beauty, dirty, rich

While every member of the Nguyen family adhered to materialism, there was only one exception who followed idealism. That should have been completely unacceptable, but due to her esteemed position in the family, no one dared to speak a word.

Mrs. Nguyen anxiously scratched at her wedding ring—a habit she had whenever she sensed a forthcoming "bad omen"—and cast a worried glance at her one and only son sitting across the dining table. Nguyen Huynh Son began his day like any other: neatly dressed in a crisply ironed uniform, taking a sip of coffee, putting down the daily newspaper, and glancing at his wristwatch.

“Son, stay home today, won’t you?” she reached out to hold his hand, gently pleading.

“I have a feeling that today isn’t going to be a good day.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll handle it, Mom. Don’t worry.” Huynh Son smiled at his mother. He was already used to this. Since childhood, his mother had been superstitious—though rarely did it escalate to the level of warnings like today. Most of the time, it was limited to advice about which foot to step out of bed with first, or how to arrange furniture for better feng shui. Almost no one feared her warnings, because nothing ever truly threatened the Nguyen family.

Since he was young, Huynh Son had lived by strict rules, mastering the art of controlling situations and always staying one step ahead—following teachings passed down from his great-grandfather. That was the very reason the family had become as powerful and successful as they were today.

So, like any other day, Huynh Son reassured his mother, picked up his schoolbag, and left the house at the exact same time as always, settling into the back seat of the car heading to school.

The driver started the engine, and the car slowly rolled out of the vast courtyard. In the rearview mirror, the image of a worried mother watching the car fade into the distance reflected back. Huynh Son sighed—his already cautious nature now had to be even more alert, mostly because he didn’t want to add to his mother’s anxiety.

The sleek black car glided through the neighborhood, turned left at a familiar corner onto the main road. It was only then that Huynh Son remembered something important. He leaned forward to get the driver’s attention.

“Could you swing by Thach’s house for me?” he said, glancing toward the line of golden gates peeking out at the end of the street. Normally, he wouldn’t agree to picking up a friend like this, but the fact that they lived close by was the only thing that convinced him.

Who knew what the reason was this time? Nguyen Cao Son Thach was often either too hungover from some wild party to wake up on time and needed a ride, or had burned through all his gas speeding around town the night before. Either way, Huynh Son didn’t really care. If Thach didn’t show up at the gate within five minutes, he’d just leave.

A breath of relief escaped him when he saw Thach leaning against the gate, but his smile vanished the moment he noticed his friend’s condition. Huynh Son always wished he could pretend he didn’t know this sloppy mess of a person, but their so-called unbreakable friendship (emphasis on the Son) weighed too heavily for him to actually walk away.

Son Thach’s face lit up when he saw the familiar car pull up in front of the gate. He eagerly opened the door and hopped in beside Huynh Son, who shot him a judgmental look before turning away. Thach pulled a tie from his pocket, slipped on his crushed-back sneakers, straightened his collar, and instinctively raised a hand to smooth his hair—until he remembered he’d shaved it all off days ago.

Huynh Son also noticed the glaring red color on Thach’s buzzcut—it was hard to miss—but before he could say anything, it was already done.

Then again, if Thach still had a full head of hair, he’d probably waste another thirty minutes of his life styling it, so this was a trade-off.

The smooth ride to school was filled with Thach’s off-key singing and the gentle hum of the engine. The road ahead led straight to the most prestigious international school in the city—a place that gathered the sons and daughters of the rich and powerful. The closer they got, the more refined and dignified the atmosphere became, a stark contrast to the bustling city streets outside. The large school sign shimmered in the blazing sunlight, ostentatious and bold, its finely engraved letters seemingly affirming its own status and class.

Past the towering gates shaded by ancient trees, the campus unfolded like a miniature international university. Classical European-style buildings stood in elegant succession, surrounded by lush green lawns, sports fields, and meticulously trimmed gardens. Students in neat uniforms, of all skin colors and nationalities, moved between the classroom buildings. Their world stood wide open before them, welcoming them—just like every other meticulously programmed, ordinary day.

The car slowly pulled into the parking lot. Huynh Son glanced at the purple Porsche next to them and saw that Le Truong Son had just stepped out. He immediately turned to scold Son Thach.

“You should learn from him. You two party every night, but he’s still more put-together than you.”

Son Thach simply scoffed, tilting his head slightly to spot Truong Son outside before getting out of the car. Truong Son wore his uniform neatly, with a perfectly tied tie and gleaming leather shoes. His upright, composed posture stood in stark contrast to Son Thach’s laid-back, carefree demeanor.

If Son Thach was the rebellious type, then Truong Son was the one who respected the rules—though both of them belonged to the school’s infamous party crowd. Truong Son was more disciplined and rational, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous when it was time to prove himself.

“Right on time, as always, huh?” Truong Son tilted his head as he saw the two friends stepping out of the car. He walked over and gave Son Thach a not-so-friendly look. “Still clinging to him? You’re such a pain.”

“Starting the day already throwing shade?” Son Thach rolled his eyes and reached out to mess up Truong Son’s hair, only to have his hand swiftly batted away by a cat-like swat.

The cat was about to knee the wolf in the stomach, but their attention was quickly stolen by the roar of a motorcycle engine in the distance, shattering the morning calm. Huynh Son sighed, silently thinking: Here comes Thach’s twin from another operating system.

Pham Duy Thuan’s black motorcycle sped along the school driveway and parked in the two-wheeler section. He wore the school uniform but threw a black leather jacket over it, his bleached hair tousled under his helmet—looking every bit like a professional racer. He was the only one in the group who didn’t care for flashy cars, always choosing a motorcycle for the freedom and flexibility it offered.

His edgy appearance immediately softened when his eyes met his three friends. He smoothed back his hair and flashed a grin. Huynh Son could practically hear women fainting in the background—and honestly, some men too.

“Thuan, there’s something on your cheek,” Huynh Son said, pointing at his friend’s face. Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow carved with a slit, blinked those big eyes, and went “ah” before touching the lipstick mark on his cheek.

“The price of a cup of coffee,” he replied casually, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe it away.

Needless to say, he was the group's golden ticket to free food.

Every scheme usually began with Son Thach.

“Thuan, go flash that smile, bring back some drinks for us.”

“What am I, your escort?” Duy Thuan always replied with mock indignation, but everyone knew he secretly loved it. Who doesn’t enjoy being admired for looking good?

The four of them walked into the hallway just before the bell rang. So far, everything was under control. Huynh Son acted nonchalant, but his mother’s warning still lingered in his mind. He picked up the pace a little, walked more carefully, and eventually parted ways with the trio to head into class on his own.

Sitting down at his seat, Huynh Son glanced around. The teacher and his classmates were just arriving—after him. As always.

He quietly exhaled, starting the first lesson of the day in peace. He didn’t forget to think of his mother’s favorite phrase, “knock on wood.”

—

One... Huynh Son slowly counted down to calm himself, tapping his toe against the floor, trying to mask his irritation with a smile.

“Oh? So the president wants to run for re-election this year,” the teacher said in surprise, looking at the raised hand before glancing apologetically at Huynh Son’s frozen arm.

If he were a machine, his neck would have creaked at that moment. He slowly turned his head to look at the person who had just thrown down the gauntlet.

Tang Vu Minh Phuc—the teachers’ darling, second only to Huynh Son. The tension between them had been palpable since the very first day of school. Huynh Son usually dismissed others for not matching his academic performance, except for this one. He had nearly slammed his head against the wall after Minh Phuc beat him by 0.25 points on the final literature exam last year.

Minh Phuc had quickly snagged the position of student council president upon entering the school, becoming Huynh Son’s number one rival ever since. This year, Huynh Son was fully prepared to crush all other candidates—a plan that should’ve been easy—until Minh Phuc raised his hand.

Just like that, the rivalry between Huynh Son and Minh Phuc was taken to a whole new level.

It wasn’t just Huynh Son—Minh Phuc was a thorn in the side of the entire friend group. All because he once snitched on Son Thach and Truong Son for sneaking out by climbing over the school gate. Since then, Son Thach had found his name permanently etched into the teachers’ blacklist, and Truong Son had to become even more cunning with his escape plans. Minh Phuc didn’t get along with Duy Thuan either—thanks to a certain incident that ended with Minh Phuc’s friends tearing each other’s hair out because of Thuan.

So, the moment Minh Phuc and Huynh Son officially registered as candidates, every other contender immediately withdrew. Not because they were cowards, but because they wanted front-row seats to the chaos that was about to unfold between two sworn enemies.

“Well, we meet again, Son,” Minh Phuc said with a fake smile, standing at the podium as he handed over the pen for Son to sign the candidate list. Huynh Son squinted, smiled tightly, and gripped the pen hard enough to almost tear the paper as he signed.

“Such a pleasure,” Huynh Son said—and immediately wanted to bite his own tongue.

“Good luck,” Minh Phuc replied with a tilt of his head, his words as sharp as arrows. “Seems like you’ll need it more than I do.”

Huynh Son smiled back just as brightly.

“Sleep with one eye open tonight. Careful or the ghosts might drag you by the legs,”

Minh Phuc nodded with a gentle smile. The dark clouds lingering above their heads seemed to split in two as he stepped down from the podium.

Huynh Son didn’t usually pick fights, but Minh Phuc was like a magnet that drew out every bit of spite from beneath his polite surface.

He really needed to summon a ghost to drag that guy away.

—

“Me?” Duy Thuan widened his eyes, pointing at himself.

“Yes, you,” Huynh Son replied with a smile.

The whole group exchanged bewildered glances around the dinner table.

After a long school day, the four of them had met up at a pre-booked restaurant for dinner. From the moment Huynh Son walked in, something had felt off. No one, however, had expected him to ask Duy Thuan to flirt with Minh Phuc to distract him from the student council race.

Until now, the worst they had asked Thuan to do was fetch free food and drinks—not seduce someone.

“Out of all the shady stuff we’ve ever done, this might be the most evil,” even Son Thach couldn’t wrap his head around it, giving Huynh Son a wary look.

“Yeah, that guy never even did anything to you. You two have always played fair,” Truong Son chimed in.

“I’m done playing fair. This time, I want a quick and clean win,” Huynh Son sighed, starting to explain his plan to the others.

“Organizing and managing the mixer with the school’s sponsors after the opening ceremony is one of the main responsibilities of the student council president. I’m not afraid of going big, but Phuc is a charmer. He’s got those sponsors wrapped around his finger. If he gets their favor, I’m screwed. I need someone to pull him out of that event—and the only one among us capable of doing that is you, Thuan.”

“So I’m your secret weapon now, huh?” Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, though. That guy doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“Who wouldn’t like you? You’re way smoother than him—trust me.”

“What if he rejects our guy?” Son Thach added dramatically, mock gasping and covering his mouth. “Then our collective reputation will be tarnished, because Pham-freaking-Duy-Thuan will have been turned down for the first time in his life.”

“Hey, that actually hurt,” Duy Thuan grimaced at Son Thach.

“But getting rejected by Minh Phuc would really hurt,” Truong Son smirked, adding fuel to the fire. “That guy’s like humanity’s final wall against Thuan’s charm.”

The more he heard, the more Duy Thuan winced.

Huynh Son quietly watched his three friends bantering, noting how deeply Duy Thuan’s pride had just been wounded. Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.

“What do I get if I actually win him over?” Duy Thuan finally asked after a long pause.

“A hot new girlfriend. Or another name to add to your list of exes if you get bored,” Son Thach and Truong Son replied in unison.

“Or I’ll give you my car,” Huynh Son straightened up, leaning forward on the table. “I know you’re not that into cars, but this one’s the latest model. You could probably trade it in for a couple of badass bikes.”

Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow, clearly considering the offer seriously.

“Alright,” he said at last. “Because I enjoy a good challenge—and the car’s a nice bonus.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Huynh Son gave him the only sincere smile he’d shown all day, placing a hand on Thuan’s shoulder.

Up to this point, Huynh Son’s day had been smooth sailing, and he was increasingly pleased with his ability to manipulate any situation. Nothing in the world could faze him. And he intended to keep it that way for the rest of his life.

—

After dinner, the four of them piled into Huynh Son’s new car and headed to their usual bar—the one where Son Thach paid his monthly “party tax.”

If every universe had its Jackson Wang, the ultimate party king, then in this one, that title belonged to Nguyen Cao Son Thach.

The moment they arrived, bottles of alcohol flooded the table. Son Thach downed a few shots and darted straight into the crowd on the dance floor. Duy Thuan went off to greet acquaintances, while the two Sons stayed back at the table.

At first, the regulars at the bar couldn’t figure out how this odd group had even come to be—one a party animal, one a ladies’ man, one dead serious, and the last one a statistical average of the three.

But the truth wasn’t anything so complicated it required conspiracy theories.

All four families had been close for ages. The two Nguyen households treated each other like blood relatives, and through business connections, they’d become intertwined with the Pham and Le families too.

Since childhood, they had treated Huynh Son’s house as a second home. The four heirs grew up together, went to the same schools from elementary to high school.

Despite their wildly different personalities, they found a kind of harmony—living by the unspoken code: “You die, I die. The power of four is sacred and untouchable.”

Besides, four rich, good-looking guys walking together? The aura was just better that way.

As they grew older, their bond strengthened thanks to the benefits they provided each other. Huynh Son had the authority to cover for the other three at school. Truong Son had an extensive web of social connections. Son Thach ruled over nightlife and entertainment. And Duy Thuan—well, he was hot.

Kidding. If the other three were a machine, then Thuan was the oil that kept it running smoothly.

When Son Thach and Duy Thuan tapped out, Truong Son became the next one dragged onto the dance floor.

Heavy bass thumped through the room, lights flashing relentlessly over the polished glass floor, casting a wild and dazzling atmosphere.

Huynh Son ignored the fun and just sat back, soaking in the music while keeping an eye on the others like a general surveying the battlefield.

Tonight’s theme seemed to be costumes. Girls were decked out in fluffy animal ears and feather-trimmed, daringly cut outfits, while guys joined in with chaotic prints and flashy accessories.

Son Thach clinked glasses with Duy Thuan and stood on the balcony, taking a break to look down on the wild scene below before diving back in.

Beneath them, neon purple light melted across vibrant hair colors.

Son Thach’s eyes landed on the shock of white-dyed hair—Truong Son—who was surrounded by girls.

He smiled, dancing lightly to the beat, bowing slightly as one girl slipped a pair of cat ears on his head.

Son Thach’s eyes widened.

After spending a lifetime beside this guy—surviving the madness of puberty together—this was the first time he had truly looked at one of his best friends.

Truong Son had always been the loudest of the group, aloof and unbothered by anyone, constantly playing the role of the team’s unofficial lawyer, handling every crisis.

Maybe that was just a shell they’d grown too used to.

Seeing him now, genuinely enjoying himself without being defensive or sharp-tongued, made Son Thach feel oddly unfamiliar with the sight.

And to think—they’d always joked about Truong Son being a cat.

Yet this was the first time he’d actually seen the guy wear cat ears.

It felt like he’d just unearthed the fossil of a long-extinct species.

“Am I drunk, or is Son getting more attractive lately?” Son Thach leaned against the balcony, eyes fixed on Truong Son.

“Which Son?” Duy Thuan, half-distracted, snapped to attention with suspicion.

“Which Son what?” Son Thach frowned, confused.

“Nguyen Son or Le Son? The prince or the cat?” Duy Thuan asked more specifically.

“Le Son. The cat,” Son Thach muttered, rubbing his forehead in defeat.

Duy Thuan stared at his friend in horror, tiptoeing to peer into the glass of alcohol in Son Thach’s hand.

“Did someone drug you?”

“Probably,” Son Thach clicked his tongue and turned back to look at Truong Son.

The music slowed down, matching Truong Son’s ability to catch the beat. His shoulders swayed gently with the rhythm, two buttons on his shirt undone, revealing a delicate collarbone. The light slid across his figure from one side to the other. The entire scene was burned into Son Thach’s eyes as if he were hypnotized. He gulped hard.

“Hey.” Duy Thuan placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly, like trying to snap him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. “Are you being serious right now?”

Son Thach blinked, turning quickly to look at his friend.

“What?”

Duy Thuan frowned, giving him a concerned look. This time he placed both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look straight at him.

“I could flirt with the entire world, but not with you three. Even I get that. So don’t let a little alcohol make you do something we’ll all regret.”

“What do you mean?” Son Thach looked genuinely confused, unable to follow the train of thought.

Duy Thuan sighed, remembering that sometimes this guy needed things spelled out directly.

“Do. Not. Go. After. The. Cat.” He slapped a hand down with each word. “You can want anyone, but don’t screw up our friendship over a moment of impulse. Got it?”

“W-what are you saying?! When did I ever want to go after him?” Son Thach finally understood and quickly shrugged off Duy Thuan’s hands.

“Oh, I don’t know—about a few seconds ago?” Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow. “We were literally born in the same hospital, I know exactly what you're thinking.”

Son Thach pressed his lips together, realizing that his friend was seriously concerned.

“I was just saying nonsense… Me and him? Haha… gross.” He avoided Duy Thuan’s gaze, bringing the glass to his lips for a forced sip.

“I’m serious, alright? You three are the only real friends I have. Don’t throw that away like trash.” Duy Thuan gave him one last warning, then softened his tone, letting out a long sigh as he threw an arm around Son Thach’s shoulder and guided him off the balcony. “It’s nine-thirty, let’s go before Son Nguyen needs his bedtime.”

Son Thach nodded, gripping his glass tightly.

Huynh Son glanced at his wristwatch, satisfied to see that the three friends had stopped partying right on time.

Normally, Son Thach would stay out much later, but tonight seemed to be an exception—whether it was because he was drunk or something else, he was noticeably quieter than usual. Huynh Son didn’t bother to question it. As long as they got home on time like he wanted, that was all that mattered.

And so the day ended in peace. Huynh Son placed a hand over his chest and let out a relieved sigh, thinking to himself that once again, his mother had worried for nothing—or maybe he was just favored by the heavens enough to dodge every bit of bad luck.

That is, until the four of them walked out of the bar and stepped into the parking lot.

—

“Uhm… I don’t think I’ll be taking your car anymore, Son,” Duy Thuan muttered, edging closer to Huynh Son, who had turned to stone. Both Son Thach and Truong Son looked as though they had sobered up completely the moment they saw what was in front of them.

On the sleek, glossy door of Huynh Son’s car was one giant word spray-painted in bold letters:

DOG.

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