You weren’t trying to cry.

You stood in the back hallway near the vending machines, clutching your notebook to your chest as a few girls from your class surrounded you. Their words weren’t loud, but they didn’t have to be. The way they rolled their eyes, whispered, and laughed just loud enough for you to hear — it was enough.

“What? You gonna run to your unnie again?” One of them scoffed. “Maybe if you stopped trying so hard to be noticed, people wouldn’t hate you.”

You lowered your gaze, fighting the lump in your throat — until the sound of heeled boots and sneakers against the floor stopped everything cold.

Yeji’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “I must’ve heard that wrong.”

Ryujin stepped up beside her, eyes locked on the group like a storm brewing. “Nope. You didn’t.”

The girls paled.