Her insults keep ringing in your ear like a worm, making you dizzy.
"But of course," Charmaine purrs lazily, twirling a strand of her glossy hair. "I'm not that cruel. For your sake, I'll keep this between us."
You're not stupid. Charmaine's mercy doesn't come free—never will. Yet, you hold onto any sliver of silence she's willing to offer.
"What do you want?" you rasp.
"Yes! Now we're talking," she croons sweetly, her face contorting like a maniac. "Kneel. Kiss the floor. Like you should've from the start."
You freeze. Time slows, your heart pounding. It's stupid. It's cruel, but you have no way out.
You swallow hard, your pride crumbling piece by painful piece.
"Promise me," you whisper, voice trembling so hard you barely recognize it. "Promise me you'll keep it a secret."
Charmaine throws her head back and laughs—a cold, delighted sound that echoes off the tiled walls. "You're in no position to ask for promises," she sneers. "Look at you. LOOK at you."
You lower your gaze, your hands curling into fists, nails digging into your palms until you feel the sting of broken skin.
My mom doesn't deserve this! I don't deserve this either!
Your mother indeed worked as a hostess, entertaining the rich and powerful behind closed doors. But it was never dirty, never shameful—not the way people whispered it was.
She was dignified. She was kind. She wore every insult with a brittle smile, enduring it all to keep you fed, clothed, dreaming. And she's the reason why you are working hard.
But no matter how hard you worked. No matter how high you climb, your hard work is always overlooked.
Somehow, you're still the one on the floor. Already branded—a daughter of an immoral woman.
Charmaine steps forward, the glossy heel of her designer YSL shoes coming into view.
You close your eyes, your jaw trembling, and hold your breath as your lips touch the cold floor.
Just this once! I'll indulge you just this once! Next time, you will be the one bowing.
"You are not the main character here, so stop acting like one," she snarls.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, splash—ice-cold water hits your face and hair, soaking down your neck, your shirt, your pride.
You gasp and flinch, but remain still. Not yet.
Charmaine towers over you like a queen who's just executed justice. "There. Now, you look the part—an extra."
All of a sudden, the door bursts open and Vernon storms in, jaw clenched, and gives Charmaine a questioning look.
Seungkwan and DK trail behind, casual, like they're here for the drama.
Charmaine turns with a scoff, visibly annoyed. "Oh, great. The rescue squad," she snaps. "What are you now... her bodyguards?"
Vernon asks her, without removing his eyes from you. "What the hell are you doing?"
She rolls her eyes. "Please. She's fine. Just helping me scrub the floor." Her gaze lands on you, disgusted. "Aren't you?"
You stay motionless. Head down and just nod. Speaking means losing. Resisting means worse.
Charmaine huffs a laugh and flicks her hair over her shoulder. "See?" she mutters, "And stop wearing that sympathetic look. It doesn't suit your face."
Her heels crack against the tile as she stalks out. Each step taunting.
You're left kneeling. Shaking. For a moment, you're drowning in your emotions. Lost and alone, even with them here.
"For god's sake, get up," Seungkwan says sharply. "Clean yourself up."
You flinch, then force yourself up, gripping the sink. Your reflection stares back—red-eyed, empty. You barely recognize her.
"Please," you whisper. "Leave."
Vernon quietly shrugs off his hoodie and wraps it around you before going out, causing Seungkwan and DK to exchange a curious glance of why-do-you-even-care?
You clutch the hoodie tighter around yourself, blinking back the flood of tears threatening to spill.
East Wing — The Thirteen's Private Nook
"She kneeled," Vernon says tightly, each word like a slap. "Leigh made her kiss the floor."
Joshua's chair screeches across the marble as he surges to his feet. "She did what?"
DK stands up. "And don't forget the splashing!" He says dramatically.
The room buzzes with curiosity.
Across the room, Jeonghan lounges with a lazy smirk. "Tsk. I thought Aurora had a spine. Guess she's just another pretty puppet after all."
Dino flips a pen between his fingers, smirking. "All that fire... gone in one snap. How boring."
Seungkwan barks a sharp laugh. "Imagine. Barking at Seungcheol on day one, and now? On her knees for Leigh."
Woozi doesn't even glance up, his fingers moving across his tablet. "Oh, c'mon! Give her credit, will you? After all, she's still alive."
"Barely," Wonwoo replies.
Hoshi asks, "Since when did Leigh become so ruthless?"
Seungcheol tilts his head. "Well, it's that time of year again—the season for negotiations. Our families, somehow, need Mr. Leigh's influence to move the tides in our favor."
Minghao glances up briefly, a slight smirk on his face. "Oh! So, she's the 'untouchable' now, huh?"
"Well, that's infuriating," Dino chuckles, shaking his head.
Mingyu shrugs, unconcerned. "If she's untouchable, I'll send my early condolences to Aurora."
"Already sent mine," Hoshi jokingly replies.
Then, out of nowhere, Joshua slams his hand on the table, silencing everyone present.
"I'll make her mine," Joshua says coldly, like delivering a verdict.
Jeonghan's crisp laughter echoes in the room. "Make her what?"
"To protect her, I'll ask her to be my girlfriend," Joshua replies. His voice laced with finality.
Woozi lets out a sharp, disbelieving breath. "You're out of your mind."
DK leans forward, eyebrows shooting up. "Seriously? Her?"
Wonwoo smirks, lazy and cutting. "That's just pity. Give it a week. It'll pass."
Their laughter crackles, cruel and uneasy.
"I'm not like you," Joshua smiles — a tight, dead thing."And I'm not playing."
"No."
Seungcheol slowly rises from his chair. Puts his hands in his pockets to control himself.
"You won't," Seungcheol says, stepping closer.
Joshua lifts his chin. "Who's going to stop me?"
"You don't know what you're doing," Seungcheol says, "You don't know what you're inviting."
"She's mine to protect if I choose," Joshua snaps back, no longer hiding the heat under his usually calm demeanor. "And I'm choosing."
Seungcheol's jaw ticks. His hands ball into fists. He's the leader. The one they're supposed to follow without question. But today, Joshua isn't bowing.
Today, Joshua looks ready to burn the whole place down if Seungcheol tries to stop him.
"You think you're helping her?" Seungcheol grunts. "You'll be the one dragging her to hell."
"Isn't she here already?" Joshua retorts. He shrugs, mockery lines every edge of his body. "Maybe you're just scared. Scared she'll choose someone who isn't you."
Seungcheol moves before he thinks. "Are you mad?"
Joshua scoffs, "Am I wrong?"
Seungcheol lunges — raw fury — and Joshua is right there, ready to meet him.
Mingyu grabs Joshua around the chest, hauling him back with both arms.
"What the hell are you doing?" he grits out, fighting his weight.
Vernon slams into Seungcheol, both of them stumbling. "Enough!" Vernon growls, straining to hold him back. "Please, let's settle this peacefully."
The room erupts — chairs scraping, low curses flying.
Woozi mutters under his breath, tapping his fingers against his thigh.
"Knew this was coming," he says, bitter. "Joshua's always been the bleeding heart."
Dino, sitting by the edge of the windowsill, grins wolfishly, almost entertained. "Let them fight," he murmurs. "Let's see who bleeds first."
Seungkwan watches from his corner, flipping a pen between his fingers, his voice dry: "Fighting over a girl? This is madness!"
"This isn't about her. It's about control. Joshua just made it personal." Hoshi hums, devoid of his usual silliness.
Jun leans forward, smirking. "Let them kill each other," he mutters.
"Stop it! This isn't who we are!" Dk looks close to panic.
Minghao snorts from his corner. "No — this is exactly who we are."
Seungcheol shoves Vernon off, chest heaving, murder in his eyes.
For one breathless moment, they're nose to nose, the violence crackling like electricity between them.
Seungcheol's fists tightened in Joshua's shirt, the tendons in his arm straining.
Joshua's smirk barely wavers."Hit me," he whispers. "See how much better it makes you feel."
Jeonghan, usually lounging, suddenly snaps. "Are you both insane?" he roars, voice cutting through the chaos. "Over a girl?!"
His glass smashes to the floor as he throws it, shattering against the fireplace.
Seungcheol's whole body shudders once, then he releases him with a shove.
"Is this really about control, huh?" Joshua slumps against the wall, exhaling a laugh, rough and humorless.
"I know it's far from it."
Seungcheol's glare is pure murder. But he says nothing. He just storms out, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the chandeliers.
Joshua wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes burning with something between grim satisfaction and regret.
The rest of the Thirteen are left too stunned to speak with what the fuck just happened written on their faces.
On the way to the Maintenance Building...
You barely make it down the deserted hallway past the well-manicured garden on your way to your dorm when a hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist.
You yelp — but before you can react, you're pulled roughly into a shadowed alcove. Then, he steps closer and pins you down. Your back slamming on the cold wall with a thud.
It's Seungcheol, and he's furious.
His chest heaves like he ran the entire academy looking for you. His face barely an inch from yours, you can feel his warm breath fanning your lips, and it's stirring something inside you.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you manage to ask, trying to snake your way out.
"I should be the one asking you that." His voice is a raw whisper, low and splintered, barely human. "I will not let you off, Aurora. I will punish you for causing a rift among us."
Then he leaves you stunned, speechless.