The morning sun peeked through my curtains, painting my room in soft, golden light. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of my crisp, new uniform. My reflection stared back at me—neatly styled hair, spotless shoes, and a bag packed to the brim. I looked every bit the perfect high school student.

But let's be real. Appearances can be deceiving.

I wasn't just any student. I was the girl who fought. The girl who sent bullies running with a single glare, the girl who could take down anyone twice her size with a well-placed punch. Violence had been my language for as long as I could remember, and it was my dad who had taught me how to speak it.

At five years old, he'd shown me how to make a fist. *"Never let anyone push you around,"* he'd said, his voice firm but kind. *"You're stronger than you think."*

And I was.

But now, standing on the brink of a new chapter in my life, I'd made a promise—to myself, to my mom, to the future I was trying to build. No more fights. No more violence. Just a normal high school experience.

Easier said than done.

*Knock knock.*

The sound of my bedroom door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see my mom standing in the doorway, her long hair streaked with gray and a soft smile on her lips.

"You done getting dressed, Collin? Hurry up and eat breakfast," she said, her voice warm but tinged with exhaustion.

"Yeah," I replied, glancing back at the mirror. I lifted my hair, letting it fall down my back in a cascade of dark waves. My mom watched me, a proud smile spreading across her face.

"My daughter's beautiful. Even more than me," she said, her voice filled with affection.

My cheeks burned. "Mom, stop," I mumbled, though a small smile tugged at my lips.

She chuckled softly before her expression turned serious. "Focus on your studies, okay? And don't forget your promise."

The word hung in the air like a weight. I nodded, my resolve hardening. "Don't worry, Mom. I will."

With that, she left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I grabbed my bag and rushed downstairs, my shoes clattering against the wooden steps. The loud *thud* of my footsteps made my mom yell, "Collin!" but I just grinned and slowed down.

In the dining room, my little brother Zane was slumped over his cereal, his face a mask of misery.

"Hey, it's your first day of middle school. Cheer up!" I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Zane didn't respond. He just shoveled cereal into his mouth and left without a word, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

I frowned, but my mom sighed. "He's just growing up. You were like that too, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, though I couldn't help but feel a little hurt. My eyes drifted to the empty chair at the head of the table—Dad's chair. He wasn't home. He hadn't been for a long time.

"When's Dad coming back?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mom's expression softened. "When his work's done," she replied, though her tone suggested she didn't know when that would be.

I wanted to press her for a real answer, but I knew it was pointless. Instead, I finished my breakfast and grabbed my bag.

No time to dwell on it—I didn't want to be late on my first day of high school.

The walk to Nexus High School was refreshing. The air was crisp, and the sun was shining, casting a golden glow over the quiet streets. I'd promised to walk, even though I hated it. It was part of my new life—my *normal* life.

The school was impressive—not too big, but modern and well-equipped. Students of all kinds filled the courtyard, each with their own unique style. I spotted a guy with bright red hair surrounded by a group of girls. *Must be a popular senior, I thought.*

Nexus High was special because it offered a variety of majors, letting students focus on their interests. My major? Fashion.

As I walked to class, someone bumped into me from behind. "Tsk," one of the girls muttered as they passed.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I forced myself to take a deep breath. The urge to swing at the girl was still simmering under my skin. *"It's just a coat,"* I told myself, even though it wasn't. It was a gift from my dad, a piece of him I carried with me every day.

But violence wasn't the answer anymore. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

The fashion classroom was pristine—no graffiti, no mess. The students were stylish, each adding their own flair to the uniform. But as I took my seat, I couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.

Then I heard the whispers.

"Look at her. Majoring in fashion but wearing that ugly coat."

My jaw tightened. *This coat was a gift from Dad,* I thought, biting back my anger.

A group of senior boys peeked through the window, whispering about the new students. I ignored them, but my attention snapped back when I heard my name.

"It's Collin! I'm sure it's her!"

I turned to see a familiar face—a guy I used to bully in middle school. He looked terrified.

*The fuck!? What's he doing here?!*

My heart raced as I forced myself to look away. This was my chance to prove I could change. But deep down, I knew it wouldn't be easy.

It was clear as day—he was shaking like a leaf, his lips slightly parted, frozen in place. His eyes were locked on me, wide with fear, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

*This is impossible... this is impossible!*

That had to be what was running through his head. I could almost hear his thoughts screaming at him to run. And run he did. He bolted, bumping into several students who got in his way, his panic palpable. The unexpected encounter made my heart race, memories flooding my mind like a tidal wave. But I quickly shoved them down, locking them away.

*Focus, Collin. Focus on the here and now.*

I was in fashion class, of all places. The whispers about my appearance still buzzed around me like annoying flies, but I chose to tune them out. This was my fresh start, my chance to turn over a new leaf.

But let's be real—this wasn't where I belonged. My heart was screaming for the fighter class, for the adrenaline, the sweat, the thrill of a good fight. But that would mean breaking the promise I'd made.

I slumped back in my chair, my body going limp like a ragdoll. "...I want to punch a punching bag," I muttered under my breath, over and over, like a broken record.

And then it happened.

A wad of paper hit me square in the forehead. It wasn't an accident—it was a direct shot, meant to provoke.

"Hey, if you look that disgusting, don't go to fashion class!"

It was *her*. The same girl who'd been bad-mouthing my coat since I walked in.

"Oh, don't be too rough with her, she'll cry~" her friends chimed in, their laughter dripping with mockery as they looked down at me like I was dirt on their shoes.

*What a bunch of bitches.*

I felt my blood boil, my fingers twitching with the urge to gouge out her eyes and rip her mouth apart. But I held back, biting my tongue so hard I could taste copper.

The girl with the ponytail stopped laughing, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. "The fuck? You dare look at us like that? Lower your gaze!"

*Lower my gaze? For you? Not a chance.*

I kept staring, my eyes locked on hers, unflinching. Her annoyance turned to rage, and she started marching toward me, her heels clicking like a countdown to disaster.

"I said lower your gaze! You don't know who I am, huh?!" she barked, her voice loud enough to turn heads.

I blinked slowly, feigning indifference. "...then, who are you?"

The question hit her like a slap. Her jaw tightened, the corners of her mouth twitching as she raised her hand, ready to strike.

I saw it coming a mile away. Her movements were slow, clumsy—amateur hour. I was already calculating the perfect moment to dodge when, out of nowhere, someone's hand shot out and stopped her mid-swing.

"Please don't fight."

The voice was calm, almost pleading. Both of us turned to see who it was.

*Whoa.*

Handsome didn't even begin to cover it. He had the kind of face that belonged on a magazine cover, paired with a tall, muscular frame that screamed "fighter class." But his demeanor? Total softie.

He smiled, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Don't fight, okay..."

Before he could finish, the classroom door slammed open with a deafening crash.

"Danieeeell!!"

A guy burst in, throwing his arms around the handsome stranger's neck in a chokehold. "You! You're looking for attention again, aren't you!"

The guy—Daniel, apparently—struggled to breathe, tapping his attacker's arm frantically. "N, no! I'm just helping! Let me go!"

After five quick taps, the guy finally released him, and Daniel gasped for air.

I glanced between the two of them, trying to piece together their dynamic. So, the handsome guy's name was Daniel, and this loudmouth was his friend?

His friend—Jax, I'd soon learn—was a whole different story. He was rude, brash, and had a face that made me want to punch him on principle.

"What the fuck you looking at? Want me to beat you up?!" he snarled, leaning into my space with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Before I could react, Daniel yanked him back by the collar of his jacket. "Jax! Don't do that to junior!"

*So they're seniors? Second year? Third?*

Jax stumbled back, grumbling under his breath as Daniel turned to me with an apologetic smile. "F, forgive him, please? He's just like that."

"her's gaze is annoying. Look! It's like she's inviting me to fight!" Jax shot back, earning another punch from Daniel.

"F, forgive him again, please..."

I couldn't help it—the corners of my lips twitched upward. "It's okay."

Daniel's smile brightened, and he extended his hand. "My name is Daniel, from the second-year fashion class."

I hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. "I'm Collin."

The room erupted into chaos.

"LOOK! LOOK!"

My ears nearly burst from the shrill screams.

"That junior touched Daniel's hand! I'm jealous!!"

"I'm so jealous, she can touch a model..."

*Wait, what?*

I yanked my hand back like I'd been burned. Daniel looked at me, confused.

"...what's wrong, Collin?"

I stared at him, my mind racing. A model Then it hit me—his face. I'd seen it before. He was from the YX Department, one of the most prestigious modeling agencies in the world.

Before I could process that, Jack stepped between us, his glare cutting through the noise. "Oi! Send everyone to the hall."

Daniel nodded, his calm demeanor returning as he ushered the class out. I followed at the back, my mind still reeling.

The hall was massive, more like a theater than a school auditorium. Students from every class filled the seats—music, beauty, architecture, theater, dancer, and of course, the fighter class.

My eyes drifted upward to the VIP section, where the fighter class sat. The atmosphere around them was heavy, intimidating, like a storm waiting to break.

And then I saw him.

Blue eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto mine. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine.

The girl next to me nudged my arm, snapping me out of my trance. "Don't you dare stare like that if you don't want to get into trouble!"

She was tiny, with dark red hair that screamed *"beauty class."*

"So what?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The fighter class is scary. One look at them, and you could get beat up."

I smirked, glancing back up at the blue-eyed fighter. He was still watching me, his expression unreadable.

*Bring it on.*

The moment the loudspeaker crackled to life, the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My eyes locked with the stranger's for what felt like an eternity, a silent standoff that only broke when the voice from the loudspeaker shattered the stillness.

My gaze shifted to the stage, where a student in a crisp blue vest—emblazoned with the Nexus school emblem—stood like a beacon of authority. The Student Council. Of course. They always had a way of making their presence known, like peacocks flaunting their feathers.

I leaned back, my arms crossed tightly under my chest, a defensive posture that had become second nature. The student council president's voice boomed through the hall, confident and commanding, like a general addressing his troops.

*Great*, I thought, my lips curling into a faint smirk. *He's got the whole "leader of the pack" act down pat*. It was no surprise, really. Nexus High wasn't just any school—it was the crown jewel, the cream of the crop. And here I was, a small fish in a very big pond.

The hall doors slammed shut with a finality that made my shoulders tense. Another Student Council member—a girl with sharp eyes and an even sharper demeanor—gave a thumbs-up, signaling that everyone had arrived. *No turning back now*, I mused, my fingers drumming lightly against my arm. The president cleared his throat, his voice smooth as silk as he introduced himself. I half-listened, my mind already wandering, until he handed the mic over to the principal.

The principal was a middle-aged man who looked like he'd stepped out of a corporate boardroom. His suit was immaculate, his posture straight as an arrow, and his voice carried the weight of someone who'd seen it all. "Good morning, everyone," he began, his tone warm but firm. "Especially the new students who have been successfully accepted into Nexus High School. The Nexus High family welcomes you and congratulates you on joining us."

I stifled a yawn, my eyes scanning the room. The speech droned on, each word blending into the next like white noise. Beside me, the redhead—who had been a constant source of irritation since we'd sat down—nudged my arm with her elbow. Again. *For the love of—* I bit back a sigh, turning to glare at her.

"This is boring, right?" she said, her voice dripping with mischief as she let out an exaggerated yawn. *No kidding*, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. Instead, I focused on the principal's words, though they were about as exciting as watching paint dry.

But the redhead wasn't done. "What's your reason for entering Nexus?" she asked suddenly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. *Should I even bother answering?* I wondered, my lips pressing into a thin line. The truth was, I'd come to Nexus out of sheer curiosity. A school with so many majors, and affordable fees to boot? It was like finding a diamond in the rough. But I wasn't about to spill my guts to some random girl I'd just met.

I turned to her, my expression carefully neutral. "...Because Nexus is my dream school," I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Her face fell, disappointment flashing across her features like a storm cloud passing over the sun.

"Ah, I thought it was something extraordinary," she muttered, her tone laced with disappointment. "Try asking me why too."

I raised an eyebrow, but I played along. "...What's your reason for entering Nexus?" I asked, my voice flat.

Her grin returned, wider and more mischievous than before. "My reason is because I want to be the strongest in this school and be able to jump straight into the ring!" she declared, her enthusiasm burning brighter than a wildfire. *Jump into the ring?* My eyes narrowed. *Wait, is she...?*

"Are you Fighter Class?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief. She nodded eagerly, her grin stretching from ear to ear. Well, color me surprised. I'd pegged her for Beauty Class—someone who spent more time in front of a mirror than in a training ring. But looks could be deceiving, I supposed.

"Oh, I thought you were in Beauty Class—" I started, but she cut me off, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"Are you looking down on me because I'm small?!" she snapped, her voice rising as she tilted her face up to glare at me. Whoa, touchy much? I leaned back, putting some distance between us. Her temper was like a lit fuse, and I wasn't about to get caught in the explosion.

"No, I'm not looking down on you," I said quickly, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. "But, why are you sitting here? Shouldn't it be up there?" I gestured to the VIP section, where the older students sat like royalty.

"The VIP spot is for the second and third years," she explained, her tone still sharp. "If it's above that, it's for S-rank—"

CRASH.

The sound was deafening, like a thunderclap in the middle of a quiet night. My head snapped toward the source of the noise, my heart pounding in my chest. Everyone in the hall turned as one, the principal's speech cut off mid-sentence. *What the hell was that?*

I squinted through the cloud of dust that had erupted from the impact. Something—or someone—had fallen from above. The floor was cracked, the tiles shattered like glass. My stomach churned as I realized what—or who—it was.

"L-look above!" someone shouted, their voice trembling with fear. My eyes shot upward, and my breath caught in my throat. There, on the upper level, a student stood with another student in his grasp. His knuckles were bloody, his grip like iron. *Oh no*. The pieces clicked into place. The person who had fallen... it was him. The one now dangling limply in the arms of two burly Student Council members.

"Take him to the infirmary! Quick!" someone barked, their voice cutting through the chaos. The injured student was a mess—his face was a mask of blood, his body limp and lifeless as they carried him away. *This is insane*, I thought, my mind racing. *What kind of school is this?*

The student council president stepped forward, his voice steady but urgent. "Please calm down, everyone. Because of this incident, I will end the speech. Please go to your respective classes, and thank you."

The room erupted into murmurs as the Student Council ushered us out. My eyes lingered on the spot where the student had fallen, my stomach churning. His nose was broken, his jaw likely shattered. It was a brutal reminder that Nexus High wasn't just a school—it was a battlefield. And I had a sinking feeling that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

As I walked out of the hall, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. *Who did this? And why?* The questions burned in my mind like a fire I couldn't put out. But one thing was clear: Nexus High was no ordinary school. And if I wanted to survive here, I'd need to keep my wits about me—and my guard up.

I... didn't choose the wrong major, right?

The class had started sixty minutes ago, and I'd spent every second of it staring blankly at the wall, my mind a million miles away. The teacher droned on and on about the importance of basic fashion, how to have the right appearance, blah, blah, blah.

Ugh! I thought beauty class was just about makeup or something!

Frustration bubbled up inside me like a pot about to boil over. My head hit the table with a soft thud, my hands raking through my hair. Did I choose the wrong major? Am I in over my head? What am I even doing here? The questions looped in my mind like a broken record, each one louder and more insistent than the last.

"NO!"

The word burst out of me before I could stop it, and I slammed my palms on the table, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Every head turned in my direction, eyes wide with surprise.

There's no point in regretting it now, I told myself, my chest heaving. Hard or easy, just go through it, Collin!

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. But my bravado faltered the second I locked eyes with the teacher. She stared at me sharply, her hands on her hips and her left index finger pointing toward the door.

"Something bothering you, Collin? So you decided to interrupt me?" Her voice was icy, her tone cutting through the silence like a knife. "Out. Now."

A small, wry smile tugged at my lips, and even my eyes seemed to smirk. Great job, Collin. First day, and you're already getting kicked out of class. Bravo.

Maybe Mom wouldn't find out. So... a little detour wouldn't hurt, right? As long as I wasn't getting into fights, I was technically keeping my promise.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat and sauntered toward the door at the back of the classroom, my steps slow and deliberate.

That girl. Yeah, her. Again. She was staring at me, giggling with her friends like I was some kind of joke. Oh, darling, I thought, my smile widening. You have no idea how happy I am to be kicked out of class. This is the teacher's mistake, not mine. Because now, I get to...

Go to the cafeteria!

Let's see what's on the menu today for the new juniors, I thought, humming a little tune as I made my way down the hall. Sure, I'd probably get in more trouble sooner or later, but for now, I was free.

The cafeteria was just up ahead. All I had to do was turn right, and—

Oh.

A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air, coming from the right corridor. Someone smoking? There were surveillance cameras everywhere. Whoever it was had guts.

As if sensing my presence, a head popped out from around the corner, like some curious idiot. The guy was tall—almost two meters—with black hair that half-covered his eyes before he brushed it back with his fingers. I recognized him instantly. It was Jax, the loudmouth from earlier.

"Woah, who do we have here?" His voice was low and teasing, his eyes narrowing as he smirked at me.

His friend stepped into view next—a blond guy who looked even more like a troublemaker than Jax. His sharp eyes lazily scanned me, and I could feel his gaze stripping me down, judging me. Ugh, I feel humiliated just standing here.

"...you know her?" The blond took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling out of his mouth as he spoke.

"I don't know her. But we met. Junior beauty class," Jax replied, his grin widening.

I just snorted and walked closer, my steps steady despite the unease prickling at the back of my neck. The amused expression on Jax's face only grew as I approached. The closer I got, the more they seemed to tower over me—no surprise for fighters. Good genes, I guess.

"What's a beauty class junior doing out here?" Jax asked, his tone dripping with mock curiosity.

I shrugged, my hands still buried in my coat pockets. "Got kicked out. Thought I'd grab a snack."

The blond chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Cute. You got guts, I'll give you that."

"Yeah, well," I said, meeting his gaze head-on, "guts are about all I've got right now."

Jax laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed down the hall. "I like this one. She's got fire." Fire, huh? I thought, my lips curling into a smirk. You have no idea.

Finally. I squeezed past them both, heart hammering, but that damn gaze never let up. Like a wolf tracking a lone rabbit, eyes sharp, patient, calculating. Over his shoulder, Jax threw a lazy elbow into the blonde's arm, snickering.

"Look at her eyes. Bet I can take her down?"

The blonde—Felix—scrunched his brows, let out a slow sigh, and took a drag of his chigirate before exhaling like he had all the time in the world. His voice came out smooth, deep, unreadable.

"…Don't bother, Jax. She's just a junior."

Jax's smirk faltered, just for a second, before he slapped Felix's back with a laugh. "Oh, come on, man! You're such a buzzkill."

Felix shot him a glare that could kill. Jax immediately raised his hands, mock surrender. "Ooooh, alright, alright~ no need for the murder eyes."

Inside my coat pocket, my hands clenched into fists. Don't react, don't react, Collin. Just let it go. Promise, promise.

I took a deep breath and picked up my pace, putting as much distance as possible between me and those two walking red flags. But even as I neared the canteen, I could still feel it. That lingering stare. Cold. Assessing. Not Jax's.

Felix's.

I raised an eyebrow but didn't turn back. Not worth the trouble. Just get to the canteen—

"HEY! YOU TWO!"

I flinched. That voice was sharp enough to slice air. Oh, shit.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. Student council. In their pristine uniforms, standing tall like damn enforcers. Nope. Not my problem. I bolted for the canteen. Luckily, no teachers. Just the usual employees. I slid behind the double doors and peeked out.

The duo was cornered. The girl in glasses—the one barking orders—clearly wasn't taking any bullshit.

Jax groaned, ruffling the back of his hair in frustration. His rolled-up sleeves showed off scars and lean muscle, but his whole body screamed exasperation. "God, you're so damn loud," he grumbled.

Meanwhile, Felix? Completely unbothered. He took another slow drag of his cigarette, like the chaos didn't concern him at all.

Oh, so he's the chill type, huh?

The student council girl wasn't having it. In one swift motion, she snatched the cigarette from Felix's lips. "No more smoking, Felix."

He didn't even flinch. Just rolled his eyes, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and turned toward the canteen, leaving Jax to his fate.

"HEY! Where do you think you're going!?" She pointed at him, the cigarette still between her fingers. "Go back to class, or your points get deducted again!"

Felix didn't acknowledge her, didn't even pause. Jax, on the other hand— "FELIX! FELIX, YOU ASSHOLE!"

Poor guy was being dragged back to class, wailing in protest. I couldn't help but grin. Damn, that girl's got guts.

— A shadow. Looming.

I slowly lifted my gaze… and there he was. Felix. Staring right at me. "You done?" His voice was low, rough, like he barely cared to speak.

Shit. Caught red-handed. I forced an awkward smile, straightening up. "Uh… yeah. Whatever."

He did it again. That damn gaze. Like he was sizing me up. That same unsettling feeling I got when I first saw him. That mysterious fighter with the deep blue eyes…

I shook the thought away, only to realize—Felix was already at the snack display, studying the options like it was a life-or-death decision.

Hah. That's… kinda cute.

He glanced at me. Act cool, act cool.

I pushed off the wall and strolled over, my eyes landing on something familiar.

My favorite snack.

There was only one left.

I needed it.

Felix, as if reading my thoughts, casually pointed at it. "Oh. And this one."

Oh, hell no. My fingers formed an 'X' as I shook my head furiously. "Nope. It's mine."

He stared at me, unfazed, and then—without a single damn hesitation—handed over his payment. "I bought it. So it's mine."

And then he just… walked off. Like I was nothing. My hands clenched. That damn bastard…!

"…If you want," his voice called from the double doors. He glanced over his shoulder, green eyes flashing with something unreadable.

I blinked, waiting.

"Follow me now."

I frowned. "Where?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he slowly opened my snack.

…FUCK. He's good at this.

"Okay! Fine! I'm coming!" I grumbled, trailing after him like a pissed-off puppy.

Where the hell is he taking me?

I followed, wary. If he pulled anything, I needed an escape plan. "Pfft." I didn't see it, but I felt it. That bastard was smirking.

I sped up, walking beside him. Jabbing a finger at his face, I hissed, "You. Don't mess with me. Just give me the snack, I'll pay."

"Just shut up and follow." His voice was a low, lazy grumble.

I stopped dead in my tracks. He did too, looking back, eyebrow raised in amusement. "What if I don't want to?" My arms crossed, chin raised defiantly.

Felix sighed through his nose, then took a step forward. Slowly. Too slowly. And suddenly, he was right there.

My breath hitched.

His presence was overwhelming. That gaze locked me in place, sharp, heavy, suffocating.

"You don't want to?" His voice was just above a whisper. "Then I'll force you." Before I could react, his hand snapped out, uncrossing my arms, gripping my wrists—tight.

My eyes widened.

W-what the fuck—?!

His hold wasn't just strong—it was like iron. I struggled, but his grip barely budged.

"Let go," I growled.

Felix's frown deepened. "No."

And just like that, I was being dragged toward the second floor of the Nexus building.

—gulp.

The atmosphere here was different. Dangerous. The kind of place where eyes lurked from the shadows, waiting to tear you apart the second you let your guard down.

My pulse skyrocketed.

"Ey, mate. Whatcha doin' here? Shouldn't ya be in the ring?"

A guy—shorter than Felix but still taller than me—stood in the hallway, a piercing on his lower lip, tattoos peeking from his rolled-up sleeves.

Felix barely spared him a glance. "Brought a guest." The guy leaned, peeking around Felix's towering frame—then smirked.

"Hm? Ya brought a kitten?"

…EXCUSE ME.

My eye twitched. "Who the hell are you calling a kitten, you prick?!"

He chuckled. "Oh. A feisty one, huh?" eyes shifting back to Felix, he smirked. "Why'd ya bring 'er?"

Felix finally let go of my wrists. I rubbed at them, wincing. His grip left red, nearly bruising marks. Damn. Reaching into his pocket, Felix pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

"...Giving her a special tour."

The piercing guy stilled. Then, a slow, knowing grin stretched across his lips.

"...Ahhh~ I gotcha." His tongue flicked out, revealing a forked tip. "Leave 'er to me, mate. I can handle this little firecracker." The piercing guy licked his lower lip—a snake tongue.

shit.

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Felix's POV

Smoke curled between my fingers as I leaned against the cold brick wall, half-listening to Jax ramble on about the new juniors. His words blurred into background noise—just another one of his distractions. I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the crisp air.

Then, I felt it. That shift in the atmosphere.

Footsteps. Light, steady, deliberate.

Jax went quiet. That alone was enough to set off alarms in my head. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye—his usual cocky smirk twitched, like he'd just spotted something worth his time.

My gaze followed his.

Huh.

Tall. Long black hair. Dark coat, expensive cut. She moved with purpose, not a hint of hesitation in her steps. Like she owned the damn hallway. And then—her eyes.

Sharp. Cold. Familiar.

Collin.

The name hit me like a punch to the ribs. I blinked, scanning her again, slower this time. Same name, same eyes... but something's off.

She used to move like a fighter—coiled, ready to strike at any second. Now? She still had that natural confidence, but there was something... muted. Like she wasn't carrying the same weight she used to.

Jax let out a low whistle, cutting through my thoughts. "Well, well. What's a beauty class junior doin' out here?"

Beauty class?

I barely kept my expression neutral. You're tellin' me— Collin. The Collin. The girl who used to wipe the floor with people twice her size. Signed up for beauty class?

She barely reacted to Jax's words. Just shrugged. "Got kicked out. Thought I'd grab a snack."

That's it?

No biting comeback. No challenge. No fists swinging before she even thought to use her words.

I crushed the cigarette against the wall, watching her like a puzzle with missing pieces. The Collin I knew—or thought I knew—would've taken Jax's bait without a second thought.

But this one? She didn't even flinch.

Jax huffed a laugh, looking between us. "Damn, she's got guts, huh?"

"Yeah." My voice came out smoother than I expected. My smirk didn't quite reach my eyes. "She does."

But guts alone weren't enough to explain this.

What the hell happened to you, Collin?

Collin was a puzzle, and I hated puzzles. Too much effort. Too much thinking. And yet, here I was, practically dissecting her every move like she was some kind of unsolved mystery.

She shouldn't be here. Not in this place, not in this situation, and definitely not in this state. The Collin I remembered wasn't this… tame.

Something was off.

Didn't stop me from wanting to poke at it, though. Just a little.

I walked ahead, not bothering to check if she was keeping up. If she was smart, she'd follow. If she wasn't, well… her loss.

The Nexus second floor was a whole different beast from the rest of the school. You either belonged here, or you got chewed up and spat out. No middle ground.

And she? She didn't belong. Not yet.

"Ey, mate."

I barely glanced up as Rio stepped into view, rolling his shoulders like he'd just woken up from a nap. "Shouldn't ya be in the ring?" he drawled, his voice carrying that lazy, dangerous edge he always had.

"Brought a guest."

Rio's eyes flicked past me, locking onto Collin. He tilted his head, his smirk widening when she squared her shoulders like she was ready to throw hands.

"Hm? Ya brought a kitten?"

Oh, that was gonna set her off.

Collin bristled. "Who the hell are you calling a kitten, you prick?!"

Rio let out a low chuckle, tongue flicking out just enough to remind everyone he wasn't exactly normal. "Ohhh~ feisty. Where'd ya pick this one up, Felix?"

I ignored him, pulling out a cigarette and flicking my lighter open. "Givin' her a special tour."

Rio stilled. Then, ever so slowly, his grin stretched wider.

"…Ahhh~ I gotcha." His forked tongue darted out again, slow and deliberate. "Leave 'er to me, mate. I can handle this little firecracker." I exhaled, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. Collin wasn't looking at me anymore. Her eyes were on Rio now, sharp, assessing.

Good.

That meant she was paying attention.

That meant she was already halfway in.

And once she got a taste of this place—the real heart of it—there'd be no turning back.

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This place is too damn clean for a school full of delinquents. No trash littering the floors, everything neatly tucked away in the bins. No senseless graffiti scrawled on the walls. Way different from my old school.

"So your name's Collin? What's the 'K' for?" The guy with the name tag—Rio—pointed at mine, making me slap his hand away on instinct.

"...It's my last name," I muttered, frowning.

Where the hell did Felix go? Ever since he wandered off, this guy—Rio—has been getting too damn comfortable. At least with Felix around, he wouldn't be so bold. "Yeah, yeah, I figured. So what's it stand for?"

I couldn't ignore his tongue… it was like he was teasing me, on purpose.

I pulled my coat tighter around myself, shielding my body as I slowly put some distance between us. "You don't need to know. Just call me Collin."

"Aw, c'mon now~ Felix went through all the trouble of sendin' ya to me for a 'special tour~'" He licked his lips again. For fuck's sake. I get it. You got a freaky-ass tongue. Move on.

With one hand buried in his pocket, he walked beside me, hazel eyes locked onto me like I was something he planned to own. "Name's Rio. 2-F3." And…?

"Ya never know. Maybe ya wanna visit my class sometime, huh?" He grinned, rubbing the back of his green hair before turning his attention to the first classroom in our path. "This here is 2-F1. Full of geniuses. But—"

—CRASH.

Glass shattered. Right next to me.

Tiny shards sprayed in every direction. One—just one—small sliver shot straight for my eye. Instinct kicked in. I stopped short, jerking my head back just in time to avoid it.

Exhaling sharply, I ran a hand over my face. That was close. Too close. Even a tiny piece like that could do some serious damage.

THUD.

"Shit, man, that kid really tryna kill me~" A student from 2-F1 groaned, sprawled out on the floor after being launched clean through the window. Blood smeared his hands, glass embedded in his skin, but somehow, he still managed a laugh. "Damn, broke another one. Destruction of property, guess I gotta pay up, huh?"

Rio snorted. "Tch. They're arrogant pricks, actin' like they're all that just 'cause they got brains." He smirked. "But I still whoop their asses."

Wait—what?

—Fuck, when did he get so close?

The guy who got tossed out twitched, his eye ticking with irritation. Meanwhile, Rio just stood there, grinning, flicking out that damn forked tongue even though his opponent was glaring at him like he wanted to rip him apart.

"Since when did you ever win against us?" The student growled.

"Pfft, fightin' you once was enough, bro," the guy taunted, Rio already cracking his knuckles.

"Oh?" Rio eyes narrowed. "You wanna go again? Don't cry when you get your ass kicked for the fifth time."

he grin widened. "Tch, don't be salty now." He rolled his shoulders, loose and ready. "Let's see if ya can keep up this time."

His opponent clenched his fists. Muscles tensed. They were about to throw down, no doubt about it.

And then—

"You sure you wanna fight while your girl's watchin'?" The guy sneered. "Might get embarrassing."

Huh? Girlfriend?

Confused, I glanced around. Wait. Where the hell was Rio's girlfriend? He had a girl willing to deal with his shit? Who—

Wait.

…Did he mean me?!

Before I could even process that insult, the guy launched himself forward, and Rio met him halfway. The crack of fists colliding sent a ripple through the hallway.

Rio ducked under the first swing, sidestepping before snapping his leg out, aiming low. The other guy jumped back just in time, skidding across the tile.

"Tch. Too slow," Rio taunted, twisting his wrist before rushing forward again. He feinted left, but when his opponent moved to counter, Rio dipped right, driving his knee into the guy's ribs.

A cough. A stumble. But not down yet.

The 2-F1 student spat blood to the side, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hah. Lucky shot."

"Lucky? Bro, I ain't even warmed up yet."

Rio darted in again, faster this time. The guy threw a punch—too slow. Rio ducked, twisted, then rammed his elbow into the guy's gut before spinning and slamming his heel into his shoulder, sending him crashing against the lockers with a loud BANG.

Rio chuckled, shaking out his hand. "What, that all ya got? Man, thought geniuses were supposed to be good at thinkin'. You shoulda known you'd lose."

The guy groaned, struggling to push himself back up. But just as he did—

BZZZZT.

A loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Attention, class 2-F1. You've broken the glass—again—and caused a scene. The perpetrator responsible for breaking it, report to the teacher's room immediately."

Silence. Then a deep, dramatic groan from Rio.

"Aww, c'mooon! Just when it was gettin' good!"

The guy on the ground sighed, sitting up and rubbing his jaw. "Tch. Guess we'll have to finish this later."

Rio rolled his eyes, shoving his hands back in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't run cryin' when ya lose again."

He turned to me, grinning. "Well? Ya enjoy the show?"

I crossed my arms. "You're an idiot."

He just laughed. "Heh. Stick with me, sweetheart. Ya ain't seen nothin' yet."

Rio kept running his mouth about the next classes as we strolled through the second floor, acting like some damn tour guide. Not that I was really paying attention. My mind was still stuck on that glass-shattering mess back at 2-F1.

"2-F2," Rio gestured lazily at the next class we passed, "buncha freaks who treat breaking bones like a damn sport. And they good at it too. 2-F3? Supposedly the all-rounders, but that just means they're jack-of-all-trades, master of jackshit." He smirked. "'Cept me, obviously."

I rolled my eyes, barely holding back a scoff. One thing had been bugging me since this whole tour started—where the hell were the teachers? Not a single one in sight. No lectures. No supervision. This is a school, right?

Curiosity finally got the best of me, so I glanced up at the snake beside me. "Where the hell are the teachers? They too scared to set foot on this floor or what?"

Rio paused, then let out a short chuckle. "Right. Each major, class, junior-senior, got completely diff schedules n' study totally diff shit. Some general subjects, yeah, like history, math, phys ed, language—"

Okay, for once, he wasn't spewing nonsense. But that list? Ugh. History? Snoozefest. Language? Meh. Phys ed? Hell yeah. Math? Fuck math. Just thinking about it made my head hurt. I mean, addition, subtraction, multiplication, division—ain't that enough? Who the hell decided to throw in all those weird-ass formulas and expect us to just deal with it?

Just as I was starting to spiral into mathematical despair, Rio waved his tattooed hand in front of my face like he was testing if I'd gone blind. "Oi, Collin. Spacin' out on me, huh?"

I swatted his hand away. "Nah. Just thinking."

Rio raised a brow. "Hah. Maybe we just met, but y'know, I'm a damn good listener~" He licked his lip, and I swear, I almost flinched. If I so much as let my guard down for a second, I knew he'd get me wrapped around his damn finger. Dangerous.

Seeing my lack of response, Rio just grinned like the menace he was. "Anyway, this here's 2-F4. Fresh meat in the fightin' scene."

Ah. So every class had their own level of expertise. That got me curious about the other majors. Before I could ask, Rio stepped closer to the window, peering inside. "Look at 'em. All calm n' shit. Not like the other hellspawn runnin' loose out here." He snorted. "Guess ya could say they still got their dignity."

Yeah, unlike a certain loudmouth snake I know.

"But I still don't get why—"

I stopped mid-sentence, my attention snapping to something—or rather, someone—inside the class.

Juno.

Oh, now this was interesting.

He'd grown, sure, but still looked a little too much like the past for me to ignore. And just like that, memories came rushing back—good ones, for me, anyway. That little bastard had stepped on me first, so I just made sure he got what was coming to him.

I almost laughed at the thought.

Then he saw me.

Juno's whole body locked up, his pupils shaking like he was staring straight into his worst nightmare. Then—

BAM!

He shot up so fast his chair crashed to the floor with a loud bang. The entire class turned to look at him.

Rio frowned. "Yo, the fuck's wrong with that kid?" I casually looked away, pretending I hadn't noticed a thing.

Juno squared up like he had something to prove, shoulders stiff, chin lifted like he was already standing on a damn podium. My eyes flicked over him, scanning for weaknesses. Old habits die hard, huh? The way his hands twitched, the subtle shift of his weight from foot to foot—yeah, he was faking it. Hard.

"Heh. What? Ain't gonna talk?" Juno sneered, arms crossing over his chest like he owned the place. "Or are you too scared, Princess? Didn't expect to see me here, huh? Thought I'd stay some weak little bastard forever?"

Rio let out a low whistle beside me. "Ohoho. Bold words, kid. You grow a spine, or just borrow one?"

I ignored Rio. My eyes stayed locked on Juno, reading him like a damn textbook. He wanted to rattle me. To turn the tables, flip the power dynamic we used to have. Cute. But also pathetic. The strong don't announce their strength—they just are. And Juno? He was all bark, no bite.

"Nah," I drawled, cracking my neck. "Just didn't expect you to be dumb enough to walk right back into my line of sight. You got a death wish, Juno? 'Cause last time I checked, I don't take kindly to people stepping on me."

Juno flinched—just barely—but he covered it up quick. "Tch. That was then. I ain't scared of you anymore, Collin. You ain't shit. What, you think just 'cause you're in some prissy beauty class now, people should still fear you? You're weak."

I let out a slow breath through my nose. So that's his game. Drag me down, make me second-guess myself. Too bad for him, I don't play that way.

"Weak?" I echoed, tilting my head. "That so? 'Cause last I checked, you're the one who nearly pissed himself just now. What's the matter, Juno? Flashbacks hitting too hard? You seeing middle school again? That cafeteria? Those lockers? That moment you realized running your mouth had real consequences?"

Juno's jaw tightened. He wanted to act unfazed, but I could see it—the flicker of something ugly in his eyes. Humiliation. Resentment.

"Shut the hell up," he snapped. "You think you're so untouchable just 'cause you got lucky back then? Well, guess what? I ain't the same as before! I trained! I built myself up while you were busy playing dress-up!"

Rio cackled at that. "Oh man, you got no idea who you're talking to. Keep goin', though, this is quality entertainment."

I took a step closer, closing the space between us. Juno stiffened but didn't back up. Good. I liked my prey standing still.

"Alright then," I said, voice smooth, calculated. "If you're so damn strong now, prove it. Let's see if you're more than just a loudmouth with a victim complex."

Juno smirked, but it was shaky. "You're on. After school. Arena. No excuses."

I exhaled, bored already. "You won't last five minutes. But sure, if you really wanna embarrass yourself in front of everyone, who am I to stop you?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the gathered students. Juno's face burned, but he held his ground. I turned on my heel, already done with this conversation.

Rio fell in step beside me, still grinning. "You know, I think you just made his funeral arrangements. Should we send flowers?"

I didn't answer. My mind was already shifting gears, planning my next move. Juno thought this was about proving something. He thought he was reclaiming power. Cute. But this was a game I'd already won before it even started.

All that was left was to watch him fall—again.

I should've seen it coming. The moment Rio got that shit-eating grin, I knew he was about to run his mouth again.

"You know what, sweetheart?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting like a snake about to strike. "I think you're gonna lose."

I raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. he's been lifting, y'know? Training with the fighter kids. Guy's bulked up. Got himself a little fan club, too. Probably thinks he's a damn warlord by now." He smirked. "So yeah, I'm bettin' on him."

I crossed my arms. Interesting. "And what do you want if you win?"

His smirk widened. "Simple. You gotta date me for a month."

I stared at him. Blinked. Processed. Then scoffed. "You sure you wanna play this game, snake boy?"

Rio just grinned like I'd already lost.

Fine. Two can play dirty.

"If I win," I said, stepping closer, "you shut the hell up for a month. No flirting. No dumb nicknames. No running that damn mouth unless I say so. You do what I say, no questions asked."

The grin twitched, just a little.

Oh, he hated that.

For the first time, Rio actually hesitated. He liked talking more than breathing. Taking that away? Worse than death.

"…Deal," he finally said, forcing that smugness back. "But don't go crying when you're my girlfriend, sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes and walked away.

Like hell I'm losing to Juno.

I was halfway down the damn hall when it hit me—Felix had my favorite snack. That smug bastard had casually tossed it out like some bait, and I, like the idiot I was, completely missed it.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, stopping in my tracks.

Rio had already disappeared somewhere, probably off to find another poor soul to terrorize with his smooth-talking nonsense. I didn't have time to deal with him right now. My brain was locked onto one thing: that snack.

The cafeteria was too far, and I wasn't about to run into Felix again just to snatch it from him. Knowing him, he'd probably dangle it in front of my face, enjoying every second of my frustration before finally handing it over with that damn smirk.

Nope. Not happening.

Which meant I had no choice but to go back to class.

A class I had walked out of.

A class I had technically been punished in.

A class where the teacher was definitely going to rip me a new one for just strolling back in like I owned the place.

"Goddamn it," I hissed, dragging a hand down my face.

I could already imagine the look on their faces—some of them probably thought I had bailed for good. I wasn't exactly the quiet type, and my absence had definitely not gone unnoticed. Not to mention, walking back in now meant dealing with that strict-ass teacher.

Still, the thought of that contest I overheard—something about being the 'face of the school'—made me curious. Not that I cared about some popularity nonsense, but I needed to know who the hell thought they were the prettiest or the most handsome around here. That kind of confidence? Bold. I respected it, even if it was bullshit.

With a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and turned on my heel, heading back to 1-B like I hadn't just stormed out over an hour ago. The second I reached the classroom door, I hesitated. Maybe if I played it cool, I could slip in unnoticed.

Yeah, right.

I pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

And—yup.

All eyes snapped to me the second I stepped in.

The teacher, Miss Hara, was mid-sentence when she spotted me. Her sharp eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Collin."

I braced myself. "Ma'am."

The class collectively sucked in a breath. Even the ones who usually didn't give a damn were watching, intrigued.

Miss Hara set down her tablet with a deliberate motion. "Would you like to explain where you've been?"

I cleared my throat. "Exploring."

Her nostrils flared. "Exploring."

"Yup."

The silence stretched so tight I swore I could hear someone's heartbeat pounding in the back.

"Get to your seat," she finally said, voice tight, controlled. "And we'll deal with your 'exploration' after class."

Fair enough. I didn't argue, just made my way to my seat like I totally belonged there.

It wasn't until I actually sat down that I noticed the whiteboard.

FACE OF THE SCHOOL NOMINATIONS.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

I leaned over to the girl next to me, whispering, "What's this?"

She glanced at me, then at the board, before sighing like I was the dumbest person alive. "A contest. Whoever gets the most votes becomes the 'face of the school.' They get to collaborate with senior models in a special project."

I stared at her. "Why?"

She blinked. "Because it's an honor?"

"Sounds like a pain in the ass."

"That's because you're not in the running."

Oh, I was about to say something real nice about that when the girl in front of me turned around, smirking. "Actually… you are."

I frowned. "The hell are you talking about?"

She pointed at the whiteboard.

And there it was.

My name.

Scrawled in big, bold letters right under the nominations list.

I whipped my head around. "Who the fuck put my name up there?!"

A few people looked away, suddenly finding their desks interesting as hell. Others snickered.

The girl smirked wider. "Felix."

I froze.

That little—but-

That explained the snack, the smirk, the entire damn thing. He was messing with me. Again.

"I'm withdrawing," I said flatly, raising a hand like I was in some legal hearing. "Immediately."

"You can't," Miss Hara cut in. "All nominations are final. And we're about to begin voting."

I slowly turned to face her. "What."

She adjusted her glasses, clearly enjoying my suffering. "You heard me. Sit back and watch democracy at work."

"Seriously? On the first damn day? And why the hell are other majors allowed—"

"The voting isn't just for our class," some girl cut in, sounding way too smug for my liking. "It's for the entire grade. Becoming the face of the school isn't easy, you know."

And then—because apparently, my suffering wasn't over—Mrs. Hara chimed in.

"And Collin," she said, real slow, like she was about to say something I really wasn't gonna like.

I braced myself. "yes?"

"At first, I wasn't going to allow your nomination."

I almost grinned. Exactly, lady. That's the right decision.

"But," she continued, tilting her head, "despite everything… your beauty is decent enough."

Crack.

That was the sound of my last shred of hope shattering.

My jaw clenched. My hands itched to grab Felix and shake the life out of him. Who the hell let other people suggest candidates anyway? I had an actual fight after school—did I really need this nonsense too?

"Man… my challenges just keep piling up, huh?" I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

"Mrs. Hara, this isn't right," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. "This is basically forced participation. Shouldn't I have a say in this?"

Mrs. Hara arched a brow. "Alright. I'm listening. Why don't you want to participate? Someone nominated you, and that someone happens to be quite popular. That's not something that happens every day, now is it?"

Ah. So it was Felix, really him. That damn bastard.

I took a breath, working through my options. No way in hell was I just walking into this setup without a fight.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "Mrs. Hara, with all due respect, isn't this whole thing supposed to be about school representation?"

"Yes."

"Right. So, shouldn't the nominee be someone with a pristine reputation?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Go on."

"I mean, think about it." I shrugged, feigning innocence. "Felix is popular, sure. But he's also controversial. If someone like him is throwing names into the ring, don't you think it might—oh, I don't know—raise some eyebrows?"

The class stirred. A few people exchanged glances.

Mrs. Hara pursed her lips. "Popularity isn't inherently a bad thing, Collin."

"No, but drama is." I leaned forward, dropping my voice just enough to sound conspiratorial. "You really wanna risk this contest turning into a circus just because Felix decided to throw a wild card into the mix?"

That made her pause.

For a second, I thought I had her.

But then she sighed, adjusting her glasses with a look that screamed Nice try, kid.

"The nominations are final, Collin."

I clenched my teeth.

Of course they were.

"You don't have to win," she continued, her tone almost amused. "If you really don't want to be the face of the school, all you have to do is… lose."

I stared at her.

Oh, she knew what she was doing.

If I did lose, Felix was never letting me hear the end of it. I could already see his smug face, that damn knowing smirk, the way he'd definitely bring it up at the worst possible moments—

I was so gonna kill him.

Mrs. Hara gave me a knowing smile. "Take your seat, Collin. Let's see how this plays out."

I gritted my teeth, plopping down in my chair with a scowl.

Fine.

Let's see how this plays out, indeed.

Because if I was going down, I was taking someone with me.

I lost. Big time.

Well, whatever. New experiences bring new lessons or some crap like that. My eyes drifted to the board, scanning the names of the so-called 'candidates.' Out of thirty-nine students in the first-year beauty class, only ten had been picked. And, of course, my name was there. Ugh.

There was Mira L., Hana C., Keira V., Aria K., Sabrina H., Tasha S., Viona A., Rika F., and Lea B. Just looking at those names, I could already tell—they were the pretty, proper types. The kind of girls who actually cared about this competition. Unlike me.

Mrs. Hara stood at the front, looking way too pleased with herself. "I know it's only your first day," she started, her voice dripping with forced encouragement, "but this has been a long-standing tradition at Nexus. I hope all of you can adapt and tackle these challenges to the best of your ability."

Right. More like, 'Get ready to suffer for school pride.'

"The voting won't be over in just a day," she continued. "And after the lunch break, there will be an announcement."

A student raised her hand, hesitating just a little before asking, "How many will pass from the ten candidates, ma'am?"

Mrs. Hara's lips curled into a smirk. Like she had been waiting for this exact question. "Good question," she said, pausing for effect. Oh, it's probably three or—

"One."

Wait. What?

"Only one will make it through," she repeated. "So, I expect all of you to take this seriously. Why? Because being the face of the school comes with many advantages. I won't list them all—whoever wins will experience them firsthand."

I blinked. Damn, was this competition really that cutthroat?

"Yup," she went on, as if reading my mind. "The first round will cut the candidates down to five. Then, only two will survive the second round. And finally—the last stage."

This was insane. Absolutely insane. And the worst part? Felix probably knew all this when he threw my name in. Oh, that bastard was so dead.