WHAT A TWIST!

Chapter 113

I stood firm, my voice steady as I declared, "You don't have to worry, I'm not intimidated by her veiled threats. I'm not one to back down easily." But Hyun Min's response was not what I expected. He merely sighed and turned away, his eyes drifting to the mirror as he began to fix his hair, his fingers deftly smoothing out the strands. "I'll come meet you outside," he said, his tone laced with a hint of detachment.

My heart skipped a beat as I felt a spark of indignation ignite within me. "Are you implying I should leave?" I demanded, my voice rising in protest.

Hyun Min turned to face me, his expression softening as he took in my obvious irritation. "Babe,just for now, please," he coaxed, his voice low and soothing, like a gentle breeze on a summer day. "I'll come outside to meet you, and we'll figure things out together. Just stay close to your phone, okay?"

But I was beyond reason. I felt a surge of anger course through my veins as I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind me with a resounding crash. I could hear Hyun Min's voice calling out to me, his head poking out from the door as he pleaded for me to wait, to listen, but I was too far gone to heed his words.

What was wrong with me? Why was I so angry? I didn't know, but the feeling of being told to leave, even if it was just temporary, felt like a bitter pill to swallow. I was overreacting, I knew that, but the emotions swirling inside me refused to be tamed. I just needed to get out of there, to put some distance between us.

I stormed into my room, the door crashing shut behind me like a thunderclap, and made a beeline for the bedside table, yanking open the drawer to grab my phone. As I flopped onto the bed, the softness enveloped me, but my gaze fell upon the screen, and my heart sank like a stone. Multiple missed calls from Hyun Min stared back at me, and I let out a hiss of frustration, dropping the phone onto the bed as if it had scorched my fingers.

Just then, a loud bang on the door shattered the silence, and I leapt off the bed, crossing the room in a few swift strides. I flung open the door, and Racy burst in like a tempest, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity and her hair disheveled.

"What's wrong, Racy?" I asked, taken aback by her frantic demeanor, my voice tinged with concern.

Racy didn't waste any time, her words tumbling out in a frantic torrent. "I've been searching everywhere for you!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with an edge of desperation.

I let out a deep sigh, trying to calm her down, my patience wearing perilously thin. "What's the matter?" I asked, my tone measured, but laced with a hint of exasperation.

Racy held up her phone, her screen glowing with an image that seemed to freeze time itself, casting a spell of foreboding over the room. "Have you seen the viral photos on the school group?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with portent.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of trepidation creeping up my spine like a cold draft. "No, what's going on?" I asked, picking up my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I navigated to the group chat, my heart racing with anticipation. What could be so catastrophic that Racy was in such a state?

The photograph revealed a girl strolling hand in hand with a mysterious companion, his features shrouded by a nose mask, as they entered one of South Korea's most opulent hotels. I raised an eyebrow, my expression a mask of indifference. "Just a girl with a guy, I suppose," I remarked, my tone laced with a hint of ennui, wondering why Racy had stormed into my room with such fervor.

Racy's gaze locked onto mine, her eyes blazing with an unspoken intensity. "Don't you recognize her?" she pressed, her voice tinged with a sense of gravity.

I shook my head, scrutinizing the image with greater scrutiny. But as I zoomed in on the girl's countenance, my eyes widened in stunned amazement. "Wait, what in the world... Na Yeon!" I gasped, my voice barely audible, my mind reeling with the implications.

Racy's expression turned censorious, her lips curling into a disapproving smile. "Typical of her, isn't it?" she remarked, her tone dripping with scorn.

I looked up at Racy, perplexed. "But why is she does she have a brown hair here, when she's known for her signature blonde tresses?" I asked, my brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Racy shrugged, her shoulders barely rising off the floor. "A wig, perhaps," she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of worldliness.

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and I felt a surge of adrenaline as Racy's remark snapped me back to reality. "Get dressed, we need to get outside – now," she urged, her voice low and insistent. "The entire senior class is abuzz with this scandal, and I have a feeling things are about to get a lot more complicated."

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Racy and I stood amidst the sea of murmuring students, the whispers and gasps hanging in the air like a palpable mist. "Thanks," I said to Racy, my voice barely above a whisper, as she handed me a steaming cup of coffee. The aromatic scent wafted up, and I took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through my hands like a gentle caress.

As we navigated through the throngs of students, snippets of conversation floated through the air like tantalizing whispers. Every student we passed seemed to be fixated on Na Yeon's scandalous photos, their voices hushed but their faces alight with curiosity. "Who could have been behind the leak?" someone wondered, their voice barely audible.

Meanwhile, Na Yeon herself was conspicuous by her absence, and I couldn't help but ponder the irony of her situation. Just yesterday, she had been so fervently warning me about the perils of being with Hyun Min, and now it seemed she was embroiled in a scandal of her own, her name splashed across the school's grapevine like a scarlet letter. The double standard was almost laughable, and I couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath her polished facade.

The library, toilets,cafeteria and all conners of the school was abuzz with students,their faces animated as they huddled together in small groups. The news of Na Yeon's scandalous photos had spread like wildfire, and everyone was talking about it.

Some students stood in tight clusters, their voices hushed but their eyes wide with excitement. Others sat on the steps, their phones out as they scrolled through social media, searching for more information.

"I knew she was trouble," one student whispered to her friend, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of fascination and disdain.

"I don't believe it," another student said, shaking her head. "She's always seemed so perfect."

As the murmurs grew louder, more students began to gather, drawn in by the commotion. Some took out their phones, snapping photos or scrolling through their feeds, while others simply stood and stared, their faces agog with curiosity.

The atmosphere was electric, with a sense of schadenfreude hanging in the air. Na Yeon, the school's golden girl, had finally been caught in a compromising position, and everyone was eager to dissect the details.

As the crowd grew larger, the whispers began to coalesce into a single, unified hum, a buzz of excitement and speculation that seemed to pulse with its own energy. It was clear that this scandal would be the talk of the school for days to come.