Chapter Twelve: The Eye of Baekhyun

Rain lashed the windows like fingernails against glass. Baekhyun Academy looked quieter than usual that morning, the marble halls muffled, the laughter dialed down to whispers. Something had changed. Not just the tension after the gala. Not just the forum scandals or the stares that trailed Hae-won like shadows. Something else. Something colder.

The surveillance room on the top floor of the admin building blinked silently, its monitors flickering with static.

Mr. Oh, the Director, adjusted his glasses and leaned closer to the console. One of the camera feeds—C14, positioned above the West Garden where the gala had taken place—looped strangely. A blur passed through the image, warping it. A distortion that shouldn't have existed.

"Did you authorize this feed override?" he asked the assistant hunched beside him.

The younger staffer looked pale. "No, sir. Nothing's been touched. It happened two nights ago. We've been trying to restore the data."

Mr. Oh didn't blink. He watched the blur frame-by-frame. It wasn't just one camera. It had spread to five locations now. All near the East Wing. All around the night of the gala.

"Run a security audit. Quietly."

---

Hae-won hadn't slept well. Between trying to stay afloat on merit points and scrubbing off last week's reputation, she barely had time to breathe. The rain didn't help. It soaked the hems of her uniform and dripped down the back of her neck as she and Ji-ae walked to class.

Ji-ae twirled her umbrella. "You're trending again."

"Am I a celebrity or a cautionary tale?"

Skylar, trailing just behind them, looked up from her phone. "Depends on the lighting."

They were halfway down the art building corridor when a voice called out:

"Hae-won!"

Haneul jogged toward them, the collar of his blazer unbuttoned, his hair a little damp from the drizzle. "Hey, I saw the other storyboard you submitted for the gala recap presentation. That was yours, right? The layouts and timing markers? It looks familiar with the you presented before"

Hae-won blinked. "Yeah. I mean, it was a group effort."

"Don't do that," he said with a grin. "It was clean. Clear. Bold. Most people overdo the text or forget balance, but you hit the flow perfectly."

Ji-ae looked between them with raised brows. Skylar smirked and turned away, clearly eavesdropping while pretending not to.

Hae-won flushed. "Thanks. I just... liked organizing it."

"Artists like us notice that stuff," Haneul said. "You ever try sketching? Your rhythm's good. You'd be great at it."

Before she could reply, Soo-min brushed past them, her umbrella snapping shut like a threat. "You left your fan club behind, Haneul. They're sobbing somewhere."

"Let 'em," he replied, then winked at Hae-won. "Nice seeing you. Let me know if you ever want to hang out in the studio."

He disappeared into the next hall, humming to himself.

Ji-ae poked her. "Girl."

"What?"

"That was flirting."

Skylar added, "That was definitely flirting."

---

Later that day, a hush fell over the library wing as whispers broke out about the administration.

Something about security.

Something about camera malfunctions.

A rumor started spinning, quiet and sticky, like wet thread: someone had tampered with the footage from the gala. Someone didn't want to be seen.

And someone else... wanted it known.

---

In the admin office, Mr. Oh replayed the corrupted segment. The blur moved like it had a mind of its own—smart, almost surgical. But one frame caught his attention. Just one.

A boy's silhouette. Half-turned. Faint.

Too indistinct to confirm.

But if he squinted hard enough, the outline of the hair—the lean frame, the posture—reminded him of someone on the disciplinary watchlist.

Kyung-min.

Mr. Oh narrowed his eyes.

Baekhyun Academy had rules. Surveillance was sacred.

And now, someone was rewriting them.

---

That night, Hae-won stared at her reflection in the dorm mirror. There was a smudge on her cheekbone from charcoal pencil in art class. Her thoughts kept circling back to Haneul's compliment, to Soo-min's glare, to the quiet stares in the hallway. She rubbed the smudge away with her sleeve, but her face still burned.

Something was shifting again.

The rain kept falling.

The school kept watching.

And someone—someone with access—had blurred the eyes of Baekhyun.