The gold tag was back.
Pinned perfectly on her locker.
Shining. Bold. Marked in red:
DROP OF J.S.W. — DO NOT TOUCH
It didn't just make a statement—it declared war.
Kang Ha-Rin stared at it, heart pounding. The hallway was already buzzing.
"Did he really do that for her?"
"I heard he barged into the disciplinary office and threatened to shut down the whole dorm system."
"Is it true he kissed her?"
"She must be really good at playing the game..."
She pulled the tag off her locker and pinned it to her chest, hand trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the weight of eyes. Dozens of them. Watching. Measuring. Waiting for her to fall.
She didn't blink.
She walked.
Head high.
Because if she was going to survive this place, she couldn't just be Seo-Won's Drop.
She had to become something more dangerous.
His weakness.
—
By lunchtime, it began.
She walked into the cafeteria with her tray, searching for an empty seat—until she saw it.
Her usual spot?
Occupied.
Na-Gyeom sat there, legs elegantly crossed, surrounded by her usual followers. Her tray was untouched, but her smile wasn't.
"I thought you might enjoy a new seat," she said loudly as Ha-Rin approached.
The whole room went quiet.
"I don't remember that seat having your name on it," Ha-Rin replied coolly.
"Oh, darling. Everything in this school has my name on it. Even things that temporarily forget where they belong."
Gasps.
Ha-Rin's fingers clenched around her tray.
Seo-Won wasn't here.
And even if he were... she didn't want to hide behind him.
"You must be tired," Ha-Rin said sweetly. "All that energy spent trying to stay relevant."
Na-Gyeom's smile cracked.
But before she could reply, a new voice cut through the air.
"Ha-Rin-ah," said Yoon Tae-Hwan, stepping into view with a tray of his own. "May I join you?"
Every head swiveled.
Ha-Rin blinked. "I—uh..."
"She was just leaving," Na-Gyeom snapped.
Tae-Hwan didn't even look at her. "Then she won't mind if I sit here instead."
He walked straight past Na-Gyeom and took a seat at the table behind her, motioning for Ha-Rin to follow.
For a second, she hesitated.
Then she turned her back on Na-Gyeom—and joined him.
The room buzzed like static.
Na-Gyeom's expression could've melted steel.
—
"You didn't have to do that," Ha-Rin muttered as she poked at her rice.
"I wanted to," Tae-Hwan said simply.
"Now she's going to hate me more."
"She already does."
"Helpful."
He chuckled softly. "You're stronger than you let on."
"I'm not trying to be strong. I'm just trying not to drown."
"Same thing, really."
She looked up, eyes searching his.
Tae-Hwan wasn't like Seo-Won.
His attention wasn't consuming, but it lingered. It cared.
And she didn't know which scared her more.
—
Later that afternoon, Student Council met in the library's private chamber.
Ha-Rin arrived last, slipping in just as Seo-Won took his seat at the head of the long glass table. His eyes flicked to her—then to the tag on her blazer.
He didn't say a word.
But something passed between them. An unspoken fire.
Na-Gyeom, seated to his right, smiled like a cat that swallowed a bird.
"I hope everyone enjoyed the Gala rehearsal," she purred. "Some of us made quite the... scene."
Seo-Won's voice was flat. "Stick to the agenda."
"Oh, but this is the agenda," she said, pulling a pink folder from her designer tote. "I'd like to propose a new initiative—an exclusive etiquette workshop for scholarship students. To help them better understand the school's standards."
She slid the folder across the table toward Ha-Rin.
"After all," she added with faux sweetness, "not everyone was raised to know which fork is for dessert."
Snickers. Raised brows.
Ha-Rin opened the folder.
Inside: a registration form. Mandatory for all students receiving financial aid. Hosted by... Lee Na-Gyeom.
Seo-Won looked at the form. Then at Na-Gyeom.
"You made this without council approval."
"I'm proposing it now."
"This is a personal attack."
Na-Gyeom batted her lashes. "It's school improvement."
Seo-Won turned to Ha-Rin. "You're not attending."
Na-Gyeom's smile faltered. "If she doesn't, it'll look like she's refusing to better herself."
"I said," he repeated, "she's not attending."
Ha-Rin spoke up before she could stop herself.
"No."
The table fell silent.
"I'll go," she said.
Seo-Won turned his head, slowly. "What?"
Ha-Rin straightened. "Let her throw her little workshop. Let her feel like she's won. I'll go."
Na-Gyeom blinked.
And Ha-Rin added, "But if I do, I want a seat on the next council vote."
Gasps.
"You don't get to demand that," Na-Gyeom hissed.
"Then I won't go."
Tae-Hwan's lips twitched into the faintest smile.
Seo-Won looked at her, long and hard.
Then—he nodded.
"Deal."
—
The next day, the "etiquette workshop" took place in the East Wing ballroom.
Only five students showed up.
Four were too scared to speak.
The fifth?
Kang Ha-Rin—wearing a crisp navy blazer, her hair pinned up, her expression unshakable.
Na-Gyeom tried everything.
She corrected Ha-Rin's posture.
Mocked her accent.
Purposely "spilled" champagne on her lap.
And when none of it worked—she snapped.
"You think you're clever, don't you?"
"I think I'm still standing," Ha-Rin replied, dabbing her skirt with a napkin. "Which is more than I can say for your dignity."
"You'll never be one of us."
Ha-Rin leaned in.
"I don't want to be," she whispered. "I'm here to replace you."
—
That night, Seo-Won found her in the auditorium.
Alone. Sitting on the edge of the stage, her heels kicked off, staring at the empty rows.
He said nothing at first.
Just sat beside her.
Finally, he spoke. "You shouldn't have gone."
"I needed to."
"I should've stopped her."
"You always protect me," she whispered. "But maybe I want to protect myself too."
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Not like a possession. Not like a toy.
But like something breaking him open.
"You're not like the others," he said.
"I'm not trying to be."
His hand brushed hers.
"You still want to quit?" he asked.
She turned to him.
"I never wanted to quit," she whispered. "I just wanted to matter."
Silence.
Then—
He kissed her again.
Slower this time.
Softer.
Like he was asking permission.
And she gave it.
Because for once, it wasn't about power.
It was about choice.
—
The next morning, a photo appeared in every student's inbox.
A grainy shot of Seo-Won and Ha-Rin. Kissing. On the stage.
Anonymous sender.
Subject line: The Drop's Real Position.
The message?
Clear.
The war had officially begun.
—
End of Chapter 6.
Author's Note:
The gloves are officially off 😈
Na-Gyeom's claws are out, and Ha-Rin is done playing innocent.
Was that tension you felt in the cafeteria ... or war drums?
Let me know your favorite moment in this chapter—and whose side you're on.
Team Queen Bee 🐝 or Team Rebel Drop? 🖤
Comments, votes & shares are my fuel 💬💫
– AKByeol 💋
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