Outside the bus window, the landscape slowly but inexorably changed. First - asphalt, gas stations, town signs. Then - silence, fields, and more and more trees: firs, pines, maples. The dense forest approached the road, as if it was going to swallow the entire bus.

Music from headphones, hasty phone calls, conversations, barking, laughter sounded in the cabin. Someone was playing cards, someone was discussing who would live with whom, and someone was just staring out the window, like her.

Her face was gloomy. Her gaze was glassy. No one was sitting next to her - on purpose. She did not hide her irritation: her whole appearance screamed that she was not here of her own free will. While others were curiously reaching for the windows, she quietly turned off the music, put the headphones in her jacket pocket and did not even sigh - she just stared ahead.

The bus stopped with a dull creaking sound. Outside, a massive wooden arch with a scorched inscription: "Summer Camp 'Fiery Coast'

"Yeah, fiery... Burn me right away," someone muttered in the back rows. Laughter.

"Okay, everyone, don't push! Take your things and go out one by one!" - shouted a counselor with a short haircut and a megaphone on her shoulder. - "Girls - to the right, guys - to the left, and no fuss!"

The crowd stirred. Backpacks, suitcases, sports bags - all of it was spinning, rattling, falling and rising. On the faces of most - delight, energy, anticipation.

She was the last to stand. She grabbed her heavy bag and slowly headed for the exit. Too calm. Too gloomy.

Already outside, the air was fresh, smelled of pine needles and a little of campfire smoke. The forest around was thick, dense, green - and wild. The wilderness, - thought the girl. - The real thing.

The counselors stood at the arch - six people, three for each team. Each had a handkerchief on their wrist: some had blue, others had red. All in the same uniform: T-shirts with the camp logo, badges with names. Some were smiling, some looked sleepy, but one of them stood with his hands clasped across his chest, with a serious face.

Jeon Jungkook. It was impossible not to notice him - not because of the tattoos or piercings, but because of his gaze. Dark, attentive, in which there was a feeling that he was already reading people through and through.

"Hello everyone," - the counselor with the megaphone said loudly. — "You have arrived at our favorite camp, and I hope that this summer will be truly memorable for you!"

"I hope not," she whispered under her breath and rolled her eyes.

"We are now going to conduct a test to determine who will be assigned to which team," the girl continued. — "It will take five minutes. Based on the results, you will be divided into two teams — red and blue. Each will have three counselors and 20 participants. The test is simple, just answer honestly!"

"Can I go straight to the red ones? I have a temperament!" — some guy with curly hair shouted. Laughter.

"You can't," one of the counselors answered sternly. — "You don't choose the team. The team chooses you."

Jungkook stood a little further away, watching. He was silent. His gaze lingered for a split second on the girl with a displeased face, who was keeping to herself. He noted: not smiling. Detached. Angry.

Something told him that the summer would not be as easy as he thought.