The university grounds looked like they were plucked straight out of a storybook in spring—brick walkways flanked by cherry trees, ivy-covered towers, and bright students dashing to lectures with coffee in one hand and dreams in the other. But none of them quite shone the way Lena Hart did.
She wasn't rich. She didn't come from a well-known family. She didn't wear designer brands or throw expensive brunches on weekends. But wherever she walked, heads turned.
Some whispered it was her fairy-tale beauty—soft brown eyes with flecks of gold, porcelain skin that flushed with the sun, and long light brown hair always half-wild. Others said it was something else, something harder to define—grace, perhaps. Or a quiet kind of pride.
Still, Lena kept to herself.
Her world was small: a shared dorm, late-night study sessions, part-time jobs, and her best friend Chloe Westwood—who happened to be everything Lena wasn't. Glamorous, daughter of a property tycoon, and outrageously generous. Chloe had the kind of freedom Lena couldn't afford to dream about.
And yet, the two of them clicked like puzzle pieces.
They met during orientation. Chloe had accidentally spilled iced coffee on Lena's blouse, then promptly dragged her to an upscale boutique to buy her two new outfits, a smoothie, and a ride home.
From then on, they were inseparable.
"Why do you even hang out with me?" Lena asked once.
"Because you're not trying to use me," Chloe replied, brushing off the question like lint. "Besides, you're prettier than me. I need you around to humble me."
Lena laughed at that, but deep down, she felt grateful—like the universe had slipped her a miracle without explanation.
The miracle didn't stop there.
During her second year, a scout from a mid-tier entertainment agency spotted her during a campus festival performance. It wasn't a fancy performance. She, along with her other female department members, arranged a simple performance singing a popular idol song, wearing cute ribbons on their heads. Within months, Lena was signed into a four-member idol group called Velvet Bloom.
It wasn't the biggest debut. No screaming fans. No trending hashtags. But they had charm, and Lena stood out—her elegance, her quiet confidence, her hauntingly sweet voice.
For a while, it worked.
They charted. They danced on music shows. They took selfies backstage with trembling hands. They were invited to small brand campaigns, did midnight radio interviews, and once—just once—opened for a major artist at a summer festival.
And Lena thought maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something.
But the industry was cruel.
Two years in, their popularity plateaued. One member left. Another had a scandal. Their agency merged with a bigger company that had no plans for them. Velvet Bloom was quietly shelved.
Lena tried not to cry during their last meeting.
She tried to smile and say she was grateful. That she had learned a lot. That she would continue working hard.
But deep inside, the girl who used to perform under campus lights now stood in the shadows of brighter stars.
With no steady income, Lena turned to guest appearances and minor acting gigs. A supporting role here. A variety show there. Not because she craved the spotlight, but because she needed money.
Her family had fallen on hard times.
It started with a business pitch to her parents—an "investment opportunity" by someone who claimed to be a fan of Velvet Bloom. Trust was given. Money was handed over. It all went wrong.
In less than a year, her parents' modest savings and retirement fund evaporated. They were left with debt and shame. Lena didn't blame them.
She blamed herself.
Because she was the reason people had approached them in the first place.
She began selling her personal belongings, taking any job she could find. Voice acting. Commercial work. Even script proofreading. All while juggling the burden of bills she didn't create.
But she never told Chloe.
She didn't want her best friend to worry—or worse, to pity her.
So Lena smiled, posed when asked, sang when needed, and pretended the world was still beautiful.
But even fairytales have fine print.
And this one?
Was about to end its first chapter.