Chapter 20__Toxic Fan Girl's(Clara's pawn )Attacks and the Consequence
The next day, rumors began floating around about Andrea carrying Violet into her dorm room.
There were no pictures to prove the claim, yet people ate it up greedily.
Even April, Emery, and Victoria couldn't hold their curiosity.
The moment they heard what happened, they screamed in unison.
"Oh my God! He princess-carried you into your dorm?!"
Inside, Vira snickered.
"More like he rice-carried you into your dorm, host."
Violet felt completely fed up with all the gossip, but she knew the best thing to do right now was to ignore it.
For a while, things quieted down.
Melissa hardly came to the dorm, and Violet finally had some peace.
Until she didn't.
A few weeks later, strange things started happening.
Sometimes, students would "accidentally" bump shoulders with her in the hallway.
Other times, her belongings would mysteriously go missing.
A few of her classmates even started ignoring her altogether.
But as long as Emery and Victoria were with her, Violet couldn't care less.
When her tormentors saw that she wasn't reacting, they decided to take things to another level.
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It was P.E. day.
Violet's class—Special Class 1A—was paired with Class 1B for a joint volleyball session.
Clara was part of Class 1B.
Since Class 1B had twenty students, the teacher merged five of them with Violet's class to make even teams.
Among them were Clara and April.
Five players on each side, making it ten each section.
The whistle blew, and the game began.
But it quickly turned unfair.
The girls on the opposite team—mostly Clara's classmates—started hitting the ball aggressively toward Violet.
Not once.
Not twice.
Repeatedly.
Each time, they apologized sweetly.
"Oops, sorry! It slipped!"
The teacher could do nothing after their fake apologies.
Emery, April, and Victoria were furious, but it wasn't their turn to play yet.
Clara smirked, enjoying the show.
Violet finally had enough.
She caught the ball, spun it in her hands, and smirked.
From then on, whenever someone targeted her intentionally, she hit the ball back—twice as hard—and apologized just as sweetly.
"Ah, sorry.
It slipped."
The teacher said nothing.
The other students quickly learned that Violet De'ora was not someone to be messed with.
The game finally calmed down and returned to normal.
After class, the teacher asked Violet and a few girls to return the volleyballs to the storage room, telling the others to head back to class.
But as soon as the teacher and student left the gym, the girls "conveniently" disappeared—leaving Violet alone to carry thirty volleyballs back by herself.
Unfortunately for them, Violet was no fool.
She calmly picked up six balls—exactly her share—then recorded herself doing so with her phone, just in case.
After that, she left the remaining balls untouched and walked away.
Vira's laughter echoed faintly in her mind.
"Host. You're so smart,If they try to blame you, they'll eat their own tongues."
Violet smiled faintly.
Let them try.
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Later that afternoon, the P.E. teacher entered the gym and nearly exploded on the spot.
The volleyballs were still scattered across the floor.
He blew his whistle so hard the sound echoed through the walls.
"All of you, back here! Now!"
The girls who were supposed to handle the cleanup returned nervously—including Violet.
When everyone gathered, the teacher's voice was cold.
"What exactly did I ask you girls to do?"
One of them hesitantly answered,
"You asked us to pick up the balls, sir."
"And did you do that?"
"We… we did, sir."
"You did?" The teacher's eyebrows rose.
"Then why are there balls on the floor?"
The girls turned toward the mess—volleyballs lying there like evidence of their lie.
Their faces turned pale, then flushed with embarrassment.
One by one, they turned their glares toward Violet.
Violet met their eyes coolly.
Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward.
"Excuse me, sir," she said politely, "I did pick up my share of balls.
The others didn't."
She pulled out her phone, went to her gallery, pressed play, and showed the teacher the video of her calmly picking up six volleyballs earlier.
The teacher watched in silence before nodding sharply.
"Alright.
You can go, Miss De'ora."
The moment he said that, relief and smug satisfaction flickered across Violet's face.
She turned to leave—slowly, deliberately—her steps graceful and composed.
But just before walking out of the gym, with the teacher's back turned towards her, Violet raised both of her hands high.
Then two middle fingers.
With her tongue out.
Her signature "kiss my ass" gesture.
The teacher didn't see it.
But the girls did.
Oh, they definitely did.
Their eyes widened, fury burning behind them as Violet strutted out of the gym like she owned it.
Inside her head, Vira was practically rolling laughing out loud.
"Host, that was savage! , that was gold! , You didn't just slap them—you threw the whole gym at their faces!"
Violet smirked faintly.
"Good.
Maybe next time they'll actually do what they are supposed to do, and not look for trouble."
The door shut behind her, leaving a room full of red-faced girls and one very confused teacher.
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After a few days of blissful peace, Violet almost began to think the storm had passed.
Almost.
Because, of course, they only left her alone for a few days before starting their petty little acts again.
It began quietly—books missing, whispers in the hallway, snickers that stopped when she turned around.
Then one morning, all of Violet's notebooks vanished from her locker.
When she searched for them, everyone acted innocent.
Melissa, Gloria, and their little crew even laughed quietly in the corner, their smug smiles telling Violet everything she needed to know.
Victoria and Emery noticed too.
Emery's face twisted in anger, while Victoria crossed her arms.
"Violet," she said, "it's definitely them.
Melissa, Gloria, and their minions—they're the ones behind this."
Violet sighed, her expression calm but her eyes cold.
"Then we'll see how much fun they'll have when the tables turn."
And so, she made a plan
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That afternoon, after lunch, the bell rang for class.
When everyone returned, chaos erupted.
Every single notebook from Class 1A was gone.
All except Gloria's.
Students rushed out of their seats, running from locker to locker, searching frantically.
The noise was so loud that even the principal was notified.
Security was called, and the CCTV footage was checked.
There it was on the screen:
A man, entering the locker room first, quietly taking Violet's books.
Then handing them over to Gloria.
Gloria, caught on camera, poured the books into a bowl filled with water.
A few minutes later, the same man reappeared—this time taking everyone else's books except Gloria's, and dumping them into a large bucket of water.
The room fell silent.
The evidence was clear.
The teacher turned toward Gloria, whose face had gone pale.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Gloria trembled.
"I—I told him to take Violet's books! I swear!
I don't know anything about the others!"
No one believed her.
A few students recorded the CCTV screen with their phones, and within hours the entire school had seen it.
Every student who watched it were shocked about how bitter she was, ruining her reputation in the process.
But before the principal could even demand names, Gloria said one thing that froze everyone.
"It's my fault.
I did it.
No one else was involved."
And just like that, she took all the blame.
Because in the fan club, there was one rule above all others—
Never betray the club.
Even if it destroyed you.
Gloria took that vow more seriously than her own life.
That same afternoon, Gloria Smith was expelled from Imperial High.
When Melissa heard the news, she froze in her seat.
She didn't cry.
She didn't even speak.
But her clenched fists and trembling lashes said everything.
She was afraid.
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You might also be wondering where Andrea was during all of this.
Well, he wasn't there.
The top scorers from Class 4 had been chosen to represent Imperial High in an inter-academy mathematics debate competition.
Andrea, of course, was the captain of the team.
The competition would last six months, held across various regions.
He and the other competitors left the very same night he carried Violet to her dorm.
And so, as the rumors spread, as punishments fell, and as the school slowly calmed again—
Violet stood alone in the middle of it all.
Unbothered.
But not untouched.
Because even the strongest storms leave ripples behind.