The Classroom Before Summer Break
"Alright, class!" Mr. Lorkwell slammed a thick stack of papers onto his desk, instantly killing the last remaining hope in the room. "Just because summer break is starting doesn't mean you should abandon your studies! Life isn't all sun, beaches, and video games!"
A wave of silent groans spread across the room.
They were students of Astoria Zenith Academy, the most prestigious school in all of Asia… but right now, none of them acted prestigious at all.
Most were slumped over their desks, half-asleep, half-dead, and fully uninterested.
Everyone wanted to leave.
Except one boy who was somewhere else entirely.
Mike Sutherland sat near the window, his chin resting on his palm as he stared outside. The sunlight reflected softly in his blue eyes, but his expression was distant, calm, and completely unaffected by the noise behind him.
He looked… peaceful.
Or maybe lost.
Summer break, huh… Everyone's excited. I should be too, right? It's supposed to be fun. Parties, beaches, friends…
His eyes followed a bird gliding across the sky.
But I never really felt anything about it. Is that weird?
A tiny frown formed.
No… I'm just different. That's all.
"WHATSAPP MIKEY?!"
"—HAGH?!"
Mike jolted so hard he almost flew out of his seat. One hand slapped over his heart as he gasped dramatically.
"J-Justin! What the hell?!"
His voice cracked a little, cheeks turning faintly pink.
Leaning over Mike's desk with the most innocent smile on Earth was Justin Harper, Mike's best friend. Rich family, expensive watch, prestigious bloodline—
but absolutely zero resemblance to any of those things.
"Sorry, sorry," Justin laughed, scratching his cheek. "Didn't think you were that deep in your emo window-gazing moment."
"I wasn't—! And don't call it that!" Mike snapped, still holding his chest.
"It's summer, dude!" Justin practically vibrated with energy. "We should do something fun! Beach trip? Mountain hike? Jet ski? Skydiving? Frog hunting?! Something cool!"
Justin kept going, a machine gun of enthusiasm.
Mike stared at him for two seconds… then slowly turned back to the window.
Fun stuff, huh…
People around him always lit up when they spoke about vacations. Their eyes would sparkle like children seeing fireworks for the first time.
I don't feel that. I never did.
Justin was still listing ridiculous activities in the background.
I pretend I'm excited sometimes, since that's what people expect. But honestly… summer break just feels like time passing.
A soft sigh escaped him.
Maybe I'm broken?
He shook his head slightly.
No… just different.
His gaze drifted downward, faintly gloomy.
Sammy Interrupts
"MIKEYYYYY!! You topped the class AGAIN!"
"GAH—WHY ME?!"
Mike's entire soul jumped out of his body as Sammy, a loud, hyperactive classmate, appeared out of nowhere like a shouting ghost.
Mike clutched his desk this time, legs trembling dramatically.
"Are you TRYING to give me a heart attack?! Can everyone stop ambushing me today?!"
Sammy blinked. "Oops."
Justin burst out laughing. "Bro, you're like a scared kitten today."
"I am NOT—!" Mike started, but his voice cracked again, making Justin laugh harder.
Mike's face flushed a deep pink.
He buried his face in his arms.
"Can this day end already…"
Before Mike even realized what was happening, the noise around him shifted.
A shadow fell over his desk.
Then another.
And another.
He blinked and finally noticed—
He was surrounded.
Twelve teenagers had formed a loose circle around him, like he was some kind of rare Pokémon they accidentally encountered.
Seven boys.
Five girls.
All buzzing with energy.
"Okay, so we go to my family's villa first!" someone said.
"No way! My dad booked an island resort!"
"Let's go overseas!"
"We should go skiing—"
"It's Summer, genius."
The voices overlapped excitedly, each one louder than the last.
They were all rich kids from Astoria Zenith Academy, and their "vacation plans" sounded like a competition to see who could flex harder.
Mike took a breath.
Time to switch.
His eyes softened, his shoulders loosened, and a small, easy smile appeared on his face.
"Alright… time to get back to it," he muttered under his breath as he activated his extrovert persona.
He joined the conversation instantly, laughing, joking, giving clever comments at the perfect times.
Everyone accepted him naturally, like he'd always been the center of the group.
But inside, as he scanned their faces, another voice spoke.
It wasn't always like this, you know?
His eyes drifted slowly over the group.
People see this huge circle around me and think I'm popular or something… but that's not really the truth.
My first year? Honestly, it was peaceful.
No friends. No expectations. No noise.
I didn't have anyone… but I wasn't lonely.
I was okay.
He remembered sitting alone during lunch breaks, reading, thinking, just… existing.
Then teachers started asking questions.
"Are you adjusting well, Michael?"
"Why don't you talk to other students?"
My parents got worried too.
"Is everything alright at school?"
"Are you being bullied?"
Mike exhaled softly through his nose.
The attention was suffocating.
So… I adapted.
I studied people. I learned how to blend in. How to act like someone they'd like.
His outward smile never cracked.
That's how all of this happened…
The chatter suddenly softened.
Two girls approached from the hallway—
Sara Anders and her best friend Mira Hale.
Their arrival completed the circle.
Fourteen teens total.
Seven boys.
Seven girls.
Balanced.
Perfect.
Lively.
But for Mike, the moment Sara stepped into the room—
Everything else went silent.
His eyes snapped toward her automatically.
Not even a blink.
Her brown hair shimmered under the overhead lights.
Her golden eyes scanned the group, warm but cautious.
Her expression—carefully controlled and gentle—pulled him in without effort.
She walked past him, close enough for a faint breeze to brush against his sleeve.
And Mike…
Mike forgot to breathe.
Or think.
Or exist.
His mind went completely blank.
She smiled politely at the others, joining the circle with practiced grace.
Mike continued staring—frozen, mesmerized, hopelessly captivated.
A smirk slowly crept onto Justin's face.
"Oh-ho…? Mikeyyyy…" Justin leaned dangerously close to Mike's ear. "Didn't know you were into OBSERVATIONAL STUDIES today."
Mike flinched so hard he nearly toppled his chair.
"W-WHAT?! I—NO—IT'S NOT— I WASN'T— STOP TALKING!!"
His voice cracked three times in a row.
His ears turned bright red.
He waved his hands frantically like he was swatting invisible bees.
Justin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.
"Bro, you were staring like you found a rare treasure chest!"
"I-I WASN'T STARING—!!" Mike insisted, eyes darting everywhere except toward Sara.
Across the circle, Mira nudged Sara gently.
Sara's golden eyes flicked toward Mike for a split second.
And she—
softly blushed.
Just barely.
A faint pink at the edges of her cheeks.
But enough to warm something in Mike's chest he didn't know was cold.
He didn't notice, though.
He was too busy panicking in place.
Justin slammed his palms on the desk like he'd just discovered fire.
"An island! Let's spend summer on an island my family just bought!"
Half the group immediately erupted.
"Bro, your family buys islands like my family buys bread!"
"Is there Wi-Fi though?"
"Forget Wi-Fi—are there ghosts? I am not dealing with ghosts again."
Mike, meanwhile, stood in the middle, tired smile on his face, feeling his energy slowly being siphoned away.
Why… why would anyone willingly leave air-conditioning? Why?
But he already knew the rule:
Having friends means doing things you naturally wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.
So he sighed, nodded, and said, "Sure… sounds fun."
Justin hugged him like he was a national treasure. "YES!! I knew you'd say yes! That's why we're best friends, Mikey!"
Mike's soul left his body for a moment.
As the chaos settled, Sara naturally gravitated toward Mike's side, playing with a loose strand of her brown hair—an unconscious tic she had when she wasn't being "Sara Anders™, calm queen of the school."
"Um… Mike? Are you… okay with going?" she asked softly.
Mike's heart did a double thump he prayed wasn't audible.
"Oh—uh—yeah. I mean, Justin already decided I'm going so… y'know… no escaping."
He smiled awkwardly.
Sara giggled. It was small, quiet—almost private.
"That sounds like Justin."
They didn't notice their friends staring at them, whispering with the subtlety of a toddler with a megaphone.
"He's finally doing it."
"Mikey's gonna confess!"
"I give it three minutes before he faints headfirst."
Mike didn't hear any of that.
But Sara did.
Her cheeks turned a soft pink.
Mike makes a decision he will immediately regret
Mike suddenly straightened up as if gathering courage from the universe itself.
"Sara… can I tell you something? In secret."
Every friend within a ten-meter radius fell silent.
A gasp went through the group like someone dropped a celebrity sighting.
"OH HE'S DOING IT FOR REAL—"
Before the chorus could swell, Mike grabbed Sara's hand—instantly regretted how warm her hand was—and cleared his throat.
"Um—let's go somewhere less… noisy."
Sara blinked, caught off-guard, face still gently blushing. "S-sure."
Justin began fanning himself dramatically. "LET'S GOOO MY BOY—"
Mira physically covered his mouth.
A painfully cute walk
Mike and Sara walked down the hallway at a painfully slow "I don't know what to do with my hands" pace.
Mike's inner monologue was spiraling:
Why did I say secret? I don't even have a secret.
They both turned toward the hallway—and immediately froze.
Their entire friend group was everywhere.
Behind lockers.
Pretending to tie their shoes.
Standing in a clump so obvious it hurt.
One of the boys even held binoculars.
Mike blinked.
Sara blinked.
"…They're not even trying," Sara muttered.
"Yeah," Mike whispered. "This is… actually kind of impressive in a depressing way."
So without another word, they silently stepped away from the circus, walked down the corridor, and slipped into an empty classroom.
Mike shut the classroom door behind them.
Click.
The moment the sound echoed, both their expressions dropped—
as if someone ripped the batteries out of their smiles.
Sara's shoulders relaxed, her eyes turning sharp and calculating instead of warm and cute.
She dropped her bag onto the desk without care.
Mike shoved his hands in his pockets, posture slouching, voice losing the "friendly extrovert" tone he used outside.
They were no longer "Mikey" and "Sara-chan," the sweet teens everyone adored.
They were Michael Sutherland and Sara Anders —
two high-performance machines forced to blend in with humans.
And they acted like it.
Sara exhaled sharply.
"Finally… I thought I'd crack my face if I had to smile for one more second."
Mike scratched the back of his neck.
"Same."
Sara dropped into a seat, crossing her legs, golden eyes flat and cold.
"So."
She tapped her nails on the desk.
"We're really wasting our summer on some overpriced patch of dirt Justin calls an island?"
Mike sat opposite her.
"Apparently."
Sara's eyebrow twitched.
"You sound thrilled."
"Really?, maybe you're not as smart as you think you are." Mike said grinning
"Shut up."
A beat passed.
Sara leaned forward, irritated.
"Do these idiots even realize we actually LIKE having free time? Quiet? No noise? No social nonsense?"
Mike glanced away.
"They don't notice anything. Why would they? We act exactly how they want us to."
Sara scoffed.
"Yeah. Because blending in is sooo convenient."
Mike shrugged.
"It keeps the questions to a minimum."
"Until Justin gets some rich-boy impulse and drags us into nonsense."
"Like this."
"Exactly like this."
They looked at each other with identical deadpan expressions.
Rivals.
Unwilling teammates.
Two people who understood each other only because they disliked the same things.
After a moment, Sara smirked slightly—
not the sweet one she showed the world, but the sharp, competitive one she saved for him alone.
"By the way," she said, folding her arms.
"Congrats on topping the class again."
Mike didn't react, voice flat.
"You were two points behind me. Again."
Sara clicked her tongue.
"You're insufferable."
"And you're predictable."
Sara glared.
"Excuse me?"
"You already calculated where you lost marks, right? You always do."
"Of course I did," she snapped. "And I already fixed the issue. Next time I'm beating you."
Mike raised an eyebrow.
"You said that last time."
"And I'll keep saying it until I'm on top."
He smirked a little.
"I'll wait."
Her eye twitched.
"I hate you."
"I know."
Another beat.
They both sighed simultaneously.
"Ugh… why an island? Why a remote one?" Sara muttered.
Mike leaned back.
"Knowing Justin? His family probably bought it because he got bored one afternoon."
Sara rubbed her temples.
"It's going to be humid. There will be bugs. There will be idiots doing idiotic things."
"And we have to supervise them," Mike groaned.
"Or they'll die."
"Probably."
Sara stared at the ceiling.
"This summer is doomed."
Mike nodded.
"Completely."
Silence.
Cold.
Blunt.
Dead honesty.
Then—
A faint creak.
Mike froze.
Sara did too.
They both slowly turned toward the door.
A faint sound came from the door.
A shuffle.
A whisper.
A muffled: "Move over, you're stepping on my hand—"
Mike's eyes narrowed.
Sara's golden eyes widened.
"…They're not—"
CREAK.
The door knob twitched.
CREAKKKK—
Sara deadpanned, "No way—"
BAM—!!
The door burst open and their entire group of friends collapsed into the classroom in one tangled mountain of limbs.
Justin lay on top, face squished against the floor.
"MY SPINE IS BROKEN BUT IT WAS WORTH IT—"
Mira groaned. "You idiots pushed too hard!"
"We wouldn't have FALLEN if YOU didn't lean so close—"
"SHH—DID THEY KISS?!?"
Mike and Sara stared at them, horror slowly sinking into their souls.
Sara's face turned crimson so fast it was impressive.
Mike looked like he wanted to uninstall reality.
Justin raised a shaky thumbs-up from the floor.
"Good job Mikey… Proud of you…"
Sara covered her face with both hands.
Mike buried his head in his arms.
And just like that, the fragile romantic atmosphere returned.
Justin raised a finger weakly.
"H–Heyyy Mikey… heh… surprise…?"
Sara stared down at them with the flattest expression she had shown all day.
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose.
Their masks flicked back on instantly—
Smiles everywhere.
Later
Mike's Room
Mike pushed open his bedroom door, stepped inside, and immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed.
His body felt like melted metal — drained, overheated, fried from a full day of being "Fake Mike."
He didn't even bother taking off his blazer.
"Why… are people… so exhausting…"
His voice was muffled against the pillow.
DING.
His phone vibrated.
Mike groaned like an old man, stretched one arm toward the nightstand without looking, missed, tried again, and finally grabbed the phone.
On the screen:
Justin : BRO LOOK AT THIS.
A picture loaded.
A large, emerald-green island in the middle of a bright blue ocean. A beautiful aerial shot.
Mike squinted.
"…Looks like a frog."
Another message came instantly.
Justin : BRO Y R U NOT EXCITED THIS PLACE IS GONNA BE EPIC
Mike tossed his phone beside him.
"Ugh… why do I have the feeling this is going to be the longest summer of my life…"
He buried his face deeper into the bed.
Scene fades out.
Sara's Room
Sara sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop open, phone in one hand, hair tied messily behind her head.
She'd changed into casual shorts and a loose white shirt — but her golden eyes were sharp and focused as always when she wasn't pretending.
She typed rapidly.
Search: "recently purchased remote island Asia reports"
She clicked.
Then she frowned.
The island had… another name.
Its original name — before Justin's family bought it.
"Κπος Τερμτων…?"
Her eyebrows rose slightly.
She translated it with a click.
Kḗpos Termáton — "The Garden of Monsters."
"…You've got to be kidding me."
She scrolled.
Old naval logs.
Worn-out mythology records.
Half-translated Greek notes.
Reports of missing fishermen.
Lost surveyors.
Abandoned campsites.
A rescue team that never returned.
Sara stared at the screen with a deadpan expression so flat it could iron clothes.
"This is why rich people should not be allowed to buy land without supervision," she muttered.
Then she clicked another link.
More missing people.
More unexplained vanishings.
She rubbed her temples.
Just great.
She had to call the last person she wanted to talk to after a long day of pretending to be cute and friendly.
Mike.
She sighed.
"Of course."
She hit call.
Mike's Room
Mike was half-asleep, drooling onto his pillow when his phone lit up.
Incoming call: Sara Anders
He stared at the screen.
Then smirked slightly.
"Oh wow… miss me already?"
He answered lazily.
Sara's voice came through instantly, sharp as a blade.
"Shut up. This is serious."
Mike blinked and sat up slightly.
"What happened? Did Justin explode something again?"
"No, worse," she said flatly. "I did research."
Mike knew that tone.
It meant panic wrapped inside annoyance.
He sighed.
"Alright… what did you find?"
Sara paused, then spoke carefully:
"The island has an original name. In Greek. 'Kēpos Termáton.'"
Mike narrowed his eyes.
"…Garden of Monsters?"
"Yes."
"…That's a stupid name for a vacation spot."
"It wasn't supposed to be one."
She continued scrolling.
"Records say people went missing there. Multiple times. Over decades."
Mike leaned back against the wall.
"Missing like… fell off cliffs, drowned? Or missing like… 'mysterious glowing fog and weird sounds at night' missing?"
"Both."
Sara's voice dropped.
"And some of the disappearances were groups. Not individuals."
Mike went silent.
They were smart.
Too smart to ignore patterns.
"…How old are the records?" he asked.
"Some from fifty years ago. Some from five. And at least one rescue crew vanished too."
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Justin's family bought a death island."
"Yes."
"And now he wants to take fourteen idiots there."
"Yes."
Mike inhaled slowly.
Sara continued:
"One article mentions local myths. Something about ancient guardians or creatures. Very vague. Very annoying. And obviously very probably fake…"
"But," Mike added, "you're not the type to get worried over myths."
"Exactly," Sara said. "Which is why I'm more concerned about the missing-persons reports."
Mike clicked his tongue.
"…So we're walking into a place with:
1. A creepy Greek name
2. A history of disappearances
3. No regulations
4. And Justin"
Sara sighed.
"That last one alone raises the danger level."
Mike smirked faintly.
"Agreed."
There was a quiet moment — not friendly, but united in irritation.
Then Sara said:
"I don't like this."
"Me neither."
"We should come up with a plan."
"Damage control?"
"Yes. For the idiots."
Mike rubbed his eyes.
"Alright… send me everything you found. I'll dig into geographic recordings and satellite data."
"I already did that," she said annoyingly fast.
"Your job is to check the weather records, ocean currents, and anything weird that triangulates with the disappearances."
Mike froze.
"…Did you just assign me homework?"
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He sighed dramatically.
Sara huffed.
"Look, I don't care about you. And I definitely don't care about your weird blindsided loyalty to Justin. But I care about not dying on a stupid island."
"Wow. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever not said to me."
"Shut up and do your research."
Mike smirked.
"You know… for someone who 'hates me,' you call me pretty fast when your brain gets scared."
"I'm hanging up."
"Wait—"
Click.
Mike stared at his phone.
"...She totally hates me."
He fell back on his bed.
And for the first time that day…
He felt uneasy.
Seriously uneasy.
Because if he was worried…
and she was worried…
then something was very wrong with that island.