AT ROYAL ACADEMY
Angela arrived at the school gate and took a slow breath, before forcing a small smile.
The campus was already alive with movement.
Students walked in groups, laughing and chatting as they made their way to class. Some had just arrived in sleek, expensive cars, stepping out with an air of confidence that came naturally to people who had never struggled a day in their lives.
Just then, a luxurious black car glided past Angela.
It was a sleek, glossy and classy, its polished body reflecting the morning sun. The windows were tinted, the kind that hid everything inside, and the engine purred softly, quiet, yet powerful. It was the kind of car that didn't just belong to wealth… it announced it.
Angela didn't need to guess who was inside.
Her heart skipped.
Chris.
She quickly walked toward the parking lot, her steps unconsciously faster. When the car finally came to a stop, she slipped behind a nearby pillar, hiding just enough to watch without being seen.
The driver stepped out first, opening the back door with practiced ease.
Then Chris emerged.
Angela's breath caught.
His hair was slightly spiky, styled in that effortless way that made it look like he hadn't tried at all. He wore his uniform casually, yet somehow, he made it look like a fashion statement. Tall, confident, and undeniably handsome.
Almost immediately, the girls rushed toward him.
"Chris! Good morning!"
"Can I get a selfie?"
"Please, just one autograph!"
Their voices overlapped, filled with excitement. Some clutched their phones tightly, others giggled nervously, while a few simply stared at him like he was a dream they didn't want to wake up from.
Chris smiled, just one simple smile, and it sent them into a frenzy.
Angela folded her arms and rolled her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh.
"Ridiculous…" she muttered under her breath.
Without sparing them another glance, she walked past the crowd and headed straight to her class, preparing herself for the day's lectures.
The lessons went smoothly.
For once, nothing felt out of place.
When school was over, Angela headed to the restroom to freshen up before leaving for the bar. After a few minutes, she returned to the classroom to pick up her bag.
She unzipped it, then paused. Her brows furrowed.
She searched again, this time more carefully, pushing aside her books and checking every corner of the bag.
Her clothes were gone. The red top. The jeans.
Gone.
A knot formed in her stomach.
"Someone must have taken them…" she whispered, her confusion quickly turning into anger.
But who?
She always kept to herself. She avoided trouble, stayed in her lane, never gave anyone a reason to target her.
Yet somehow… trouble had found her.
Angela straightened, her eyes scanning the room.
"Who the heck took my clothes from my bag?" she demanded, her voice sharp with fury.
A few students were still in the classroom, and all eyes immediately turned to her.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then...
"I did."
The voice came from the back of the class, calm, bold… and unapologetic.
Angela turned, her gaze locking onto the speaker.
"And what exactly where you planning to do with these clothes, huh?" the girl continued, her tone dripping with mockery. "Or should I say… what kind of job requires a dress like this, you slut?"
A ripple of laughter followed.
Angela felt the heat rise instantly within her.
Her fists clenched at her sides.
She could tolerate insults; she had heard enough of them to build a wall around her heart.
But this?
This was different.
No one, no one had the right to call her that.
Her eyes darkened as she stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the girl who had spoken.
Then she saw her clearly.
Angela stopped for a split second, shock flashing across her face.