jay's pov
we were back home and kuya angelo seems to know the reason
"Did he touch you?" kuya asked.
"n-no kuya , he behaved."i said avoiding his gaze .
"okay, well tomorrow there is something supremo queen and supremo king challenge in your school,are you taking part in it ?"kuya asked curiously.
"o-ooh kuya "i said.
godddddddd
i need to go to shopping
i drove to emilia's , the best designer .
she showed me many dresses.
i liked the red silk, high silt backless and sleveless grown , it was perfect.
it cost me 2500$ in dollars.
THE NEXT DAY
so basically we the baddies me, freya,mica,ella and grace had a challenge not to drool over our loverss and the mafia group which had keifer,yuri,percy,aries,and section e had the same thing to do not to drool over the baddies and if anyone from the team gets jealous it loses .
so yeah
i had the whole baddie eye makeup and my lips were so juicy and a low messy bun ,i wore heels .
it literally took me 3hr to get ready
i looked at the mirror , oh myygawddddddd , i was looking fucking sexy and hot.
MISSION-NO MERCY ON KEIFER.
we headed towards the venue and saw keifer .
spot him in the dark red suit and immediately regret every ounce of confidence I had five seconds ago. Not because I'm about to lose it—obviously not—but because he knows exactly what he's doing. The color suits him way too well, and that alone feels like a violation of our very serious no-drooling deal.
I straighten my posture, like that'll help, and give myself a mental reminder to act normal. Casual. Unbothered. I let my eyes flick over once—quick, respectful—and then I look away on purpose, because self-control deserves applause.
There's a smile tugging at my face, though, and I don't bother hiding it. I raise an eyebrow, half amused, half impressed, like I'm judging him for trying this hard. Inside, I'm congratulating myself for not staring and for pulling off the whole cool, confident, baddie vibe flawlessly.
Deal still intact.Barely-but intact.
He catches my expression, and I know it instantly-that tiny pause where he realizes I noticed. That's when I lean into it. I shift my weight, cross my arms, and let the smile turn just a little smug, like I'm completely winning this unspoken game.
I pretend to study literally anything else-the room, the lights, the floor-while being very aware of him standing there looking like that. It's almost funny how hard we're both trying. The deal echoes in my head like a referee's whistle: don't stare, don't react, don't lose.
So I keep it light. I tilt my head, give him a look that says nice try, and move on like my heart rate didn't just spike for absolutely no reason. Confidence first. Always.
If this is a test, I'm passing.And if it's not… I'm still enjoying it way too much.
And then it happens.
Some other girl walks up to him—too confident, too comfortable—and starts talking like she's been invited into the moment. I don't react right away. Of course I don't. I stay exactly where I am, expression neutral, posture perfect, pretending I don't notice anything at all.
Except… I do.
I catch myself watching the way he listens, the way he smiles politely, and suddenly the no-drooling deal feels way easier than the don't-care act I'm trying to pull off now. There's a tiny spark of irritation, sharp and unexpected, and I have to remind myself to breathe it out.
I tell myself it's nothing. He's allowed to talk to people. I know that. Still, my jaw tightens just a bit, and I cross my arms again—this time less for confidence and more to keep my reactions contained.
I look away first, because that's what winning looks like.But the feeling lingers.
Not dramatic. Not explosive.Just enough to remind me that I care—whether I planned to or not.