In class later that day, Atelier sits alone. Right in the back, as usual.
Her classmates are chatting away – gossiping, having actual discussions on school work, and whatever else it is that Elites talk about in their spare time. She looks out the window and stares into the distance, her mind empty yet miserable all the same. Her textbook lays open before her, but she has not read a single page.
Despite her absent mind, she is well aware of the sudden movement on her right. Someone pulls out the chair and sits next to her. This spot, of all the available seats in the classroom. Her, of all people. Already her classmates are turning to look, frowning as they set their disapproving gaze on her and the poor soul who is extremely bad at making decisions. He's a senior if he's in this class; doesn't he know who she is? He is going to have to learn the hard way.
Maybe he just doesn't care. It's coming to the end of the final year, after all.
"Hey," he whispers. Atelier ignores him. The other students are staring and whispering again. "Can I sit here?"
"If you want..." she mumbles. She swears, she could almost /hear/ him smiling. Maybe he's trying to pull a prank on her. This pleasantry is not normal.
She wills herself to study her textbook, ignoring his presence, until she sees him pull out a notebook. A very familiar-looking notebook. With her name tag stuck on the front cover.
"That's –" Atelier looks up at her seat neighbour. When she meets his eyes, she freezes.
Jungkook smiles. "Finally got your attention."
Immediately, blood rushes to her face and she lights up like a tomato. "Sorry. I didn't know – I mean, I wasn't expecting to… I didn't think I'd see you again."
Oh, how /dramatic./
"Well, I did say I'll see you around," Jungkook says, his smile widening.
"Yes..." Her mind scrambles to find something to say. "Um, hi..."
He chuckles, like he finds her social inaptitude amusing. "Hello."
"So... uh, my notebook..."
"Oh, yes!" He slides it to her. It's his turn to blush. Atelier finds it adorable. "Seems a waste to throw that away, so I just... picked it up. Don't think I'm weird or anything – I don't always dig around in trash!"
Atelier stares at the journal. The front page is covered with her doodles. Suddenly, she remembers – "You didn't read it, did you?" she asks, mortified.
Jungkook turns even redder, but he hides it well. "I, uh, may have looked at a few pages."
She tries to remember if she has written anything embarrassing in there. Specifically, her feelings towards him. Her mind is blank and she can't recall anything.
"Are you unhappy here?"
Atelier looks up again. Jungkook is displaying an expression of concern. "Huh? Oh, you mean –" Her entries in the journal, right. She thinks of something to say. "It's okay." /But I'm not./
"Sorry, I don't mean to pry," Jungkook says. "I didn't read too much of it, though. I swear."
"Don't worry about it. It's fine," she replies, slipping the notebook under her textbook. "Thanks for retrieving it."
Jungkook says something else, but Atelier isn't listening anymore. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees them glaring at her. Whispering something nasty, sniggering, calling her names. Suddenly, it becomes too much to bear.
The vase of lilies by the window tips over and falls onto the floor with a deafening smash. Sana screams and jumps backwards. Gasps follow, and then silence falls over the classroom.
Atelier is stunned. She feels strange. She had been staring at the vase before it fell. She was staring and she was angry.
"You okay?"
Before she can answer, the bell rings and students scuffle out the door. No one bothers to take care of the broken vase. Someone will later notify the janitor. Atelier sighs and closes her textbook. She hasn't done any studying. Perhaps she should go to the library instead.
She didn't even realise Jungkook is still around, until she turns and sees him. She looks at him, surprised that he hasn't left.
"Sorry, did you say something?"
Another smile. He hands them out like candy. "Not really, just asking if you'd like to walk together to the next class."
Her confusion grows. "But we're in different classes," she reminds him. "And I have the next period off."
"In that case," he pauses, standing up. "Won't you accompany me as I go to my class?"
It's almost suspicious, how nice he is to her. She feels terrible. "But won't someone see us?"
Jungkook raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't understand what she means.
"I'm from Morheim," she says, trying to sound as threatening as possible. He might have forgotten, but people don't like Morheimers. People don't like her.
Not one to give up, he replies, "I know." There is a hint of a smile playing on his lips. It makes her feel safe. It makes her trust him. "Let's go."
---
They go their separate ways later; Jungkook to his class, and Atelier to the library, where she shall spend her next hour hiding behind books.
Rather than studying, she finds herself scribbling in her journal. She doesn't see herself as a writer – far from it; she is better with numbers. But, her thoughts need to go somewhere. It's not like she can talk to someone. It's not like anyone would listen.
Her conversation with Jungkook earlier plays over and over again in her mind. He is being incredibly nice to her. Like an actual friend. She still doesn't know what to make of it, but she is grateful for every moment she gets to spend with him. She almost wishes school extends another year, because school is the only thing they have in common.
After the next week, they won't see each other again. He would forget she even exists, but she would probably remember him forever.
Atelier puts her pen down. She wonders where she's going with her thoughts. She almost didn't notice the footsteps approaching her from behind. Almost. When she does, it is already too late.
She can't see who it is. Not with her head pressed against the pages of her book. She yelps in pain and tries to fight, but it only makes her attacker push down harder. She squirms, whimpering, until she sees the bright flash – the light reflected from the blade of a penknife, positioned just inches away from her face. Her heart stops.
"Don't make a sound," the girl warns, her voice laced with a sinister undertone.
"What do you want? Please, don't –"
The blade comes closer. "I said, don't make a sound. I won't hurt you as long as you don't make me. I'm just here to deliver a message."
Atelier winces, but the threat of the blade makes her stay still.
"Stay away from Jungkook."
/Jungkook?/ "I wasn't –"
She watches in horror as the girl pulls a lock of her hair and chops it off. The lifeless strands flutter onto the ground in a pathetic heap. Pathetic like she is, choking on her own tears.
"I told you to keep quiet. You don't listen, do you, roach? Well, listen to /this/: stay away from Jeon Jungkook. Heed our warning, and you just may be able to graduate. Reject our kindness, and the next time, it won't be so pretty. Understand?"
Atelier keeps quiet. She understands. The pressure lifts from her head as her attacker releases her, but she is too paralyzed to move. Empty, even. But slowly, anger fills the gaping hole, and she clenches her first.
"You're from Morheim. Don't you dare forget that."
No, she will /never/ forget that.
---
They have been watching from behind the shelves, the girls from Lorcada. The younger of the two asks if they should do something, but the older shakes her head. She has been around for far longer and knows the consequences of interfering. The Elites aren't fond of Morheimers in particular, and as if by their decree, no one else should be, either.
But that doesn't mean she agrees with them. It's just... it's easier to look the other way, so she often does.
The Elite leaves after she makes her point clear, and the girls wait until she is out the door before approaching Atelier. She has buried her head in her arms, and her body is shaking. She might be crying.
"Are you... are you okay?" the younger girl asks. No response. She places a hand on Atelier's shoulder.
The trembling stops. Atelier looks up. Her eyes are red but her face is dry, like she has been holding back tears. She glares at them, a cross between anger and disappointment.
Suddenly, a sense of dread washes over the younger girl. Her throat closes in fright, and she could swear she hears a voice screaming in the back of her mind; demanding to know why she didn't step in earlier to help, questioning her motives in faking pity after the damage is done. She swallows hard, and looks to her senior. She knows from the way the colour has drained from her face, that she feels it too.
"I'm sorry –" she begins, but is cut off when her eyes catch a glimpse of the wall lanterns all around the room. The flames are dancing and leaping high up in the air, growing out of control until the entire glass flasks are filled with orange red. With a sounding pop, the flames die, all at once.
"Leave me alone."
The girls hurry on their way. They don't need to be told twice.