The Sinister Screen Queen

Ming Xia had not been born in this country, but it hardly mattered.

She might as well have been.

Her mother, a fierce and brilliant woman from South Korea, had followed love across oceans falling for a foreigner she met while they both worked at Samsung.

When he moved back to Britain for a new position, she came with him, bringing only her suitcase and the quiet fire in her chest.

Ming was born soon after. A child of two worlds. And neither one made room for her.

From her earliest memories, Ming had felt like a doll in the wrong toy chest… delicate, different, strange.

The other kids said it often enough. They whispered behind her back and sometimes right in front of her.

Creepy eyes, porcelain face, robot girl. Some said she looked fake. The cruelty shifted shapes, but never stopped.

Her parents tried their best.

"They're jealous." Her mother would say, brushing Ming's hair with gentle hands.

"They're wrong." Her father added, trying to convince her with logic. "You'll meet better people someday. Kinder ones."

Ming wanted to believe them. But kindness, as she learned, was a finite resource.

People offered it like charity until it became inconvenient.

She stopped expecting help after a while.

The kids who didn't bully her just watched. And the ones who cared enough to call a teacher eventually… didn't.

Their patience ran dry. Kindness grew cold. Empathy had an expiration date.

Ming wasn't weak. She had tried to fight back. Once. Twice.

Each time, the bullies just found it funny. Like poking a mouse and watching it bare its teeth before being crushed underfoot.

Her resistance only invited more attention, more creative cruelty.

So she learned.

She learned to perform.

A slight tremble in her hands. Eyes wide and glossed with false fear. Shoulders drawn in just enough to look brittle, but not interesting.

The mask of meekness. The art of looking broken.

And it worked. Most of the time.

It kept her isolated, yes… but safe.

She buried herself in textbooks, devouring knowledge with the same hunger others used to chase popularity.

Top grades. Perfect attendance. Flawless essays.

Her revenge wouldn't be fists or fire, it would be success.

One day she'd walk across a graduation stage, leave this pit behind, and rise in a world where none of them could touch her. Where every bully would rot in their mediocrity while she soared.

Until then, she survived.

That day had started like any other: school, silence, routine. And then predictably…

Two girls had dragged her into a bathroom, their eyes alive with sadistic glee, and started shaming her… it wasn't so bad.

Not many witnesses and thankfully, these two never went as far as physical abuse.

Ming began the performance. She gripped her bag tightly against her chest, knees knocking slightly, enough to look believable.

Her eyes widened… yes, add that fragile glisten, the right shade of terror. They liked that.

As everything was going boringly to plan, she hoped it ended quickly so she didn't make too bad an impression on her teacher again because of this.

Then something changed.

The bathroom door creaked open.

And in walked a girl Ming had never seen before. Brownish-black hair fell to her shoulders, and her skin had the soft glow of someone not quite old enough to be here, maybe a few years younger.

But what stopped everything, what froze the air in the room, was her eyes.

One blackish. One Blue.

Heterochromia.

Unnatural.

She appeared like she owned the place.

That girl strolled in like she'd bought the building with pocket change and was here to inspect the plumbing.

The bullies turned on her, of course. Tried to puff up and intimidate. Tried to sink their teeth into fresh prey.

It took less than a minute to crush them.

Ming hadn't even had time to gasp. What she saw wasn't some passionate defense or noble stand against injustice.

It was terrifyingly efficient.

She was worried they would attack her later in retaliation for this girl interfering.

But the young girl found their weakness and made sure they were powerless to resist, even if they wanted to.

Ming strokes the phone where she has the video and photos.

She'd rewatched the clip over and over again since then. It sat on her phone like a precious secret.

She'd already made backups, transferred copies to multiple drives. Just in case. In her world, security was sanity.

In the days that followed, the other bullies went quiet.

One by one, they were… dealt with. Ming didn't even get to see it happen. No encore.

Silence, finally. A blessed, golden peace.

And it hadn't come from a kind soul her mother always spoke of… the soft-hearted stranger who would stand by her side.

No. It came from her.

The girl with a predator's smile.

Tanya…

She was…. Amazing.

She wished she could repay her.

And now she could.

Tanya had called her.

How she'd gotten her number, Ming didn't ask. Maybe she didn't want to know. All Tanya had asked was.

"Do you have an ID?"

"Are you free on weekends?"

Ming hadn't even hesitated. "Yes. Anything. Yes."

Her mother had practically burst into happy tears, thrilled Ming finally had a friend. She didn't hesitate to approve the weekend outing. She'd even given her money.

Ming was already halfway down the stairs.

A ping lit up her Samsung screen, the birthday gift she'd thought she would never use for anything but schoolwork and weather alerts.

[We're here.]

She grinned, typed back.

[Coming!]

"I'm heading out, Mom!"

"Wait, I wanted to say hello to your new frie—"

Then she burst through the front door, barely pausing to shout back at her mom, "I'll be back before dinner!" and froze.

A car waited at the curb. A car that looked like it had time-traveled straight out of the 1960s, polished to a blinding shine.

It honked.

Ming blinked.

The passenger door swung open, and Tanya waved her in.

And there, in the driver's seat, sat a woman in a prim Victorian coat, hair in a bun, eyes bright as glass.

"Hi... I'm Ming Xia."

"Charmed, Mary Poppins, Tanya's Nanny." She said cheerfully.

Ming blinked again.

As she was trying not to look too bewildered, a bright-eyed girl beside her leaned over. "Hi! I'm Emilia Clarke, Tanya's deskmate."

"Deskmate?" Ming echoed, unsure if this was a school or a spy agency.

Then a third girl spoke up, smoothing her designer skirt. "Allegra. Allegra Versace."

She waits a beat for Ming to react.

"…Right." Ming said, still struggling to keep up.

Then she turned to Tanya, who gave a list of locations to Mary, places Ming didn't recognize but could already tell spelled trouble.

Tanya locked eyes with her and grinned like a shark.

With a flourish, she pulled out a suitcase, popped it open and revealed stacks of cash.

A few thousand pounds at least. Neatly arranged. Possibly smuggled in from another dimension.

Ming's jaw dropped.

"This, ladies, is 'Operation Loot & Ruin.' Don't ask about the name. Just enjoy it."

"Are we robbing someone or starting a hedge fund?" Emilia started to sweat.

"Why do you have that much money?" Ming questioned, wondering if it's not too late to flee.

"Simple. I'm going to invest in your future. Starting today. So, Ming… are you in?" Tanya asked, that dangerous twinkle dancing in her eyes.

Ming swallowed hard. Everything about this screamed no. Her sense of logic, her quiet routines, her life… they were waving red flags in unison.

But something else stirred in her too.

That part of her that had filmed the fight. Those kept copies.

She wanted, for once, to belong to something that didn't treat her like a porcelain doll.

She tightened her grip on her phone and straightened her spine.

"I'm ready."

God help her, she meant it.