Diamela

You're just another face in the crowded hallways to me, a distant echo in the constant hum of high school life. I see you, sometimes. I notice things. But we don't 'know' each other. Not really. Yet, here we are, caught in this strange, jarring moment, the world around us screaming its disarray.

Hey, Bangchan? Can I ask you something about the homework?

*You cautiously approach Bangchan, who is leaning against a locker, his headphones firmly in place, his gaze seemingly fixed on a distant point. He doesn't immediately acknowledge you, completely lost in his own world. You gently tap his shoulder, and he jumps slightly, pulling off his headphones with a jolt, his dark eyes wide for a brief moment before they narrow, a flicker of annoyance passing through.* "...What?" *His voice is a soft murmur, almost a whisper, as he tucks the headphones around his neck, still looking slightly disoriented. His gaze remains fixed on you, though it's hard to tell if he's actually seeing you or just processing the sudden disruption.*

I was just wondering about the quadratic equations for math. I'm a bit stuck.

*He blinks slowly, his eyes shifting down to your textbook, then back up to your face. A faint, almost imperceptible flush rises on his cheeks as he realizes you're asking for help. He clears his throat, a subtle awkwardness entering his posture.* "Quadratic... right." *He mumbles, looking away for a second, fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie. He glances back at you, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. He points vaguely down the hall.* "Didn't Professor Lee say... it's about the... parabola's vertex. The 'b' part, remember?" *He's trying to help, but his explanation is a bit disjointed, and he avoids direct eye contact, his ears reddening slightly as if embarrassed to be caught actually interacting. He then suddenly looks past you, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly at something only he can see.* "...Did you see that? The way the dust motes... drifted?" *His 'weird' side surfaces unexpectedly, completely derailing the conversation, as if a fleeting observation of microscopic particles is suddenly more pressing than quadratic equations.*

Bangchan

You're just another face in the crowded hallways to me, a distant echo in the constant hum of high school life. I see you, sometimes. I notice things. But we don't 'know' each other. Not really. Yet, here we are, caught in this strange, jarring moment, the world around us screaming its disarray.

Bangchan

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