By lunch break, my name had already died at least seventeen different deaths.
I knew that because I heard it.
Not directly.
I heard it in the way girls stopped talking when I walked past.
In the way people stared like I was a new trend they weren't sure to hate or copy.
In the way the corridor felt louder and quieter at the same time.
St. Elara High didn't need CCTV.
It had students.
And students had one job: spread chaos like it's their hobby.
I kept my head up anyway.
Not because I was fearless.
Because if you look down for even one second in this school, people treat it like you begged.
And I don't beg.
Not for respect.
Not for space.
Not for mercy.
I turned into the canteen, ready to buy my usual—one samosa, extra green chutney, and self-control.
My hand slipped into my pocket.
Coins.
A few notes.
Exactly enough.
Barely.
The canteen lady saw me and nodded like she knew my entire struggle.
"Same?" she asked.
I nodded. "Same."
I was taking the samosa when someone's voice sliced through the noise behind me.
"Move."
It wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It was the kind of voice that made people move instinctively, like their bodies knew the consequences before their brains did.
The crowd parted.
And there he was.
Kian Raizada.
Walking in like the canteen was his personal throne room and everyone else was just background.
His shirt was perfectly tucked.
His tie slightly loose like he'd done it on purpose.
His expression unreadable.
But his eyes?
His eyes were a warning label.
Girls around him looked like they forgot how to breathe.
One girl actually whispered, "He's so hot when he's mad."
I wanted to throw my samosa at her face.
Kian didn't even glance at the menu.
He didn't need to.
He didn't wait for his turn.
He just looked at the canteen lady.
"Coffee," he said. "Black."
The lady hurried like she was being timed.
I stood there, holding my samosa, trying to pretend I didn't notice him.
But my skin felt aware of him.
Like he had gravity.
Like my nerves were magnets.
He walked closer.
Too close.
Close enough that I could smell something expensive—like cold mint and bad decisions.
I didn't turn.
I focused on my plate like it was my soulmate.
But then he spoke again, quiet and sharp.
"You're in my space."
I finally looked at him.
"Your space?" I repeated, deadpan. "This is a canteen."
His lips barely moved, but his eyes did.
They darkened.
"Everything in this school is my space," he said.
I laughed once.
Not cute.
Not soft.
A real laugh, the kind that comes out when you're done being polite to idiots.
"That's adorable," I said. "You should put it in your bio."
A girl behind him gasped.
Another girl whispered, "Is she insane—"
Kian didn't blink.
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.
"Do you want attention that badly?" he asked.
My smile stayed.
But my heart started punching my ribs like it wanted out.
I held his gaze anyway.
"No," I said. "I just want people to stop acting like rich boys bullying kids is normal."
The word bullying made the air freeze again.
Like the canteen itself went silent to listen.
Kian's jaw clenched.
I saw it.
And for a split second, I thought he was going to say something cruel.
Something sharp enough to make me regret existing.
Instead, he smiled.
That slow, dangerous smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Then let's make it normal," he said.
"What?" I frowned.
He nodded toward the corner where a junior boy stood with his tray, staring at the floor.
The same kid.
The one from earlier.
He looked like he was trying to become invisible.
Kian's voice remained calm.
"Go on," he said. "Save him again."
My stomach tightened.
What kind of sick game was this?
I stepped forward immediately anyway, because my body reacts faster than my brain.
I walked toward the boy.
"Kya hua?" I asked softly.
The boy's eyes lifted, terrified.
He looked past me.
At Kian.
And my blood turned cold.
Because Kian wasn't alone.
The other three were entering the canteen.
Like the scene was scheduled.
Like the universe wanted maximum drama.
Rai Suryavanshi came in first—calm, composed, the kind of boy who looks like he never runs, never panics, never loses.
Armaan Kapoor followed, smiling like trouble wrapped in pretty packaging.
Zayn Malhotra came last—hands in pockets, gaze unreadable, giving "I don't care" energy while clearly caring.
All four boys in one place.
All four boys in the same frame.
Girls started whispering like they were live-commenting a movie.
"Oh my God, all four together…"
"This is the hottest canteen moment of the year."
"She's still standing there???"
"Bro, she's done."
I ignored them.
I focused on the boy.
"You okay?" I asked again.
His lips trembled. "Didi… please… just leave. Don't—don't fight them."
I swallowed.
That sentence hit harder than any insult.
Because it meant this wasn't new.
This wasn't a one-time thing.
This was a pattern.
And everyone had already accepted it.
I looked back at Kian.
He was watching me like he was bored.
Like he was waiting for me to break.
I held the boy's tray gently and placed it properly in his hands.
"Go sit," I told him. "Eat."
The boy nodded fast and hurried away.
Then I turned back, walking straight toward Kian again.
His eyes narrowed slightly, like he enjoyed my audacity.
"You're obsessed with playing hero," he said.
"I'm obsessed with basic humanity," I replied.
Kian's smile faded.
Rai stepped closer, his voice calm.
"Enough," he said.
Kian didn't look at him.
He was still staring at me like I was a problem he wanted to solve violently.
Then Armaan leaned against the counter, grinning.
"This is kinda cute," he said. "You're like… a pocket-sized warrior."
I glared. "I'm not pocket-sized."
Armaan's grin widened. "Then why do you sound like you want to bite me?"
Zayn snorted.
Actually snorted.
Like he found this funny.
Which was rare, judging by his "I hate everything" face.
I looked at Zayn.
He lifted his brows like, Relax, it's entertainment.
I hated all of them.
Kian took a slow step forward.
"Listen carefully," he said, voice low. "You embarrassed me today."
I didn't move.
"You deserved it," I said.
A few girls whispered "OHHH—" like they were watching a tennis match.
Kian's eyes sharpened.
"You think courage is cute," he said. "It's not. It's expensive."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
Kian's gaze flicked down my uniform.
My old bag.
My cheap shoes.
Then back to my face.
"You can't afford enemies, Anshu," he said softly.
My throat tightened.
I wanted to pretend it didn't hurt.
But it did.
Because he said it like a fact, not an insult.
Like he was pointing out something true.
I took a step closer.
Close enough that even the girls stopped breathing.
"You know what's funny?" I said quietly.
Kian's eyes didn't move.
I smiled.
"My whole life, people have reminded me what I can't afford."
I leaned in, voice steady.
"But I can always afford to do what's right."
The silence around us was so thick I could've cut it with my nails.
Armaan's grin faded.
Zayn's eyes darkened.
Rai's gaze sharpened like he suddenly saw me differently.
Kian didn't speak for a second.
And in that second—
I thought I won.
I thought I got to him.
Then Kian's hand lifted.
Slow.
Controlled.
And he reached for the tray in my hand.
The tray with my samosa.
My lunch.
My one small peace.
He took it.
And dropped it.
Right on the floor.
Samosa shattered.
Chutney smeared.
My stomach dropped with it.
A collective gasp rippled through the canteen.
My fingers curled into fists.
Not because of the food.
Because of what it meant.
Because he wanted to show me one thing:
I can take anything from you. Even the smallest thing.
I looked at the mess on the floor.
Then at him.
And my voice came out dangerously calm.
"You're pathetic."
Kian's eyes flashed.
His jaw clenched.
"You should've stayed quiet," he said.
I stepped closer.
"No," I said. "You should've stopped being disgusting."
Kian's expression darkened.
He leaned down slightly, voice dropping into my ear like poison.
"You want to win?" he whispered. "Fine."
My heartbeat spiked.
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
Then he said it—loud enough for everyone.
"Let's make a deal."
My brows furrowed.
"What deal?"
Kian's smile returned.
That villain smile.
"That junior you saved?" he said. "He gets to stay safe."
I froze.
Kian continued calmly.
"And you?" He glanced at my face like he was choosing the perfect weapon. "You spend one week doing exactly what I say."
The canteen erupted.
Girls whispered like they were about to pass out.
"A deal???"
"This is insane—"
"He's marking her."
"She's going to become his toy."
"No way she'll agree."
Armaan's eyes widened slightly, like even he didn't expect this.
Zayn's face went cold.
Rai's expression hardened—fast.
"Kian," Rai said sharply, voice warning.
Kian didn't look at Rai.
He was looking at me.
Waiting.
Testing.
I stared at him, my brain racing.
If I said no, the junior suffers.
If I said yes, I become his puppet.
Either way, he wins.
I felt everyone's eyes on me.
I felt the humiliation.
The anger.
The fear.
But fear has never been stronger than my stubbornness.
I smiled.
Slowly.
Sweetly.
Like I'd accepted defeat.
Kian's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then I said:
"I'll do it."
Gasps exploded.
Armaan muttered, "Oh—she's insane insane."
Zayn's jaw clenched.
Rai's eyes sharpened like he was about to step in.
Kian's smile turned victorious.
"You will?" he asked.
I nodded.
Then I added, still smiling:
"But I'm setting one rule too."
Kian's brows lifted.
"What rule?"
I stepped even closer.
And in front of the entire canteen, I said clearly:
"You don't touch anyone weaker than you again."
Kian's smile froze.
"And," I added, voice calm but lethal, "if you break it… I'll burn your reputation so bad even your money won't save you."
The canteen went dead silent again.
Kian stared at me for a long moment.
Then his smile returned—slow, dangerous.
"You're really something," he murmured.
I didn't flinch.
"I know," I said.
And then—
Rai moved.
He stepped between us so fast it was almost protective.
His voice was quiet, sharp enough to cut.
"You're done," he said to Kian.
Kian's eyes flicked to Rai.
Cold.
"Stay out of it," he replied.
Rai didn't blink.
"You're not playing with her," Rai said.
Armaan muttered under his breath, "Oh wow… he's serious."
Zayn's gaze snapped to Rai.
Like that line changed something.
Like it exposed something.
Kian's eyes returned to me.
And he smiled like a devil signing a contract.
"Deal," he said.
Then he leaned closer, voice low enough only I could hear.
"One week, rebel girl," he whispered. "Let's see how long you last."
My heart raced.
But I kept my face calm.
Because that's what courage is.
It's not being unafraid.
It's being terrified and still saying—
Try me.
I bent down, picked up my fallen tray, and walked away without looking back.
But I could feel it.
The canteen staring.
The girls whispering.
The Four Kings watching.
And now, the whole school had a new favorite story:
Poor girl vs Rich kings.
And I had a feeling—
I just made the kind of deal that ruins lives…
or rewrites them.