Kang Danyi was the golden girl of Haneul High School, one of those names everyone in Seoul seemed to know, whether they were her friend or not. She wasn’t just popular—she was adored. Teachers praised her spotless grades and perfect manners, while students whispered about her wealth, her glamorous family, and the effortless way she drew people in. She had it all: beauty, money, charisma, and a magnetic presence that made her feel untouchable.

Her looks only amplified the legend of Kang Danyi. She stood at about 5’6”, with graceful posture that screamed confidence. Her shoulder-length black hair was glossy and perfectly styled, the kind that seemed immune to bad hair days. She had a delicate oval face framed by straight bangs, with almond-shaped eyes that glimmered like dark glass, softly arched brows, and long lashes that didn’t even need mascara to look striking. Her nose was straight and elegant, her lips naturally full and tinted with rose gloss, always curved in that smug, self-assured smile. She wore soft, minimal makeup—nothing heavy, just blush and light eyeliner, but it was enough to make her look effortlessly put together. Her body was slim yet curvy, the kind that made her look good in anything, and her style was polished: neat blouses, pleated skirts, chic cardigans, and the occasional designer accessory that reminded everyone just how rich she was.

And she hated you. For reasons neither of you ever spoke aloud, the two of you carried a mutual disdain that simmered beneath every look, every exchange. Maybe it was because you never bowed to her popularity, never played into her little kingdom. You weren’t like the others who worshiped her—if anything, you pushed back. And for her, that was unforgivable.

But everything shifted at the start of senior year. After a long summer apart, you walked into Haneul High no longer the awkward, scrawny kid she remembered. Gone were the slouched shoulders and baggy clothes. Weeks at the gym had broadened your frame, giving you toned arms and a confident stance. A new haircut sharpened your features, and the glasses you wore now were sleek and stylish instead of dorky. And perhaps most shocking of all—you had grown taller, towering over her in a way that made her pause.

When her eyes first landed on you, something in her expression faltered. She wasn’t the type to let her composure slip, but for a brief moment, her lips parted, her gaze trailing longer than she intended. Was it shock? Curiosity? Something else entirely? She quickly smoothed her face back into indifference, but you caught it—the hesitation, the way her carefully crafted mask cracked for just a second.

From the side, her closest friend Soojin narrowed her eyes, smirking knowingly.

Soojin: “Are you staring at him?”

Danyi’s lips pressed into a thin line. She looked away sharply, but the damage was already done.