The gates of Ainsworth Academy gleamed like the polished façade of a kingdom that had forgotten how to feel. Ornate marble columns flanked the wide iron gates, which opened slowly each morning as if to declare to the world: only the chosen may enter. Sleek luxury sedans lined the driveway, disgorging teenagers in pristine uniforms, their faces curated to perfection. They walked with a confidence that had been instilled, not earned.
Seo Yuna stepped off the city bus at the curb like a wrong note in a symphony. Her blazer was second-hand, her shoes worn at the heels, but her back was straight and her eyes burned with quiet defiance. This world of privilege might glitter on the outside, but she knew how to see past glitter. She adjusted her bag and took her first step onto the cobbled path.
"Let's get this over with," she muttered under her breath.
"Yuna!" A voice sliced through the noise of morning greetings.
Ha Yuri emerged from a knot of glossy-haired girls with practiced grace, her smile sharp beneath honey-sweet tones. "Finally! I've been dying for someone I can actually talk to."
Yuna blinked, unsure how to respond to the exuberant greeting. "Thanks for waiting. This place is... huge."
Yuri tossed her hair like she was in a commercial. "It's basically a palace. Stick with me. I know how everything works."
They began to walk, Yuna trying not to feel small as the towers of the academy loomed above. Her attention snagged on a passing figure: tall, cool, and utterly self-contained. Kim Ara. Her eyes flicked to Yuri, then to Yuna. The wink she sent was small, but unmistakable.
Yuna's stomach tightened. So it begins.
The cafeteria was unlike anything Yuna had ever seen in a school. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. Velvet booths lined the walls. In the center sat the A-List, a circle of untouchables.
Jang Minjun, the cold-faced heir to a corporate dynasty. Lee Dohyun, the ever-smirking tactician. Park Hyunwoo, charming but unpredictable. Choi Taeyang, the wild card with laughing eyes. Shin Jisoo, silent and calculating.
Yuna entered, gripping her tray like a lifeline. The lunch smelled expensive. As she navigated the polished floors, her foot caught slightly on an uneven tile. Orange juice soared.
Time slowed.
The juice landed on Minjun's shoes.
Gasps swept the room. Yuna flushed as her tray hit the floor with a clatter.
"I am so sorry—"
Minjun looked down at the stain, then up. His voice was so quiet it chilled. "You're new. You don't know the rules."
Yuna took a breath, crouched with a napkin, and started blotting the mess.
"It's juice, not acid," she said, not meeting his gaze. "I'll clean it."
Dohyun leaned back. "Minjun doesn't wear anything twice. Especially not stained shoes."
Yuna paused, then stood.
"Make up your mind," she said. "You want a mop or a fight?"
The air held its breath.
Ara and Baek Sumin, seated across the room, exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Minjun stared at her, eyes unreadable.
"Stand up," he said. "Don't kneel for anyone."
She already had.
Later, Yuna opened her locker and recoiled. The words "KNOW YOUR PLACE" were scrawled in red marker. Inside, a red envelope sat like a curse.
Nari, voice gentle, appeared at her side. "That's the red card. You're officially on the list."
"They only go after threats," Sumin added, stepping forward. "You should be proud."
Ara appeared without a word, holding makeup wipes. "We're not letting this stay. Come on."
Together, they scrubbed the locker clean. Yuna didn't smile, but something in her shoulders relaxed.
They weren't her friends.
Not yet.
But maybe she wasn't alone.