the worst part of shin jihoo’s week was 4 pm on wednesdays when he has his tutoring session with grandpa haesoo hyung in the library. unlike class, jihoo couldn’t sleep or instagram his way through this-- he actually had to pay attention to the meticulous cheong ryong. which, consequently meant actually learning things as they sat there with his biology book opened, pen tapping on notebook as jihoo stared blankly at the pages and haesoo went on about prokaryotic cells or something.
“hyung” he interrupts the riveting lesson, twisting his body to face the older boy, head lazily propped on his hand. “there’s bulgogi in the caf tonight, should we go before it’s gone?” he asks with a small smile and a suggestive eyebrow raise, the hope of escaping this lesson practically dancing in his eyes. he can’t believe his only hope for sweet release is barbecued meat.
the shrill cry of shin jihoo reverberates in the main quad, scaring off a flock of crows as they take flight in the distance. it’s not a particularly chilly september day (twenty-five degrees were the suspected high) but jihoo still sits on the wooden bench with a burberry scarf and trench coat over his school blazer to complete his “fall” look. over-sized sunglasses shield his eyes, but they can’t shield bae woosun from the daggers his furrowed brows are throwing at the younger boy.
“아니..” shin jihoo takes another sip of the iced americano that had been brought to him before first period, lips pursing in a grimace as he bitterly shakes his head at the taste. “can you count? are you defective?” he looks up at the boy and outstretches one gangly arm to thrust the coffee in his line of vision. “i specifically said six honeys, it’s the same thing every week, woosun-ah.” he shakes his head as he leans back against the bench again, crossing one spidery leg over the other.
i mean, really. how hard was it to get him his morning coffee-- or pick up his dry cleaning or write out and organize his class notes? bae woosun should be grateful that jihoo was in a particularly giving mood this morning (he should be happy he hadn’t spilled the drink all over his last season’s new balances). he leans against his hand dramatically, fingers over his temples with a sigh.
“how do you expect to make it into cheong ryong?”
(really, shin jihoo was the least qualified person to tell anyone anything, and yet he’d spent his entire life bossing around a gaggle of staff and everyone around him. sucks for you, bae woosun).
“I would still like to give you a chance to raise your participation mark, but I’m worried you might mistake it for something ridiculous, like a cushion foundation.”
there were a few things sunhwa had taught him-- the real world had it’s own set of vocabulary; jargon. for instance, the “maids” were the janitors who wiped up vomit between second and third period. the “chef” was not world renowned, but a bunch of kitchen ahjummas who made mediocre kimchi at best. and teachers, well, they were kind of like nannies, weren’t they? and if it’s one thing shin jihoo knows, its how to make or break the nannies (he has a long résumé of nannies come and gone to back him up).
it’s all about vernacular: bending and twisting your words to get the desired effect, i.e: how to tell someone where they stood without so-called “offending” them-- jihoo was still new to the practice. he’d never gotten in any real trouble for his tongue, just a light slap on the wrist (hypothetical, of course), and a renovation in the east quad from SET group to placate the vice principal. but jihoo didn’t always leave it to his father, he knew how to appease the right people-- the lingo.
“ah, saem” he juts his bottom lip in a pout, shoulders swaying from side-to-side in perfectly practiced aegyo as he makes his way beside her seated at the desk, lightly poking her arm with his notebook. his braces are practically glowing in a crafted smile. “why not just look past the whole flower-pot-face-mist fandango? hmm? i mean, the instructions were not clear, in my defense.”
translation: there was no way in hell he was doing any menial labour for measly participation points.
Send “✆” for a MORNING text.
Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.
Send “☎” for a RUSHED text.
Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.
Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text.
Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.
Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text.
Send “#” for a RANDOM text.
Send “@” for a SCARED text.
Send “&” for a LOVING text.
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.
Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.
“jihoooooo,” he says, whining and writhing around on the mess of papers on his bed. “everything is so hard. can we just, like…” sooil scrunches up his nose, thinking. “retire? can i go into retirement?”
the moment he realized he would have to be sharing a room first day of school last year, shin jihoo had practically clawed at secretary kim’s arm, pulling his entire body weight as the man tried to escape back into the town car.
“i’m not sharing! no! no! no! take me back, secretary kim, 어? 제발 ”
his efforts proved futile, however, as the treacherous secretary kim drove away into the sunset and shin jihoo was left sulking on his louis vuitton suitcase. he didn’t share things (not easily, anyhow) and so when he’d walked into the room and saw nam sooil standing in the middle with his stupid sweet smile, shin jihoo was livid. the universe was a cruel mistress playing an awful joke on him, it seemed. for he had to share a room with the one boy he couldn’t stand-- the boy he was also ironically “sharing” suh’s affection with (more like, vying for her attention, but that’s beside the point). he guessed he should’ve felt lucky that at least he wasn’t sharing with some stranger-- the two have been friends since middle school (read: the term “friends” is used very loosely here, okay? they run in the same circle and shin jihoo once shared gave his turkey sandwich to him but that was out of pity and definitely not because he liked nam sooil or anything). shin jihoo made sure to draw the line that day-- quite literally, pointing to the center of the room and splitting it in half. but, like everything else, he’d broken his rule and crossed the line to his own demise.
that unsavory fate being that jihoo had actually grown accustomed to his noise-making ass. he knows that when the other gets into it, that’s his cue to put his beats over his head and not disrupt the creative process. has having a roommate made shin jihoo a considerate human being?? barely. (it’s only the small exceptions; he still leaves a mess on the floor because he fails to grasp the fact that there are no maids at sunhwa-- he’s in denial).
“jihoooooo”
maybe if he doesn’t move he’ll stop talking to him-- jihoo had his headphones over his ears but he hadn’t been listening to anything (only pretending so he could listen in to nam’s latest beat). it takes him a moment before he finally gives in to curiosity and slides his headphones down around his neck, creasing the page in his magazine on his lap. “how can you retire if you haven’t done anything” he scoffs, “--and those mix-tapes don’t count” he chides teasingly with a smirk, flipping the pages of GQ as he directs his gaze back down to his lap.
his sister would probably say otherwise-- “more like the shrill cry of a dying cat”-- and it seemed that son seonsaengnim agreed, when she’d given him a big fat below average mark for his singing evaluation. it was then when jihoo realized that son saem was probably tone death and therefore shouldn’t even be teaching a music class (unreliable grading scale. 0/10 would not recommend) and what prompted him to spend the rest of the term sitting in the back napping or instagram-ing.
so when the sham of a teacher calls him up after class, ji hoo stand in front of her, blinking in confusion. what fucking plants??? he scrunches his brows, staring at her for a moment before he remembers the week before when she had placed a spray bottle in front of him (and he had looked at it with the same look of confusion he had right now).
“oh!” he puts two-and-two together, and almost resists the urge to laugh. that was for the plants? he thought...
“i thought that was face mist! i was like, super confused, saem. because clearly i have flawless skin and your poor-man’s face mist, is-- no offense-- too cheap to put on this complexion.” he rambles with a toothy grin, braces glinting. “i’m glad it’s for the p..lants..” his voice falters as he looks down at the wilting succulent on her desk. he laughs nervously, looking at son saem with an innocent expression.
“…I don’t like you.” As if he hadn’t already made it obvious with each barbed response thrown their way for over a year. “–and if we both fail this class because of you, I’ll kick your ass myself, trust fund.”
there are exactly three Most Devastating moments in shin jihoo’s life.
the first, was when his mom died just last year when dr. park told him he’d have to get wire braces instead of invisalign. he spent a week in his room, not eating any of the food the maids brought up and blasting leslie cheung’s a better tomorrow. he doesn’t know a lick of cantonese but he spent his childhood watching hong kong gangster movies with his mum (he’d pretend to be chow yun fat and make jinjoo the ugly, fat villain). he lost weight from his incessant protest to eat, though, so it wasn’t all bad.
the second, being slated for initiation. obviously.
and the third Most Devastating moment in shin jihoo’s life was the moment ssaem uttered those dreadful words, two minutes ago. he’s left at a standstill, confusedly blinking at the teacher before the words actually register, and then he’s slamming the textbook he had been “reading” onto the table, giving away the copy of vogue he’d hidden between the pages. his gaze fixes incredulously on the other boy, tongue-in-cheek. he couldn’t believe that he, shin jihoo a practical prince of a boy, had been partnered up with this pleb.
his lips snarl in contempt despite himself as they switch seats to start on the assignment, looking around the room desperately for an escape-- no, no, no he was not being partnered up with someone who was wearing the fugliest shoes he’s ever laid eyes on. he’s about to stand up in protest, but ssaem dashes out of homeroom and jihoo is left hanging in his own despair, hand outstretched towards the door.
망했다 ㅠㅠ
arms crossed defiantly over his chest, he rolls his eyes as won-chul or whatever the fuck his name was sits beside him, side-eyeing him with disdain. it isn’t until won-chul speaks first does he actually look at him-- but his freckled cheeks have turned red and his nostrils are flaring.
“first of all, the feeling is mutual.” shin jihoo has far too much pride to admit that the fact that this plebeian doesn’t like him left him confused. why didn’t he like him??? was he defective?? (he’s also mad he wasn’t the first to say those words). “second of all... ew” he points his chin with a frown towards the other’s shoes. someone had to tell the poor soul he was a walking faux pas-- shin jihoo was a benevolent prince, after all it was for the good of sunhwa. won-chul should thank him, to be honest. he leans forward, arms still crossed over his chest.
“i think we both know how this is going to end so why don’t you skip the part where you’re a little bitch and just get to work on the assignment... if you know what’s good for you scholarship.” his braces snarl at the other, his tone dreadfully low, before pulling back and crescent lids dancing in a sickeningly sweet smile. “you’re like smart, or whatever, right scholarship? fighting!” what? he needs an A in this class. he directs his attention back to his magazine, tapping his prada oxfords contently; oblivious.
○ shin jinjoo is literally jihoo’s other half-- it’s like they’re two halves of the same person or some freaky shit like that.
○ these two are either seen a) attached at the hip or b) fighting to the death there is no inbetween
○ but don’t let them kicking and screaming at each other fool you these two are actually super close a.k.a if you mess with jinjoo, jihoo will kill you (or throw a textbook at ur head same thing).
○ he’s three minutes older so obvs he is #oppa af.
○ i imagine jinjoo to be on the more ditzy side, but she still has the propensity to be just as bitchy as jihoo, if not more-- these two really know how to push buttons, especially with each other (this is how the scratching and biting starts)
○ due to her lack of legacy status for baek ho (their mother is the late kim jihyun, hallyu star who came from a poor background, so she didn’t attend sunhwa-- real rags to riches story), and the fact that like her brother, school just isn’t her ~thing, she didn’t even get an invite.
○ needless to say she’s #salty.
○ partners in crime: jinjoo has helped jihoo with his ~master plan to break up papa shin with every girlfriend he’s ever had since their mom died. so far, they’ve been successful. but somewhere within their first year away at sunhwa, girlfriend no. 7 turned into the new fiancee to the CEO of set group... her and her last season miu mius have got. to. go.
○ pls take her so the twin terrors can reign over the peasants with their superior sense of fashion and #judging you stares
○ them:
○ i’ve got two options for jinjoo’s face (pictured above). kim minjung (left) + lee cheyoung (right)
hey y’all it’s britney tae bitch™ back with another weenie to add joy to ur lives-- or just another headache.
› if you don’t know shin jihoo mclovin voice: read a book for once but just to ~jog your memory he’s first in line to inherit SET GROUP and he’s the son of the late kim jihyun (hallyu goddess who’s life ended shortly from a “routine liposuction”, but anyways)
› first half of the shin twins™ that walk around the hallways with their pouty pissbaby faces and are most-likely-judging-you and/or your outfit.
› gemini bbe
› walks into class 15 minutes late with starbucks (iced americano with six honeys because he’s a literal child who can’t handle black coffee but he needs to ~appear chic~)
› spoiled brat extraordinaire but can you blame him? all he knows is papa shin’s unlimited credit card. literally fave past time is walking into stores knowing he pre much owns them (like bruce wayne except shin jihoo would never sweat for anyone)
› budding fashion icon™ he’s actually pretty artistic, but only his twin sister knows this side of him (he makes her pose for hours on end-- really he doesn’t need her to he’s just messing with her and texting instead). he’s been a self proclaimed style icon since middle school when he trademarked the burberry bucket hat and those kurt cobaine sunglasses gd wears nowadays (hipster voice i did it before it was cool). front row to every fashion week.
› tried to act cool in front of karl lagerfeld once. fanboy’d & almost spilled champagne on choupette (karl’s cat).
› #instagram heux #selca king
› secretly knows most popular girl group dances (his sister makes him practice w her)
› loves sageuk dramas (be sitting with his amorepacific face mask on and popcorn)
› only on student council because he thought it would be easy (jihoo voice: aren’t i just a figure head? like the queen?)
› “stay in your lane, bougie bitch” - shin jihoo 2016
› legacy that was slated for initiation (and was royally pissed off about it) but he’s a #survivor, o k. it also helps that he’s naturally fake with almost everyone (he does get penalized for the sass, tho)
› people he’s not fake with: the jr plastics squad. they all been thru his tantrums 2gther why are y’all still friends with him rip
› in love w/ suh since he was 12 (it’s deep, yo. he spends second period day dreaming about their future in where he is a world renowned fashion designer and they have little shin-suh bbes running around their amorepacific empire... it’s gross, i know)
› i’m so sorry u had 2 go thru this. i’ll be writing up his full profile/ plot page soon but if you wanna plot go ahead and like this post or hmu on IM i lvoe u all ur fab xoxo
pixelskylines
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
gummygunk
