"Why do we have to make uniforms again this semester? I'm so tired!" Van's exasperated complaint made the person standing next to him burst into laughter.

 

"Hey, you! You're studying fashion, aren't you? You're such an idiot. If you're not making clothes, what the hell are you going to do? Sing?" Jinn shook his head in exasperation. He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pants pocket, handed his friend one and kept one for himself.

 

"I'm so tired! My brain's completely blank. Quitting is the answer. Who the hell made me study this subject?!"

 

"You came here yourself, huh? You said you wanted to flirt with a fashionable, chic girl, and now you're happy, aren't you? Haha." A puff of grey smoke escaped the handsome lips of the person who had intended to study this subject from the start, a desire born from seeing his mother so infatuated with it that she was completely smitten.

 

"Damn it, what's with all the flirting? Each of them seems like they were born to be my mother, not my wife," Van shook his head, rubbing his arm as goosebumps arose from thinking about his female classmates. He wasn't even embarrassed to call them "mothers," let me tell you that!

 

"That's utter nonsense. You're so naive. Serves you right," Jinn said mockingly to his friend, without a hint of sympathy.

 

Van and I weren't friends since high school; we only met and became friends in university. Because there weren't many guys in our major, we got to talk more often. Over time, our similar personalities and interests led us to become close friends. I can speak to other friends, but if you're talking about truly close friends, Van is the only one (specifically in our major). Even though I don't want to admit it, the only old friend who followed me to university here is that idiot Jerome.

 

The person who has always been competitive with him, there's no way he wouldn't follow. Jinn knew this from the moment he applied that Jerome would definitely be among his classmates. True revenge!

 

Jinn's mother, "Chan," is a designer and owner of 'THE J.ROOM,' a fairly well-known clothing store. Her unique designs have led almost every customer to become a repeat customer. The young man arrives home with drawing papers scattered (or thrown) all over the house, scraps of fabric, mannequins, pencils, and the sound of a sewing machine—a familiar sight to him. While not as passionate about it as his mother, he certainly enjoys it.

 

Jinn wants to carry on his mother's passion because he's her only child. She's a single mother, and raising a son to this age wasn't easy. While he can't say he's perfect, Jinn is confident he's a very good son.

 

"Jinn! I knew you'd be here!" The loud shout made the person who had just finished smoking turn around in confusion. Slender fingers tossed the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped on it until it was completely extinguished. Then, they bent down to pick up the remnants and throw them into the trash can.

 

"Hey, Mai, what are you doing around here?"

 

"I messaged you, and you didn't reply. Wow, Van, your hair colour is consistently amazing. Fashionistas are fashionistas. You're no match for him, Jinn." Mai looked at Van's hair colour, admiringly. Last month it was green, this month it's orange. Okay, I give up.

 

"I didn't see the notification. Ugh, just let me lose. If I dyed my hair like his, my mom would have a hard time finding clothes that match. I feel sorry for her." The guy whose mom always made clothes for him burst out laughing. It wasn't that Van's hair colour wasn't pretty; it was gorgeous, and it wasn't as hard to find matching clothes as he said it was. Jinn just didn't want to give that idiot a chance to come up with some insults about him.

 

Jinn once dyed his hair a super cool red that made him look incredibly handsome, but Jerome kept calling him "blood-headed," "red-haired," or "traffic light head" because at that time, Van had dyed his hair green... so when they walked together, they stood out just as Jinn wanted. So he switched to a new hair colour that even he doesn't know what to call now. It's brown, but not entirely brown; it has a touch of blue at the ends, adding a unique touch. Jerome never called him that anymore. He probably doesn't know what to call it either, because even he, the one who did it, doesn't know! He just knows it's beautiful, totally his style!

 

"So why did you text me?"

 

"Well, P'Tar is opening a race track, so he came to ask if we wanted to be the inaugural race. It's just us today, no one else. He wants to have a party," Mai dragged his friends out from beside the restrooms, and they stopped in front of a building that was now full of people.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Who's going? Do you want to go, Van? It's fun," Jinn turned to ask his friend standing next to him.

 

"Ugh, not today. I have to go to my uncle's and mom's house," Van said dejectedly. Just hearing that, you could tell it was going to be a lot of fun. It's a shame he's busy.

 

"Okay, no problem. I'll take you again another time," Jinn patted his friend's shoulder sympathetically, noticing his sad expression.

 

“Hey, don’t be sad, Van. You’ll get to go again soon, don’t worry. There’ll be Tar, Nin, and… Jay!” Mai rattled off the names of his friends before looking up and seeing a familiar face. He shouted again, just like he had called out to Jinn earlier.

 

"Jinn rolled his eyes at the sky in exasperation. They were just talking, but as soon as he saw that jerk, he ran towards him. He'd made his decision. He would block Mai forever. Goodbye, old friend."

 

"What? What are you doing around here?" Jerome stopped not far from his eternal rival. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jinn rolling his eyes at the sky. He wanted to kick him to the ground. It was so irritating!

 

"I came to ask you guys if you want to go to P'Tar’s field. He's opening it up specially for friends today," Mai advertised enthusiastically, as if he'd make money if he could get a lot of people to come. In reality, the young man just wanted to hang out with friends he hadn't seen in a while.

 

"I was thinking the same thing. Hey Jinn, are you going?"

 

"What the hell does that have to do with you? Why are our feet connected?" Jinn retorted sarcastically, pushing his tongue against his cheek.

 

“Well, if you go, we can borrow P'Tar's field, huh? Interested? Let's race.” Jerome stepped closer to the person picking at his ear with his little finger, his demeanour irritating, and looked at him with utter annoyance. The faint scent of nicotine carried on the wind told the young man that Jinn had probably smoked again, as usual. It smelled so bad that he frowned.

 

"That's interesting," Jinn said, playfully blowing air hard in Jerome's face. Seeing him recoil with an expression of utter disgust, Jinn felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Your breath smells really bad."

 

"Oh, you can't even handle this, you health-conscious kid? Tch, what do you get from winning anyway?" The person who was told they had bad breath pouted. So annoying, these gamers.

 

"Same as always?" the man, who was five centimetres taller, suggested, raising an eyebrow and smirking wickedly.

 

"Okay, fine. I'm not worried," Jinn said, not really scared. He was used to this kind of thing. If they didn't compete today, they'd compete another day. It was like a monthly routine, something like that.

 

"Same old story" means the winner can order the loser to do one thing within a week. They've always taken turns winning and losing, having been everything from lackey to boss, but they've never used it as a cheat in their normal lives. They've always competed fairly.

 

No matter how many times Jerome competed with him for a man, he always did it openly, never behind his back. It became a competition to find a winner. For some reason, the other man always seemed to know what kind of person Jinn liked, as if he had a special radar that detected it. Every time Jerome chose to pursue someone first, that person was always the type Jinn liked, even though Jinn knew full well that he didn't like that kind of person. Yet, he always chose the right one, miraculously.

 

They've fought and even punched each other back in high school. It's a bad thing to do, but the consequences are immediate. You don't have to wait until tomorrow; the pain is today, it's over today. They fought until they got three yellow cards from the school and their parents, forcing them to find new ways to make up for it that their parents wouldn't know about because there was no evidence on their faces.

 

People will always find ways to fight each other, as long as their families don't find out. Perseverance is the only thing that endures!

 

"Good, I'm feeling bored lately. I wish I had a servant to keep me company. Heh heh," Jerome chuckled softly, his expression appearing psychotic in the eyes of Jinn and the others.

 

"I wish those who say you're a good person, warm and not mean like me, could know your true nature, how awful you are, you lying bastard!" Jinn wanted to punch the other's annoying face until it turned purple. That could cheer him up.

 

"Oh no, these guys are at it again. I just wanted to socialise, not be a referee! This is giving me a headache!" Mai clutched his head in frustration. He shouldn't have done this. Even though he knew those two were crazy, he still went along with it. He probably needs to call the field's owner and tell them to prepare an area for those two mad dogs.

 

Damn it! Someone, please, can you make them stop fighting for just one day? I'm begging you!