My name is Lucy. I’ve just moved to K City from X City with my mom and my older brother. Mom’s a nurse, always running night shifts. My brother goes to F.I.T.E College and juggles part-time jobs to help support us. And me? I’m a high school student. This is my final year.

Today was my first day at H.S.K. High School.

I stood in front of the towering school gate, heart pounding like it was trying to break free from my chest. The building looked so much bigger than my old school. Everything felt unfamiliar — louder, colder, judgmental. The second I stepped inside, I could feel it — dozens of eyes piercing right through me. I get it, I’m new... but seriously? I’m not some alien dropped from the sky.

As I walked down the hallway, trying to ignore the stares, I suddenly bumped into someone.

She stopped, glaring at me like I’d just spilled coffee on her thousand-dollar designer bag. She looked flawless — like a model straight out of a fashion magazine. Makeup on point, perfect posture, lips curled in disgust. And behind her stood two other girls, practically acting like bodyguards. They didn’t speak, but their glares did all the talking.

I blinked and quickly apologized, not wanting any trouble. But before I could get away, I heard her voice slicing through the hallway.

“How dare you bump into me! And run away?!”

I didn’t stop. I just walked faster, praying I’d never see her again.

Spoiler alert: I did. Very soon.

After a short meeting with the principal, I followed my new class teacher to my classroom. She looked serious — the kind of teacher who’d give detention for breathing too loudly. When we entered, she introduced me to the class and asked me to do the same.

I stood in front of a room full of strangers. Cold stares. Fake whispers. Disinterest. And then my eyes landed on her.

The girl from earlier — standing like a queen at her throne. Of course she’s in my class. And her minions too.

I finished my intro quickly and took the empty seat at the very back. Alone. Great start.

After surviving a painfully long hour of history, the bell finally rang for break time. While I was still trying to process the fact that I might have entered a teenage soap opera, I saw her again. She had a crowd around her, laughing at whatever came out of her lip-glossed mouth. Everyone adored her. Like she ruled the entire school.

First day and I was already in her bad books. Perfect.

I dragged myself to the canteen. No one talked to me. No one even tried. But I was used to eating alone, so it didn’t bother me as much as it should. I bought a sandwich and juice, found an empty seat, and recharged my energy. I was going to need it to survive Queen Shini and her court.

That’s her name — Shini. And her two shadows? Simi and Niti.

After lunch, I walked back into class. That’s when I heard it.

“I heard she pushed Shini.”

“Seriously? How arrogant.”

“She doesn’t even look sorry.”

Wow. That escalated quickly. People already had a whole story about me and none of it was true. I didn’t even touch her! But sure, believe whatever fantasy makes your day more interesting.

I didn’t respond. Just walked past them like I couldn’t hear a thing.

If they’re so quick to judge a stranger without even knowing her name properly, then no thanks. I’d rather sit alone than beg for fake friendships.

Finally, school ended. I packed my bag and left, exhausted but glad it was over. With no one at home — mom on duty, brother probably at work — I stopped by McDonald’s to get something to eat. Burger, fries, and coke — the cure to my mentally drained soul.

After packing my food, I stepped out. The street outside was quiet, a little too quiet for this time of day.

And then... I heard something.

A faint sound. A whisper? A footstep?

I stopped walking. Turned my head slightly. The sound came again — from the narrow alley beside the building.

I stood there, frozen.

It wasn’t over yet.

Not even close.

After I packed my lunch and stepped out of McDonald’s, the streets were unusually quiet. The sun was still out, but something about the silence made my skin prickle. I adjusted my bag and started walking toward home.

That’s when I heard it.

A scream.

“HELP!! HELP!! SOMEBODY, PLEASE!!”

A boy’s voice. Small. Desperate. Shaking with fear.

I didn’t think twice. I ran. Sprinting down the alleyway beside the main road, dodging a broken crate and a tossed-out bike. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I turned the corner and—

There they were.

A group of boys, maybe five or six of them, surrounding someone on the ground. A young boy — couldn’t be older than ten or eleven. He was curled up like a ball, arms over his head, blood on his lip and bruises already forming on his cheek. One of them kicked him again, laughing like it was a joke.

“HEY!” I shouted, stepping in without hesitation. “You! STOP! How dare you bully that boy?!”

The tallest boy in the group turned, eyebrows raised in amusement. He looked me up and down like I was just some fly buzzing near his ear.

“And who are you supposed to be? Go away, or we’ll beat you too. Just like we did to him!” He snorted and the rest of them laughed behind him like trained hyenas.

I clenched my fists.

“You wanna hit me?” I said, stepping forward with fire in my eyes. “Fine. Let’s make this fun. I challenge you all. If even one of you can slap me — just once — I’ll do whatever you say. But if you can’t… you apologize to him. And you never bother him again. Deal?”

Their faces shifted — from surprise to confusion to cocky grins.

“You’re on,” one of them said. “Don’t cry when we mess up that pretty face!”

They came at me all at once. Big mistake.

The first one tried to grab my arm — I ducked.

Second one swung for my shoulder — I slid to the side.

Third boy went for a dramatic high-five-to-the-face — I crouched and he spun around like a malfunctioning robot.

They were fast, but I was faster. I didn’t hit. I didn’t touch. All I did was dodge, twist, flip back, lean left, jump sideways. They started bumping into each other, swinging fists in the air like confused pigeons in a thunderstorm.

One tripped over a fallen backpack and crashed into another. Two tried to corner me and ended up bonking heads.

I stood in the center of the chaos, hands in my jacket pockets, smiling like I was in a dance battle.

Ten minutes passed.

They were panting, red-faced, soaked in sweat.

I hadn’t even broken a sweat.

The leader finally groaned and waved his hand in defeat. “Fine! FINE! We’re sorry, okay?!”

They all turned to the boy they had beaten up and apologized in mumbles, eyes downcast.

And then they ran off — limping, huffing, probably questioning all their life choices.

I knelt next to the boy. His knees were scraped, one eye a little swollen, but he was conscious.

“Hey. Are you okay? Can you walk?”

He nodded faintly.

“My house isn’t far,” I said gently. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He followed without a word, limping slightly. When we reached my place, I guided him inside and sat him down carefully. I grabbed the first-aid kit and started treating his wounds. I cleaned the blood from his lip, applied ointment to his scraped arms, and wrapped a bandage over his elbow.

He didn’t speak. Not once.

After cleaning him up, I handed him a pen and paper. “Can you write your parents’ phone number? I’ll call them.”

He scribbled the number quickly and handed it back.

I called. A deep voice answered. I explained everything — that their son had been bullied and that he was safe with me.

The man didn’t ask a single question.

Just said, “Someone will come to pick him up,” and hung up.

No thank you. No concern. No emotion.

I stared at the phone for a few seconds, stunned. Then I looked at the boy again. He was sitting quietly in the corner of my room, hugging his knees, eyes distant. Still hadn’t said a word.

One hour passed.

He still sat there, silent. Like a ghost. A small ghost that had seen too much for his age.

Then — the doorbell rang.

I opened the door. A man in a black suit stood outside.

“I’ve come to pick up the young master,” he said.

I blinked. “Young… master?”

Before I could ask anything else, the boy stood up, walked past me silently, and followed the man out.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

Didn’t even tell me his name.

The door closed. And the silence returned.

I looked at the leftover McDonald’s bag still sitting on the table and finally picked it up. I sat down and ate slowly. Everything felt strange. Like I had just stumbled into some kind of secret world that didn’t belong to mine.

I took a nap. Just an hour. And by the time I woke up, the house was alive again. Mom had returned from her shift, exhausted but smiling. My brother came home, tired but trying to look strong. We all sat together and shared how our days had gone.

I didn’t mention the drama. Didn’t talk about Shini or the whispers or the alley fight.

Just said, “It was normal.”

After dinner, I went to my room. Finished my homework.

And just before I fell asleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

That boy. Silent. Bleeding. Alone.

I don’t know why, but… I saw myself in him.

And I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time I’d see him.

The next morning, I walked into school like I hadn’t just caused a social earthquake yesterday.

New city, new school, and somehow I was already in a cold war with the school queen and possibly her entire royal court. Great.

Then, like some slow-motion scene from a teen movie, he walked in.

Tall. Sharp jaw. Designer shoes. Hair that clearly had more products in it than I had in my whole bathroom. His energy screamed rich, and judging from how the classroom nearly melted the second he stepped in, I figured this was the Lucky.

I’d heard the whispers. His name was everywhere. The DIL family’s only heir. Probably eats gold flakes for breakfast. And, of course — Shini’s boyfriend.

Because apparently, the universe loves clichés.

While I sat there drinking water and trying not to roll my eyes too hard, I saw it — Shini leaning over, whispering to him with her dramatic victim face on.

“Baby! Yesterday that new girl pushed me! I fell down! It was so embarrassing!”

Lucky's face twisted like he’d just heard his Bentley got scratched.

“What?! How dare she?”

And then came the parrots.

“Yes! We saw it all!”

“She didn’t even apologise! She gave this sarcastic little smirk when she walked away!”

Honestly, I should’ve charged them for creating fanfiction about me.

Lucky nodded like a knight accepting a battle quest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let her go unpunished.”

I sipped my water like, Okay Romeo, calm down before your Rolex falls off.

At break time, I was heading to the canteen, already planning my lunch in my head (chicken sandwich, fries, maybe a donut if fate was kind), when I saw something that made me stop.

A girl, small and fragile-looking, had just been pushed. Some girls walked away laughing, and she was left picking up her books from the floor. She looked like she’d cry if the wind blew too hard.

I walked over and offered my hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

She looked up and nodded, tears in her eyes. “Thank you…”

“I’m Lucy,” I said, helping her up.

“I’m Sofia,” she replied, her voice as soft as her smile.

“Well, Sofia, wanna go to the canteen with me? It’s scientifically proven that food solves everything.”

She giggled and nodded.

We sat down and started eating, and she slowly opened up. How she gets bullied, how she never had a friend, how she always eats alone. My heart kind of cracked a little.

Then she said something that hit me right in the feels.

“You’re my first friend in this school.”

I didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled. And took another bite of my fries, because if I spoke, I might’ve gotten too soft. And I wasn’t about to cry over potatoes in public.

On our way back to class, fate decided I hadn’t had enough drama for the day.

Lucky.

Standing there like a fashion ad come to life. Behind him? Shini and her twin cheerleaders, smirking like this was about to be their victory scene.

“You!” Lucky said, stepping in front of me like he owned the air.

“How dare you push my girlfriend?! Do you even know who I am?! What I can do?! Apologise to her. Now. Kneel if you have to!”

I blinked.

Then I smiled.

“I don’t waste time arguing with people who believe their own fairy tales,” I said sweetly. “And if you think I’m going to kneel — dream on, prince charming.”

His eyes twitched. “Don’t test me. I’ll ruin your life if you don’t apologise.”

“Wow,” I said, “Is this how you flirt? Because it’s really not working.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m serious.”

“And I’m seriously bored,” I replied, folding my arms. “I may be the villain in your love story, Lucky, but I’m the hero in mine. So, if you’ll excuse me... I have classes to attend and better people to talk to.”

I walked past him like nothing happened. But I felt the silence. The way his ego cracked. He wasn’t used to being dismissed — especially not by someone who didn’t care about his fancy last name or luxury school bag.

Spoiled rich boy messed with the wrong girl.

After school, I was ready to go home and bury myself in snacks and my blanket when I heard someone running behind me.

“Lucy! Wait!”

I turned. It was Sofia, practically bouncing with curiosity.

“I heard you had a fight with Lucky today!”

“Lucky?” I tilted my head. “Oh, you mean Mr. Spoiled Rich Boy?”

“Don’t call him that!” she gasped. “Don’t you know he’s from the DIL family? They’re like, the richest people in K City!”

“Okay? And?” I shrugged. “If he messes with me, he’s getting messed with right back. I don’t care if his dad owns the moon.”

Sofia’s mouth hung open. “You’re really not scared of them?”

“Nope. If they create problems for me, I’ll just create problems back. And, listen—” I paused, looking her right in the eyes. “Be who you are, not who the world wants you to be. Got it?”

Her eyes lit up. “Got it.”

“I’m heading home. See you tomorrow!” I waved and walked off, my shoes clicking like an outro scene in a K-drama.

Let them talk. Let them plot.

If they wanted drama — I was the whole show