The morning sun spilled across the classroom windows, painting golden stripes across rows of desks. The chatter of students was unusually loud today, filled with excitement and nervous laughter. Everyone in Class 2-B was busy with brushes, papers, costumes, and props. The annual school festival was just days away, and their class had decided to put on a short play for the big stage.
Liang Meiyu adjusted the papers in her arms, glancing at the script she had just been handed. She hadn't expected her name to be called during yesterday's vote, yet here she was—the female lead of the play.
Her palms were already sweaty just thinking about standing on stage in front of the entire school.
Why did they even choose me? There are so many prettier, more confident girls…
"Oi, don't just stand there like a lost rabbit," a low, familiar voice drawled from behind her.
She turned, already knowing who it was. Zhao Yichen leaned lazily against the desk, script in one hand, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "If you can't even hold a few pages without looking like you're about to faint, how are you supposed to act in front of everyone?"
Meiyu narrowed her eyes. "You're one to talk. Didn't you forget all your lines last year in the talent show?"
The corner of Yichen's mouth curled. "Ah, but I still looked good doing it. That's the difference between us."
Before Meiyu could snap back, Wen Haoran entered the room with a stack of papers. His calm voice cut through the noise. "Alright, everyone. Today's rehearsal will be after lunch. Please make sure you've at least looked through your scripts."
His gaze landed briefly on Meiyu, softening almost imperceptibly. "And don't worry. I'll help you with your lines if you need."
"Thank you, President Wen," Meiyu murmured, clutching the script tighter.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yichen's smirk disappear. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue as if annoyed.
---
The rehearsal began in the gymnasium, where the makeshift stage had been set up. Meiyu's heart pounded as she stood opposite Yichen, both of them under the watchful eyes of classmates and the steady supervision of Haoran.
"Scene three," Haoran announced, flipping through the script. "This is where the heroine confronts the hero about his hidden feelings."
Meiyu swallowed hard. Hidden feelings? The irony wasn't lost on her.
"Ready?" Haoran asked gently.
She nodded. "R-ready."
Yichen gave a mocking bow. "After you, my lady."
The scene began, Meiyu stumbling through her first lines. Yichen, infuriatingly, slipped into character with ease. His low, controlled voice carried through the gym.
"You keep saying I don't care," he said, stepping closer. "But every time you look at me, why do I feel like you already know the truth?"
Meiyu froze, the line catching in her throat. Yichen's eyes bore into hers, too intense for just an act. The way his hand reached toward her shoulder—it didn't feel rehearsed at all.
"Your line," he whispered, barely audible.
She jolted back into focus, blurting out her words. "M-maybe I don't want to know the truth!"
The class erupted in laughter at her flustered delivery, but Haoran quickly intervened. "Alright, that's enough for now. Take a short break."
Meiyu rushed off the stage, cheeks burning. She sat on the edge of the gym steps, trying to calm her racing heart.
Why does it feel so real when he looks at me like that?
She barely noticed when Haoran came over, offering her a bottle of water. "You did fine. First times are always rough."
"I don't think so…" Meiyu mumbled.
"You'll get better," Haoran said gently. "Don't let Yichen get under your skin. He… has a way of pushing people."
Meiyu blinked up at him. "Even you?"
Haoran chuckled softly. "Especially me."
But before Meiyu could respond, Yichen appeared behind them, his voice sharp. "Break time's over. Let's get back before the princess forgets all her lines again."
Meiyu scowled, standing quickly. "I'm not the one who keeps making things weird!"
Yichen arched a brow. "Weird? Or real?"
Her breath hitched, but before she could reply, Haoran stepped between them, his tone calm but firm. "That's enough. We're here to rehearse, not argue."
For a moment, the two boys locked eyes, silent tension crackling in the air. Meiyu felt trapped in the middle, torn between their gazes.
---
The rest of rehearsal passed in a blur, but the weight of that moment lingered long after.
By the time school ended, Meiyu was exhausted. She gathered her things and walked toward the gates, the late afternoon sun warming her skin. Both Yichen and Haoran had treated her differently all day—sharper looks, softer words, moments that felt like more than just friendship.
It was overwhelming.
She just wanted a quiet evening to herself.
But as she stepped out of the gates, her phone buzzed. She glanced down, expecting a message from Qinghe. Instead, an unfamiliar number filled her screen.
Her heart skipped.
[Anonymous]: If you really think you're the heroine of this story, think again. Tomorrow, everyone will know who you really are.]
The words blurred before her eyes.
Her chest tightened.
"Everyone will know…?" she whispered, the phone trembling in her hand.
Who could have sent this?
And what secret did they mean?
---