"Beat his ass!"
Bang!
Smack!
"He deserves it! How dare he think he could seduce my woman! Asshole!"
Voosh!
"Get your hands off him," Brian appeared to my rescue once again. It's almost like he had been planning it all along.
He gave the bunch of rich brats a taste of their own medicine before they took off running. Meanwhile, I just lay on the ground, my eyes fixed on the ceiling of the school's sports hall.
"C'mon, get up… You're injured. Come, let me take you to the clinic." Brian tried helping me up, but I shoved him aside.
"I don't need your damn help! Why the hell are you even here?" I lashed out, pushing him aside and walking toward the exit, but he followed behind me—just like I expected.
"Why do you treat me like this all the time? All I want is to be friends with you, Kyle. Yet, you always reject me."
"Argh! Stop whining. I already told you—I don't want anything to do with you or your bunch of rich brats. Go party and make other friends who can afford expensive clothes and cars, because I am absolutely not that dude."
I said for the gazillionth time to the idiot before walking away. I hopped on my bicycle and pedaled straight home. It was already seven in the evening. I knew very well my dad would be mad to see me come past curfew, but I still couldn't tell him the reason why. If I did, he would just tear up. He's an absolute crybaby.
In the blink of an eye, it started raining. Ah, great. What wonderful weather.
I know this is probably something you don't want to hear, but since we're doing this, I have no choice. I'll have to give a slight and brief introduction to myself. Sigh!
So, my name is Kyle Bon. I'm 19, and everything is literally wrong with me. I could call myself a psychopath, yet I don't have the instinct to kill. I'm not a good person, nor am I bad. If there's something I'm absolutely sure of about my life, it's that I love painting. It's the only thing that has stopped me from going completely crazy in this shitty world.
I'm being raised by my dad, and so far, so good. He has a stable job, and we eat three times a day what else could I need?
Yet, trouble never stops following me. You could say it has something to do with my facial appearance. Call it bragging or whatever, but I am beautiful. Why did I use beautiful of all words? Because unlike most normal boys my age, I have the facial features of a woman.
Just hand me a wig and a dress and I'm your next K-pop idol. While others would say it's a blessing to look so alluring, I would call it a curse. Being misunderstood for a woman all the time and having beautiful girls treat me like their new gay bestie is the worst. But there's nothing I can do about it.
C'mon, you guys just saw how a bunch of maniacs beat the hell out of me, unaware it was his woman who came at me first. Sigh. Sometimes, we just have to learn to live with certain things.
Soon, I got home. But to my surprise, I saw a bunch of police cars parked in front of my house. Funny enough, an ambulance was there too.
Before I could even get off my bike, a bunch of paramedics rolled out a stretcher—and lying on it was my old man. But… why the hell was his face covered?
1 WEEK LATER
"Good morning, Mr. Bon. I hope you've been well?"
"…"
Cough. "W-Well, I know you're still grieving due to your father's sudden death and all, but I want you to know you're not alone. I'm here to make sure you're well-secured academically, physically, and even mentally. That's why I keep asking why you insist on refusing the scholarship to study at the Art Elite College. It's such a well-known and prestigious school that would groom your art skills perfectly.
Your father is dead, none of your relatives want to take you in, and your mother can't be reached. We can't possibly find a foster home for you—you're already over eighteen."
"You have to start thinking about your future. This scholarship could be your stepping stone. You really need it."
"Lady! Can't you stop whining for a second? It's making my head spin." I finally had enough. I'd been hearing her voice for the past week—from steady phone calls to voice notes—and now she was literally giving me a pep talk.
Yeah, she was obviously taken aback, and she now looked at me with a sassier expression in her eyes.
"Well, young man, I will ignore your rudeness because I know you're currently going through a lot. But I have to do something about it—it's my job. I can't leave you unattended. So I advise you to rethink before rejecting the scholarship, Mr. Bon."
I finally had the courage to step into my house after the whole incident. It's weird how everything is still the same—just the way I left it a week ago.
Scholarship? It's because of that same scholarship I left home, and the old man was all alone. If only I had stayed behind and forgotten about my dream… then maybe, just maybe, I could have found the one who killed him.
The police said he committed suicide, but I know my old man wouldn't do that. Yes, he suffered from depression, but he just couldn't have done it. Something—or someone—killed him, and I'm going to find out who and why.
I packed a bunch of boxes and started placing my things in them. For the time being, I'd be moving to a shelter home until things were settled with my lawyers.
My relatives would never want me—that's for sure—since they all know I'm an absolute asshole. And that woman—my so-called mother or whatever they call her… it's better she doesn't even show up. Her presence would only add salt to the injury.
Ring! Ring!
I picked up my phone. "Hello?"
"Oh! Mr. Bon, I have good news. I was finally able to contact one of your family friends—well, relatives—and he has agreed to take you in. In fact, he should be pulling up in your driveway any second now. The papers are all settled, so you don't need to come by anymore. Have fun!"
She cut the call, and the next thing I heard was the sound of a bunch of cars entering my driveway.
What the hell was happening now?!