i knew you were trouble

“Ha.”

The first person to speak after the deadly silence was Son Thach—or more accurately, he accidentally let out a laugh.

The sound was cut short the moment he realized Huynh Son was grinding his teeth. No matter how close they were, he was genuinely afraid of Huynh Son. Unlike the rest of the group, Huynh Son actually had brains in his head—his strictness was the dam that held back the waves of chaos within their circle. And once that dam broke, no one dared imagine what he’d do to vent his fury.

“Who did this?” Huynh Son finally spoke, his voice cold, seething with a fury like a volcano about to erupt.

“This has gone too far, even if it’s a joke,” said Truong Son, the only one fully grasping the gravity of the situation. Calming Huynh Son was now priority number one. “Let’s check the CCTV.”

Without hesitation, Huynh Son spun around, his eyes burning with rage. He marched straight back toward the entrance of the bar, where the manager was still busy coordinating the cleanup. No words were needed—just one sharp glance from Huynh Son was enough to demand access to the security footage. Recognizing him as a VIP, the manager quickly complied without delay.

A few minutes later, the whole group was led into the security control room. Surveillance footage flickered across multiple screens, covering the parking lot and entrance. Huynh Son sat down, eyes locked on the playback. The manager nervously rewound the tape until the footage revealed a stranger vandalizing the car.

The CCTV showed a young man in a black bomber jacket pulling a spray can from his pocket and scrawling graffiti across Huynh Son’s prized vehicle. His swift, confident movements suggested premeditation. Once finished, he stuffed the can back into his pocket and quickly walked off.

“Looks like a weasel,” Son Thach whispered to Duy Thuan, who responded with an unamused glance.

After closely inspecting the footage, the manager’s face turned pale. He swallowed hard, then turned to Huynh Son with a hesitant tone.

“Actually… I recognize this person,” he said, his voice shaky with worry.

Huynh Son raised an eyebrow, his eyes sharp as blades—urging the manager to continue.

“That’s… Tran Anh Khoa,” the manager said quietly. “He’s one of the dancers who performs here every weekend. Very popular with the crowd, especially young people... But I never thought he’d do something like this.”

Truong Son, ever the calm one, looked toward the manager and asked bluntly:

“Does he have a problem with us? Why would he randomly vandalize our car?”

The manager shook his head quickly.

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe he had too much to drink and lost control. Honestly, Khoa’s not the type to cause trouble—he’s well-liked by both customers and staff.”

Huynh Son let out a soft chuckle—but it was far from cheerful. His eyes darkened as he stared at the screen, where Anh Khoa was still mid-spray.

“Whether he’s liked or not doesn’t matter. What matters is—he messed with what’s mine.”

Duy Thuan, who had been quiet, suddenly seemed to recall something.

“Tran Anh Khoa… That name rings a bell. I think he goes to the same school as us. Tenth grade, maybe?”

“How do you know?” Truong Son asked with a frown.

“Heard it from someone,” Duy Thuan shrugged. “I was talking to a girl from the performing arts club the other day. She spilled all the tea about the dance crew.”

“All hail the Minister of Foreign Affairs!” Son Thach cheered, throwing an arm around Duy Thuan.

Hearing that, the manager quickly spoke up—

“I will contact Khoa right away and ask him to meet you to explain. I am truly sorry for this incident. We will handle this immediately and make up for our mistake.”

“No.” Huynh Son raised his hand, and the other three immediately fell silent when they recognized that expression on his face — the look of someone who had a plan.

“Send me his work schedule,” Huynh Son clenched his fist, a wicked grin forming on his lips. “I will personally deal with this weasel.”

Though the situation was tense, Duy Thuan didn’t forget his assigned mission. After asking around, he learned that Minh Phuc often went to the library early in the morning — a classic bookworm. He chuckled to himself; this was the first time he had entered a library to flirt with someone.

Duy Thuan stepped into the library courtyard — the space was quiet and airy. Rows of wooden tables and chairs were lined up neatly, sunlight streaming through large glass panels, illuminating towering bookshelves. He walked slowly, eyes scanning the area, and soon spotted Minh Phuc sitting in a far corner, immersed in a thick book.

Minh Phuc wore a neat school uniform, glasses perched on his nose, light brown curls framing his face — he looked harmless, like a soft bun.

Duy Thuan smiled, strolling over with enough presence to be noticed but not cause disturbance. Minh Phuc looked up in surprise, recognizing the troublemaker in this sacred place (to him). At first, he tried to ignore him until the guy pulled out a chair and sat directly across from him.

“What do you want?” Minh Phuc asked cautiously, pulling his book closer to create a clear barrier.

“Does your family own this library or something?” Duy Thuan folded his arms on the table, blinking innocently. “Do I need your permission to be here now?”

“Yes, and yes,” Minh Phuc replied without hesitation, keeping his gaze fixed behind Duy Thuan — avoiding both the guy’s bulging biceps and his flirty eyes.

“Well then,” Duy Thuan clasped his hands like a schoolboy. “I, Pham Duy Thuan, sincerely ask permission from Tang Vu Minh Phuc to sit with you in your family's library.”

Minh Phuc’s lip twitched. Now he understood why his friends fought over this guy.

“Did Huynh Son send you here?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“No, I came on my own,” Duy Thuan leaned on one hand, eyes never leaving Minh Phuc. “I’m curious about you.”

“And you couldn’t just stalk me silently like a normal person?” Minh Phuc raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never had to stalk anyone. I don’t like sneaky games,” Duy Thuan smiled.

“You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?” Minh Phuc scoffed.

“Depends on your opinion.”

“You still think that F4 label gives you power?”

“So you pay attention to me?”

“Let me tell you, your group doesn’t hold any real power anymore,” Minh Phuc smirked. “Now people call you Princess Huynh Son and his three musketeers.”

“Oh? So I’m a musketeer in your eyes?” Duy Thuan placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be touched. Minh Phuc wished he could slam the book shut on his own head.

“Cut the act. I know you’re not as good as you look,” Minh Phuc sneered. “In fact, I know you’re a pervert. I once saw you watching some anime where naked guys were chasing each other around in the school canteen!”

His voice rose slightly at the end, drawing curious looks from those nearby.

“You mean... Attack on Titan?” Duy Thuan froze.

“There! You even remember the name! Pervert!”

Duy Thuan couldn’t hold it anymore — he burst out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.

“You’re hilarious, Phuc.”

“First warning,” the librarian finally stood up, pointing a ruler in their direction. Minh Phuc turned pale.

“Sorry ma’am, all my fault,” Duy Thuan waved, flashing a wink that temporarily petrified the woman.

He turned back to Minh Phuc, face glowing from laughter.

“Class is about to start, so I’ll be quick. I’m really curious about you. You must be something special if Son sees you as a rival. And now that I see you’re funny too — we actually vibe well, don’t we?”

“Except I feel like dying every second I’m near you — sure, we vibe,” Minh Phuc replied stubbornly.

“See? You’re fun.” Duy Thuan’s eyes sparkled. “I want to see you more. When are you free?”

“Even if I am, I wouldn’t want to meet you,” Minh Phuc snapped.

“Then I’ll have to stalk you,” Duy Thuan pouted. “You’re the first to make me do that.”

“Congrats.” Minh Phuc firmly closed his book and stood up. “I don’t care. You’ll get bored of this game soon enough.”

“Are you challenging me?” Duy Thuan leaned back, looking up at him. “I love a good challenge.”

Minh Phuc rubbed his forehead. He was about to explode. “Do what you want. I’m leaving.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked off without wasting another second.

“Study well,” Duy Thuan smiled and waved gently. Minh Phuc gritted his teeth — he had no idea what he’d done to catch this guy’s attention.

This must be Huynh Son’s scheme. Minh Phuc wasn’t naive enough to fall into the rabbit hole Duy Thuan had dug. He couldn’t believe even the so-called prince had to use cheap tricks like this.

It only proved that Huynh Son didn’t fully trust himself — Minh Phuc smirked, realizing how much influence he must have.

Too bad Son had chosen the wrong person to distract him. Everyone knew Pham Duy Thuan was a flirt — only an idiot would fall into his trap (though half the school was apparently full of idiots).

Minh Phuc wasn’t interested — Duy Thuan’s charm didn’t stand a chance. Sooner or later, he’d give up once he realized he couldn’t crack this one. Guys like him never had the patience to chase someone who saw right through them.

After finding out who had vandalized his car, Huynh Son couldn’t stop at just tracking Anh Khoa’s work schedule. That wasn’t his style. The next morning, he began digging into Khoa’s background — and was surprised by what he discovered.

Anh Khoa wasn’t just a popular dancer at the bar, but also a notorious troublemaker at school — someone feared by both students and teachers.

Despite his charming looks and standout fashion, he was known for rebellious behavior — skipping class, challenging authority, and doing whatever he pleased.

How had Huynh Son never heard of him before? All this chaos had been happening right under his nose.

And this troublemaker was a well-liked figure at his job? The contrast was baffling.

After hearing everything, Truong Son commented, “He doesn’t seem like someone who’d destroy property just for fun. Maybe impulsive, but he knows how to cover himself. If he did this, he probably planned it.”

Son Thach had another opinion. “Maybe he just wants attention. Some people love being the center of drama. But touching your car? That’s stupid.”

Huynh Son agreed with Son Thach. That night, the group gathered at their usual VIP corner. The table was full of drinks, but no one really cared.

Huynh Son was deep in thought, eyes fixed on the stage where Khoa would perform this weekend.

Opposite him, Duy Thuan scrolled through Instagram — Minh Phuc’s profile. The more he learned, the harder this mission seemed.

Minh Phuc wasn’t just smart — he was cautious, unmoved by glitz or surprise encounters.

The memory of him sitting silently at the library that morning replayed in Duy Thuan’s mind.

Son Thach peeked over and smirked. “Still can’t win him over? Son, look at the mess you threw your brother into.”

Huynh Son looked up blankly, not catching the joke.

Duy Thuan smirked. “Unlike those easy bar girls you usually see, Phuc is different — he even figured out our plan from the start.”

“It’s understandable. You’ll have to be more subtle if this mission is to succeed,” Truong Son sipped his drink.

Huynh Son finally spoke, voice calm but firm. “No matter how cautious he is, you have to throw him off. We can’t let him take the upper hand in this election.”

“Don’t worry,” Duy Thuan replied. “I’ll handle it.”

He looked back at his phone. “I just need a little more time to find his weak spot.”

Son Thach tried to lift the mood. “Come on, tonight’s for relaxing. Why’s everyone so serious? Let’s have fun — forget Khoa and Phuc for now!”

He raised his glass, trying to cheer them up.

Huynh Son smiled faintly but didn’t raise his drink. His mind was too full.

Anh Khoa had wronged him. Minh Phuc was the biggest threat to his victory.

Neither could be ignored.

Truong Son clinked glasses with Son Thach and took a sip.

Son Thach rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair. “Boring. Should’ve stayed home.”

Just then, Truong Son’s phone rang. He smiled at the name, catching Son Thach’s attention.

But instead of answering, he silenced it and put it face-down.

“Who was that?”

“A new streamer,” Truong Son answered bluntly.

This wasn’t the first time — his father ran a media company and encouraged him to network with streamers and KOLs.

“Guy or girl?”

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter. But calling this late? Sounds fishy. You two doing more than just business?”

“Why are you so nosy today?” Truong Son raised an eyebrow, making Son Thach nervous.

“Just worried you’ll get lured into something,” he said casually. “There are shady people out there, you know.”

“Yes, dad.” Truong Son rolled his eyes.

“What?” Son Thach blinked, thinking he misheard.

“What what?”

“You just called me what?”

Truong Son looked at him, confused. Maybe it was just Son Thach being weird as usual.

“Back off,” he said, pushing his hand between them. “Two weirdos are enough. Don’t need a third.”

Son Thach gave up, slumping back in his seat.

Meanwhile, Duy Thuan kept scrolling.

He paused at photos of Minh Phuc outside of school — smiling, warm, and sincere.

There were pictures of him volunteering, helping kids in remote areas.

No wonder Son was cautious.

Duy Thuan chuckled to himself.

Then he found something important — Minh Phuc was a prominent member of the school’s debate club.

His eyes lit up, switching tabs to find the club’s Facebook page.

He took a sip of wine, leaned back in his chair, eyes still glued to his phone. Duy Thuan realized that if he wanted to approach and influence Minh Phuc, he would have to be much more careful and clever. Minh Phuc was not the type to be easily swayed by appearances or simple tricks. He had depth, ideals, and was not easy for others to see through.

A difficult puzzle—and unfortunately, Duy Thuan really liked solving puzzles. Smiling, he turned off his phone screen after finishing today’s search, countless other plans unfolding in his mind.

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