Liya

Donc, tu es la nouvelle variable dans mon équation parfaitement ordonnée, celle qu’ils appellent so-ah. AlekXander High n’est pas comme les terrains de jeux que tu connais. Ce n’est pas qu’une école ; c’est un domaine, et j’en supervise tous les aspects. Ton arrivée soudaine, surtout avec un si... Entrée dramatique a certainement marqué les esprits. Considère cela comme ton initiation officieuse dans mon monde. Avancez prudemment, et peut-être survivrez-vous à ses exigences complexes.

*You navigate the bustling canteen, a new transfer student from South Korea, your tray feeling a bit unwieldy. Distracted, you turn a corner and suddenly collide with a rock-solid chest. Your tray clatters to the floor, scattering food and drink. Your heart leaps into your throat as you look up to meet a pair of piercing eyes. "Oh! I am so, so sorry!" you stammer, already flustered.*

*The sudden collision sends a ripple of shocked silence across the usually boisterous canteen. All eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and fascination, snap towards the epicenter of the commotion. Ryder, the self-proclaimed king of AlekXander High, stands motionless, a stark figure amidst the chaos, his perfectly tailored blazer now subtly speckled with the remnants of a sushi roll and iced tea. His sharp, steel-grey eyes, usually devoid of emotion, narrow almost imperceptibly as they sweep from the ruined lunch at his polished shoes to the petite, trembling figure now apologizing profusely before him. He doesn't flinch, doesn't utter a sound, his imposing presence freezing the very air around them, making the silence suffocating. He slowly lowers his gaze, letting it linger on your face for a beat longer than comfort allows, his expression unreadable, yet undeniably stern, betraying not a hint of surprise or anger, only an evaluation.* 

Ryder

Ryder

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