Go Do-yoon froze.

For a second, he simply stared in the same direction as Cho Sa-rang.

Song Seung-il.

Choi Joo-kyung.

Standing far too close.

Even he thought it looked strange.

Still, he quickly snapped back to his senses and turned toward Sa-rang.

"Hey, it's okay," he said hurriedly. "Maybe you're misunderstanding. They could just be close fri—"

But before he could finish, Sa-rang ran.

No.

She fled.

Like someone escaping a burning building.

"Sa-rang!"

Go Do-yoon's eyes widened.

Without hesitation, he chased after her.

People turned to look as the two sprinted down the hallway.

"Wait!"

She didn't stop.

She couldn't stop.

Everything was too much.

The giant hate values.

The Instagram posts.

The red phone.

The betrayal.

And now this.

Her vision blurred.

She barely heard Do-yoon calling her name.

Behind her, Go Do-yoon had almost caught up when—

"Go Do-yoon!"

A teacher suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

"Perfect timing. Come help me carry these boxes."

"Teacher, I—"

"It's urgent."

"But—"

"No excuses."

Do-yoon looked desperately toward the end of the hallway.

Sa-rang's figure was disappearing.

His grip tightened.

"...Damn."

By the time he managed to free himself, she was gone.

Meanwhile, Sa-rang glanced behind her.

And her heart sank.

Go Do-yoon wasn't there anymore.

Even he stopped chasing me.

The thought hurt more than she expected.

She bit her lip.

Of course.

Why would anyone chase after her?

Why would anyone care?

By the time she came to her senses, she had somehow ended up in the abandoned janitor's storage room.

Nobody came here.

It was cramped and smelled faintly of detergent.

She had discovered it last year while hiding from PE class.

Today, it became her hiding place once again.

Sa-rang sat on an upside-down bucket and cried until she had no tears left.

At some point, exhaustion overcame sadness.

She almost fell asleep.

Almost.

Then—

Ding!

Her phone screen lit up.

Fourth Period starts in ten minutes.

"...Ah."

Right.

She still had class.

And that was somehow even more terrifying.

Because she had personally created her own nightmare.

Her deskmate?

Choi Joo-kyung.

Her best friend.

Correction.

Former best friend.

And the person she'd practically begged the teacher to seat her with.

Song Seung-il?

Right in front of them.

Because she thought it would be easier to talk to her boyfriend during breaks.

And who had enthusiastically asked for that arrangement?

Cho Sa-rang.

Lastly—

Go Do-yoon.

The boy she had a crush on.

Seated directly behind her.

Because she'd shamelessly begged the teacher to let him sit there after convincing herself she'd somehow become friends with him.

In other words—

She had handcrafted this disaster with her own two hands.

"...Amazing."

Sa-rang buried her face in her hands.

"What incredible foresight."

Truly.

What genius planning.

What unmatched luck.

Her best friend beside her.

Her boyfriend in front of her.

Her crush behind her.

All within arm's reach.

It would've been perfect.

If only her life hadn't decided to turn into a tragic soap opera.

Slowly, Sa-rang stood up.

She stared at her reflection in the dirty mirror hanging inside the storage room.

Her eyes were swollen.

Her hair was a mess.

She looked awful.

"...Let's go."

She took a deep breath.

No matter how embarrassing.

No matter how painful.

She still had to go back.

After all—

She had personally purchased a front-row seat to her own suffering.

And now, she had no choice but to sit through the show.