Archive of Our Own ^beta

There’s a curse that Saheon’s sister had told her about a long time ago. 

It happens when you get too comfortable. Back then, suffering through the worst of it, she’d warned Saheon time and time again: don’t get comfortable. Comfort leads to laziness, which simply leads to acceptance.

Saheon had thought, but isn’t that a good thing? Now, staring at the large, taunting 98% written in blood-red ink on her midterm report, she realizes that her sister was right.

It’s not a bad number, Saheon knows that. Her teacher had gently patted her back, congratulating her efforts, and her group of pretty, unremarkable friends, had immediately jumped to compliment her.

Truthfully, Saheon would have been satisfied—she really would have—but only if that accursed bitch Go Yeongeun hadn’t gotten 100%.

Since their first year, they’ve always been in the same class.

Saheon, fresh-faced and sixteen at the time, thought Go Yeongeun was about as interesting as tape residue on a wall. 

Sure, she might’ve been friendly, likeable, and a little bit pretty, but she wasn’t special, or anything. She was boring. She was quiet. She was also a little bit ugly when her bangs were clipped to the side.

Saheon didn’t care about her at all.

But that was until their first class rankings came out and Saheon was second. Second. Saheon, who had been first her entire life—at the beginning, because of her parents’ pressure, and then because she genuinely started to enjoy being better than her peers—had ranked second.  

And hah —would you look at that? Go-Unremarkable-Bitch-Yeongeun was first. 

Despite being alive for sixteen years already, Saheon felt like her life had just started.

Go Yeongeun, when doing classwork, does it in a very specific way.

Saheon watches her obsessively.

When it comes to calculus, she’s very thorough. The notebook she uses is from some cheap stationary shop, judging from how thin the paper is. She lifts a sheet, fingernails skirting the top right corner of the page, sliding down to the middle, and then she folds. It makes two columns.

It’s all very pretentious stuff. 

She keeps her textbook on her left side, always—and like an idiot, she cranes her neck awkwardly to read the left page instead of simply moving it closer towards her. 

She writes with a mechanical pencil. It’s sleek, silver, but with an old Hello Kitty sticker stuck near the end, which she brushes her thumb along whenever she’s stumped on a question.

Her eraser is plain white, rectangular, and lacking a wrapper. Her calculator is the school’s standard issue one. 

She marks her answers with a red pen that has a small goral keychain hanging off the end. 

Saheon stares, infuriated, as Go Yeongeun circles her answers—circles to signify that they’re all correct, when Saheon’s already had to fix four mistakes.

She can’t stand it.

“Isn’t she…hm…kind of a bitch?” Saheon asks out of nowhere as her friends gather around her in the school’s courtyard.

“A bitch? Who?” one of them asks, leaning close. “Jang Mi-ae? Yeah, she is a bitch. Her attitude’s out of this world.”

“No, no,” Saheon corrects quickly. “Go Yeongeun. Isn’t she really bitchy?”

Her friends go quiet, looking at each other as if the answer to who Go Yeongeun could possibly be is written on someone’s face. Well, it’s not surprising. Saheon’s friends and Go Yeongeun move in different groups. It makes sense that they don’t know her. 

“She’s that mousy girl that sits behind Inha, you know the one—brown bob, quiet, hangs out with Kim Soleum…” they still have no idea who she’s talking about, so Saheon puts it bluntly: “The girl that ranked first during midterms.”

Recognition suddenly dawns on everyone’s faces. Why wouldn’t they know the genius that managed to usurp their leader’s academic throne? They’d shit-talked her for hours when they noticed how upset Saheon seemed over her class ranking, after all. 

“Anyways, like I was saying, doesn’t it seem like she thinks she’s better than everyone?” Saheon runs a hand through her hair, deft fingers untangling soft curls. “It’s so obvious, it’s literally written all over her face. And the way she looks at you…it’s like she’s trying to rub it in.”

“Really?” a male voice interjects out of nowhere. “I didn’t know Go Yeongeun was like that.”

Slowly, Saheon turns her head—lo and behold, Kim Soleum and his freak sunbaes are standing behind her.

She has no problem with them, not really, it’s just that…back in first year, for about a month, she’d thought he was outrageously attractive and smart and wanted to get close to him, but when she began trying, she’d realized that there was something majorly wrong with his head. 

He seemed like…well, she doesn’t actually know, but…a psychopath, maybe? An undiagnosed one, most likely. He’s just… weird!

Their relationship has been sour ever since.

She’s terrified of him, and he revels in it. A real villain. 

“K–Kim Soleum,” she squeaks, pressing herself against the wall. “H–Hi? Hi! Long time no see, right?”

There’s something so off putting about him—get too close and you’ll die, kind of thing. It’s terrifying.  

“Yeah, hi.” Kim Soleum smirks. “You really like talking, don’t you, Baek Saheon? You’re good at it, I have to say. Just…don’t talk too much, okay? Your voice isn’t exactly pleasant to hear.” With that, he leaves.

Hah. Hah! What a fucking joke. Not only does Go Yeongeun think she’s better than Saheon, but she even has her own stupid little security personnel to spread it around. 

Saheon can’t stand her!

The next time Saheon has to correct more than one mistake in calculus, she throws away her pride, applies a new layer of lip gloss, puts on her prettiest smile, and slowly walks to Go Yeongeun’s desk.

With a Saheon-shaped shadow falling over her notebook, Go Yeongeun can't do anything but look up. 

“Hi!” Saheon waves, her own notebook held close to her chest. “You’re Go Yeongeun, right?”

“Oh—yes! Yes, hi!” Go Yeongeun startles, perking up in her seat. “Um…you’re Baek Saheon. What’s up?”

“It’s, um, nothing, really, I just…” in a practiced move, she looks a bit to the side, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re top of the class and so smart…if you’re not too busy…is it alright if I ask for some help?”

Go Yeongeun looks shocked, surprised, but she smiles. She gestures for Saheon to grab a chair and sit beside her, then prompts her to show which questions she needs help with. 

It’s all very fruitful for Saheon. Go Yeongeun explains things smoothly, step by step. She marks every part of her equation with numbers, saying that it helps her understand better when she returns to her notes.

Saheon can’t help but stare. Looking at her this closely, Go Yeongeun really is pretty. Her hair might be short, but it’s silky. When she looks down, her lashes fall over her eyes like curtains, fanning out over her cheekbones. 

The colour of her irises enchants Saheon especially—it’s something like cerise, but more fiery.

“Baek Saheon?” Go Yeongeun’s voice suddenly breaks her out of her reverie. “Sorry, am I talking too fast? Did you understand?”

Blinking a few times, Saheon feels embarrassed about the direction her thoughts just took. “Oh, no, I understand. Thanks, you’re so nice—I’m sure it helps you, being nice.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah…” Go Yeongeun laughs awkwardly.

Saheon grabs her notebook, thanks Go Yeongeun one last time, and returns to her seat.

She has a bone to pick.

“She’s such a stuck-up bitch.” Saheon furiously shovels a spoonful of rice into her mouth. “Like, the way she was explaining it to me—it’s like she thought I was a fucking idiot.”

Her friends barely pay her any mind. It’s been like this for days—Saheon cozies up to Go Yeongeun during class, obsessively writes down all of her study techniques, and complains about it all.

Saheon can’t stand being looked down upon. Before Go Yeongeun came along, she was perfect. She’s been perfect her whole life, and suddenly, some stupid bitch is going to come and take that away from her? Saheon can handle lots of stuff, but being second best isn’t one of them. 

“It’s clear that she thinks she’s better than me. Who the fuck does she think she—”

“Baek Saheon! Hi!” Go Yeongeun walks by with her friends, an empty lunch tray in her hands. The smile on her face is beautiful, and it pisses Saheon off more than anything. 

“Oh, my gosh— hey!” Saheon giggles a little to make it seem like she’s happy about the interruption. “I was just thinking about you, thanks for helping me in class today.” 

“Aww, it’s no problem!” 

She remains standing there awkwardly for a few seconds. Annoyed, Saheon laughs again to fill the silence, but also to send a message—when are you going to leave already? 

Unfortunately, her message doesn’t get interpreted properly. Go Yeongeun’s eyes seem to glimmer, and then: “Sorry if this is random, but your laugh is really pretty. It literally sounds like music.”

Laugh. Pretty. Like music. Saheon’s world narrows down to those four words. She goes completely quiet.

Even after she mutters a soft thank you and Go Yeongeun leaves, she can’t stop thinking about it.

Laying on her older sister’s bed and waiting for her facemask to dry, Saheon sighs dreamily.

“Unnie, did you know?” she begins quietly, as if about to confess some romantic, yearnful little secret. “Go Yeongeun said my laugh was pretty today. She said it sounded musical.”

“Go Yeongeun? Which Go Yeongeun. Go-Unremarkable-Bitch-Yeongeun?” 

“I don’t know who that is,” she replies, letting out another dreamy sigh. “I think I like her…”

For the entire weekend, Saheon is on cloud nine because Go Yeongeun is suddenly an angel incarnate. The girl of her dreams. Everything sweet and nice. 

Saheon goes to bed dreaming of Go Yeongeun’s smile.

Saheon wakes up thinking about the way Go Yeongeun’s hair shines red in the sun.

She’s sick with love.

When school starts again on Monday and their calculus teacher returns their tests, everything sours once more.

Saheon has 98.5% while Go Yeongeun has 99%.

Hah. angel incarnate? Devil is more accurate. Girl of Saheon’s dreams? More like of her nightmares. Everything sweet and nice? No, everything salty and mean.

Shining red hair? No way. It looks like shit.

Saheon is not sick with love—she is positively, no, wrong word, negatively, sick with hate.