My parents had been trapped in gambling and alcohol addiction for a long time. A year ago, when I was sixteen, they ended their lives by lighting charcoal briquettes in a gambling den's underground parking lot. Since then, I've been working part-time jobs and studying like my life depended on it just to survive. Eventually, I managed to get into Cheonglim High School with a full financial aid scholarship.

I had prepared myself for the rumors that the scholarship students were heavily ostracized by the regular students, but experiencing it firsthand made the reality feel even harsher. Despite the discrimination, I was proud of myself for taking first place in the midterms. Not knowing what kind of events that would trigger.

On the day the rankings were posted, Kim Suhwan came to find me after school. I was momentarily taken aback by his absurd suggestion that we hang out together. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when I turned him down, saying I had to go to my part-time job.

That evening, on my way to work, Kim Suhwan's gang appeared in an alley and beat me like a dog. Kim Suhwan just stood there with an expressionless face, smoking a single cigarette while watching me.

Returning home, I lay on the hard floor and thought. Should I report the school violence? But could I really win against them? Should I tell a teacher? Would anything change if I did? They'd probably just scold me instead. And then on my way home, I'd get beaten just like today—no, worse than today.

The next day, Kim Suhwan approached me with a nonchalant face as if nothing had happened, asking to hang out again after school. Thinking about the money I lost from missing work last night and the money I'd lose by missing it today, the ribs I got hit in yesterday felt even colder. But since I'd be missing work whether I agreed or refused, I forced out a 'yes'.

You took me to a movie theater as if I were your lover, and fed me at a restaurant I could never afford even if I worked my whole life.

The following day, Kim Suhwan took me to the house of one of the guys who had beaten me. In that magnificent house, there was the jarring sight of familiar green glass bottles, contrasted with wine that looked expensive and perfectly suited to the home, even if I didn't know much about it.

Kim Suhwan laughed playfully, telling me to drink wine instead of soju, and poured me a glass. Then he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and gave it to me, saying he'd teach me how to smoke.

Maybe it's because he's rich, but the cigarette didn't seem like the cheap brands I'd memorized while working at the convenience store; it felt like an expensive foreign brand.

I smoked the cigarette just as you said. The cigarette you gave me was bitter and nauseating.

Kim Suhwan dragged me everywhere like a keychain. Whether he was drinking or smoking, he made me participate in everything.

As always, I followed you after school.

In the moments I followed you, you accepted my outbursts to some extent, as if showing a final bit of mercy.