Chapter 2 The First Break

The first break bell rang.

Almost everyone in the class immediately stood up. But that day, something felt different.

Nearly all the students—especially the girls—gathered around Darren.

“Darren, let’s go to the cafeteria!”

“Come with us!”

“What do you usually eat there?”

Their voices overlapped as they surrounded him. Some even tried to pull him along toward the door.

I stayed seated at my desk, quietly watching the scene.

Usually during break time, I either stayed in the classroom or went to the library. Crowded places like the cafeteria had never been comfortable for me.

A few girls started asking Darren for photos.

Others asked him to sign their notebooks.

I watched the commotion for a moment before finally deciding to leave.

The noise was starting to make me uncomfortable.

I had just taken a few steps toward the door when suddenly someone grabbed my hand.

I turned around.

It was Darren.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

His voice was soft, almost as if he didn’t notice the crowd around us.

For a second, I froze.

His hand was still holding mine. My chest suddenly felt tight, and my heart began beating faster.

After a few awkward seconds, I finally answered.

“I’m going to the library.”

Darren leaned slightly closer.

“Come to the cafeteria with me,” he whispered.

I shook my head.

“I want to go to the library.”

The truth was, I rarely went to the cafeteria.

My allowance wasn’t enough to buy snacks every day.

Even though I studied at a national-plus school, my family wasn’t actually wealthy. My school fees were mostly helped by my grandfather from my mother’s side. He was the one who supported my education here.

As for my daily allowance, it was very limited.

Usually just enough for transportation.

If there was any money left, I preferred to save it.

Besides, I was used to eating breakfast at home. I usually only bought food at school if there were extra classes that made me stay late.

“My treat,” Darren whispered.

I looked at him for a moment.

Then, slowly, I nodded.

I followed Darren to the cafeteria.

A few classmates trailed behind us.

Just as I expected, the cafeteria was even more crowded.

The moment Darren stepped inside, several students immediately turned their heads toward us.

“Darren!”

“Can we take a photo?”

“Darren, over here!”

Within seconds, we were surrounded again.

Some students even secretly took pictures with their phones.

I stood beside Darren awkwardly.

For some reason, I suddenly felt like… a bodyguard.

As if Darren deliberately stayed close to me so the others wouldn’t get too close.

Or maybe I was just someone who didn’t care about the excitement, and that somehow made him feel calmer.

I wasn’t really sure.

Over time, the students at school gradually became used to Darren.

And my days began to feel strangely faster.

Sitting next to someone as handsome and popular as him made everything busier than before.

The girls in class—who had barely noticed me before—started gathering around our desks almost every day.

They talked to Darren endlessly.

Most of the time, I simply listened.

Sometimes when I left the classroom for a moment and returned, I would find one of them sitting in my seat as if it belonged to her.

Usually I just stood there quietly until they realized I had come back.

I often listened to their conversations.

They asked Darren about his hobbies.

Where he spent his time outside school.

What kind of music he liked.

And about his band.

Darren himself was actually quite friendly.

I didn’t know whether it was because I was his seatmate or if he was simply that kind of person.

Sometimes the girls would ask to take pictures with him.

And Darren always agreed with a smile.

He never refused.

Soon it wasn’t only students from our class.

Students from the class next door, lower grades, and even seniors often gathered near our classroom door.

They would call his name from outside.

“Darren!”

“Can we take a picture?”

Sometimes they just wanted to see him up close.

Sometimes they only stood at the doorway, calling his name.

The seat beside me—the one that used to feel so quiet—was never quiet anymore.

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