The lecture hall buzzed with the low hum of voices, the air thick with the restless energy of students waiting for the professor to begin. Wang Meilin slipped into a seat near the back, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. She always preferred the shadows—quiet corners where she could observe without being observed.
The professor shuffled papers at the front. “Alright, class. Your mid-term assessment will be a group project. You’ll work in pairs or trios to create a multimedia presentation: photography, interviews, and research. It’s designed to test collaboration as much as creativity.”
A ripple of groans swept across the room. Meilin bit her lip. Group projects were her personal nightmare. She’d always been the invisible one, the one who did the work in silence while others took the credit—or worse, the one no one wanted in their group at all.
She began scribbling nervously in her notebook, praying she wouldn’t be left stranded.
“Groups will be assigned,” the professor continued, scanning his list. “No negotiations. This is about working with different personalities.”
Meilin’s heart sank. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.
“Wang Meilin… Feng Yichen… Tang Haoran.”
Her pen froze mid-stroke.
She looked up in disbelief. Surely she’d misheard. But no—the professor’s calm voice had confirmed it. Her group partners would be none other than the two most popular boys on campus.
From across the room, Haoran let out a low whistle. “Well, well, looks like we’re teammates, Camera Girl.” His grin was so wide Meilin thought her heart might stop.
Meanwhile, Yichen simply adjusted his glasses, offering the faintest nod in her direction. “I’ll handle scheduling,” he said coolly, already making notes.
Meilin wanted to melt into the floor.
---
They gathered at a corner table after class, the contrast between her two partners so sharp it made her head spin. Haoran sprawled across his chair, legs stretched out, tapping his pen against the desk in restless rhythms. Yichen, in contrast, sat perfectly upright, notebook open, handwriting precise and neat.
“So,” Yichen began, “the project requires us to capture different perspectives of student life. I suggest we divide the roles. Wang Meilin, you focus on photography. Tang Haoran, perhaps you handle interviews—you’re… personable.”
Haoran snorted. “Personable? You mean I talk too much.”
Yichen didn’t look up. “I meant you’re outgoing. It will be useful.”
“Uh-huh.” Haoran leaned forward, smirking. “And what about you, Mister Perfect?”
“I’ll handle the written analysis and final editing,” Yichen replied smoothly.
Meilin watched them volley words back and forth, her anxiety rising. She cleared her throat softly. “I-I can help with interviews too, if needed…”
Both boys turned to her at once.
“No,” Yichen said firmly. “Photography suits you. You capture details others overlook.”
“Yes,” Haoran added, grinning. “Besides, you look cute with a camera in your hands.”
Meilin nearly dropped her pen. Her cheeks burned, and she ducked her head to hide it.
---
Later that afternoon, they set out to brainstorm topics around campus. Meilin trailed a step behind as Haoran bounded ahead, pointing at students lounging under trees, couples sharing snacks, clubs practicing routines.
“See? Campus life is alive everywhere!” Haoran exclaimed, snapping random shots with his phone camera, most of them blurry. “This stuff writes itself.”
Yichen frowned. “Focus. We need structure. Meilin, do you have ideas?”
Meilin hesitated. Speaking up never came easy. But when both sets of eyes turned toward her, expectant, she forced herself to answer. “Maybe… instead of just events, we could capture everyday moments? Like… the way people laugh when they’re with friends. Or how the campus looks in the rain. Small details that show real life.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Haoran grinned, teeth flashing. “See? Knew she had something special. Way better than my blurry selfies.”
Yichen’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “Good idea. It adds depth.”
Meilin’s pulse raced. For once, her words had mattered.
---
They stopped by the courtyard fountain to plan further, and that was when the shadow she dreaded most appeared. Wang Yuxi.
“Meilin! Oh, there you are.” Yuxi’s voice rang sweetly across the courtyard, drawing several heads. She floated toward them, books clutched delicately to her chest, her smile fragile and angelic.
Meilin’s stomach tightened.
“Oh, you’re with… Feng Yichen and Tang Haoran?” Yuxi blinked innocently, her gaze flicking between the boys. “What a coincidence. I was just looking for a group myself.”
Haoran chuckled. “Sorry, Princess, this group’s already locked in.”
Yuxi’s lips curved in a pout so perfect it could have been rehearsed. “Oh… how unlucky. Meilin always gets such wonderful opportunities.” She reached out, brushing imaginary dust off Meilin’s shoulder. “You’ll do great, sister. Just don’t mess it up.”
The words were soft, but sharp enough to cut.
Meilin froze, shame flooding her chest. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Yichen’s gaze lingered on her, expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. “We should continue planning.” His voice was even, but there was a firmness that left no room for Yuxi to linger.
Haoran, less subtle, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve got work to do. Run along, Drama Queen.”
Yuxi’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before she turned, floating away with her usual grace.
Meilin exhaled shakily, wishing she could vanish.
---
By the time they finished planning, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange. Meilin walked beside them silently, camera heavy against her hip. She felt caught between two worlds—Haoran’s reckless brightness, Yichen’s calm gravity—and the familiar darkness of her step-sister’s shadow.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Haoran said suddenly, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Your step-sis thrives on messing with people. Ignore her.”
Meilin blinked at him, startled. “I… I’ll try.”
Yichen adjusted his bag strap, his voice lower but steady. “You don’t have to prove yourself to her. Just focus on the work. You have talent.”
Meilin’s chest tightened. Both of them—so different, yet both reaching her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.
She lifted her camera almost instinctively, snapping a photo of the sunset reflected in the fountain. The boys paused, glancing at her curiously.
“Another moment captured?” Haoran asked, grinning.
“Yes,” Meilin murmured, lowering the camera. Her cheeks warmed, but this time she didn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.
Somehow, she knew this project was going to change everything
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