"What's happening in here?!"
Yvienna flinched at the professor's furious voice. Her hand immediately loosened, releasing the girl's hair. But what happened next made everyone freeze.
"B-blood?!" the girl screamed, her trembling fingers touching her scalp where a streak of red appeared.
Yvienna's eyes widened. Blood? That's impossible. She might've pulled her hair—but not that hard. What kind of trick is she trying to pull now?
"Oh my gosh!" gasps filled the room as the girl stumbled toward the corner, clutching her head dramatically like a lunatic panicking over her own act.
"Ms. Mendoza! To the office, now!" the professor barked, rushing to the bleeding girl's side.
"I'll take care of her, Miss," Tiffany volunteered, her voice trembling yet firm.
Yvienna's chest tightened. As everyone crowded around the crying girl, their glares pierced her from every direction.
No one even bothered to ask what really happened.
She's used to being called a brat—but this? This felt like a setup.
"Let's go," the professor ordered.
Yvienna followed, her heels clicking sharply along the quiet hallway. She couldn't bear to meet anyone's eyes. Whispers trailed behind her like poison.
"Isn't she the two-timer?"
She gritted her teeth. That rumor again.
"Your beauty's nothing if you're a whore," someone sneered.
Her glare cut through them, but their mocking laughter only grew louder. Pathetic.
When they reached the office, a familiar voice greeted them.
"Oh, I know you."
The dean leaned back in her chair, her eyes sharp with judgment. "You're Ms. Yvienna Mendoza, right?" She motioned for her to sit.
Everything around her felt suffocating as the professor began describing what happened—painting her as a bully, a troublemaker, a spoiled brat.
Then—
The door suddenly swung open.
Everyone turned. The sharp click of heels echoed against the floor before a teary voice broke the silence.
"I'm also one of her victims, Auntie!"
Yvienna's head snapped toward the doorway.
Cassandra—eyes glistening with crocodile tears—rushed inside and threw herself into the dean's arms.
Yvienna froze. Auntie?
So Cassandra is the dean's niece?
How convenient.
"How funny," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"I do want to give y—" the dean started, but a sudden slam cut her off.
Everyone turned to see Kyle standing by the door, chest heaving, uniform half-untucked, sweat dripping from his forehead. His eyes burned with fury.
"I know what you're up to," he said coldly.
Cassandra's tears dried instantly as she hid behind the dean's chair.
"Yvienna is also a victim! She just fought back!" Kyle's voice echoed through the room.
The dean straightened, her tone icy. "Watch your mouth, Mr. Zamora. You can't talk to me like that just because you're the owner's son."
"Bullsh*t!"
Everyone gasped—including Yvienna. She's never seen him like this.
"You're just protecting her!" Cassandra yelled, stepping out from behind the chair.
Before anyone could react, another voice sliced through the chaos.
"That girl is lying!"
Yvienna's eyes widened. Tiffany—her best friend—stood at the doorway, holding an empty packet dripping with red residue.
"T-Tiffany…" Yvienna's voice broke, her tears finally spilling. For a second, she thought Tiffany had betrayed her.
"Tiffany, what do you mean?" the professor asked, brows furrowed.
"This," Tiffany said, lifting the packet. "Fake blood. Ayla used it to frame Yvienna. She made it look like her head was bleeding when it wasn't."
"You're all protecting her!" Cassandra screamed, her voice trembling with rage.
But before she could say more, Tiffany grabbed her collar and slammed her against the wall.
"You want me to cut that throat of yours?!"
The room went dead silent.
"Stop it if you don't want to be expelled!" the dean roared.
Tiffany glared at Cassandra, slowly loosening her grip on her collar.
"It looks like you're guilty here, Cassandra," Tiffany said coldly. "Do you know Ayla?"
Cassandra's eyes widened as everyone turned their attention to her.
"N-no! Who's she?!"
"The girl who claimed that Yvienna bullied her…" Tiffany continued, her tone sharp. "Even though it wasn't true."
Cold sweat ran down Yvienna's skin as the truth began to unfold before them.
"Enough! Whatever your excuses are, Yvienna still did something unacceptable!" The dean sighed, massaging her forehead in frustration.
"If you hadn't started the physical fight, I'd only give you a warning." The dean clasped her hands together and looked closely at Yvienna.
"You're suspended for one week."
Kyle and Tiffany gasped, while Cassandra smirked faintly behind her aunt. What kind of system is this? Yvienna thought. Unfairness at its finest.
"But your niece is als—"
"Also, the victim. Understood, Ms. Tiffany?" the dean cut her off sharply.
"If that's how poor this system is, then suspend me too!" Kyle said, his voice firm.
Yvienna quickly shook her head, silently pleading for him not to.
"Then suspend me too!" Tiffany blurted out.
The dean raised an eyebrow. "Are you two out of your minds?"
But they didn't answer, standing their ground.
"Even if you disagree, we won't attend classes," Tiffany declared. "Maybe then you'll realize how unfair you're being."
"You don't have to…" Yvienna pleaded weakly, but neither of them listened.
"You're all too full of yourselves," the dean snapped. "Then let the world humble you. For one week, none of you will be suspended—"
"What?!" Cassandra blurted out, only to be silenced by her aunt's glare.
"I'm not finished," the dean said coldly. "Instead, the three of you will conduct community service for one week as your punishment."
"What?!" Yvienna's eyes widened. Her stomach twisted. Everyone's going to laugh at me…
"At least we're with you," Tiffany teased with a wink. Wrong timing, though—it made Yvienna's jaw tighten instead.
The next day, the university grounds were filled with dry leaves as the three followed the janitor. They'd changed into their P.E. uniforms, holding brooms and dustpans as they started cleaning the field.
"Kyle, why does the system here suck?" Tiffany muttered, making the janitor chuckle.
"There's no such thing as fair in this world," the janitor replied before walking away.
"Are you okay, my best friend?" Tiffany asked, watching Yvienna tie her hair into a high bun.
"Yeah. I'm thankful for the two of you—for saving me," Yvienna said softly. She remembered how Tiffany had slammed Cassandra against the wall. I never knew she was that fast… that strong.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Tiffany laughed awkwardly.
"I won't let this happen to you again, my brat," Kyle said seriously, his eyes warm and sincere.
Yvienna's heart skipped. Despite the sweat on his forehead, he looked annoyingly handsome. But her thoughts were cut off as she felt someone's bitter gaze from afar.
"Clean up, guys! I only have two eyes—I can't see if it's dark already!" Tiffany called out sarcastically, making the two laugh.
The sun was setting, painting the field in orange and pink hues.
"I'll clean over there!" Tiffany said, pointing to the other side of the field.
The crunching of dry leaves somehow soothed Yvienna. The sweeping sounds and the soft whisper of the wind brought her peace.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, gazing at the sky. It looked like a living painting—vivid, soft, and free.
"Yeah, it is," Kyle replied, but his eyes were on her instead of the sky. Her soft skin, brunette hair, long lashes, and pointed nose—it was like staring at art in a museum.
An art too expensive to touch.
"Thank you," he suddenly said.
"Huh?" she blinked.
"Thank you for existing."
She chuckled, flipping her hair. "Of course. If I didn't exist, it'd be your loss not to see someone as beautiful as me."
Their laughter filled the air until they realized they'd already finished cleaning. On the other side, Tiffany was almost done, too.
"Let's sit there," Kyle said, pointing under a tree. The sun had nearly disappeared, the campus lights flickering on.
"I'm sorry," Yvienna said as they sat.
"For what?"
"This is all my fault. If I hadn't reacted so impulsively, we wouldn't be here."
"It's not about what you did—it's about how they pushed you to that point," Kyle said gently. "You're human, Yvienna. Don't be too hard on yourself." He brushed a loose strand of her hair aside.
"I should control my anger," Yvienna whispered, her tears forming.
"You don't have to be too hard on yourself," Kyle said softly. "You're human—getting angry doesn't make you bad. What matters is that you're trying to change."
Her tears finally fell.
Kyle leaned closer, his voice low and sincere. "Hey, look at me… you're stronger than you think. Don't let one mistake define you. You don't have to carry this alone. I'm here, okay? You're not facing this by yourself."
"Thank you, Kyle," she whispered.
He smiled faintly before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Cry if that's how you let go of the pain, my Luna."
The night had fully fallen when a fast-approaching figure caught their attention.
"Skipping the match again, huh? You're our top fighter, Tiff! What happened to 'no backing down from a fight'?"
"What the hell, Andrew?!" Tiffany's eyes widened, then darted toward Yvienna and Kyle, who both looked stunned by what they just heard.
Andrew froze, realizing his slip, and quickly covered his mouth.
"What fight and match, Tiffany?" Yvienna asked curiously.