HUXLEE
Friday, 1 PM
Lunch finally comes to an end, and the hallways begin filling with students heading back to their classrooms. Beside me, Ciela walks at an easy pace as we make our way down the crowded corridor. Since my classroom is closer, we'll reach it before hers. We spend the walk talking about random things, trying to enjoy the last few minutes before classes start again. When we finally stop in front of my classroom door, we exchange quick goodbyes.
"See you later," Ciela says with a small wave.
"After class," I reply.
She continues down the hallway while I head inside.
The classroom is already half full when I enter. Some students are chatting with their friends while others are reviewing notes for the next lesson. I settle into my seat and place my bag beside my desk, preparing myself for another lecture. The professor hasn't arrived yet, so the room remains noisy and relaxed. Then suddenly, a familiar buzzing sound fills the classroom.
The admin is supposed to reveal the person from yesterday's video.
I quickly pull my phone from my pocket and open the group chat. The moment the video loads onto my screen, my breath catches in my throat.
It's Nathalie.
The second-ranked student in our year. The girl who's always just one step behind me in the academic rankings.
For a few seconds, I can do nothing but stare at the screen. My mind refuses to process what I'm seeing. Out of all the people I expected to appear in the video, Nathalie was never one of them.
I immediately look up and search the classroom, but Nathalie is nowhere to be seen.
Around me, whispers immediately begin spreading like wildfire.
"I can't believe she actually did that."
"So that's why she's always so desperate to beat Huxlee."
"Honestly? I never expected it from her."
"Why am I so relieved it isn't Huxlee?"
"Looks like she's safe from today's drama."
The murmurs grow louder with every passing second.
I let out a quiet sigh and glance back at the video on my screen.
Why would she do something like this? Does she really want the top rank that badly?
Nathalie and I aren't exactly friends, but we've spoken a few times before. I still remember the day she approached me after class and asked how I always manage to stay at the top. I told her the truth, thatI study had but she looked unconvinced, as if she believed I was hiding some secret from her.
A few minutes later, the professor finally arrives. The moment she steps into the room, the conversations die down.
"Enough talking. Sit down and prepare for class," she says, placing her materials on the desk and giving the class a sharp look.
Reluctantly, everyone obeys. Even then, I can't help noticing that Nathalie's seat remains empty. Where is she? Did she skip class? Or is she too embarrassed to show up after what happened?
The lesson is just about to begin when a sudden loud thud echoes from outside. The sound is so heavy and unexpected that it makes everyone jump.
A split second later, terrified screams erupt from somewhere below.
The classroom goes completely silent for a second, then everyone moves at once. Students jump out of their seats and rush toward the windows, curiosity and alarm written across their faces. Chairs scrape harshly against the floor as they push past one another, eager to see what happened below.
Ms. Eve remains at the front of the room, her eyes widening in shock. "Everyone, back to your seats!" She orders but nobody listens.
"Prof, look!" one of my classmates suddenly calls from the window.
Ms. Eve hesitates for a second before reluctantly making her way toward the crowd. The moment she reaches the window and looks outside, all the color drains from her face.
I watch her expression carefully. Her eyes widen in horror, and her hand flies to her mouth as if she's trying to stop herself from gasping. She stumbles back a step, frozen in place.
A cold feeling settles in my stomach. Whatever she's seeing can't be good.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I quickly push my chair back before hurrying toward the window. Several students are already gathered there, staring down at something below. My heart begins to pound as I squeeze through the crowd and look outside.
The moment my eyes land on the scene beneath us, my breath catches in my throat.
A body lies motionless on the ground several floors below. A dark pool of blood spreads across the concrete, staining everything around it.
My eyes widen in shock as I recognize the person lying there.
It's Nathalie.
Even from this distance, I'm certain it's her.
Her eyes remain open, staring blankly into nothing. Her body is twisted at unnatural angles, likely from the impact of the fall. Blood covers her clothes, her skin, the concrete beneath her. The sight is so horrifying that I instinctively take a step back.
For a moment, the entire world seems to stop.
"H-Hello, there's an emergency..." a trembling voice says.
I turn toward the front of the room.
I turn and see Ms. Eve clutching her phone with shaky hands. She's already speaking to someone, probably emergency responders. Her voice sounds strained, as though she's struggling to stay calm.
A few seconds later, Ms. Eve lowers her phone and takes a deep breath. "Everyone, back to your seats. Now."
This time, no one argues. One by one, my classmates return to their desks. The atmosphere feels heavy, suffocating even. Nobody knows where to look.
Ms. Eve stands silently for a moment before forcing a weak smile. "So... ahm..." She clears her throat. "Let's continue where we left off."
The words sound strange after what we've just witnessed.
A student slowly raises his hand. "Wasn't that Nathalie?"
"Yes," she answers quietly. She wipes the sweat from her forehead. "I know it's shocking to see your classmate like that, but help is already on the way."
Several students exchange glances.
"But her bones are broken," someone mutters. "There's blood everywhere. It's already too late."
"Don't say that!" Ms. Eve exclaims, her voice cracking slightly.
The room falls silent.
Another student shrugs. "We're just telling the truth, ma'am."
For a brief moment, Ms. Eve says nothing. She simply stares at the floor. Then she gathers her papers and closes her laptop.
"It's self-study today." Without another word, she picks up her belongings and walks out of the classroom.
The moment the door closes behind her, the room erupts into conversation.
"Oh my God, my hands are still shaking."
"Same. I can't believe we actually saw that."
"Do you think she really killed herself because her secret got exposed?"
"I don't know."
"Ms. Eve looked completely devastated."
"Well, Nathalie was her favorite student."
"Yeah," another classmate agrees. "That's probably why she can't accept it."
Their voices blend together into a sea of casual discussion. And somehow, that bothers me more than the body lying outside.
I stare down at my desk.
Why does everyone seem to accept what happened so easily? Why are they talking about it like it's just another piece of gossip?
If they were in Nathalie's position, if their deepest secrets had been exposed for everyone to see, would they still be speaking so casually?
Nobody stops to think about how Nathalie must have felt. Nobody tries to imagine what it's like to have your deepest secret exposed for the entire school to see. Nobody wonders how terrified, humiliated, or alone she must have been. Instead, they talk about her like she's already become a story.
Suddenly, the familiar notification tone echoes throughout the classroom. The conversations die down almost instantly as dozens of phones begin chiming at the same time. The sound is enough to make my blood run cold.
With trembling fingers, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. My pulse pounds against my ears as I unlock the screen and open the group chat.
The admin has sent a message.
"What a surprise," the admin writes.
A few seconds pass before another message appears.
"I didn't know that girl would actually kill herself."
I clench my fists on top of the table so tightly that my knuckles turn white. My jaw locks as I stare at the screen of my phone, barely noticing the noise around me. Anger burns inside my chest, growing hotter with every second that passes.
I'm furious at the admin.
What do they really want? Why are they doing this? How many more secrets are they planning to expose before they're satisfied? And most importantly, what are they after?
Questions keep spinning through my mind, each one making my frustration grow stronger.
I want to send a message to the group chat and demand an explanation, but that's impossible. The admin has already removed everyone's permission to speak. The group chat isn't even a group chat anymore. It's more like a private announcement channel where we're all forced to watch from the sidelines. We can only read whatever the admin decides to post next.
My grip on my phone tightens. I swear, when I find out who that admin is, they're going to regret everything they've done.
A new notification suddenly appears.
“Okay, for the next blind item.”
A screenshot immediately follows the message. It's a conversation, but it is heavily censored.
I study the screenshot carefully, hoping to recognize something, anything, but it's impossible. There are no names, no profile pictures, and no clues that can reveal who the people involved are. It's just a censored conversation.
"Damn it," I mutter under my breath.
Frustrated, I exit the chat and open my contacts instead. I scroll through the list until I find Ciela's name and immediately tap the call button.
The phone rings several times before she finally answers.
"What's wrong?" she asks immediately.
"Nothing," I reply. "Well... have you heard about Nathalie?"
"Nathalie?" She pauses for a moment. "Wait... the girl who committed suicide?"
"Yeah." A heavy sigh escapes me.
"That must've been a shock for you," she says, her voice softening. "I heard she was always right behind you in the rankings.”
"She was."
For a brief moment, neither of us says anything.
"Hey, don't think about it too much, okay?" Ciela says gently. "Just focus on yourself. Study. Do your thing."
"Ciela, I..." I stop and take a deep breath. "I want to catch the admin."
The silence on the other end lasts barely a second.
"Really?" she says, sounding instantly energized. "Okay, are you free right now?"
I nod before realizing she can't see me. "Yeah. Ms. Eve left earlier and said we're having a self-study period today."
"Hmm." I can practically hear her thinking. "Let's be honest—you aren't going to study with all of this happening."
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. "Probably not."
"Good. Lucky for you, my professor stepped out too. Let's meet in the garden."
"Okay."
After ending the call, I let out a long sigh and slip my phone into my pocket.
The classroom is still buzzing with conversations as I stand up from my seat. Some students are discussing Nathalie, while others are obsessively checking the group chat.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the door. Before I can leave, a voice stops me.
"Where are you going, Huxlee?"
I glance over my shoulder and see the class president watching me from her seat.
"The library," I answer without hesitation. "I can't focus here because of the noise."
A few students exchange looks.
"Tsk. She probably doesn't even care about Nathalie."
"So it's our fault she can't study here?"
I don't bother responding. There's no point. People always assume they know what's going on inside someone else's head.
I tighten my grip on my bag strap until my fingers ache. Every whisper reaches my ears, every judgmental stare digs into my skin, but I refuse to give them the reaction they're looking for. Keeping my expression unreadable, I walk to the door and push it open.