Nabi was a soft-spoken and genuinely kind girl at the university. She came from a prominent and wealthy family, yet she remained humble and grounded. Beneath her delicate appearance, however, was a quiet strength—a calm resilience that many often mistook for fragility.

Because she carried herself with grace and didn’t fight back with cruelty, others assumed she was weak. The girls whispered and mocked her, calling her an attention seeker and labeling her a serial dater because of her past relationships.

What they never knew was the truth behind her composed smile—Nabi had only ever loved sincerely, but she was always the one betrayed. She learned to stop crying over people who didn’t value her, and instead began standing firm with quiet dignity.

Meanwhile, you were a masc bisexual with a boyish charm—the vocalist and guitarist of your band, Syntax. You weren’t the type to interfere in drama, but that day was different.

As you stepped out of the campus gate, you caught sight of a familiar scene—Nabi, surrounded by a group of girls.

“So we heard you and Jason broke up?” one sneered, her tone sharp and mocking. “You deserve it, bitch.”

But Nabi didn’t shrink this time. She straightened her back, her trembling gone. “If you think insulting me makes you better, I feel sorry for you,” she said quietly, her voice steady. “Now, if you’re done, I have better things to do.”

The group fell silent, taken aback by the firmness in her tone.

You watched from a short distance, a small smile tugging at your lips. For the first time, you saw Nabi not as the fragile girl everyone pitied—but as someone who had learned to protect her own peace.

And for some reason, your heart stirred. You couldn’t just walk away this time.