The first article appeared before dawn.
By the time students arrived at school, it had already spread across group chats and forums.
"Mysterious Transfer Student Close to Campus Idol—Coincidence or Strategy?"
She read the headline once.
Then again.
And then she locked her phone.
Lucien noticed the change in her immediately.
"You saw it," he said.
She nodded. "It's not the worst one."
That made his chest tighten.
They walked through the school gates together, the atmosphere heavier than usual. Whispers followed them like shadows. Some curious. Some jealous. Some sharp enough to hurt.
A teacher paused mid-step when she saw them together.
"So it's true," someone muttered nearby.
Lucien stopped walking.
She caught his sleeve instinctively. "Don't."
He looked at her. "You shouldn't have to carry this alone."
"I've carried worse," she replied quietly.
That wasn't something she was proud of.
It was just the truth.
During lunch, her phone vibrated nonstop.
Unknown numbers. Messages she didn't open. Notifications she ignored.
Lucien placed his phone face down on the table.
"I reported the article."
She looked up, surprised. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," he said. "They crossed a line."
She studied him for a moment.
Most people liked her because of who they thought she was.
Lucien stayed because of who she actually was.
That difference mattered.
Later that day, she was called to the dean's office.
Alone.
The room smelled faintly of old books and polished wood. The dean folded his hands together, expression unreadable.
"You're aware of the attention surrounding you," he said.
"Yes," she replied calmly.
"This school values its reputation."
"So do I," she answered. "Which is why I've followed every rule."
The dean studied her for a long moment.
"You're an exceptional student," he finally said. "But exceptional people are often watched more closely."
She nodded. "I understand."
When she left the office, her composure cracked just slightly.
Lucien was waiting outside.
"You didn't have to," she said.
"I told you," he replied. "I'm not leaving."
For the first time that day, her shoulders relaxed.
That evening, she sat alone in her room, lights dim, curtains drawn. Her phone buzzed again—this time with a message from her mother.
Stay focused. Don't let noise distract you.
She smiled faintly.
Her life had always been noise.
What she was learning now was how to choose what mattered.
She opened her notebook and began to write.
Not lyrics.
Not schedules.
Just thoughts.
Because no matter how bright the spotlight became, she refused to lose herself inside it.
And somewhere across the city, Lucien Cross made a quiet decision of his own.
If the world wanted to watch—
Then it would also see what it meant to stand beside someone without wavering.
The spotlight had found them.
What happened next would define everything.