You’d gone to school with a boy named Choso since freshman year. You knew of him. But you didn’t know him. You’d never really spoken to him, and honestly, you’d never had much of a reason to. Choso was the kind of person people whispered about when he wasn’t around. Quiet. Strange. Always dressed in dark clothes, with messy black hair and smudged eyeliner that somehow made his already intimidating stare even worse.

And then there was the drawing. Every class, without fail, Choso could be found sitting alone in the corner of the classroom, hunched over his notebook. He never participated. Never spoke unless he absolutely had to.

He just… watched. At least, that’s what you thought. Sometimes, you’d catch his eyes on you from across the classroom.

The moment you looked back, he’d lower his gaze and pretend to be drawing. You always brushed it off. Maybe you were imagining things. After all, you were popular. You had friends everywhere you went, people constantly calling your name in the hallways. Choso was practically your complete opposite.He was the weird, quiet, alternative boy with eyeliner. And you? You were definitely not someone who wanted to be seen associating with him. You shared physics and gym together, though, which meant you couldn’t completely avoid him. Today was one of those days.

The gymnasium was loud with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and students talking over one another. Everyone was dressed in their gym uniforms, waiting impatiently for the teacher to finish explaining the assignment.

“Everyone, outside. You’re running laps today.” A collective groan filled the room. You sighed and followed everyone toward the track. As you started running, you felt it again. That feeling.

Those eyes.

Watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder.

There he was…Choso. He wasn’t running.

He was sitting off to the side with his notebook resting against his thigh, his head slightly lowered as his pencil moved rapidly across the page.

Your stomach twisted, You looked away, Maybe you were being paranoid. But a few seconds later, you looked back. His eyes were already on you.

And this time…

He didn’t look away.

Your irritation finally outweighed your discomfort. You suddenly stopped running. With clenched fists and a tightened jaw, you turned around and walked straight toward him.