I was sitting in class, the entire room moving under the teacher's watchful gaze as he explained the lesson seriously. But I couldn't hear a single word he said.
My thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
What am I supposed to do in this new world?
This world didn't belong to me. It wasn't mine. I didn't have a single thing that was truly mine—not a name, not a place, not a person.
All I wanted was to live… and to protect myself from anyone who tried to harm me.
Loneliness… I felt it strongly in that moment.
A strange feeling—painful, yet somehow comforting.
A feeling those people who walked around me could never understand.
The world belonged to no one but me—at least, that's how it felt deep inside.
When the last class ended and the students began to leave, I noticed something unusual happening among the girls in the next classroom.
Their voices were not frightened—they were full of excitement and disbelief.
Then I saw her.
She was holding the pen I had stabbed Eric with.
Her shimmering eyes were glowing in a way that could almost steal a heartbeat.
Her voice rose above the noise:
"Look at this glorious pen! It's stained with the blood of the handsome prince… Eric the Great!"
The girls around her squealed, trying to yank the pen out of her hand.
Some of them touched it. Others just wanted to touch it.
As if they wanted to possess a piece of the power that his blood represented.
I watched them with cold detachment.
Idiots… what is this obsession?
They acted as if the pen was some kind of magical artifact, as if Eric's blood could grant them life… or invisible authority.
The girl holding the pen was smiling triumphantly, while the others cried out:
> "I want to keep it!"
"I want to smell it!"
"Just let me touch it once!"
I smirked inwardly.
They all lived in their tiny, shallow world—obsessed with meaningless things.
As for me… I had bigger goals. Deeper secrets.
I raised my head toward the window and looked at the orange sky.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
The sunset painted warm colors across the horizon, while the students rushed out of school in loud crowds.
Their voices, their laughter, their whispers—everything created a wave of life that I didn't feel I was part of.
I stood on the side of the road, watching them leave, and the loneliness only grew heavier.
Then I saw Arin.
She walked beside Eric, who was smiling at her in a gentle, almost affectionate way.
I looked at him and rolled my eyes internally.
Suddenly, I felt disdain.
He was nothing special.
No matter his status or power, in my eyes he was just another pampered rich boy who lacked real courage.
Then a luxury black car pulled up.
The door opened, and a tall, sharp-featured young man stepped out—wearing a sleek black suit.
His movements were calm, refined—almost cinematic.
I froze for a moment.
Shared a breath of awe I didn't intend.
Arin didn't hesitate—she ran to him.
Damian.
The eldest brother.
The true heir to power and wealth.
His presence radiated authority.
"Get in the car," he said to Arin, voice calm but firm.
Then he turned to Eric—eyes sharp:
"You too."
Then—he noticed me.
His smile vanished.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"There isn't a seat for you, Yuna."
Just that.
No explanation, no hesitation—just dismissal.
He got into the car.
The engine roared, and they drove off—leaving behind the smell of expensive gasoline and curious stares.
I stood alone, the cold air brushing my face.
No car.
No help.
No one.
And then I realized—
I didn't even know the way home.
The school was enormous.
The streets twisted.
Everything was unfamiliar.
What do I do now? I whispered.
Surviving had suddenly become a challenge.
I began walking, studying every street corner, every sign, trying to memorize anything that could help me return somewhere—anywhere.
The sunlight faded.
Shadows grew longer, swallowing the streets.
The cold seeped into my bones.
Yet the city was beautiful.
The buildings reflected the lingering sunset.
Streetlights flickered to life.
Warm food scents drifted in the air.
For a moment, I stopped and inhaled deeply.
Then—
A taxi stopped.
I got in—without thinking.
Inside sat a composed man in a black suit—calm, unreadable eyes.
"Do you have a destination, miss?" he asked politely.
I hesitated.
"I… don't know the way," I said quietly.
He smiled faintly—not kindly. Just knowingly.
"Oh… so you're lost."
Please don't call the police.
I thought.
That would only create problems.
"…Alright," I murmured.
The car began to move.
City lights blurred outside the window.
Voices, laughter, engines—all blended into a soft hum.
For the first time in a long while…
I felt free.
"If only my life could always feel this quiet…" I whispered to myself.
We passed a warm, lively pub on a corner.
Music, laughter, the glow of amber lights—
I felt drawn in.
The car stopped.
"Would you like to go in?" he asked.
"But you're underage… how will you get in?"
His voice was calm. Certain.
I nodded.
We went in.
We sat at a small round table.
Laughter filled the air.
The music softened everything around us.
"I want two bottles of alcohol. One for me, and one for you," I told him.
He laughed—loud and amused.
"Hahaha… really, you're different from other girls."
I grabbed the bottle, lifted it, and drank.
The burn spread through my chest.
Heat filled my body.
The world began to sway—soft, blurry.
He watched me.
"Can you handle it?" he asked.
"Of course," I answered confidently.
I drank the second bottle.
The dizziness wrapped around me fully this time.
Lights stretched.
Voices blurred.
He laughed and caught me before I could fall.
"My god… you really are insane. How can you drink two whole bottles?"
He lifted me into the car again and began to drive.
Despite drinking, his hands didn't tremble at all.
Then—
The police stopped us.
"We need to check your alcohol level."
His face froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…Oh god. This is bad.
I'm in trouble because of this ridiculous girl."