday."

"Ok." Riki clicked his tongue. "I'll get back to you when I see fit."

Seraphina nodded, but her eyes flickered past Riki's arm, to the empty canvas behind him. Untouched and unfilled. Her gaze met him again. "Well, I hope you won't keep me waiting for too long, Nishimura Riki."

* * *

The idea of the Entrance Test being just less than a week away terrified Jungwon. He was paranoid at the idea of under-performing and letting down not only himself but his school, friends, family and city. Jungwon was given the role of maintaining everyone under his wing as the class president and leader of the team. However, he felt an immense pressure on his shoulders.

Ms. Grant perked her head in through a crack in the door. When she spotted Jungwon, she pushed the door open, making her way inside. Her heels clacked against the cool marble flooring, in a sharp steady rhythmic beat.

"And what are you up to today, Jungwon?" Ms. Grant asked. Her voice was elegant, much like the woman it belonged to.

Jungwon stirred in his place, setting down the thick History textbook he was reading. He stretched, trying to loosen out his stiff arms. He had been holding that book non-stop for more than an hour. "Just trying to get in some extra revision. You know, for next week."

Ms. Grant hummed, plugging in a wire to the kettle that was filled with water. "I hope you're not over-working though. I know it can be stressful around this stage of the competition." She turned her body around, letting her back lean against the counter. She offered him a smile.

Jungwon thought it was to comfort him, to try and ease his mind a little, to help him break free from his mind-forged manacles. Maybe it was. But it didn't work. A shiver ran down Jungwon's spine, making him shudder. Just being reminded of the fact tasted salty on his tongue. He remained still.

"Tea? Coffee?"

Jungwon cleared his throat. "Coffee, please. And-"

"No sugar." Ms. Grant chuckled, finishing his sentence.

Jungwon nodded. "Yes."

The room remained quiet as Ms. Grant got to work. After a good ten minutes or so had passed, she was walking towards Jungwon with a tray in her hands. She set it down on the table, and took a seat in front of her student. Jungwon watched as his cup of coffee was carefully placed in front of him. He stared at it, fiddling with his fingers under the table. "Thank you."

Ms. Grant took a gentle sip of her own drink, which smelt like a fragrant field. Chamomile tea. "Jungwon, how long have I known you for?"

Jungwon's eyebrows knitted together. He brushed away a few fallen strands of brown hair from his eyes. "Um, I don't know. Maybe about 6 or 7 years."

Ms. Grant's eyes shone with a familiarity Jungwon was far too used to. "So, I've known you since you were 10, correct?"

"Sounds about right."

"Then I hope you won't mind me saying this." Ms. Grant set down her fragile chinaware teacup. Jungwon gulped thickly. "I've noticed recently that you are growing rather fidgety. You're finding it difficult to focus in class. You've shown up late more times than ever before in just one day. You're isolating yourself from your friends and your nose is always glued to some book."

Jungwon sat in silence, every one of his movements stopping in time.

"Are you losing confidence, dear? Is it because you feel too full with responsibilities? The need to prove yourself worthy of every title you've ever been given in your life? I can tell that you are a good person. You work hard for everything you have. You are talented and have more potential than you can imagine. Life is getting too hard, I presume. As is anyone else's of this age."

Jungwon felt a pool of hot tears in his eyes forming. They were stinging his vision.

"Believe me when I say you are not in this alone. You have all your friends that are in this class. Yet, you possess the one thing they don't. The power to control. Your fellow classmates will listen to you more than they'll listen to me. I feel as though you doubt yourself. This world is too selfish for you to allow yourself to be weakened and just expect to be a somebody. If you want something, you have to take it. You'd be foolish not to."

A tear slid down Jungwon's eyes; it felt thicker than blood when it stained his cheeks. He sniffed, quickly wiping it away.

Ms. Grant took pity on the sight, sighing. "It pains me to say this as much as it pains you to hear it. I gave you this position because I know you'll excel in it. But it's not going to work if you aren't sure of yourself. I'll warn you in advance that if I feel as though you fail to meet my expectations, I have no choice but to pass your title to someone else."

Jungwon's eyes shot up. Ms. Grant smiled.

"I know that you do not need to be pressured to be better, Jungwon."

* * *

Jay wasn't sure how it happened. One moment he was being threatened to be suspended and taken out of Nationals, the next he was walking out of vice principal Moon's office tousled haired with swollen lips, bed eyes and his white shirt crinkled and unbuttoned. Oh, he was fucked. Jay let out a shaky breath as he slouched his back against the wall of an empty hallway. He couldn't believe he'd just done that.

But after regaining his composure, Jay let out a breathless chuckle. He thought again. Whoa, he can't believe he'd just done that. He pushed himself off the wall, buttoning up only a few of his buttons of his shirt, so that his neck was still slightly exposed.

He felt no shame whatsoever walking around with the purplish bruises and red scratch marks on his skin. Forbid it, but he didn't even waver when he remembered who'd left those traces of themselves on him.

A few girls scurried past himself, giggling and blushing to themselves when Jay showed off his devastating grin. It was enough to make anyone fall at his feet. Jay Park was always viewed as some sort of godly figure in the school. He definitely had the looks for it. His outgoing personality was just another bonus point.

Everyone heard the countless stories of Jay luring girls to his bed and leaving them drunk from the taste of him in the morning. It was even said by some, that if he really hated you, he'd find a way to fuck every vile thing you had to say about him right out of your mouth.

But with Jay, there were no strings attached. Because of that, he allowed himself to be reckless. It thrilled him to be able to do things most people were too afraid of. Addictive shots of adrenaline would pump through his blood when he did forbidden things. He loved taking the risk. He got high off of it. And if Jay was ever threatened with the consequences of his actions, he always turned to money for help. And it always did the trick.

"Jay, brother!" 

Jay turned around to the call of his name, to see his best mate Tayron jogging up to him.

"Don't tell me you were suspended. I heard Miss. Moon screaming."

Jay scoffed, his lips curling up. "Oh, she wasn't screaming at me."

Tayron frowned. "What do-" Then, it dawned on him. "Tell me you didn't."

Jay laughed, unable to control himself. He felt as though he reached a new milestone on his journey to prohibited territories. "I did."

Tayron snorted. "Fuck, man. How was it?"

Jay had to resist using vulgar phrases. "It was alright. She's just about as tight as she acts."

"Whoa, chill." Tayron wheezed. "No need to word it like that."

Jay shrugged, as the two turned round the corner. He was hit by a cool breeze, from the open gates of the front entrance. It cooled his flaming skin. "Just saying."

"So you're not suspended, I'm guessing." Tayron asked carefully, as the duo walked down the stairs to the front lawn of the school.

"I guess." Jay wasn't actually sure. "She said she'll get back to me later. Guess I left her that breathless."

"People are going to freak when they find out." Tayron pointed out, the thought suddenly crossing his mind.

Jay snapped his head to his friend, scowling. "But they won't find out. I'll get into so much trouble."

"I think it'll be her in far more trouble than you. If you think about it, she'll probably be fired from the school and be put on the sex offenders list since you haven't turned 18 just yet. Probably some jail time too. Oh, and she'll definitely be blacklisted from ever working with kids again. You, on the other hand, can just pretend to be the victim. Just a vulnerable school boy who was threatened by a power much higher than him."

Jay pondered on the thought. It was like a snake that just released venom into his mind, infiltrating his every thought with a deadly intention. Tayron's right. Jay could just get away with it if he pretended to be powerless in the situation.

"But of course, you'd only have to resort to that if someone finds out and snitches." Tayron's voice snapped Jay back to reality.

Jay stuffed his hands into his pockets, blinking so lazily as if he was already bored of the topic. "Let's hope that, for her sake, it doesn't."

But Jay thought about what he shared with the vice principal so heavily that it kept him up at night. And a newly found wave of guilt and paranoia washed over him. What the fuck was he thinking?