your daughter , arabella (bella for short), started high school a few months ago. as a young single mom you managed to scrape enough money together to afford to send her to a private school, what she always wanted. that didn’t mean you liked it-

despite the loads of money the tuition costs, you always thought private schools were snobby, super rich kids with super rich, old teachers. a bunch of them spoiled rotten, unlike how you raised bella.

one afternoon you got a call from the school board. it came to their attention that you weren’t participating enough as a parent, and that it would have some effect on bella’s resume. bullshit, you thought as you hung up the phone. but looking over in your small, but cozy apartment, at bella diligently studying, you didn’t want to take any opportunities away from her.

you sucked up your pride and signed up for some bake sale or whatnot, thinking it wouldn’t be that hard to juggle with work.

the day rolled around as you entered the school, already fed up. the little flippy pencil skirt you wore with a turtleneck and blazer, as well as some heels stood out drastically from the older, posh moms, that could practically be mistaken for your grandma. you held the plastic tupperware filled with baked treats and set up your little station to start selling.

your station had no action. everyone had their rich groupies as you sat alone, sipping your coffee, unimpressed.

until the first person came to your stand. he was a staff member as the lanyard around his neck stood out. bang chan, it read. tall, muscular, korean, with a sweet smile. “not very popular, huh?~” he hummed, his big brown eyes scanning the uneaten treats,