POV: Sun
There are three things I absolutely despise.
Cold coffee, because perfection deserves to be savored hot.
People who dawdle in my path, clogging up my spotlight.
And Tee Teerawat Darunpakdee, he's the human equivalent of a raincloud crashing my parade.
The third just slouched into class.
Late. Again.
His hair looks like he wrestled a monsoon and lost. Blazer hanging loose, sleeves pushed up like the uniform offended him personally. There's this careless way he carries himself. It's like rules are optional and expectations are for other people.
And that face.
Blank. Unbothered. Like nothing here matters.
It's infuriating.
It's worse that people notice him anyway.
He walks in like he's the main act, and we're all just background noise.
Newsflash, Tee I built this stage.
"Mr. Teerawat,"
Ms. Pim says, voice sharp as ever. "Second day of term, and you're already late?"
He shrugs.
Not even a fake apology. Not even a half-smile.
Just… nothing.
The class goes quiet for a second, waiting. Teachers here expect something—respect, at least the performance of it.
Tee doesn't perform.
He just walks past.
Right past me.
Close enough that I feel the shift in air, but not close enough to acknowledge. No glance. No nod.
Like I'm not me.
Like I'm not Sun Suwannasuk Sawannakul.
That… annoys me more than it should.
Moon leans slightly toward me, pen paused mid-equation. "He's impossible," she murmurs, voice low but amused.
I tilt my head, watching him drop into his seat at the back like he owns it.
"I've dealt with impossible," I say.
"That's not impossible. That's just rude."
From behind me, Shine lets out a soft snort. I don't even have to turn I can practically hear the smirk in it.
"If you throw something at him," she says, "I'll pay for your lunch."
I glance back at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Violence? From you? I'm impressed."
"Not violence," she says smoothly, reapplying her gloss. "Public service."
Moon sighs. "Please don't encourage him."
I grin. "Relax. I have standards."
Atleast most of the time.
I turn forward again, but my attention drifts.
Because this isn't normal.
Not him—people like him exist. Quiet, detached, too cool to care.
But the way he fits here? Doesn't fit, actually.
Eliya Academy runs on attention. On reputation. On presence.
And he just… opts out.
No charm. No effort. No interest in playing the game.
And still—
He's always ahead.
One mark higher.
One answer faster.
One step closer to something that should already be mine.
Class drags on. Calculus first. Then literature. Then history, where Moon corrects the teacher twice without even sounding rude.
I half-listen, pen spinning between my fingers.
My mind keeps circling back.
Tee.
He doesn't laugh at my jokes. Not even the good ones.
Doesn't react when I walk in.
Doesn't flirt back.
And once—once—he looked me straight in the eye in the cafeteria and said, "You're overrated."
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No fear.
I remember the silence that followed. The way everyone looked at me, waiting.
I smiled.
Then "accidentally" spilled mango sticky rice all over his notebook.
He didn't even get mad.
Just looked at it, then at me, like I'd proven a point.
Still not sure whose.
The bell rings, sharp and final.
Chairs scrape. Voices rise. The room shifts from controlled to chaotic in seconds.
I don't move right away.
I never do.
Moon is already organizing her notes, neat and color-coded like always. Shine's checking her reflection in her phone, adjusting something that doesn't need adjusting.
And Tee—
He's already standing.
Of course he is.
Bag slung over his shoulder, heading for the door like he has somewhere better to be.
Like this—this class, this place—isn't worth staying for.
That irritates me.
More than being ignored.
"Hold up," I call, not loud—but it carries.
It always does.
The room settles almost instantly. People pause mid-conversation, mid-step.
Attention shifts.
Back where it belongs.
Tee stops at the door.
Just for a second.
Good.
"The student council needs volunteers for the Cultural Fest," I say, leaning back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other. Casual. Effortless. "I'm leading the committee."
A few people nod like that was obvious.
It was.
"And we're not doing anything mediocre this year," I continue. "So if you want in, you better actually bring something useful."
My gaze lands on him.
"Like a personality."
A few laughs ripple through the room.
Shine smirks, clearly entertained. Moon closes her eyes for a second like she's counting to five.
"Sun," she mutters, "don't."
Too late.
Tee doesn't laugh.
Doesn't react at all.
He just looks at me.
Really looks, this time.
And it's different from before.
Not dismissive.
Not impressed either.
Just… direct.
Like he's measuring something.
It lasts barely a second.
Then he turns and walks out.
No comeback.
No expression.
Nothing.
The door shuts behind him.
And somehow—
It feels like I lost something.
I click my tongue softly, looking away. "Rude," I mutter.
Shine lets out a quiet laugh. "You tried."
"I didn't try," I say immediately. "I don't try. I succeed."
Moon gives me a look. "You care."
"I don't."
"You do."
I lean back, stretching my arms behind my head. "He's irrelevant."
She doesn't respond right away. Just watches me for a second, like she's thinking.
"Then why are you watching the door?" she asks.
I blink.
Then look away.
Right.
I stand, grabbing my bag. "Come on," I say lightly. "I have better things to do than think about him."
Which is true.
I do.
Events to plan. People to meet. A reputation to maintain.
A life that runs exactly the way I want it to.
Still—
As I walk out of the classroom, my eyes flick briefly down the corridor.
Just for a second.
He's already gone.
Of course he is.
Tch.
Fine.
Let him walk around like he doesn't belong to my world.
Let him act like he doesn't care.
Let him stay quiet, stay distant, stay—
Annoying.
This is still my stage.
And Tee Teerawat Darunpakdee?
He's just a distraction.
One I'll deal with soon enough.