TBBS 14

Chapter 14….

What are you going to take off next?

And so, Brangel remained an exemplary noble, while I, having just transferred a few days ago, had already fallen into the role of an opportunist and misfit.

I glared at my phone in disbelief when there was a knock at the door.

“Just a moment, I’ll come in.”

Olivia barged into my room with that simple greeting and snatched the phone from my hand. Then, without hesitation, she deleted the WG app I had painstakingly authenticated for the dormitory.

I smirked, letting her handle my phone.

“Isn’t that app necessary for school? You worked hard to authenticate it.”

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything important. If that’s not enough, you can authenticate it again.”

After that, a silence hung between us. Olivia glanced at me, and I had nothing to say. I had already explained to her that I’d met with Christina in the morning and cleared up any misunderstandings, so my own awkward state must have seemed funny.

“I know what you’re thinking right now.”

Olivia’s expensive amber eyes gleamed thoughtfully.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Even though I knew everyone hid behind anonymity to chat lightly, I was still hurt by the sharp words I’d seen on the bulletin board. My bruised heart hurt so much that I couldn’t muster any energy in my shoulders, no matter how hard I tried.

“…Actually, you don’t really know me either.”

When I said this gloomily, Olivia stared at me directly.

“Are you ignoring my ability to judge people?”

She spoke with what seemed like indignation.

“If there’s anything you think I’d be disappointed in, tell me now. If I see it’s really bad, I’ll authenticate the app again before leaving.”

“Still, you’ll re-authenticate the app?”

I asked, amused, but Olivia was completely serious.

“Of course. Do you think only Brangel has social responsibilities as a noble?”

I chuckled and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I live in Blue Line…”

Olivia immediately countered.

“But you’re living next door to me now, aren’t you?”

“That’s true, but also…”

As I mumbled four or five more trivial confessions, Olivia didn’t re-authenticate the app. Then she listed five of her own flaws—mostly insignificant—and we promised to keep each other’s weaknesses secret until graduation.

“I think I’ve comforted you enough, so no more crying off to study abroad.”

Olivia laughed lightly, setting an absurd condition before going to bed, and I couldn’t help but laugh along. Even if we returned to Zarva High School, Olivia’s worries were not really my world.

When Monday came, I realized just how many students were watching the dorm bulletin board. Every hallway echoed with the name Eric Brangel in the morning, then fell awkwardly silent whenever I approached.

But no one dared speak about it openly—until lunchtime, when I ran into Johan Nordfeldt in the cafeteria.

“Hey, socialist. You got pretty famous over the weekend, huh?”

I wasn’t sure if he’d figured out a certain family’s wealth from the tax calendar. I ignored him and sat down, but Olivia couldn’t.

“Nordfeldt, what did you just call Vivi?”

“Hmm? What did I say?”

As Johan shamelessly acted up, Christina and Karin appeared side by side and sat across from us. Christina, armed with her queenly dignity, frowned slightly.

“Enough, Johan.”

Like a scolded puppy, Nordfeldt pressed his lips together and left our table. Unbelievable.

The cafeteria fell into an awkward silence again, but Christina seemed oblivious.

“Sorry, Vivi. I tried to help, but it didn’t go as planned…”

Olivia dropped her jaw in disbelief, but Karin chimed in, agreeing with Christina.

“I also tried to help after hearing the story, but it’s hard for just the two of us to change the overall opinion.”

Yet, wasn’t the current school opinion actually favoring Christina? Eric Brangel hadn’t been tainted at all, and only the transfer student—me—was caught in the mess.

Still, I had no intention of analyzing the anonymous board posts or discussing them publicly. So, I answered while cutting an accordion-shaped potato with my fork and knife.

“Can’t be helped. Thanks for caring even though you’re busy.”

Life isn’t like squash.

“But I couldn’t really bear to see it, so I deleted the school app for a bit… You don’t have to worry about it anymore—it’s a hassle.”

Not everyone reacts the way you want. Having already failed to deal with Christina that morning, I tried my best again—without crying, complaining, or shouting—to kill her interest.

Judging by Christina and her friend’s dumbfounded faces, it seemed to work a little. Olivia had set down her fork with a displeased expression. I quickly tasted the potato I’d cut.

“This is good.”

“Really? Should I try some?”

Thanks to Olivia’s reaction, Karin slyly reached for the potatoes too, prompting Christina to scold her.

“Eat your salad first, Karin. Don’t you care about your GI?”

GI, whatever that is.

Defying Her Majesty, I ate the whole potato before starting on anything else. Olivia barely touched her food the entire time.

“Hey, Vivi.”

Eric Brangel, who never glanced at the anonymous board, seemed lucky. Meanwhile, I had become the target of the entire school’s malice just for appearing in a five-minute magic show. In afternoon class, I finally saw Eric, and he casually greeted me.

I knew Eric wasn’t the board’s moderator. But I wasn’t strong enough to smile naturally at him, nor did I want to draw attention by showing any unnecessary closeness.

So I muttered a faint “Hello” and quickly averted my gaze. Eric, who had paused to say something, clicked his tongue softly and walked away.

After class, I should have gone straight to the library but lingered in the classroom. Eric, despite his position, wasn’t like Christina—he did notice my attempts to avoid him. Perhaps because of that, he left the classroom first.

It only slightly delayed when we would meet again.

Intern work continued in uncomfortable silence. I tried to find tasks far away from Eric, and we avoided looking or speaking to each other unless necessary. Meanwhile, students kept sneaking glances at us.

Finally, at the end of the day, Eric’s patience—having tolerated my pitiful and rude behavior—seemed to reach its limit.

He asked quietly, “Did I make any mistakes with you over the weekend?”

Probably not.

He shouldn’t have acted as if it were our first date, nor should he have flaunted the rose magic or knelt obediently. It would have been best if he hadn’t come in Liam’s place at all.

Even though I knew all of it came from kindness, my overheated brain, worn out by unwanted attention, urged me to speak sharply.

“No way. Someone perfect like you wouldn’t make mistakes.”