summary: somehow you've gained the attention of the top scorer in school—you want nothing more than to avoid him but he’ll do anything to keep you next to him. part 2
a/n: happy one-ish month of me posting on this blog 🥳🥳
The one person you've been avoiding your entire school life, the smartest and most cunning person you've ever had the misfortune of meeting, had set his eyes on you.
It only took him 3 rounds of exams across one and a half years for him to find out that you've been lowering your own score to always be ranked 5th in the school; predicting the top 10 scorers for each exam and placing yourself in the middle. Analysing and tracking every student's score and rank, previous exam scores and weakest subjects of the top 10 in the level. Based on that, you would purposefully score better in some subjects, score worse for some, and eventually landing yourself in 5th. You really thought you could get away with it- afterall, why would 1st place even bother to look at 5th place? Or anyone, for that matter.
Ever since he'd confronted you about it and you were forced to reveal your hand, he's been acting weird- following you around, trying to make conversation, asking all kinds of questions.
"You mean... being friendly?" your deskmate and only friend sighed as you complained about your predicament. Again.
You groaned in frustration. "No! I mean, well- yes? But that's so out of character for him! Don't you think he's planning something?"
"I think you're just being paranoid," A yawn. "Not everyone has an ulterior motive." She yawned again before sprawling on her desk and drifting off to sleep.
You sighed as you stood up and walked out of the classroom. Maybe a walk would help, you thought to yourself.
Did no one else notice how he has the entire school in his hand? Or how he manipulates people freely just to get what he wants? Even the school delinquents and the student council president don't dare to mess with him.
And now he wants to be friends... with you? You scoffed. There wasn't anything for him to gain by being friends with you- normal family background, no other friends, and plain personality. You didn't stand out. You shouldn't.
Was it the answer you gave him when he asked for the reason behind all your antics? "It's just for fun. I like predicting people's scores and seeing if I was right," you simply said at the time, keeping the more important reason a secret. Did he find out?
"Whatcha thinking about?"
A yelp escaped your lips as your hand flew up to your chest in surprise. "You scared me,"
Speak of the devil. He leans forward from behind you as he replied, "I didn't think you'd be so preoccupied with whatever you were thinking about,” he replies simply, taking a step forward to face you. “So, what was it?"
You pondered for a moment before thinking 'fuck it' and asked, "Why are you acting so w- uh, friendly around me?"
He frowned, as if the answer was obvious. "...Because I want to be friends with you?"
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Friends with you?"
"As mentioned, yes."
"You're serious?"
"Quite so."
This was beyond anything you could've expected from him. Since when did he ever do friends?
You tried to control your expression but failed miserably as he smiled, sending goosebumps down your arm. "I've seen the look in your eyes when you look at the scoreboard. And I've never met anyone crazy enough to manipulate their own score just to remain 5th- or anyone smart enough to actually pull it off,"
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Wha-"
"I've always wanted a friend."
His statement confused you even more. He was one of the most popular students in the entire school- heck, the entire town- what is he blabbering on about? "You're surrounded by people. There's always a group following you around in school," you scoffed.
His expression soured. "Those people...they simply leech onto me because they want something from me. So, I want you to be my first friend. A real one." As he spoke, the smile on his face grew, his excitement practically radiating off him in waves.
Although your mind was screaming no, his explanation tugged at your heartstrings. You’ve definitely heard people from his group of lackeys say some horrible things about him. So you could understand where he was coming from, sort of.
————————————————————
He was delighted when you finally relented and became his friend. He wouldn’t mess this up. He’ll show you how beneficial it is to be with him, on his side.
Despite you still having your guard up, he gradually proved to you just how useful being friends with him was. All your problems were solved so quickly— that one classmate that used to bother you, the teachers who gave you a hard time, and anyone who stood in your way were all dealt with or quickly got the message after seeing you hanging out with your new friend more. When you asked him what he did to get them to back off, he merely shrugged and said “Nothing illegal. And they’re alive and kicking, so don’t worry about it.” You knew that was a sign to stop prying.
A few weeks pass and things settle down, and the both of you mostly spend time playing all kinds of board games, strategy games and logic puzzles. He insists that you're the only person he can play against without holding back, so more often than not, your lunch breaks are spent with him, competing against him while munching on whatever food you brought that day. If you were being completely honest, it was fun to finally meet someone who could match your love for brain games and keep up with you.
Sometimes he’d even go to you to talk about his troubles. With his father planning to pass his company to him eventually, various ploys have been put against him to change that. Competitors hiring people to stalk his every move, people threatening him or trying to exploit him. He’d tell you his plan on how to bring down his enemies and sometimes you’d help refine them. Or reel him back. “He’s prideful, so you can use that against her,” or “No, don’t do that, your classmates would be terrified of you.” or even a, “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” What would he do without you?
Emotions were always the hardest part of the equation for him, but with you, everything is much easier. In the past, he studied and analysed the different emotions people can express and feel during various situations. Based on their facial expressions and body language, he could deduce what a person was feeling. Smiling meant happiness, crying meant sadness. That’s all it was—keen observation and logical deduction. Not that he could ever understand the meaning or reason behind such emotions, but he still managed just fine. Nobody noticed. Except you. You had quickly called him out on his biggest flaw just after a few conversations with him, and after listening to a sappy childhood backstory, you had taken it upon yourself to explain the nuances in emotional expression and feelings whenever the opportunity arose.
As the months go by, more and more of your time was spent with him. He even managed to get you transferred to his class. Say hi to your new desk mate! Naturally you only talk to him in your new class, seeing how you barely know anyone else. Even his usual lackeys and followers have started to keep their distance from the two of you. You don’t need to bother with them. Just focus on him. He’s the only one good for you.
If you ever decide to distance yourself from him, he’ll take advantage of your biggest weakness. Your emotions. Just like how emotions are his weakness too. But unlike him, you’re too soft, too weak-hearted and kind. All he needs to do is act depressed, skip a few days of school, barely eat. Naturally, his parents would freak out and call you, his best (and only) friend. And like the good samaritan you are, you’ll come running to him with a panicked look on your face. The guilt would eat away at your resolve to leave him and you’d be chained to him forever. Of course, he wouldn't do any of that as long as you continue being on his side. Being his.
————————————————————
You weren't so dense as not to realise his manipulation and schemes to isolate you in school these past weeks. Transferring you to his class, becoming your desk mate, all of it was just getting too obvious. You let out a sigh as you lay on the bed. How did things turn out like this? In the first place, your actual motive behind maintaining 5th was to not catch his attention, to fly under the radar. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you chastise yourself for obsessing over 5th place when you should've added some variation into your previous rankings. Then again, who's to say that he wouldn't have found out even if you did add in variations?
Another sigh escaped your lips as you massaged the bridge of your nose. At least he doesn't know the real reason to this whole mess. You couldn’t really call it a ‘fear’. It was more like a gut feeling, a warning alarm in the back of your mind. The complete disregard for other people and their emotions, the crazy look in his eyes when he fixes on a new target, and his sheer intellect to manipulate people/outcomes as he desires. You're smart enough to be on par with him when it comes to board games and logic puzzles but beyond that? He was a force to be reckoned with. Thankfully, you were on his good side. For now.
...Maybe it's time to think of a plan to slowly back away from him.
a/n: i told myself i'd never write a part 2, turns out im a big fat liar
part 1 can be found here.
Distancing yourself from the top student was harder than you thought. His not so subtle obsession with you didn’t waver no matter what you tried. You couldn’t even figure out why he was so attached to you. You didn’t do anything to give him the wrong idea— you never initiated anything, always rejected any offer to hang out after school or during the weekends and refused to accept any of the gifts he’d try to give you. And yet, everything was just as it was before.
Avoiding him did nothing, seeing how the other students would just report back to him about your whereabouts and he’d easily find you (did he bribe them??). He merely shrugged when you suddenly refused to play any of the usual board games and logic puzzles with him during lunch, so that was a bust too. Not talking to him didn’t work either, seeing how he had no issue going through his day just observing you in silence, waiting for when you had the mood to talk again.
You tossed around in bed as you brainstormed for more ideas to get yourself out of this situation before the sound of your doorbell startled you.
Knowing that everyone in the house was sound asleep, you stumbled out of your room and opened the front door. A familiar silhouette greeted you, hunched over and leaning on the doorframe.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
“I didn’t know where else to go.” He explained before you could even ask what was going on.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Opening the door wider, you finally understood what he meant. Blood trickled down from the cut on his forehead, forcing one eye shut. His breathing was laboured and his hand remained clutched to his side.
“What the-?” You exclaimed, instinctively reaching out to help him, struggling to support his weight. “The hospital seems like an obvious choice.” You whispered, not hiding the snark in your voice.
He chuckled weakly as you guided him to the couch. “And let them call my parents to freak out about this? No way.”
He groaned as he leaned back against the couch, trying to make himself comfortable. "Knowing them, they’d rush right back just to fuss over me if they knew I went to the hospital.”
You made your way back, having found the first aid kit. “Fair enough, I guess. So, who’d you piss off this time?”
“No idea. Some strangers came up to me and started a conversation, asking me all these weird questions and next thing I knew they were all angry at me for some reason.” He sighed, shaking his head.
Your heart felt heavy. You’ve known since the beginning of your “friendship” that he always had trouble with understanding other people’s emotions, the only weakness he ever had. It wasn’t hard to reach the conclusion that he'd likely said something insensitive to anger those people without noticing it himself, leading to a fight.
“C’mere,” your voice softer around the edges now, despite yourself. You sat on the coffee table in front of him, a cotton swab and some disinfectant in hand. “This might sting a little.”
This was the first time you've ever seen him so vulnerable. The perfect student, the top scorer, the heir to one of the largest companies in the country— beaten down and brusied.
"Lift up your shirt, let me see how bad it is."
His eyes shone with amusement as he complied with your demand, revealing splotches of red and purple along his stomach and sides. The bruising didn't look too bad, and his breathing was fine which probably meant nothing was broken.
You reached a hand out, pressing down slightly on the bruise. He inhaled sharply and you immediately retracted your hand. "Sorry, did I press too hard?"
He quickly shook his head, wrapping his hand around your wrist. "You just caught me by surprise, that's all. You can keep going."
"It's fine, I was done checking anyway. Nothing's broken so that's good." You tugged your hand away to pass some ointment to him. "Use this, it'll help it heal faster. I'm going to change then I'll send you home."
-------
"Come on in, it's cold out." Before you could refuse and get back into the taxi to go home, he guided you through the entrance of his apartment building. Already, you knew this was a fancy place. Marble floors, high ceilings and glass chandeliers, you felt out of place in your simple hoodie and jeans.
You rubbed the back of your neck. "Hey, I really think I should just-"
"It's way too late for you to go home by yourself. Just stay the night."
"But your parents..." You tried to reason.
"Don't live here." He replied, completing your sentence. "They stay in the main house, further away from here. They got me this place since it's closer to school."
You nodded calmly, hiding your disbelief. It was jarring to be reminded just how rich your friend is.
He brings you to the private elevator and you're soon greeted by the sight of his penthouse. You watch him as he walks to the kitchen counter to pour two glasses of water. Even without your help, he seemed much better than before.
"Does it hurt lesser now?" You ask, slightly confused by the sudden change.
He emptied the glass before finally answering. "Nope. Hurts just as much as before." A smile blooms on his face. "I'm just excited you're staying over."
You laugh awkwardly. It was impossible to ignore the guilt creeping into your heart— you were trying so hard to avoid him, even when you knew he had no one else.
-----
"I wish it'd always be like this." His words broke the peaceful silence you shared, freshly showered and ready to crash on the couch. (He finally relented and let you sleep on the couch instead of sharing the bed with him.)
You looked down, where he sat on the floor with his head leaning on the side of your knee. “Like what?”
“Just me and you. The two of us.” Your gaze unconsciously shifted to the door. He continued, “Maybe we could move to a private island, build a nice house right by the sea and spend the rest of our lives there.“
You turned back to face him, only to find he was already looking at you with a smile. One that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No one to bother us, and nobody to take you away from me.”
Those words didn’t sound like a suggestion, it was a promise. Even if you refused, you were certain he would still get his way in the end.
-----
He'd be blind not to notice your little schemes; the weak excuses to get away, the pathetic attempts at making other friends in school. Not that he understood why, since he was certain that he hadn't done anything wrong.
It didn't bother him much, seeing how he had the entire school in the palm of his hand. Pull a few strings and the puppets will move accordingly. Reports on your whereabouts? Threatening everyone not approach you? Finding your address and paying off some delinquents to rough him up a little? Too easy.
Of course the kindness in your heart would never let you leave him alone. Pity, guilt or obligation— it didn't matter to him, as long as it binded you to him.
"I don't know how I'd live without you," he whispered, head bowed and gaze averted. It was easier to act pitiful if you couldn't see his face. "You're the only one that understands me, who understands my emotions, even before i do. Everyone else treats me like I'm some kind of monster."
