Chapter 32 : The Revelation (2)
At Imperial high
That same morning, after the call with Violet — Andrea, Lucas, Angelo, Dannon, and Clay sat around the long table in the council room.
The air was calm.
Too calm.
Andrea leaned back slightly, his fingers resting against the arm of his chair.
"Have you found her?" he asked, his voice cold.
Lucas nodded.
"Yes. She's been located."
"Where?" Andrea asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"The Delavin Hotel."
Andrea paused.
"A hotel?" he repeated, clearly surprised. "What is she doing there?"
"She's filming," Lucas replied. "An upcoming movie. The hotel has been converted into a filming site."
Andrea's gaze darkened.
"Then make sure you watch her," he said coldly. "Her every move."
"Understood," Lucas answered without hesitation.
Angelo spoke up.
"I heard Principal Aiden plans to send the termination notice to her parents later today."
Andrea's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"When either she or her parents come to sign her out—" he paused, his voice dropping, "—Dannon will handle it."
Dannon straightened slightly.
"Understood."
No further instructions were needed.
The decision had already been made.
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Meanwhile—
Unaware that eyes were now fixed on her every movement,
Clara sat alone in her hotel room.
The phone lay discarded on the floor.
The statement replayed endlessly in her mind.
Her name, Her exposure, Her fall.
She clenched her fists.
She had no idea that the moment she stepped out of line,the net would tighten.
And this time— There would be no escape.
The Crowd has turned hard
The backlash came fast.
Too fast.
By the time Clara managed to pick her phone back up, it was already vibrating nonstop in her hands.
Notifications flooded the screen.
Mentions, Tags, Messages, Missed calls.
Her name was trending.
But not the way she was used to.
Not with praise, Not with admiration.
But with disgust, With anger, With betrayal.
She opened one app,Then another.
Everywhere she looked—it was the same.
#Julia CrescentExposed
#JusticeForViolet
#FakeVictim
#ManipulationQueen
Clara's breathing grew shallow.
"No… stop…" she whispered, scrolling faster.
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Top Comment – 120k likes: A 13-year-old planned something like this? That's terrifying.
User_9811 :How did her brain even come up with such things ? Disgusting.
FormerFan_03: I defended you. I fought people for you. And this is how you repay us, by becoming a criminal?
User_442: And even a grown man helped her, who even is that man. What is her relationship with him?.
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Clara slammed the phone down on the bed.
Her chest rose and fell violently.
"No—this isn't fair," she muttered. "They don't understand.
They don't know what I've been through, no one understands."
The phone buzzed again,She ignored it.
Then again and again.
Finally, she grabbed it, her fingers trembling.
Her private messages were worse:
Manager: We need to talk. Immediately.
BrandRep: Our partnership is on hold until further notice.
AgencyAssistant: Please do not make any public statements.
FanGroup Admin: We're shutting down the fanbase.
Her throat tightened, "No… you can't do this to me," she whispered.
She opened her fan pages, The banners were gone.
Profile pictures replaced with black screens.
Pinned apology drafts from admins.
Comments locked, Some pages had already been deleted.
Her inner circle—the ones who once worshipped her, believing they are the closest to her—were panicking.
InnerFan_Leader: What do we do now? They're asking for explanations.
InnerFan_09: How could Mr hales abandon our Julia like this?
InnerFan_12: Julia, say something. Please. Are you okay?.
Clara stared at the messages.
Her lips parted. But no sound came out.
Right now— She didn't know what to say.
She opened a livestream app, instinctively.
Her finger hovered over the button.
Go live. Say something. Cry. Apologize. Lie again.
But then she saw the numbers.
Dislikes already waiting, she has only few supporters left.
And few isn't enough.
She closed the app.
Her phone slipped from her hand once more.
Clara curled into herself on the bed, nails digging into her palms.
"It shouldn't have been like this, violet is the one who was supposed to be condemned, cursed at, hated ," she whispered hoarsely. "I was supposed to win."
"Why did it become like this". She asked herself
Outside the hotel window, the city moved on. Loud. Unbothered. Merciless.
And for the first time, Clara realized— The crowd that once lifted her up
was the same crowd now tearing her apart.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Soon after the official statement was released, Imperial High made its move.
A formal notice was sent to Joe Crescent and his wife.
The content was brief, cold, and final.
Due to Julia Crescent's actions—her deliberate framing of another student, manipulation of evidence, and involvement in a public scandal—Imperial High would be terminating all affiliations with her immediately.
They were required to attend the school.
Signatures were needed.
No negotiations, No appeals.
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By now, Clara's hypnosis had thinned without her knowledge.
Not broken, But fragile.
For the first time in years, Joe Crescent and his wife reacted the way parents should.
They were angry, They were frightened.
They demanded answers.
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Clara sat on the hotel bed, unmoving, deep in thought,her phone loose in her palm.
The screen lit up.
Father. Mother.
She watched it ring.
Once.
Twice.
Then answered.
"Hello."
"Julia," Joe Crescent said. His voice was low, controlled—but something sharp pressed beneath it. "What did you do?"
Clara's eyes remained fixed on the wall.
"What do you mean?"
"Imperial High contacted us," her mother said. Her words came too fast, breath tight. "They sent an official notice."
Joe continued, the restraint cracking.
"They've expelled you. Completely. We're required to go in and sign the termination documents."
Clara blinked once.
"So?" she said.
The silence that followed was heavy.
"So?" her mother repeated, disbelief seeping in. "Julia, do you hear yourself?"
Joe's voice rose, anger finally spilling through.
"Explain. Now. What happened? What did you do?"
Clara leaned back slowly, the movement deliberate. Calm. Almost bored.
"Don't go," she said.
There it was again.
That same pause.
Too long.
"Julia," Joe said carefully, forcing control back into his voice, "What's do you mean by don't go,this is serious. We have to go. This isn't something we can ignore."
Her mother's voice followed, trembling now.
"We're your parents. You don't get to decide this alone."
Clara's fingers curled slightly around the phone.
They weren't listening, Her chest tightened.
Something was wrong.
She tried again. Her voice sharpened—not loud, but edged with something cold.
"I said—"
She stopped.
Then spoke again.
This time, her voice dropped.
Low.
Commanding.
"Don't. Go."
The air on the other end of the call seemed to… shift.
Joe inhaled.
Then exhaled.
Slowly.
"We won't go," her mother said suddenly. Too suddenly. Her tone smoothed, as if emotion had been wiped away. "It's fine. If they dropped you, others will take you."
"Yes," Joe added. The anger that had filled his voice moments ago was gone. Flattened. "They were unreasonable. We don't need to rush."
Clara's lips curved faintly.
"But…" her mother hesitated, weakly, as if reaching for something she couldn't grasp. "Shouldn't we at least—"
Clara didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
"I said don't go."
The silence stretched.
Longer than before.
When Joe finally spoke, his voice sounded distant. Hollow.
"…Alright."
A pause.
"We won't go today."
Her mother nodded along audibly. "Yes. We won't go, not at all."
"Good," Clara said softly.
The call ended.
Clara lowered the phone.
For a moment, she sat there, staring at the dark screen.
The control was back.
But—
It had resisted
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After a while
she made another call.
This time to Christopher Delavin.
She called once, twice,then thrice.
But there was no answer
"Strange".She thought, then tried again.
This time it rang twice before he answered.
"Clara," he said. His voice sounded… different.
Too clear.
"Did... Did you see the statement?" she asked immediately, making her voice sound teary as if she's been wronged.
"Yes," Christopher replied indifferent.
"And?" Clara pressed. "You know it's all exaggerated. You know how they twist things. They are all just trying to frame me."
There was a pause.
"Clara," Christopher said slowly, "you should apologize."
Her smile vanished.
"…What?"
"You should go public," he continued. "Say you were wrong. Admit what you did."
Clara sat up straight, afraid. This wasn't what she was expecting.
"Christopher, what are you saying," she said softly, "you're supposed to be on my side."
"I am, though I'm not sure why" he replied—but his tone was firm now. "That's why I'm saying this. The evidence is out. The confession is out. Running from it will only make it worse."
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"He is starting to get suspicious"she thought to herself.
"You're telling me to accept fault?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "You should, you've no choice but to."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Clara laughed.
A short, sharp sound.
"You've changed," she said.
"No," Christopher replied. "I think I'm finally seeing clearly."
"Bye".
He ended the call.
Clara slowly lowered the phone.
The room felt colder.
Too quiet.
Her parents had hesitated quite a lot, although they later agreed.
Christopher hadn't listened at all.
Their responses replayed in her mind, again and again.
She stared at her reflection in the dark screen of her phone.
Her grip tightened.
"…No," she whispered.
For the first time since everything began, Clara realized it.
Her hold on them…Was starting to waver.
And that thought—Terrified her.
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An hour later.
After the call with Christopher ended, Clara sat still for a long moment.
Her phone lay beside her on the bed.
The silence pressed down on her chest.
Slowly, she inhaled, Then exhaled.
She forced herself to calm down.
This wasn't the first time things hadn't gone exactly her way.
She had a system, She always did.
Althoug it had been dormant ever since it power weakened.
It was still a system after all, her cheat code.
Closing her eyes, Clara called out inwardly.
"System," she whispered urgently.
"System, are you there?"
Her fingers clenched into the sheets.
"Do you see... Do you see how your hold on them is wavering? What do we do?"
"Everything is starting to get out of control now ".
For the first time, her voice carried unmistakable panic.
A second passed.
Then another.
Finally, the familiar voice responded—lower than usual, strained.
"I know everything host." The system replied
Clara's breath hitched in relief, But that relief didn't last.
"Host," the system continued, "if you are not careful… you are about to lose me too."
Clara's eyes snapped open.
"Lose you?" she whispered. "What do you mean lose you?"
The system's voice sounded… weaker.
"The backlash you are facing is too heavy," it said. "The amount of disfavor and negativity coming from the netizens is directly affecting my power, I feel my power draining...faster."
Clara's heart began to race.
"As your reputation collapses," the system explained, "my influence weakens. That includes the hold I have over your parents… and Christopher."
Her nails dug into her palms.
"At this rate," the system continued coldly, "if you do nothing host—everything will end very soon."
Clara swallowed hard.
"Then… then what do we do?" she asked quickly. "There has to be a way."
There was a brief pause.
Then the system spoke again, slower this time.
"Right now, host," it said, "there is only one option left."
Clara leaned forward.
"What is it?"
The system's answer was quiet.
Deliberate.
"STEAL LUCK."
The words settled heavily in the air.
Clara's lips parted slightly.
Steal… luck?
Her eyes darkened.
And for the first time since the scandal broke— A dangerous thought began to take root.