The Video.

(KAIRA'S POV)

The whispers followed me everywhere.

I walked faster, my head down, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear anything else. But I could still hear them. The laughter. The cruel words. The way they said my name like it was a joke.

"She actually came to school today."

"I can't believe she's not hiding."

"After that video, I'd never show my face again."

I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I had to get away. Away from the stares. Away from the whispers. Away from all of it.

My feet carried me down the hallway, past the lockers, past the groups of students who parted like I was contagious. I could feel their eyes on me, burning into my back.

I had hearr them talking about a video and now I wondered what exactly was going on.

Finally, I saw the bathroom door.

I pushed it open and stumbled inside, my hands shaking so badly I could barely lock the door behind me.

I leaned against the cold tile wall and tried to breathe. But my lungs wouldn't cooperate. My chest was tight. My vision was blurry. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, threatening to spill over.

"No," I whispered to myself. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't give them the satisfaction."

But it was too late.

The first tear slipped down my cheek. Then another. And another.

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold floor, my knees pulled up to my chest. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to hold it together.

But I couldn't.

The tears came faster now, hot and relentless. My whole body was shaking. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control it.

I had been humiliated before. Countless times. But this felt different.

I reached for my phone with trembling hands. I needed to see it. I needed to know exactly what they were all laughing at.

I opened the app and there it was. The first video on my feed.

My face stared back at me from the screen. My terrified expression. The moment I hit the floor. The moment my skirt went up. The laughter. The pointing. The cruel comments.

I watched it once. Twice. Three times.

Each time, it hurt more.

My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone. I scrolled down to the comments, my heart racing.

"This is so embarrassing."

"She doesn't even deserve to go to this school."

"Can she not afford proper clothes? She looks so cheap."

"Why is she even here?"

"Loser."

"Oh my god, this is so sad."

"I bet she's crying right now."

"Good."

"She should just drop out."

"No one even likes her."

"She's a geek."

"I can't believe she's Slade Horton's stepsister now. What a downgrade for him."

"She doesn't belong here."

"She never belonged here."

I threw my phone across the bathroom floor. It hit the wall with a loud crack and fell silent.

I couldn't read any more. I couldn't bear it.

I buried my face in my knees and sobbed. Ugly, messy, desperate sobs that tore through my chest and left me gasping for air.

This wasn't just bullying. This was destruction. This was someone trying to break me completely.

And it was working.

I didn't know how long I sat there. Minutes. Hours. Time had stopped meaning anything.

All I knew was that my phone kept buzzing. Text after text. Notification after notification. Each one a knife in my heart.

I reached for it with a shaking hand and glanced at the screen.

Unknown number: "Did you see the video? So embarrassing."

Unknown number: "Maybe you should transfer to another school."

Unknown number: "How does it feel to be famous?"

I deleted them without reading the rest. I didn't want to see any more. I didn't want to know what they were saying.

I just wanted to disappear.

I sat in the bathroom stall, hugging my knees, rocking back and forth. The tears wouldn't stop. They just kept coming.

Everything I had worked for. Everything I had built. All the careful ways I had tried to stay invisible, to stay safe, to stay unnoticed.

Gone.

In a single moment. In a single video.

I thought about Mum. About how proud she was of me. About how she talked about my academic record, my dreams of becoming a writer.

What would she think when she saw this? What would she think when she realized her daughter was a laughingstock?

I thought about Tom. About how he had welcomed me into his home, treated me like family. What would he think when he realized he had married into a family with a daughter who was humiliating him?

I thought about Erica. About her kindness, her warmth. Would she still want to be friends with me after this?

I thought about Slade.

His coldness this morning. The way he had barely looked at me. The way he had said "Take care of yourself" like he was already saying goodbye.

Maybe he had seen it. Maybe that was why he had been so distant. Maybe he was embarrassed to be seen with me.

Maybe he regretted everything.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing the thought away. It hurt too much to think about. Everything hurt too much.

My phone buzzed again. I ignored it.

And again. I ignored it.

And again.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my phone and threw it into my bag, burying it under my books.

Then I hugged my knees and let the tears fall.

I must have been sitting there for hours. The bathroom was cold and quiet, except for my sobs.

But at some point, the tears stopped. They just dried up, like my body had finally run out of them.

I sat there in silence, staring at the wall. My eyes were swollen and red. My throat was raw. My heart was heavy.

I didn't want to move. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to face anyone ever again.

But I knew I couldn't stay here forever.

I forced myself to stand up, my legs weak and trembling. I walked to the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I barely recognized myself.

My face was blotchy and tear-streaked. My eyes were red and swollen. My hair had come loose from its bun, falling in messy strands around my face.

I looked broken. I looked beaten. I looked like someone who had given up.

I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the evidence of my tears. But it didn't help. The redness was still there. The puffiness. The sadness.

I dried my face with a paper towel and took a deep breath.

I could do this. I could get through this day. I could pretend that everything was okay.

But as I gathered my things and opened the bathroom door, I knew it was a lie.

The hallway was empty now. The bell must have rung. Everyone was in class.

I walked through the empty hallways, my footsteps echoing around me. I could still hear the whispers. Still feel the stares. Even though no one was there.

I made it to my first class and slipped in quietly, hoping to go unnoticed.

But I was wrong.

The moment I walked in, everyone turned to look at me. The teacher stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening.

"Miss Jin?" She said, her voice laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't. And everyone knew it.

I walked to my seat in the back of the room, feeling their eyes on me the whole way. I sat down and stared at my desk, my cheeks burning.

I could hear the whispers starting again. Soft at first. Then louder.

"I can't believe she's here."

"Did you see the video?"

"Someone posted it last night and it's already gone viral."

"Her face is so red. She's probably been crying."

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it all to go away. But it didn't. It just kept coming.

And I knew that this was just the beginning.

I had thought the worst was over. That the bullying would stop once Slade and I became stepsiblings.

But it was worse than ever.

And I didn't know if I could survive it this time.

I sat in my seat, my hands clenched in my lap, and tried to block out their voices.

But the whispers kept coming.

And I knew I would never escape them.