There are a million ways to feel out of place.
Being a transfer student with no background check is one.Being the only girl in class with red hair, no entourage, and suspiciously perfect skin? That's another.But today? Today, I felt out of place because someone had taken my seat.
And I know how that sounds.Petty. Dumb. Childish.But when you're faking your entire identity, routine is survival. And that seat—back row, third from the left—was my anchor.
So when I walked in and saw Jin Bora sitting there, I froze.
She looked up, feigning mild surprise like a snake pretending to be a ribbon.— "Oh," she said, tucking her hair behind one ear. "Did you usually sit here?"
Not do you sit here.
Did you.
Past tense. Like my existence was negotiable.
I smiled the kind of smile that tasted like blood.— "Don't worry. I can adjust."
I slid into the seat next to her. Too close to ignore. Too far to punch.She turned back to her tablet like I'd already been deleted from her line of vision.
The teacher started class. I opened my notebook.
And for the next fifty minutes, I didn't hear a single word.
All I could think about was the way she'd looked at me—not curious, not hostile.
Just… calculating.
Like she already knew something she wasn't supposed to.
By lunch, I was still pretending not to care.
It wasn't going well.
Yuri and I sat together on the far side of the cafeteria—our unofficial neutral zone.
She was picking the tomatoes out of her salad like they owed her money.
— "You're tense," she said, not looking up.
— "You're observant."
— "And you're sarcastic when you're scared."
I stabbed my rice with a little too much commitment.— "I'm not scared."
She glanced at me.— "You're mad Bora took your seat?"
— "No," I said. "I'm mad she acted like it never mattered."
She shrugged.— "She's like that. Quiet poison."
I sighed.— "I liked it better when no one noticed me."
— "No, you didn't."
She wasn't wrong.
I had clawed my way up from invisible girl with no file to mysterious transfer student with the good test scores.People noticed now. They whispered. They speculated.
And if Jin Bora was starting to pay attention, it meant I'd officially made the enemy's radar.
I should've felt proud.
I mostly felt nauseous.
Across the cafeteria, Bora laughed at something Haeun said.
They didn't usually sit together.
Something twisted in my stomach.
Yuri followed my gaze.— "You think she's digging?"
— "I think someone gave her a shovel."
Yuri tapped her fork against the edge of her plate.— "You want my advice?"
— "Do I ever?"
She leaned in, voice low.— "Stop reacting. Don't give her anything. Let her guess. Make her nervous."
I stared at her.— "You're terrifying."
She smiled.— "That's why you keep me around."
The next day, the fire alarm went off halfway through third period.
Everyone scrambled into the hallway like overcooked popcorn.
I stood near the windows, arms crossed, trying not to look like I was spiraling inside.
Because right now—between the scent of hairspray and cheap deodorant—I could feel it:
Something had shifted.
Conversations stopped when I got close.
Whispers picked up when I walked away.
It wasn't just paranoia.
I was being watched.
And the worst part? I didn't know by who.
I leaned against the railing, eyes on the exit. My heart beat too fast, too loud. Like it knew something I didn't.
Then a voice slid behind me.
— "Nina."
I turned.
Rayan.
He looked the same as always—tired, unreadable, like he was trying to care less than he did.
— "Hey," I said, tone flat. "Nice day for a fake emergency."
He ignored the joke.— "Someone's circulating questions about you."
My throat tightened.
— "What kind of questions?"
He glanced around, lowered his voice.— "Where you came from. Why your file's thin. Why the admin system still flags you as 'pending'."
I tried to swallow, but it got stuck somewhere behind my pride.
— "And you're telling me because…?"
— "Because I don't like guessing games. And I really don't like being used as a pawn."
I blinked.— "Who said you were a pawn?"
He smiled without warmth.— "No one. Yet."
He walked away before I could answer.
I stared at the back of his head and realized something horrible:
If even he was suspicious, I was running out of places to hide.
That night, I stayed up way too late rereading my textbooks without actually absorbing anything.
The fan buzzed like a dying insect above me.
The city lights blinked through the window.
And inside, I was unraveling.
Not because someone might find out.
But because someone might ruin this version of me before I even had the chance to decide who she really was.
This identity—this Nina—had started as a survival mechanism.
A face. A uniform. A blank slate.
But now?
She had routines. Opinions. Favorite snacks.
She liked spicy tteokbokki and hated people who chewed loudly.
She flinched when people touched her unexpectedly.She liked Yuri's sarcastic tone and Rayan's silence and even the terrifying certainty in Haeun's voice.
She wanted things.
Not just safety.
More.
And that made her vulnerable.
Because once you start wanting more, you start realizing what you could lose.
I pressed my hands to my face, felt the skin that wasn't mine, the cheekbones someone else had earned, the lips that had never said Alma's name.
I was still hiding.
But the difference was—I wasn't just hiding from others.
I was hiding from myself.
A soft buzz from my cracked phone broke the silence.
A message.
Unknown number. One sentence:
"Meet me tomorrow. I know who you are."