Stumbling her way back home, Chaeyoung didn’t feel ready for the interrogation she would have to go through. She had enough to handle already- homework, funny memes and oh yeah, a blazing alleyway swarming with cops and ambulances.

Sure, the boys in blue will write on their notepads and scribble down notes, maybe look at the crime scene and take a few photos. But this case will be chucked into the pile of unimportance- after all, no one cares if a few homeless people died and many other injured. They wouldn’t be able to even pay the coverage fee, or get a lawyer to sue the perpetrators.

It would be best to leave this unsolved, because they already identified the criminals who were drunk enough to leave their wallets behind- John and Travis McGee, sons of the McGees who owned the largest corporation in the state and most of the high-rise buildings. With that much money backing their name, no one dared to charge them for any crimes, lest they feel the power of corruption and political support pressured on their backs.

All except Chaeyoung, who took the occasional free period to spray a startling red “V” on their company building- McGee Industries. V for Vendetta- one of her favorite movies, and particularly fitting in this context. A corrupt society controlled by one of the largest companies in the country, let alone the state. How very cliché.

Chaeyoung let out a little sigh as her feet hit familiar terrain- well-paved roads providing welcome comfort for her feet as she entered grove drive, home to the richest and most luxurious. Adorn with your typical fake neighbors and perfectly mowed lawns, Chaeyoung didn’t like it one bit.

Coming from someone who has lived life like this since birth, to most it would sound pretentious. After all, who doesn’t mind living 50 meters away from people like Shawn Mendes or some famous celebrity. Chaeyoung can’t share these thoughts to people who live at places like sundown street and shop houses, barely able to afford rent and running water.

All except her few and limited friends, consisting of Kim Dahyun and Minatozaki Sana. Known as the school’s angelic couple, called charitable mainly because they hang out with her- the school’s social pariah. Even sitting close to this social recluse would be considered social suicide, a jump from the pinnacle of the social food chain to a prey waiting to be eaten by circling sharks. These sharks also go by other names, like Chou Tzuyu and the notorious gang of class 04.

They take bullying to the next level, with dyed hair, painted lockers and stolen bags. Sure, they were hot, like on a Victoria- secret level, but their iness basically made people swallow pills. Literally. There were girls crying themselves to dehydration because of the witches of evil and tyranny.

Hence, Chaeyoung hated them with a passion. This was probably an understatement, evident in the scribbles and doodles in Chaeyoung’s dairy, most of which are of them with ugly features and vulgar exclamations accompanying them.

The worst part? She had a small teeny weeny crush on one of them, and they even used to be childhood friends. But then Tzuyu moved away, and came back reborn in the flames of damnation.

Feeling the telltale signs of tears welling up in her eyes, Chaeyoung frees one of her hands to rub her eyes, hating the emotional attachment that comes with tears. Emotions were a hassle anyways, especially when beating up bad people.

The familiar mansion came into view, and Chaeyoung let out a sigh of relief as she saw her maid Rose sprinting towards her with a motherly look of worry on her face.

“Son Chaeyoung!” The booming voice echoed across the courtyard, loud enough for Chaeyoung to look up in astonishment and worry. Seeing that woman storm towards you isn’t a very peaceful image, and the broom she was holding wasn’t reassuring Chaeyoung.

“Come here! What on earth happened?” Rose reached her, panting heavily as she grabbed Chaeyoung in a hug, giving Chaeyoung a whirlwind of emotions. Just this once, she would let the tears fall out.

And she did.

“It’s okay baby, you can’t stop everything.” Rose assures Chaeyoung as she dries her hair with a towel, the latter too tired to move.

“But I have powers, Rose. I mean I can freaking move cars with my mind, create fire, run really fast, but- “

“But what?” Rose turns Chaeyoung to face her, eyes radiating a silent warmth that calms Chaeyoung down enough to stop her sobbing. “It’s okay to cry, hear me? You aren’t superman, you’re 18! The only worry you should have is lipstick and mascara, my baby beast, not criminals and rapists. You can’t fight all the evil, no matter how strong you are. Superman falls too, you know. Not everyone can be as strong as they want to be, but they can continue working hard and living life to the fullest. You were given this power to help people, but I don’t want you to endanger yourself for them. Do you hear me?”

Her words soothe Chaeyoung, and she nods her head slowly as tears trickle down her cheeks. She knows crying is weakness, but being weak is exactly what she feels now.

Seeing the tears that stain the white satin sheets, Rose lets a pitiful smile spread on her face as she reaches to hug Chaeyoung, who latches on like a koala.

Slowly, the two hug for a long time, the spacious room filled with words that don’t need to be said, with actions that speak volumes.