Hello, I wrote this a while ago and found it still as interesting as the first time I had the idea. There's too little OC stories in this area in general, so I made my own. My OC is meant to be Young-do's platonic soul mate. Goodness knows how troubled the young man is, he needs help.
I'm totally into the part of Young-do that jokes around with his circle of friends, not the arrogant bad-ass that appears every time he saw Tan, so here's me expanding a character as per usual.
I'm probably late to the trend but hopefully some would still find the story and read it. Please leave me a comment if you do, it would mean the world to me.
+ please note that Korean names begin with the surname, so it's always surname firstname for Korean names and normal firstname surname for foreign names.
+ set in the year before the show begins (first year of high school in Korean standards) - there's just so many secret glances by the time the show starts.
She was the top of the scale, the cress of a note, a prodigy worthy of her family name. If only she had waited just two more seconds, she would have gone to get ice-cream to celebrate yet again another year of ranking first, and then the plan was to start working on her college application with Juilliard in mind. If only she had stopped herself from wanting to boast the fact that she was the best graduate of her performing arts middle school, she would still be in the same school today and not buying a boring, international-standardized school uniform on the last week of summer break.
It took her three years to realize how much she was despised. Picking up the rest of her school books from her old locker had been a mix of regret and pity, especially hearing people around her talking about how she deserved this, how she deserved her clear path of bright future destroyed. Mom had insisted that she could continue after the bone reconstruction, after therapy, but she was wrong. It didn't and might never feel the same again. Tremor still ran through her nerves in the most unexpected times, and it made her upset more than she would admit.
Cracking her knuckles out of habit, she had to remind herself that she shouldn't. It hurts. Her eyes traveled to her own reflection. Look at the mirror instead, do you like what you see? Whoever chose the color of the school uniform must be a boring old man. White shirt, beige skirt, and navy blue blazer with white detailing. She hated the crisscross tie, would rather have the regular tie even if the clearly meant-for-boys size of it would make her look masculine. Or forgo it all together and replace it with a statement necklace, but then again she could afford asking them to make a string out of the material that she could tie into a bow. She really wanted to have a strong game on her first day of school. Her eyes moved to look at her right side on the mirror. Tch.
With the amount of tears shed on this fine day in a private tailor boutique in downtown Gangnam, one would think Park Jung-soo lost a family member. A pet, maybe. A cute little puppy, most likely. Jung-soo was admittedly a very cute oversized baby whose superpower was to bring her back from her daydream, no matter how far she had gone. Apparently, trying out new uniform made him weep like a baby whale.
"Jung-soo-ssi, stop weeping." Rummaging through the handbag hung by the mirror, she then shoved a handkerchief at the seventeen-year-old boy who quickly caught onto the piece of cloth and dabbed on his eyes almost furiously. Never underestimate the power of a boy's tears. Sa-ra was ever so grateful that the boutique was currently empty sans for themselves.
"My Sa-ra is so grown up, look at her!" He started muttering to himself schemes of Jeguk brats and how they should treat his friend like how he treated her. She had long since stopped batting an eyelash at his antics.
"Can I just have my name sewn instead of having it on a tag?" Sa-ra asked, turning to the seamstress. Although useful to put on the desk when needed, a pin made her cautious of ripping off seams. She had a few clothing pieces at home that looked like its heart had popped out. The semantics wasn't lost on her.
"No, the custom is to have it on a tag." The lady had the grace to look bashful when Jung-soo made a face at her straightforward, no nonsense reply.
"Then can you sew my name on the inside, nonetheless? I like having my name on my stuff," she admitted rather bluntly, handing the navy blue blazer back. She understood the need to have uniform, that with the gap-diminishing means in between the students, but not necessarily why it made a huge leap from other schools' much simpler, less fuss and quality uniform. Dad would love seeing this color on her, it was the original set of colors he was going to go for his school's uniform. Dad might even be secretly pleased that she did end up going to Jeguk after all. He wanted her to have 'the right connections' and all that jazz. "Have you got all the measurements you need?"
"De, you can pick it up by tomorrow. Kamsahamida." The seamstress bowed as the two friends walked out arm in arm, eyes wandering through the shops lining the busy street. Jung-soo eyed a few fancy cars littering the parking lot and named out a few he could recognize. They decided to descend upon a cafe that looked most frequented, meaning that the food must be good or that the barristers were good-looking. They hoped for a little bit of both.
"Sa-ra-ya, do you really have to go?" was Jung-soo's first question after they took a seat by one of the less-busy corners. There were parents making use of the last week of holiday by taking out their chaotic offsprings and releasing them onto the crowds.
Said girl peeked through a curtain of dark hair, her fringe obscuring the view of her pleading friend. Closing the Jeguk school handbook, she hummed in confirmation. "It's not like I have a say with it," she defended herself, crossing arms on her chest. She watched as he scooted his seat closer to hers, gaze unwavering and docile.
"But your Mom runs the school, surely she can pull some strings," he reasoned, shaking his head and making the tuft on his head move along. "I heard Jeguk's a school where you don't make real friends anyway." He looked from side to side watching the food on other tables and the customers' reactions. The crowd was thankfully starting to die down since it was just after lunch time.
Sa-ra turned sideways to look at him properly. "Park Jung-soo, what's the matter with you? You didn't make a fuss when I announced it and now you're treating me like a criminal. Wae, what is it?"
Jung-soo jutted his lower lip. "We've gone to the same school since we were in kindergarten," he stated as a matter-of-fact.
"And?"
"I don't like the idea of you moving away."
"It's just Jeguk, you can always come pick me up from school or something," or not, she mused. Any car from his family's garage would make for a flashy display that she might not need in her lifetime. His father rising to be a famous movie director in the past six years might have something to do with how impetuous the family spending was.
"Chinca? I can do that?" his face lit up.
"Maybe not," she changed her mind.
"Sa-ra-ya," Jung-soo held the upper half of her arm, slightly shaking it. An arm which was tired from picking up the violin again after a whole summer break without it. Mom said her left hand should still be able to press on the strings alright, but she wasn't going back to the performing arts school, so why even bother with the instruments she didn't like in the first place? "I have done my research on Jeguk," he added when he noticed his friend was in no mood to entertain him today.
"Do they have great music club?"
He swatted her arm. "That's not important once you're there."
"Then what is?"
"The caste system."
"Hinduism?"
"Ani, the money system." He thought for a moment.
She looked back down at the handbook sitting on her lap. "Didn't see a mention of that in the handbook."
He rolled his eyes, snatching the handbook and swatting it at the back of her head. "Pay attention," his tone grew ominous, "There are four tiers: The highest are the tycoon inheritors, second is for shareholders, third is children of parents with respectable jobs-"
"And let me guess," she cut him off. "The rest are peasants?"
Jung-soo nodded vigorously.
She patted his tufted hair with a smile. "You don't need to worry then, I'm the cherry on top."
"Ya, Kwon Sa-ra, doesn't mean they can't chew you!"
Jeguk high school was exactly as advertised: Tall, intimidating building with mostly glass walls and streamlined design, well-mowed green lawns and what looked like mini-gardens, and the snobby children that resided within. In Saerang School of Performing Arts she was used to the concept of being judged by her talent, but that seemed irrelevant here. On the walk from the car to the main entrance she already heard snippets of a Tuscan holiday and Malibu sunburn, a contrast to her time spent in her vacation house on the countryside – a gift from her father for simply being born. Jung-soo single-handedly took charge of her 'fun vacation' as a nanny, house keeper, and entertainer. She rated him seven and a half stars out of ten.
One step into the hallway and she let out a sigh; she thought she had escaped the concept of having to walk a marathon from class to class. They treated their students like athletes here too, apparently – it takes a good lengthy walk just to reach the main campus, and they had several buildings to walk back and forth from. Only a handful were in the same boat as she was, a newcomer to Jeguk high, new applicant for high school and they were all baffled with how much they had to get used to within the first week. The rest had a sense of familiarity about them; the way they walked around campus like they owned the place, which now that she thought of herself, maybe one of them was the child of the owner. Contrary to the popular belief, not all the children of top investors meet up every Sunday afternoon to attend a tennis club meeting. But the top tier schools do compete on tooth and nail with each other, hence the social introductions.
With measured steps, she walked the way she did in her previous school, consciously baring and challenging the stares of the other students, seniors or not. She chose this particular pair of heels for a specific reason: she liked the way it click-clacks on marble and how she was in control of it instead of the other way around. New school didn't have to make her throw away her musical tendencies. Old habits die hard.
Sa-ra was counting fours when she felt a hand snaking on her shoulders. Surprised, she tilted her head to her left and hissed when she saw the culprit and tried to pry it off. "Are you going to welcome me to Jeguk?" she sneered.
Instead of letting her go, the second-year brought her closer, their sides scrunching together. "I'm surprised Park Jung-soo didn't transfer to Jeguk as well, your lackey isn't as loyal as you think," he lowered his voice as if telling a forbidden secret. She had been told numerous times of how gorgeous the boy beside her was, how polished and royal he looked, and she had had previous friendships forged on insincerity and attention-seeking means. Needless to say, she wasn't pleased to have any sort of affiliation with him.
"You said you'd kill him if he transfers."
"Oh, I would." He stopped, stepped forward, and faced her. The two looked nothing alike even when the thunderous expression on their faces were frighteningly similar: eyes narrowed, mouth set into an ugly frown and arms crossed over their chests. The height difference was straightened out with the heels she wore, but it was still ironic that eight years of living under the same roof resulted in nothing more than similar habits and experiences; They still resented each other's guts to the bits.
The onlookers were intrigued: Seniors don't bother themselves with affairs of their juniors. They had their own agenda to look after, and it was a myriad of luck to see any kind of drama on the first day of school, but here they were: second-year Jeremy Lim facing a freshmeat. They couldn't identify who pretty girl was since she must be a newcomer to Jeguk. They didn't know Jeremy-sunbae had a flame.
So the next action left them baffled. The girl forcefully slammed a piece of paper to Jeremy's chest, eyebrows raised in a challenging manner. The second-year took the paper, studied it, and tilted his head to the side – a motion for her to follow. Jeremy Lim and Kwon Sa-ra left a gushing and hushing crowd hot on their tracks.
Sa-ra and Jeremy stopped in front of a class marked as 108 and he turned to face her, switching into his mother tongue seamlessly. "Mei mei, cause no trouble and I won't have to interfere, hao ba?" His sharp cheekbones lifted with an amicable smile and he raised his hand to reach the top of her head, petting it in a somewhat affable fashion.
The way he spoke Mandarin to her always made her feel belittled, particularly for the higher pitch he used and the spelling-out fashion he did it in "You already have," she hissed in the same language, one that she learned by the age of five when she stumbled upon a picture book with funny scrawls that isn't Hangeul. Sa-ra reverted her eyes, noticing the spectacle they'd made of themselves and wondered what kind of image her stepbrother conjured here, but then again he had been to Jeguk since middle school. "I'm still not admitting who you are to me."
"I don't think you'll need to. There's this thing called the internet."
"And you think news of my mom and your dad from eight years ago would pop up? I don't think so." She was well aware of the information her name could give, and it wasn't at all anything to be worried about. She swiveled around and walked into the classroom.
"You'll be surprised by their persistence," he called out behind her.
It was funny how everyone tried to one up the other when it came to the introductions. They didn't know each other yet; they hadn't mapped off the caste system completely since there would be new additions other than those who went to Jeguk middle school. She knew this game well, and she had observed from the sidelines when people play since she didn't have to in Saerang.
"Kwon Sa-ra."
Her head snapped up from her blank notebook and she looked at her homeroom teacher. "Ye, Seosaengnim?"
The homeroom teacher made a 'go on' gesture. Oh, right. She drifted off when they were at Han and now they've reached Kwon. Sighing internally, she decided to make her position clear, hopefully once and for all. Sa-ra did have a tendency to be ignorant and a sucker for peace – purely out of laziness. Unless provoked, of course. No tiger would sit still after being provoked.
She took a deep breath and stood up, prepared to say what Jung-soo had come up with. Or at least, he came up with the first half. She turned back to the teacher after she finished and couldn't help the sly smile that formed when she heard whispers of recognition and realization. She had two pair of parents to prepare her for this hell called high school.
Leave me your thoughts on the intro!