Chapter Ten: Keep Your Heels, Head, and Grades High

The Monday after the gala hit like a slap.

Baekhyun Academy had returned to its usual chill and cruelty, except now Hae-won was the eye of the storm. The moment she stepped into the main building, phones lifted subtly, camera lenses peeking between fingers. No one said anything to her face. They didn't have to. The silence said it all—and the whispers said too much.

"I heard she slept her way in."

"That dress was too tight to be innocent."

"Kyung-min? Really? I thought he only dated older girls."

Every step was a landmine. Her shoes, borrowed from Ji-ae, clicked against the polished floors like a clock ticking toward disaster.

Ji-ae clutched her bag close like she was ready to swing it at someone. "Say the word and I'll throw cafeteria soup on them."

"Let's not go to prison before finals," Hae-won muttered, her voice low.

They made it to the lockers without getting hexed or tackled—barely.

Skylar joined them with sunglasses on indoors, chewing gum like it was her personal rebellion. "You made it back in one piece. Well, emotionally mangled, but still hot."

"Great. I always wanted to be trending for humiliation."

"Oh, please. You're the Cinderella of Baekhyun now. People are already making edits of you. There's one where you're in slow motion, walking down the gala stairs. Someone added sparkles."

"Should I be grateful or afraid?"

"Both."

Hae-won didn't answer. Her eyes trailed to the far end of the hallway, where the four elites stood like the cover of some designer magazine. Kyung-min wasn't looking at her, which made it worse.

She remembered the tight grip of his fingers when he helped zip the gown. The way his voice dropped when he said, "Just pretend like we never spoke."

She had.

Except she hadn't.

In history, she took a seat next to Ji-ae, trying not to crumple from the weight of stares. A piece of paper was passed to her desk. She unfolded it slowly.

"Try not to fall for every guy who pities you, scholarship girl. It's pathetic."

There was no signature, only the soft smell of cherry lip gloss on the crease.

She folded it again. Tucked it into her bag. Her throat burned.

At lunch, they avoided the main hall and found a corner behind the greenhouse. Skylar brought canned sodas and Ji-ae dragged her steamed buns like she was punishing them for breathing.

"This school's not just toxic. It's nuclear," Ji-ae snapped. "What the hell was that note? We should get it analyzed for bio-weapons."

"I'm fine," Hae-won lied.

"No, you're spiraling. Don't think I didn't notice you skipped breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry."

Skylar raised an eyebrow. "You mean you were too busy imagining slapping a rich heir? Been there."

Hae-won cracked a smile, then winced. "Can we talk about something else? Please?"

"Sure," Skylar said. "Let's talk about how the school posted an official announcement for the upcoming 'Founders Week' and guess who got selected for the Student Gala Planning Committee?"

Ji-ae choked. "No."

Skylar wiggled her fingers. "Me. And Hae-won."

Hae-won blinked. "What?"

"It's part of the merit integration strategy. They want us to be seen. Bridging the gap. Cue K-drama soundtrack."

"So they're offering us as sacrificial lambs."

"Essentially."

That night, Hae-won received an official school email: You have been selected as one of the student representatives for the upcoming Founder's Gala. You will work closely with the Senior Committee. Attendance is mandatory.

Her stomach dropped.

At the first planning meeting, she realized quickly that "working closely" meant: put her in a room with Kyung-min, Jin-woon, Haneul, and Seok-min. Oh, and the blue-haired girl, soo-min, who smelled like Dior rage and had claws for lashes.

Kyung-min sat with his legs crossed and eyes flicking to anything that wasn't her. Haneul offered a polite nod. Seok-min adjusted his glasses without looking up. Jin-woon, however, smiled directly at her.

Too directly.

Soo-min—blue hair sleek and satiny, expression unreadable—stood by the windows like she owned the air itself. Her eyes flicked over Hae-won like she was trying to place a name to a stain.

Hae-won ignored it. Mostly.

She had other things to worry about.

The upgraded grading system was still fresh and terrifying in everyone's minds—especially for the merit students. Every event counted now. Every club, every meeting, every leadership task was a digit, a decimal, a possible fall from grace. If she dipped below the top 30, she was out. Game over. Back to Busan.

So even if half the room looked at her like she didn't belong, she would still show up.

She clenched her jaw, straightened her shoulders, and reminded herself of the one silver lining: planning the Welcome Night counted for bonus merit points. If she crushed this, she'd be one step closer to securing her place.

She could survive this.

Even if Soo-min kept staring at her like she was a bug under glass.

"We finally meet again, Hae-won," he said, voice calm like an approaching storm.

She swallowed. "Hi."

Soo-min scoffed. "You're late."

"I wasn't informed of the time."

"Ignorance isn't flattering."

"Neither is rudeness," Hae-won said before she could stop herself.

The room stilled.

Then Jin-woon laughed. "This will be fun."

Later, after soo-min stormed off and Seok-min left with a quiet nod, Kyung-min lingered by the windows. Hae-won debated just walking past him.

But he spoke. "You handled yourself better than expected."

She turned. "What does that mean?"

"It means you still have a target on your back. Don't forget it."

"Is that a threat or a warning?"

He looked at her then, eyes unreadable. "Maybe both."

Behind her, someone cleared their throat. Jin-woon.

"Don't let him scare you," he said, stepping closer. "He does that when he's nervous."

"I don't think Kyung-min gets nervous."

Jin-woon tilted his head. "You'd be surprised."

She stepped back. "What do you want?"

His smile faded a notch. "To offer advice. Stop drawing attention. Don't get involved. This place will devour you, Hae-won."

"I didn't ask to be involved."

"No. But you're already in it."

And with that, he walked away, leaving her alone by the window, the weight of two warnings pressing against her ribs like a vice.

Baekhyun Academy was starting to feel less like a school and more like a chessboard.