---
*Rehearsal Day – Backstage at Imperials*
The rehearsal hall was alive with motion—students darting between makeup chairs and costume racks, the air thick with the scent of hair spray, sweat, and adrenaline. Voices echoed off the tall ceilings, snippets of lines and melodies mingling with commands from directors and murmurs from designers.
Nao sat silently in the corner of the makeup room, her reflection caught in the mirror like a ghost from another time. She wore a 1980s-style gown, elegant but reserved, its deep burgundy color contrasting the pale bow tied softly at her throat.she was on a wig, cascading like silk ropes pinned in place. She barely recognized herself.
She exhaled slowly. Today was big—*the* rehearsal for the Executive Review. If she did well, this could cement her place at Imperials. Status, recognition... safety.
Just as she reached for her phone on the vanity, the door creaked open.
"Ah—excuse me."
A boy stepped inside. He looked vaguely familiar—maybe a student from another club. He smiled as he approached, holding something in his hand.
"I think I accidentally gave you my phone the other day."
Nao blinked. "Oh—right." She stood and fished out the device she'd assumed was hers.
He accepted it with a small nod and handed her another.
"And this one's yours," he said. "Also…"
He slipped her a folded piece of paper. "My number. In case you ever need help around here."
He gave her a casual wave and stepped out, vanishing into the chaos of the hallway.
Nao looked down at the paper, a polite smile still frozen on her face. Her fingers unfolded it slowly.
Then her heart stopped.
It wasn't just a number.
*"The uniform you got for murder looks good on you."*
The exact words from the note she found on her doorstep days ago.
Her breath hitched. Her skin went cold.
Her mind raced.
*No way. No way.*
She rushed to the door, flung it open, and searched the hallway—but the boy was gone. Swallowed by the sea of students and costumed bodies.
"Nao, you can't leave yet," one of the makeup artists called from behind her. "Rehearsal's in just a few minutes."
Nao didn't answer. She lingered a second longer in the doorway, searching. Hoping.
But no one looked back.
Finally, she turned and closed the door behind her. Her reflection was still waiting.
This time, it looked shaken.
---
The rehearsal director stood at the center, holding a note with a furrowed brow.
"Nathan's off again?" the director muttered, frustration evident in his voice.
Tammy from D-X crossed her arms, her tone laced with sarcasm.
"Why's he the main lead if he's not even interested?"
Before the director could respond, Mrs. Marion entered the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. Her voice cut through the chatter like a knife.
"In cases like this, when you know power rules, you put a peg on your mouth and shut the f*** up," she declared, her eyes scanning the room.
The room fell silent.
"Nathan isn't here, yes. Still, it wouldn't take a day for him to know what we're doing here," she continued. "This is his replacement for the rehearsal."
A young man stepped onto the stage, dressed in the lead's costume. Mrs. Marion gestured toward him.
"This is Kim Joon."
A murmur spread through the room.
"Oui... it's the Asian guy," someone whispered.
Nao's eyes widened in recognition. It was him—the same person who had handed her the cryptic note days earlier.
Mrs. Marion and the director stepped aside as the stage lights dimmed, leaving a spotlight on Nao and Kim. Ria, Konan, Tashiba, and Sato took their places, ready to provide the instrumental accompaniment.
Tashiba's soft piano tune set the mood, followed by Konan's gentle violin. Kim approached Nao, taking her hand with a gentleman's grace, his left hand placed behind his back. He led her in a few steps before swirling her around, bringing her close.
Nao's mind raced with questions. If he knew she was the witness, why hadn't he said anything? Or did he already know?
"You should focus, you know," Kim whispered.
"Cut!" Mrs. Marion's voice rang out. "Nao, you're not putting life into this. Make it look real."
"Oh... yeah... sure," Nao replied, shaken.
Meanwhile, members of D-X, Celestrix, and Vicki~Log prepared for Scene 2. Viki leaned down to Kaze's ear from behind.
"Doesn't she look beautiful in that dress?"
"Um... yeah... I guess," Kaze responded.
"Ha... so, I heard you two were close," she added, sitting next to him.
"She's just my old friend," he said.
"Ha... then you all must be close enough. Lol, she can't even perform. Talk about the failure ahead," Viki sneered.
"Ha..." Kaze scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable.
"Talk about the White House taking in species into the Black House..." Viki continued.
Kaze stared at Nao, recalling her behavior from the previous day.
"She acted... the same way yesterday," he thought.
"When things are placed out of their place, they lose their senses and act like they have power over everything now," Viki added. "She thinks everything's in her hands now, doesn't she?"
Nao suddenly stopped.
"Five minutes, please," she said, walking off stage.
Everyone looked on, confused.
"Thinking it now revolves around her is crazy," Viki whispered.
Kaze stood up.
"Gimme a sec," he said, walking out.
Viki watched him leave, a smirk playing on lips.
"Hmmm".
---
*Backstage Room – Moments After the Rehearsal Walk-Off*
Nao ripped the wig off her head, letting her real hair fall freely onto her shoulders. Her breaths were uneven, and her heartbeat pounded louder than the muffled chatter outside the room. She bent down, unstrapping the vintage rehearsal heels and tossing them aside without care.
A frustrated groan escaped her lips.
"He looked... so innocent," she muttered, pacing in the narrow space. "Was it really him? F***... I almost said it. I almost *asked* him outright."
Her fingers trembled slightly, brushing against the paper she had tucked deep into her dress pocket.
*—A few minutes earlier—*
The stage lights had cast a haunting glow over her and Kim Joon. His eyes were unreadable, calm, even kind. But something beneath that calm unnerved her.
She'd leaned in slightly, almost inaudibly whispering:
"Was… it you?"
His brow furrowed. "What?"
She hesitated. Her palms were clammy.
"The note."
He tilted his head, the corner of his lip twitching in confusion. "I don't understand."
She swallowed hard. "The note…"
His eyes narrowed now—not threateningly, but curiously.
"Note? What's in it?"
That was when she felt it. That split-second rush of panic like standing on the edge of a cliff.
Her trust in her instincts shattered momentarily.
Her mouth went dry.
"...The…"
But the words dissolved.
She took a shaky breath, withdrew, and turned to the director.
"Five minutes please," she said, walking off the stage without waiting for permission.
*—School Hall – Simultaneously—*
*BAAM!!*
The echo of a body slamming against a locker reverberated through the long corridor.
Students barely flinched. Only a few spared a glance before returning to their chatter or scrolling through their devices. The chaos was normal here. Violence, even more so.
Nathan had a senior boy pinned to the lockers by the throat. One hand was shoved hard against the boys throat, his other hand still tightly bandaged.
The boy choked slightly, boots barely touching the floor.
"Say that again," Nathan growled, his voice low and coiled like a predator's warning.
The guy wheezed, barely getting air through his throat. "W-what's the matter, Williams? You worried you're gonna lose the little *dark aura* you've been holding over everyone?"
Nathan slammed him back again.
The metal lockers rattled.
"What do you know about my aura?" Nathan chuckled ,voice intense. His eyes flicked toward the gathering crowd—none of whom dared approach.
90% of them didn't even care.
Because this was Imperial High. And this was Nathan Williams. Son of the Head. Leader of Diamonds.
Untouchable.
Students whispered under their breath but stayed far enough not to be involved. Some pulled out phones. Some didn't even stop walking. It was just another day.
Nathan leaned in closer to the boy's ear, speaking so low only he could hear.
"You think I care about losing power? I *am* the f***ing power."