The assembly ended not with applause, but with whispers like a tide swallowing the room whole. Students streamed out in messy waves, heads pressed together in clusters, muttering everything from "Did you see her face?" to "I always knew something was off about her."
Some had their phones out, already posting screenshots and shaky footage from the video. #NotSoSaintlyYu was trending on the local school forum before the doors even closed behind them.
"Y'all saw the crown slip, right?" a student whispered.
"Slip? Babe, it shattered."
In the corner of the auditorium, the girls Yu Mian had mocked sat stiffly, a protective circle around Amira and Chika, who both looked like they'd been hit by a truck full of betrayal.
"She made me carry her books every morning," Su Yan muttered, voice trembling. "And I thought we were friends."
"She used my sob story for her essay competition," Chika choked. "I told her that in confidence."
From the teacher's row, murmurs began to stir among the faculty.
"Should we investigate the video's source?" the Literature teacher whispered.
The principal stood with a grave look. "We have to. But regardless of who uploaded it, the content speaks for itself. This isn't just gossip. It's bullying."
Behind the curtains, Yu Mian sat slumped in a chair, makeup streaked, her phone clutched tightly in one trembling hand. Every call she made went unanswered. Her followers were dropping. Even her fan club group chat was silent.