The semester rolled in like a quiet storm—assignments, practicals, group projects, long nights, and endless pressure.
But Crystal handled everything with the same cold precision she handled life:
Calm. Focused. Strategic.
She kept her head down only when she needed to, when it is important… and lifted it only when it mattered.
Every morning before lectures, Crystal went to the design lab—sketching silhouettes, cutting fabrics, stitching trials, constructing details people twice her level couldn't imagine.
Her talent grew sharper.
Her presence stronger.
Her name louder.
People from elite families began to notice her.
Sons of diplomats.
Daughters of CEOs.
Trust-fund kids who only associated with their own kind.
They smiled when she approached.
Held doors open.
Invited her to their tables.
And Crystal accepted every opportunity calmly.
Not because she cared for them…
…but because she had a future to build.
A fashion brand.
A design studio.
A name fierce enough to shake the industry.
And she needed connections.
Ethan Thatcher was perfect for that.
Soft-hearted.
Wealthy.
Influential.
Deeply smitten.
Crystal didn't accept his confession.
She didn't reject him either.
She simply played along—like dancing to a slow song she didn't like but needed to glide through.
She smiled.
She laughed.
She let him walk her to class.
Not because she wanted him…
…but because Crystal had learned to use the world before it used her.
But not everyone admired her rise.
Among the senior Fashion Design students was Verena Maddox—daughter of a luxury boutique owner, campus idol, arrogant, stunning, and dangerously competitive.
Verena had ruled the department long before Crystal arrived.
Until Crystal started doing everything better.
A fresher outshining her in:
Creativity
Social connections
Designs
Influence
And worst of all…
Ethan's attention
Ethan, who never looked at anyone twice…
Ethan, who dismissed Verena for years…
Was suddenly orbiting Crystal.
It humiliated her.
It ignited something poisonous inside her.
And Verena Maddox was not the type to watch her crown slip.
She wanted Crystal gone.
But Crystal…
Crystal was no fool.
She saw the glares.
Heard the whispers.
Felt the tension.
And she didn't mind.
In fact…
Crystal also wanted Verena gone.
But she wasn't about to make the first move.
Let Verena come to her.
Let Verena start the war.
Crystal would end it.
Deep within the older part of campus was a small, secluded study room.
Almost abandoned.
Silent.
Hidden.
Crystal used it more than anyone else—her place of peace, creativity, and escape.
One evening, she entered the room with her sketchbook, humming softly.
She didn't know Verena had been watching her for days.
She didn't know Verena had studied the room's weak points.
She didn't know Verena had locked all the windows behind her…
Until she heard the faint click of the door.
Crystal froze.
Then she heard the rustle.
The scrape.
The tiny glass ball rolling across the floor.
Tch…
Tear gas.
Her eyes watered immediately as smoke filled the air, stinging her lungs.
Verena's muffled voice came from outside:
"Let's see you win after this."
Crystal coughed.
Choked.
And then…
She smiled.
A slow, cold, unbothered smile.
"Too soft-hearted," Crystal whispered hoarsely.
"For someone trying to get rid of me."
Her fingers trembled—then steadied—as she reached into her bag, pulled out a small lighter she used for fabric-burn testing…
…and flicked it.
A spark.
A flame.
The old curtains caught immediately.
Then the paper on the walls.
Then the wooden shelves.
Crystal stepped back, watching it grow into a hungry orange beast.
She didn't run.
She didn't scream.
She watched the fire rise.
Watched the trap turn into a disaster.
Watched her brilliant counter-attack unfold.
She covered her nose with her scarf, eyes sharp and unreadable.
Then she whispered:
"Let's see what burns first… the room… or your plan."
She waited.
Calm.
Dangerous.
Unshaken.
Her eyes glowed with reflected firelight as she watched the world around her crumble.
Minutes later, screams tore through the hallway.
"The study room!"
"It's on fire!"
"Somebody call security!"
"Is anyone inside?!"
Students scattered.
Lecturers shouted.
Security alarms blared.
Smoke billowed from the windows.
News raced through the campus like electricity.
But no one panicked more than one person.
Liam was leaving his evening class when he heard the whispers:
"That old study room—"
"It's burning—"
"That fresher girl uses it a lot—Crystal something—"
He didn't hear anything else.
His heart dropped.
His blood froze.
His lungs tightened.
Crystal.
His feet moved before his mind did.
Running.
Shoving.
Panting.
His thoughts were a blur:
No—no—no—no—no—
She can't be inside.
She can't be hurt.
Not her.
Not Crystal—
Fear swallowed him whole.
It was like someone reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart until it cracked.
He ran faster.
Faster.
Faster.
His voice barely reached a whisper, trembling, broken… desperate:
"Nothing must happen to her."
He ran harder.
"Nothing… nothing must happen to Crystal."