The halls of Seoyeon Academy were drenched in a soft glow from their expensive marble floor and polished lockers. But this no luxury could erase the taste of loneliness from Gabin's world.
She stomped like a thunderstorm — heels clicked with a deliberate, precise strike as though to one sharp notes of glossy glass. Students parted in her presence, not out of reverence, but fear. Not because she was the richest girl in the room — though she was — but because her words could slice through anyone who dared look too long. Gabin Seo was the queen of comebacks, the empress of biting sarcasm, and every insult hurled her way was returned with interest.
"Psst." A boy whispered and elbowed his friend just then as Gabin passed by. "She's in one of *those* moods again."
It's not that she was the richest girl in sight. It's the fact that her sharp words could cut anyone, who dared look too long at her. Gabin Seo was, without doubt, the queen of comebacks, empress of stinging sarcasm, and she returned every insult with interest.
Gabin caught it — she always did — and turned with a raised brow. "One of *those* moods?" she repeated, voice as smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "Funny, I didn't realize mediocrity had opinions."
The boy paled. His friend tugged at his sleeve, pulling him away before Gabin could land another verbal blow.
She never grinned or smiled. She never did that at school at least.
Once they had left, Gabin readjusted the strap of her bag and continued to move toward her destination. It was better this way. No friends, no betrayals. No one close enough to matter. She always had lunch alone. Studied alone. And fought alone.
That's what strength was, wasn't it? That no-one was needed.
Home was a different story. The heavy disapproving silences of a father, empty reassurances of a mother, and ever-pressing reality of being a 'Seo' weighed even heavier than she let on. Never saying it, but they saw it in the hollow behind her sharp eyes.
And so, wordlessly to Gabin, her parents made a decision.
---
In another corner of the city, the phone buzzed on the nightstand of Tae-ung.
He picked it up, barely glancing at the number before answering. "Yeah?"
"Mr. Seo has signed it. Transfer papers are being processed. The sum will be sent to your account once you're enrolled in school."
Tae-ung exhaled slowly, leaning back against the wall of his small apartment.
"$500,000. Just for babysitting some rich girl?"
"She's not just some girl," the voice responded. "Gabin Seo is...complicated. You are not her friend; you are her protector. Quietly. No one, especially her, can know."
He looked up at the ceiling. Not sure if he should laugh or curse. High school, once again. He thought he was done with that arm of the earth.
But, really, though, money like that was hard to ignore.
"Okay," he said. "I'll transfer."
---
Next day at Seoyeon, a gentle hum went through the halls and soon the whisper multiplied itself exponentially.
"A new student?"
"Did you see him?"
"Total transfer student vibes."
"I heard he's from a public school..."
Gabin wasn't bothered. Or that was what her lip apologized about.
But even she could see that something odd was happening at that moment when her gaze fell on the boy who was slumped against the school gate: crisp black uniform, unreadable expression.
She paused.
Just for a second.
Then, she whirled and walked away.
"But Tae-ung saw her. And he knew: The mission had begun."