Chapter Three—Lucent

The bells echoed sharply through the school, signaling the start of the assembly.

Without hesitation, the students surged towards the hall, following the routine that marked the beginning of their day before settling into their classes for lectures.

Sierra stood near the back of the line, her heart racing as she listened to the teacher at the podium addressing the crowd. The assembly was surprisingly silent, despite the thousands of students assembled in rows. Unfortunately, Sierra was late and had found herself stuck towards the end of the line.

Her heart pounded, a reminder of the frantic morning she had experienced. Sleep had clung to her until sunlight flooded her room, jolting her awake. Panic set in when she realized the assembly began at 8 am, and she had mere minutes to prepare.

She rushed to brush her teeth and splash water on her face, her anxiety mounting as she hurried through her morning routine.

With only a quick run of her fingers through her tousled blonde hair, she faced the mirror. "Oh no," she muttered, dismayed at her appearance—swollen eyes and a disheveled look that echoed her chaotic start.

She could only curse herself for not waking up earlier.

Sierra then grabbed her uniform, and began to wear it one after the other, her white underwear, blue shirt, only to find herself in a new predicament.

As she pulled the zipper of her skirt, it came loose in her hands, leaving her in utter disbelief.

"Did that just happen?" she asked herself, the gravity of the situation sinking in as the airs on her skin rose.

In a moment of carelessness, she had ruined her first day at Lucent Elite with a broken zipper and no backup uniform.

Cursing her luck, she frantically searched her room for a solution. She rushed through the cupboards, looking for pins to hold her skirt but there was none.

And time was ticking away.

How can one be so unfortunate, she thought to herself. If only she had gotten up earlier, she would have time to prepare herself but she just had to foolishly sleep like a log of wood!

Her shoulder slumped in dissapointment as she realized she couldn't find any pins. Sierra couldn't afford to miss today's class.

Then it dawned on her—she dashed towards her luggage and opened the zip before scattering the clothes in them across the room until her gaze landed on the sewing kit. She exhaled in relief. Thankfully, she had brought this with her.

She hurriedly fished it out and found three pins, which she used to temporarily secure her skirt. With her bag packed, she tied her hair up quickly, knowing she had no time to waste. "I have to go," she told herself with determination. "Everything will be fine."

Yet, standing at the assembly, the nervous energy continued to build as she awaited the process to be over so she could finally step into her class and then retreat to her dorm.

"And now, we will begin the student check. Seniors, please ensure that students are dressed appropriately before heading to class," the teacher announced.

Almost instantly, seniors began filtering through the rows, scrutinizing the students.

"Your nails," one senior ordered, inspecting the juniors one by one.

Sierra bit her lip, anxiety coursing through her as she waited for her turn.

They were going to notice the broken zipper, and what would happen then?

The thought sent her heart racing.

She dared to glance over the student in front of her and realized with dread that the senior checking her row was the same guy she had bumped into yesterday.

A wave of embarrassment hit her hard.

Would he even give her a chance to explain? He had brushed past her like she was invisible, and she hardly expected him to be sympathetic now. The prospect of punishment weighed heavily on her.

Just then, a deep voice broke through her thoughts. "Straighten your collar," he commanded, his tone firm and assertive, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine.

He had gotten here? That was so quick, she thought with a racing heart and clammy hands.

Sierra's gaze met his. "O...h," she stammered, averting her gaze as she adjusted her collar before swallowing hard and meeting his unyielding stare, his expression completely neutral.

"Show me your nails," he ordered again. Sierra swallowed, bringing her fingers together for his inspection.

They were short and clean—at least that was one thing she had done right, she thought.

He continued, "Empty your pockets."

She swiftly reached into her skirt pocket, inadvertently revealing the glint of pins holding her skirt in place.

"What are those?" he questioned, his gaze steady on hers.

"Huh? My pockets are... empty," Sierra replied, glancing around nervously before returning to his unwavering stare.

"Why do you have pins holding your skirt?" he pressed, his tone demanding.

Panic set in; this was the moment of truth. Awareness of the surrounding students intensified her anxiety, and she felt her heart race. She wet her lips, lowered her voice, and said, "When I tried to zip it, the zipper broke—"

He regarded her with a blank stare. "First day, and you already ruined the uniform?" he stated, not expecting a reply. "Hand over the pins."

Her eyes widened. "Please… My skirt is going to fall off," Sierra pleaded, her voice trembling as she looked at him desperately.

"The school doesn't permit anything that's not part of the uniform," he declared, his tone final. He studied her with impatience while fear flashed in her eyes. Handing over the pins would be humiliating, leaving her exposed to ridicule. She didn't want that for herself, not on the first day. Not ever.

"What's happening over there? Why is this taking so long, Tristain?" the teacher called out, raising her hand in their direction, drawing all eyes to Sierra and the senior student.

"Please," Sierra implored again, tears threatening to spill over. Her heart hammering, body trembling. She was a huge mess and was so desperate for him to keep her secret. "I'll fix the zipper when I get back, I promise." Although a part of her feared he would expose her, a sliver of hope lingered that he might understand.

He stared at her dead in the eyes, and without another word, he walked away toward another student, leaving Sierra to breathe an enormous sigh of relief.

Just as he departed, the teacher, now suspicious of the delay, approached. Her quick, calculating gaze locked onto Sierra. Panic surged as Sierra focused straight ahead, avoiding the teacher's penetrating stare, but the teacher wasn't letting her off the hook.

Her sharp gaze immediately landed on the pins holding the skirt.

"Give me those pins," she commanded, and Sierra's heart raced again.

Hesitation seeped in as Sierra pondered her response. "Are you disobeying a teacher now?" the woman asked sternly. Her expression was unforgiving as she bore down on Sierra.

"No, I'm not," Sierra shook her head, her hands trembling as she reluctantly began to remove the pins one by one, placing them into the teacher's outstretched palm.

When she reached the last pin, the teacher urged, "Hand it over."

Bitterness welled within Sierra.

On her first day, she was shaming herself, and she could already picture the bullying to come. A wave of despair washed over her; she'd forever be seen as a joke. With closed eyes, she removed the final pin, bracing for her skirt to drop.

But instead, a firm hand gripped her skirt. She opened her eyes, her expression shifting to surprise; it was him again—Tristain.