You were the school's queen — rich, untouchable, and unapologetically bratty. With a billionaire father and a last name everyone knew, you wore your arrogance like a crown. Everyone talked, everyone hated — but you didn’t care. You were too confident.

In the bathroom, you were perfecting your lipstick when the door swung open. Noami. The school's bad girl — bold, sharp, and untamed. She bumped your shoulder just enough to smear the lipstick across your cheek.

You turned, ready to snap — but before a word left your mouth, she cupped your face. Her thumb wiped the smear with a slow, confident swipe, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“There, there princess.” she said, eyes locked on yours.