Kian’s POV

When lunchtime finally arrived on our first day of college, I turned to Sun and asked if he wanted to head down to the canteen with me. He gave a simple, warm nod, and we made our way to the cafeteria together.

As soon as we walked inside, my heart sank.

There, sitting together at a prominent table, was the exact same group of guys I had run into in the parking lot earlier. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending not to see them, and focused on getting our lunch from the cafeteria counter.

Tray in hand, I turned around to head back to our table.

BANG!

A sharp, sudden pain shot through my body as I stumbled hard, crashing onto the floor right in front of everyone. The food spilled everywhere with a loud, clattering noise, splashing across the tile and all over my clothes.

Through the throbbing pain, I glanced back and saw one of the boys from that group—he had deliberately stuck his leg out in my path to trip me.

Here we go...

What did I ever do to anyone? Why do people love to bully me so much? My life was already so complicated. I had really hoped that here, at least, I could make a good friend and just study in peace. But it seemed like even that was too much to ask.

I tried to push myself up off the ground, but a sharp sting burned through my palm. A broken ceramic plate lying beside me had sliced right into my skin.

My eyes stung with tears of frustration and pain. Everyone in the canteen was staring, giggling, and whispering. I looked over at Sun, who looked terrified for me, but he quickly stood up and started rushing over to help.

Before Sun could reach me, a shadow fell over the floor.

It was the same handsome senior—the one who had given me directions to my classroom earlier. Without a single word of warning, he stepped forward and delivered a harsh, echoing SLAP across the face of the boy who had tripped me.

The entire canteen went dead silent.

Why did he do that?! My head was spinning. Whatever the reason, I need to get out of here before this turns into an even bigger scene!

I scrambled up on my own, ignoring the burning cut on my hand. Sun rushed to my side, his voice trembling. "Come on, let's go to the washroom so you can clean yourself up."

"Wait here," I whispered to Sun, my voice shaking. "I'll go clean up myself."

Before he could respond, I turned and ran straight toward the nearest washroom.

Thank God, no one was inside.

I hurried over to the sink and started scrubbing the spilled food off my clothes, before gently rinsing the bleeding cut on my palm. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over my cheeks. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, quickly wiping the tears away.

It hurt so bad. Even though I was a guy, I had always been soft-hearted from the start. I hated fighting, and I could never bring myself to talk back to people. Every time people looked at my face, they automatically assumed I was a weak, filthy Omega—someone who existed only to use a pretty face to attract Alphas and give them pleasure, like I was nothing more than a toy.

It hurt deeply, but I knew I had to be strong. I had to stay strong for my mom. She was all I had, and the last thing I wanted was to make her worry about me.

Suddenly, the washroom door swung open.

My heart dropped. It was him again.

Why did I keep running into this same guy over and over again in a single day?

I need to get out of here right now, I thought, hastily splashing cold water onto my face and dabbing my eyes dry. He had probably seen me crying, but whatever—I just needed to stay far, far away from these rich Alphas.

I tried to hurry past him toward the exit, but the moment I reached his side, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me firmly against him.

Here we go again...

No matter how hard I tried to stay away from trouble, it always found a way to drag me back in. Was it really just because of my face? Why did everyone constantly feel the need to insult and push me around?

His dark eyes locked onto mine as he held me close. "Get your wound treated at the college infirmary," he said, his voice low and firm. "You can get a fresh set of clothes there, too. The college keeps extras for emergencies."

"It's fine... I'm okay," I stammered, pulling back to leave.

Instead of letting go, he pulled me back toward him, staring directly into my eyes. His physical strength was overwhelming, making it impossible to break free.

Can't you just mind your own business and let me do mine? I screamed inwardly.

Then, he leaned in closer, and his next words sent a violent chill down my entire spine—

In a bone-chillingly cold voice, he leaned in and spoke each word deliberately. "When I tell someone to do something, they do it without resistance. You said no to me this time... but next time, don't even try it."

My heart pounded against my ribs. Who does this guy think he is?!

My ruinous clothes and my injured hand were my problems. Why on earth did I have to listen to his orders? Still, what choice did I really have?

I'll just get out of here and head straight back to class, I thought nervously. Whether I go to the infirmary or not, it's not like he's going to follow me to check, right? I am definitely not going to the infirmary just to run into more trouble.

I simply gave him a quick, obedient nod just to escape, before breaking away and heading straight back to the classroom.

When I walked through the door, the teacher took one look at my dirtied, damp clothes and paused the lecture. "Did you fall into the washroom or something? Your outfit is filthy. Go change—there should be extra clothes available at the department office."

I bit my lip and nodded meekly. How could I say no to a teacher?

Stepping back out into the hallway, I let out a long, heavy sigh. It seemed like my very first day at college wasn't going to be peaceful at all—it was turning into a complete and total disaster.

I walked toward the college management office, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Why is he everywhere?!

The same senior was standing right there inside the office. Oh god, what am I going to do now? I hadn't listened to him earlier, and now I was completely done for. Was he going to punch me right in the face? Or even worse—beat me up until my legs were broken?

Please, no! Please, no... I don't want that!

Panic washed over me, but I knew if I went back to class in these dirty clothes, the teacher would be furious. I just had to face whatever was coming. Even though I hadn't done anything wrong, I decided I would just apologize.

I took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and stepped inside.

He turned and looked at me, along with a few other students standing nearby. A smirk played on his lips. "Ha. So you still didn't go to the infirmary, huh? Your wound hasn't been treated yet."

"I... I just came to borrow a change of clothes," I stammered weakly.

"Come with me," he said firmly.

Before I could object, he grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the office and down the hallway. I had no idea where he was taking me. Was he really taking me somewhere quiet to beat me up?

Oh no, please, please...

He pulled me inside a room—the college infirmary—and stopped. Suddenly, he reached his hand out toward my face.

Terrified that he was about to slap me, I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted out the first thing that came to my head: "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for not listening to your warning! The cut didn't feel that bad, so I just wanted to go back to class... but I should have listened to you! I'm really sorry! Next time I'll definitely listen to whatever you say!"

I squeezed my eyes tighter, bracing for impact.

Instead of a blow, a sudden, sharp sting hit the back of my palm.

"Ahhh!" I opened my eyes.

He wasn't hitting me at all. He was carefully dabbing medicine onto my bleeding cut.

Wait... he wasn't angry? He's actually... kind?

"Ouch..." I winced as the antiseptic stung my raw skin.

"You better listen to whatever I say from now on," he warned softly, his eyes fixed on my wound. "I don't go easy on anyone... but I'll let it slide today."

I simply nodded, biting my lower lip to keep from making a sound as the sting burned through my hand.