MINSU MAH BOI
The sun rose too bright over Elemental High. Like it was mocking everyone.
Su-Bong rolled out of bed in the Light dorm with his mouth dry, pupils wide, and the familiar, electric buzz of confidence humming through his bloodstream. Another morning, another line—done quick and quiet while the other Light kids pretended not to see. They were all too clean. Too polished. Too scared to say anything.
He slipped into his uniform like it was armor and made his way to the cafeteria, grinning to himself like he knew some cosmic joke.
Inside, it was all elemental cliques and carefully curated silence.
He grabbed a tray—fruit, pancakes drowning in syrup, a carton of milk—and moonwalked across the floor like he was on stage. Every step felt like a beat, and he made a whole show of sliding to the dark-element table with a syrup-dripping flourish.
“Good morning, my emo children,” Su-Bong declared, sitting without invitation. “Y’all miss me?”
Han Se-Mi didn’t even blink. Still deadpan, lip ring gleaming under the dim cafeteria lights.
Next to her was Mr. Tree Spirit, Gyeong-Su—bright-eyed, flowers literally blooming from the collar of his shirt.
“Su-Bong!” Gyeong-Su beamed. “You look radiant today!”
“Thanks, Twiggy.”
And then there was Nam-Gyu.
Nam-Gyu, the bi disaster, with hair that looked like it’d been pulled out of a gothic novella and a personality that screamed walking red flag. Su-Bong had no idea why he liked him. Maybe it was the danger. Or maybe it was just that Nam-Gyu looked like someone who could ruin your life and then write poetry about it.
“Morning, Nam-su,” Su-Bong smirked, mouth full of syrup.
“It’s Nam-Gyu,” the dark element said, not looking up from his phone. “But whatever. You seem cracked out again.”
“Thank you,” Su-Bong said proudly.
And then there was Min-Su.
Short, bowl-cut, dark-eyed Min-Su, who seemed like he was permanently vibrating with fear. He was nibbling on toast like it might fight back.
“MINSU MAH BOI!” Su-Bong yelled, throwing an arm around him.
Min-Su jumped. “P-Please don’t shout…”
Se-Mi didn’t say a word the whole time. Just sipped her black coffee like this circus wasn’t worth her soul.
After breakfast, Su-Bong headed to his locker, humming under his breath. He was halfway through beatboxing when someone leaned against the locker next to his.
Nam-Gyu.
“Yo,” Nam-Gyu said, dark eyes scanning him.
“What’s up, Nam-su?”
Nam-Gyu didn’t flinch at the name anymore. “You got anything?”
Su-Bong blinked. “Drugs?”
“No, cookies. Yes, drugs.”
“I don’t know, man. Kinda risky. In-Ho’s goons are everywhere.”
Nam-Gyu rolled up his sleeve.
Su-Bong’s stomach dropped.
The veins in Nam-Gyu’s arm were shadow-black, branching like twisted ink through pale skin. It looked like his bloodstream had turned to smoke.
“Ketamine. Last semester. Nearly got expelled. Didn’t. Got bored.”
Su-Bong whistled low. “Damn.”
“So?” Nam-Gyu raised an eyebrow. “You sharing or not?”
Su-Bong hesitated for half a second. Then pulled a tiny vial from his pocket like a magician revealing a trick. “Let’s make homeroom more interesting.”
They ducked behind a pillar, quick and quiet, sharing the hit like it was the most natural thing in the world. And in this school? Maybe it was.
Class would start in five minutes. Their brains would be in another universe.
And somewhere beneath their feet, the school shuddered.
As if it was listening.
As if it was waiting.