Anaya Sharma had a secret.
A very questionable, highly judged, and absolutely un-shareable secret.
And currently… it was hidden inside a very innocent-looking book titled:"Advanced English Grammar for Senior Classes."
Which, ironically, was open on her lap.
But the content she was actually reading?
Definitely not grammar.
She sat cross-legged on her bed, her back resting against the headboard, eyes glued to her phone screen tucked neatly between the pages of the book. Her glasses had slightly slipped down her nose, and her expression—
Well.
If any of her students saw her right now, they would immediately lose all respect.
Because their "calm, composed, and slightly strict English teacher" was currently blushing.
Hard.
"Okay… wow," she whispered under her breath, quickly glancing at the door like she'd just committed a crime. "That escalated quickly…"
Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second before she scrolled further.
Big mistake.
"NOPE—" she shut her eyes instantly, pressing the phone flat against the book. "We are not reading that again. We have self-control. We are a responsible adult."
…three seconds later, she peeked again.
"Just… one more paragraph."
On the glowing screen was the latest chapter of a wildly popular yet completely anonymous novel series written by the infamous author:
NoirR.
No one knew who NoirR was.
No interviews.No face reveal.No social media presence beyond cryptic updates.
Just words.
Dangerous, intense, ridiculously addictive words.
And Anaya?
She was hopelessly hooked.
"I swear this author needs therapy," she muttered, biting her lip as she read another line. "Like… who thinks like this?"
Pause.
"…and why do I like it so much?"
She groaned softly, dropping her head back against the wall.
"This is wrong. Completely wrong. I teach children. CHILDREN."
As if on cue, her phone buzzed.
She nearly jumped.
Quickly switching tabs, she opened her school group chat.
Principal Ma'am:Reminder: Submit tomorrow's lesson plan by 9 PM.
Anaya blinked.
Then slowly looked at the time.
8:47 PM.
"…I am going to fail at life."
Ten minutes later, she was at her study table, laptop open, notebook beside her, trying—really trying—to focus.
"Okay," she said aloud, cracking her knuckles dramatically. "Lesson plan. Tenses. Simple. Easy. Respectable."
She typed the title.
"Past Continuous Tense."
And then… paused.
Her brain, completely unhelpful, decided to replay a line she had just read.
Word for word.
Her fingers froze above the keyboard.
"…this is harassment," she whispered, staring at the screen like it had betrayed her.
With a deep sigh, she shut the laptop halfway and reached for her phone again.
"Just one last check… maybe there's an author's note…"
There wasn't.
Of course there wasn't.
NoirR never explained anything.
Just dropped emotional chaos and disappeared.
Anaya flopped back into her chair dramatically.
"I swear," she said to absolutely no one, "if I ever meet this NoirR person in real life…"
She pointed a finger at the air.
"…I will personally tell them to stop ruining my mental stability."
A beat.
"…after asking for the next chapter."
What Anaya didn't know—
Couldn't even begin to imagine—
Was that somewhere, not too far away, a certain someone had just finished writing that very chapter…
…and would find her words incredibly amusing.