"WHEN THE WORLD AROUND YOU IS BURNING, LOOK AT THE STARS."
Transfer student Minni Lee has a premonition. Not all is right at Newhurst University. Between a hateful blog post and the strange death of campus mean girl, Somin, exists a tangled mystery...
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YEOSANG WAS TWENTY MINUTES LATE.
Minni had been deliberately counting down the minutes until seven. Anxiety kept her on her feet. She had been ready over an hour ago, far too soon. The rest of the time was filled with mindless pacing. Checking the windows to make sure they were closed. Wriggling the door knobs to test the locks.
Now, she stared, eyes heavy and dull as she stood before in front of the floor-length mirror hung in the entryway. She could hardly recognize herself anymore. In a month, she had gone from ambitious and optimistic to a hollow shell. She was getting fed up with acting like someone she was not.
Not to mention her current get-up.
She blew out a breath and slid her hand over it, watching the thick fabric shift with the movement. The dress was beautiful in its simplicity. It fell to her knees in a wash of black, the lace paneling around the collar bordered by pearls. It was something too expensive, too soft, for someone like her.
She had nearly rejected it when Seulgi dropped it off days ago, stopped only by her glare and insistence that she keep it. For better or worse, Min was one of them now. She didn't have a choice but to fall in line and look the part while doing it. No one was above reminding her of that.
Halfway through her next round of the apartment, her phone finally buzzed.
(1) New text from unknown number:
Outside. Hurry up.
Her gaze swung to the window.
Sure enough, there were headlights filtering through the curtains, the purr of an engine idling just outside. Rolling her eyes, she took two seconds to make sure the swiss army knife she had tucked away earlier was still in the matching clutch. Then, she was out of the door and down the steps.
He had his back to her, cigarette smoke rising into the air where he was leaning against the hood. Even as she stepped closer, he seemed intent on staring into space.
"You're late."
He turned. His shoulders tensed for a moment as his eyes landed on her, the movement clunky to the point of clumsiness. Half of his face was eclipsed by the headlights, features muddied and unclear, but even then she could tell that he was staring.
It was not pervasive, but it was unwelcome, odd in its weight. Even stranger in its emptiness.
It was rare that she found herself under the same microscope she subjected others to. She didn't like it, not knowing what he saw in her or what he thought of it.
