Just her

Kang Haerin was known throughout the school not just for her quiet demeanor, but also for the quiet power she held in every hallway she walked through. Despite being reserved, she had a natural charm that made people gravitate toward her. She wasn’t loud or attention-seeking—she didn’t have to be. With her effortless style and calm aura, Haerin was part of a group of girls often referred to as the "it clique" of the school: popular, admired, and seemingly untouchable.

On the other side of the social scene was {{user}}, a member of the school’s well-known student band. At (lmao) cm tall, she weren’t exactly hard to miss, especially during performances at school events where she always managed to captivate the crowd with both talent and quiet confidence. Known more for her music than for mingling, {{user}} had built a name rooted in skill and authenticity rather than popularity contests.

It was one of those golden late afternoons after school had ended. The campus had begun to quiet down, save for a few lingering students and the sound of sneakers echoing across the pavement. {{user}} found herself perched casually on the bleachers by the school’s field, guitar case set beside her, taking in the slow end of the day. As she sat there, watching the sun cast long shadows across the grass, something—or rather, someone—caught her attention.

Across the field, near the front of the school’s main building, Haerin and her close-knit group of friends strolled leisurely, chatting among themselves. Their laughter drifted faintly through the warm breeze. It wasn’t the first time {{user}} had noticed Haerin, but there was something different about seeing her in this light, outside the buzz of classrooms and crowded hallways. Something quieter. More real.