When / Princess of the Poor.
Cha Eun-sang is brash, breezy and insolently defiant. She is the biggest thorn at his side, and in his heart. AU.
WARNING: love triangles, catty high-schoolers, korean-esque dialogue and an unashamed what if? universe. What if Eun-sang had grown up living among the elite? Expect an Eun-sang with more spunk than self-preservation.
Choi Young-do.
It was a regular day for Choi Young-do. Now that Kim Tan was stuck in LA, the entire student body feared him and he could finally wear his crown in peace. But that didn't mean he could be complacent. After all, one couldn't stay on top by remaining still; like his father's hotel chain, he had finally become top-dog, but now came the troublesome part: consolidating his power.
If he was following his father's example that meant picking a scapegoat to make an example of. Now where was he supposed to find one of those? Then, right when he needed it, one of them came rushing by. Perfect.
He smiled, baring his teeth. He was going to enjoy sinking his teeth into this one; he always did.
"Ah, Joon-young, friend. What's the hurry? Spare a couple of minutes for your old buddie, hmm?" A strong noogie to the head emphasised his point- his father had never been afraid to use his hand to protect his standing. It was fucking obvious that he was the last guy on the planet wimpy Joon-young wanted to see, if his pitiful trembling was anything to go by. Good. If glasses-boy is here she'll be sure to turn up... It was all going to plan.
Cue countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2... She appeared. His smile widened with a crooked sort of sincerity.
"Hey, Cha Eunsang, what a pleasure to see you this lovely day. I was just having a chat with my buddy Joon-young here." Joon-young was looking at her as if she were the Messiah. He gave the runt a pointed shove to remind him that he was still here.
And, as always, Cha Eunsang ignored him completely. He stiffened. The nerve of the bitch.
"Joon-young, are you okay?" She came closer, all the while not even bothering to spare a glance for Young-do.
Young-do gritted his teeth and tightened his grasp on Joon-young's shoulder.
"Joon-young is fine, right Joon-young? Friend?" His tone turned menacing.
Joon-young whimpered and nodded pathetically.
Still, there was no acknowledgement. She walked closer. "Joon-young, Teacher asked us to fetch supplies for the next class. We should hurry before the end of break." And then, as if it were all perfectly normal, she walked past, grabbed Joon-young's hand and started to converse as if nothing had happened.
"Joon-young-ah," she said, all pretty smiles and low-class charm; her glossy hair swished past and hit him in the face. "Did you read that email I sent yesterday? Our mom told me to ask your mom if she wanted some kimchi, we made a lot yesterday."
He clenched his fists. Of all the infuriating people... Honestly, was there no respite? If Kim Tan was his sworn enemy, Cha Eunsang was the sharpest thorn at his side. And he hated them both.
He had always been taught to hate those beneath him, and he despised how he had to mix with uppity climbers that didn't know their place. So, when he first laid his eyes on Joon-young in middle school, he had made it his business to make the charity-case's life hell. Too bad the guy came with a nasty pet: Cha Eunsang. She had fought him from day one.
Back when he and Tan had been friends, they had poured their lunch all over Joon-young at Induction and had laughed at his reaction afterwards; the bitch had responded by shoving her lunch in both their faces.
"Idiot clowns," she had said, with all the airs of a princess. By this point the room was as quiet as a bad bank statement. "Deserve to wear make-up, right? How's the taste of justice, clown-boys?"
He gritted his teeth.
Then, if only to humiliate him further, she continued, musing to herself as if she owned the building. "Wow, Cha Eunsang, hasn't this been a great day? Ah, these upper-class children are just as expected, neh? Hmm, too bad I had to waste my lunch on these unworthy clowns..." And with a teasing wink in his direction, she took the wimpy Joon-young and left with the last word.
Kim Tan, whose family did own the building, stared at her retreating figure with an awestruck expression. And he, Choi Young-do, was in such shock that he could do nothing but stew in a lunch of kimbap and kimchi. The subdued snickers around the room hit his ears like missiles, leaving the ends red with fury. It was one of the most demeaning experiences of his life.
With an expression of disgust, he picked off a stray stand of lettuce from his hair and swore vulgarly. Kim Tan, who was looking more amused than angry by the whole situation, went - sparing an absent nod in his direction - leaving him at the table to think over his emotions.
"Aish!" Young-do hissed, slamming his hand on the table. The red sting of pain had always helped to alleviate his anger. The students nearby stared at him warily; his temper was infamous in Jeguk, and there was nothing stopping him from unleashing it. Except for one thing. Excitement. Her smile, so teasing, flickered before his eyes and pumped his veins with adrenaline. What would it be like to possess something as fiery as Cha Eunsang? To keep her close? He spared a thought for his mother. Mother had been a passionate woman: indulgent in excess and foolishly fearless. Father had been unable to keep her caged as he wanted, but would the son be able to succeed where the father had failed? The thought was entirely too tempting for his own good. The scent of a good challenge was almost as good as victory itself.
So he went out of his way to torment her at any given occasion. Wherever Cha Eunsang was, Choi Young-do made sure to be there, but to no avail. Dirt-poor, pretty Cha Eunsang wouldn't give him the light of day. He would torment, and she would ignore. He would torment her friends, and she would quietly oppose. And before he knew it, four years had passed and the only thing that had changed was his level of frustration.
He wanted her to look at him. He wanted her to acknowledge his presence. Without her, victory was half-assed and left a stale aftertaste in his mouth. Only when she fully submitted to him - stood next him - would he be satisfied. Until then, he would work hard to win her. He deserved her more than anybody else, and he would keep her like he wasn't able to keep others.
-TBC.