I wake up to the smell of smoke and stale beer. Mom’s passed out on the couch again, one arm dangling over the side like she forgot I existed. The TV murmurs something I don’t care about. I shrug off the blanket and swing my legs to the floor. Cold. It's always cold. Faded walls, peeling paint, a radiator that clanks like it’s about to explode—but it’s home. Sort of.

I glance at the clock. I’m late, obviously. School doesn’t care if I’m awake or not. Neither does she. Hell, sometimes I think nobody cares if I even get there at all.

But that’s fine. I don’t care either. Not really.

I push my hair back and rub the sleep from my eyes. My chest tightens a little—nothing major, just the usual. A warning I’ve learned to ignore. My heart doesn’t like running, climbing, or pushing too hard. Doesn’t like excitement. But I love it anyway. Adrenaline makes the ache worth it. Makes me feel alive. Makes the world notice me—even if for the wrong reasons.

"I look like shit."Mei says she looks at herself in the mirror, her hair messy from her unusual sleeping positions. Her eyes have black bags underneath due to sleeping at 1AM. Mei sighs as she goes to the shower, switching on the tap as she starts removing her clothes....

8:50 AM

Mei is now running to school, still tying her long, luxurious blond hair, but she gives up throwing the elastic bans away as she maneuvers around a car that almost hits her. She then spots her school Shenzhou High School (神州高中) , she then jumps over the back wall of the school landing in a crouch, but she quickly stands up and picks up her bag before running off,

"God, I don't want to get detention already!" Mei says in a quick breath as she climbs up the stairs.

"Salvation!Finally!" Mei exclaims as she finally reaches her class, and while still opening the door, the bell, as if it was waiting for her to arrive, rings, signaling the end of the lesson.

"I'm.....late, aren't I?" Mei says as she grins sheepishly as Mr Tanaka, their homeroom teacher.

"Miss Lian Mei rules will be respected and followed in this class understood?" Mr Tanaka responds as he eyes her sharply as Mei takes her seat at the back row of the class sighing in relief as she puts her bag down.

"Sure thing, sir." Mei exclaims as she rubs the back of her head, smiling apologetically as she stares back at Mr Tanaka.

"Miss Mei, if you can't behave, then don't come. You are only stalling people who came here to work and be educated. Sit down. I don't want to hear any complaints about you in the next 6 hours.If you want to avoid detention, then" Mr Tanaka says as he turns his attention away from Sakura as he cleans the board with a nearby duster."

"Ay Ay Mr Grumps I won't even hurt a fly." Mei replies lowly as she grins mischievously , pulling out her book she places her book onto the table and opens the book as she starts scribbling the notes down but she cracks a joke here and there when Mr Tanaka averts his attention from them.

9:30 AM

The bell rings, signaling the end of the period and the beginning of lunch ." Ah, my favorite sound in the whole world , the sound of brief freedom."Mei said as she quickly started packing up her stationary and books already getting up to her feet as she slang her bag over her shoulder, running off.

Mei runs to the back of the school and hides beneath the bleachers as she lowers her bag and desperately searches in her pockets for an inhaler.

She was having one of her episodes again, but this time, she realized she may have pushed it too far .

"Okay, next time, jog to school and create a sad story, then try to become a star track runner."Mei exclaims as she finds her inhaler, and she quickly steadies her hands to stop them from shaking as she inhales deeply.

After a few more, Mei breathes softly as she pockets her inhaler , searching and scanning the whole perimeter to see if anyone had spotted her but smiles as she realizes no one is there.She stands up from her crouch dusting off the dirt and any remaining evidence. She then takes her bag and runs off as if her entire episode didn't happen.

"Just smile and keep acting like everything is okay. Mei, they won't ask questions when they see you're smiling or realize that you're actually hurting, but enough of the negative thoughts gotta hurry before the bell rings" Mei says quietly to herself as she stares at her pocket where the inhaler is and she tucks it in nicely one more time before smiling mischievously as she runs off to the cafeteria.

Break ended sadly, but we still had to continue classes, and here i am, oh ops, let's continue with the story!

— Mei

It was one of those afternoons that felt like it would never end. The air in class was thick and warm, the sun hitting straight through the dusty window beside me. My desk was half covered in doodles — flowers, skulls, random lyrics — all carved in with the corner of my pen. I didn’t even realize how much I’d done until I looked down and saw the entire surface covered in chaos. Looked kinda cool, though. Like art made out of boredom.

The teacher was going on and on about something — probably math again. I wasn’t listening. I never really did. My mind was somewhere else, drifting between the faint throb in my chest and the sound of the ceiling fan that clicked every time it spun. My heartbeat felt off again, a little uneven, but I ignored it. It always passed.

Then, out of nowhere, the door slid open — loud enough to make everyone shut up. Even the teacher stopped mid-sentence, chalk still in his hand.

I didn’t look up. Not right away. I was too busy shading a flame I’d drawn at the edge of my desk. Transfers always came and went — new faces, same fake introductions. None of them ever mattered.

“Class,” the teacher said, sounding like he’d just swallowed sunshine, “we have a new student joining us today.”

Someone in the front whispered, “Another one?”

I rolled my eyes. Fantastic. Another try-hard.

The teacher stepped aside, and a boy walked in. His uniform was actually ironed — like, who even does that? His bag was slung over one shoulder, his shoes clean, hair neat, posture straight. Everything about him screamed “I follow the rules.” The kind of kid teachers love and people like me piss off just by breathing.

“I’m Jin Wei,” he said simply. His voice was calm, deeper than I expected, but not cold. Just… steady.

The room went quiet for a second. Then came the whispers — the same recycled chatter you always hear when someone new walks in. “He’s from Beijing?” “He looks smart.” “Bet he’s rich.”

“Jin Wei, you can sit at the back,” the teacher said, pointing in my direction.

I froze mid-doodle. Of course.

There were empty seats all over the damn room, but no — he had to be put next to me. The “problem student.”

As he walked toward the back, I pretended not to care, twirling my pen between my fingers. But when he passed by my desk, I glanced up — just once.

His eyes caught mine. Brown, steady, too calm for this place. He didn’t flinch or look away like most people did. He just looked. And that — that tiny, quiet look — annoyed the hell out of me.

I dropped my pen, muttering under my breath, “Great. Another model student. Just what I needed.”

He sat down beside me, sliding his bag under the desk without a sound. No introduction, no forced smile. Just silence. Weirdly calm silence.

I went back to doodling, pretending I didn’t notice. But I did. I noticed how still he was, how every move he made was deliberate — controlled, like he didn’t belong in the same world as my noise.

My desk was a mess of doodles — wings, flames, a tiny stick figure falling off a cliff. I tapped my pen against the wood, trying to ignore the quiet presence next to me.

“You always draw on the desks?” His voice was calm, like he wasn’t trying to be rude but somehow sounded…judgmental.

I shot him a sideways glance. Blue eyes, steady, not laughing, not rolling with me like everyone else usually did. He wasn’t impressed. That annoyed me more than anything.

“Depends,” I said, smirking. “You always point out other people’s business, or is this special?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just tilted his head, studying my pen strokes like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “I just…don’t get it. Why ruin something everyone else has to use?”

I snorted. “Because it’s boring otherwise. You think life’s perfect little lines and rules, huh? Newsflash, genius — it’s not. Some of us gotta make our own fun.”

He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like he wanted to smile but didn’t. “You make fun?”

I leaned back, balancing on the edge of my chair. “I survive.”

“Survive,” he repeated, testing the word like it was foreign. “That’s…different.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, tapping my pen against the desk again. “Different’s my middle name. Well, not really, but you get the idea.”

He was quiet again, just staring at my doodles. Not judging, not laughing, just…watching. And for some reason, that made my chest tighten — not because of him, not yet. Just because someone had actually noticed me without yelling or whispering or making nasty comments.

The teacher started talking again, but I wasn’t listening anymore. My heartbeat had steadied, but something else had started up — a strange itch in the air. And as stupid as it sounds… I kinda hated how curious I suddenly felt.

MY STUPID HEART ❤️ 💙 —

Mei

My name’s Jin Wei. I moved here from Beijing because my dad’s work dragged the whole family along — some long-term project that meant a year away from the city we’d lived in my whole life. I didn’t have a big say in it; that’s how it went most of my life. Plans get made for me, and I get good at following them.

Home was not dramatic. Two parents who worked too much, dinner at the same time every night, a bookshelf full of textbooks and a piano, pushed against the wall because Mom thought lessons would keep me steady. We kept things neat. Rules were not suggestions; they were grooves to live inside. It taught me habits: fold your clothes, finish what you start, don’t raise your voice unless you mean it. It taught me how to be quiet in a loud room.

I study because I like order — numbers make sense when people don’t. I play the piano the way some people run: hard and fast when I need the world to move. I have a drawer full of little things I keep for no one but myself: a chipped token from a subway ride, a note with a joke I thought was funny that morning, a photograph of the skyline from my old roof. Those things remind me I’m allowed to keep pieces of the past, even when the rest of my life is being rearranged.

People call me disciplined. Teachers like that word. Friends call it boring, sometimes. I don’t mind either; being steady keeps other things from collapsing. But steady is also lonely in a particular way. You learn to nod at the right times, to make room for someone else’s story, and you forget how to start telling your own.

I moved schools before — once when I was twelve, once when I was fifteen — so I know the routine: new face, strategic questions. You watch, you learn the social weather, you place yourself where you’ll cause the least trouble. I’ve learned how to make friends without needing too much from them. It’s useful. It’s safe.

What I don’t tell people is that I notice details nobody else seems to care about. The way someone’s laugh trembles at the end. The way a hand lingers on a desk. Little glitches that say more than words. I keep those notes in my head; they’re better than idle gossip. Maybe that’s why, when I sat in the back row at Shenzhou for the first time and saw the girl with the messed-up uniform and the paint on her hands, I found myself watching instead of blending in. Not because I wanted to—because I couldn’t help it.

I’m good at calm. I’m not good at chaos. I like to fix things quietly when they break.I’m learning that some breaks don’t want fixing the way I’ve been trained to fix them. Sometimes, they want to burn bright for a little while and leave a different kind of mark.

That’s me. I keep my notebooks tidy, I play the piano to empty rooms, and I move through new places like a careful. I’m trying to figure out whether I belong somewhere that isn’t beamed into place for me. Whether I can choose. Whether I want to.

Yet I'm here sitting next to this blond girl who seems to have a more interesting background than a manwha character, but when I get interested in something... I always figure it out