Chapter 2
Danielle strode down the hallway, her volleyball bag bouncing against her hip as she made her way to the gym. Afternoon practice was about to start, and as usual, her mind was already buzzing with strategies to lead her team to victory. In that moment, she was all business—focused, determined, and in full-on captain mode.
Then, she heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the tile floor.
She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
Minji was coming from the other end of the hall, walking with her usual flawless poise, each step measured and graceful. She had that ethereal quality, like someone who had never been touched by the real world. Danielle rolled her eyes, her gut tightening. The debate queen, striding confidently toward her next victory, no doubt.
Their eyes met, and for a split second, the world seemed to narrow. The unspoken rivalry crackled in the air between them—thick and sharp—like static before a lightning strike. Neither of them faltered in their steps, but the tension was palpable.
“Big debate coming up?” Danielle asked before she could stop herself. The words tumbled out, biting and casual, masking the irritation that lingered under the surface.
Minji’s eyebrow arched slightly, and the corners of her lips curled into that smug, infuriating smile. “You mean the usual?” she replied smoothly, her voice carrying the perfect balance of confidence and condescension. “Of course. It’s what I do best, even if it’s just practice.”
Danielle’s grip tightened around her volleyball bag strap, her knuckles going white. That flash of irritation bubbled up again. “Must be nice,” she shot back, “being the only one who can string a sentence together without tripping over your own words.”
Minji’s smile didn’t waver, but something flickered in her eyes—was it frustration? A brief crack in her perfect facade, like a tiny chink in her armor. Or maybe it was just Danielle imagining things. “It’s called being articulate,” Minji said coolly, her tone sharp but not cruel. “You should try it sometime. Might help you win one of those debates in your head.”
Danielle clenched her teeth, her jaw tightening as her mind raced for a response. She was about to fire back with something equally cutting, but before she could, her gaze fell to Minji’s polished shoes.
It was so ridiculous, the way this girl seemed to glide through life with such effortless ease. Danielle hated how it made her feel—like she was missing something, like no matter how hard she worked, she could never reach that level of perfection.
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, but she masked it quickly with a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Right. Articulate. Well, good luck with your team, Minji. I’m sure they’re all so grateful to have someone who can convince everyone they’re perfect. Must make winning so much easier.”
For a brief moment, Minji’s eyes flashed with something unreadable. But it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by that polished sneer that Danielle had come to know so well.
“I’ll leave the winning to you, Danielle,” Minji replied smoothly, her voice a touch sharper than before. Was it envy? “After all, who else could pretend to be the best at everything without actually focusing on anything for more than five minutes?”
The words hit harder than Danielle had expected. Her jaw clenched even tighter, and she had to force herself not to shove past Minji in frustration. Instead, she stood there for a second, her face burning with the weight of the insult.
This wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was something deeper—something more personal. Minji always seemed to be one step ahead, always out of reach.
But there was no way in hell she was going to let Minji see her crack. Not now, not ever.
“We’ll see who’s still standing after the volleyball season ends,” Danielle said through clenched teeth, forcing a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Minji’s eyes narrowed, and her chin tilted upward in that way that made Danielle want to knock it down. “I look forward to it,” she said smoothly, almost too calmly. “Maybe we’ll finally see who’s really got what it takes.”
With that, Minji turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd of students, in an attempt to leave Danielle standing there, who for a moment, couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Every word Minji had thrown at her stung, the way only Minji’s words could. Danielle hated how Minji had the power to make her feel so... small. However the Australian’s voice reached Minji’s ears, stopping her on the spot.
“You know, it’s funny, you’re so full of yourself even your best friend let you down” Danielle’s voice was full of mocking, a smug smile on her lips as she watched Minji turn carefully. She couldn’t let Minji get to her—not today. Not ever.
Minji’s face tensed, confused about what she could possibly mean. “What do you mean my best friend let me down?” She asked, her eyes getting slightly smaller as her burrows furrowed in even deeper confusion.
“I guess you’ll see when you arrive at your so loved debate club” She answered with confidence and turned around, continuing her walk towards the gym, forcing herself to focus on the practice ahead.
Minji simply stood there for a few seconds, her chest tight and her thoughts a whirlwind.
Shaking off the feeling, Minji took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, her posture stiffening as she continued to walk towards the debate room.
But somewhere deep down, that rivalry still burned, hotter and fiercer than before.
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Minji stepped into the debate room, her eyes scanning the crowd, searching for Hanni, Her childhood best friend. Her heart sped up when she realized Hanni wasn’t there. Where is she? The thought gnawed at her, an unease creeping into her chest.
She moved toward Kazuha, who was standing by the corner, absorbed in some debate notes. “Have you seen Hanni?” Minji asked, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety.
Kazuha looked up at her, confused by the urgency in her tone. “No, why?” she asked, but Minji didn’t have the time to answer. Her gaze darted to Taehyung across the room, and she made a beeline for him.
Taehyung smiled as he saw her approaching, ready to greet her, but the look on Minji’s face, tense and hurried, wiped the smile off his face.
Taehyung, have you seen Hanni?” Minji’s words tumbled out, faster with each beat of her heart. She was almost breathless as she asked, the unease growing stronger with every second that passed.
Taehyung blinked, his confusion evident. “Uh, no? Sorry, Minji,” he stammered, his hand running through his hair. He opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay, but Minji was already turning away. Before she could leave, Taehyung added quickly, “But I think I saw her heading toward the gym.”
Minji’s head had never snapped as fast, looking at the boy as if he had grown a second head. “The gym?”
“Yeah, why? What’s going on?” Taehyung asked, completely thrown off by her sudden shift in demeanor.
Minji muttered under her breath, “I’ll explain later.” Her voice was tight, the words clipped as she whirled around, jaw clenched so hard it felt like her teeth might shatter.
So that’s what Danielle meant? Minji thought, her stomach flipping with the realization.
She didn’t pause to consider her next steps, just turned on her heel and nearly ran toward the gym. The more she thought about it, the more the possibilities spiraled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last. She could feel her blood boiling, her frustration building.
“Hey, Min, what’s up?” Chaewon’s voice called out to her, but Minji didn’t slow down. She barely heard her friend’s words as she dashed past, focused entirely on reaching the gym.
When she entered the gym, her eyes immediately locked on Hanni. The sight hit her like a cold slap to the face. Hanni was laughing, her voice light and carefree, her posture relaxed as she stood beside Danielle and Hyien. The Australian was playfully nudging Hanni’s shoulder, a genuine smile on her face.
Minji’s stomach turned. Why was Hanni with them? Her eyes flicked from Hanni to the volleyball uniform she was wearing. Why was she in their uniform, and not in our club?
Her blood pressure spiked, her fists clenching involuntarily. The anger surged, but it was something deeper, more painful, than just irritation. Hanni had betrayed her.
Her breath quickened, her heart racing in her chest as she stood there, her body frozen, every fiber of her being screaming for her to leave. She wanted to storm out, but something held her in place. Her eyes locked with Danielle’s across the court, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.
Danielle’s gaze was cool, calculating, and then, almost as if she knew Minji was watching, a smirk tugged at her lips. It was so confident, so infuriatingly perfect, that Minji’s heart skipped a beat—a response she would never, ever admit. But there was no time to linger on that. Minji’s focus was torn back to Hanni as the girl, sensing her presence, turned to look at her.
As If noticing the Australian’s gaze was somewhere else, Hanni looked towards where Minji was standing in her immense fury.
Hanni’s eyes widened with fear, but Minji couldn’t muster any sympathy. Hanni should’ve known better than to be there—with them—without telling her. Minji's chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and full of disdain.
There was a reason she had not told the Korean, and it wasn’t because she didn’t care or whatever, she was SCARED of Minji’s anger, just like everyone (except Danielle).
The doors to the gym flew open with a loud bang as Minji stormed out, unable to bear the sight for another second. She heard Hanni’s frantic voice calling her name behind her, but it only made her push forward faster.
“Minji!” Hanni’s voice was strained, desperate, but Minji didn’t stop. She wouldn’t. Not until she had answers.
“Minji, wait up!” Hanni called again, panic creeping into her voice. “It’s not what it looks like!” Her words came out in a rush, her voice higher, almost pleading.
That was the last straw. Minji stopped in her tracks, her body rigid with fury. She turned around slowly, her veins almost visible under her skin. Her voice was low, dangerously controlled, as she bit out, “Not what it looks like?”
Her glare was withering. “YOU’RE IN THE VOLLEYBALL UNIFORM INSTEAD OF BEING IN OUR CLUB, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE?” Her fists clenched, her breathing heavy with the force of her anger.
Hanni flinched, but tried to move closer, reaching out toward Minji, her face contorted with guilt and a desperate need to explain, but Minji was faster, narrowing her eyes, her whole body accusing Hanni of something she could only call as treason. “And worst of it all, you’re laughing with Danielle” Minji spat Danielle’s name as if it was venom on her tongue.
“Minji, please, I—I’m still part of the club!” she stammered, but Minji was already shaking her head, disbelief and hurt flashing across her face.
“How? How are you still part of the club?” Minji's voice cracked, the edges of her control beginning to slip. “Thursdays are practice for both us and them! Our debates overlap with their games! How are you still part of our club when you’ve been wearing their uniform?” Her words were sharp and cutting, full of disbelief.
Hanni swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to explain, her words fumbling. “I—I still am, Minji. I didn’t leave. I’ll alternate weeks. One week I’m with the debate club, and the next week, I’m with the volleyball team. I’m still part of both. It’s just... it’s complicated.”
Minji’s breath caught in her throat, but the anger was still there, hot and immediate. "Alternating?" She laughed bitterly, the sound bitter and hollow. "You’re going to alternate? You really think that’s okay?" Her voice rose with each word, her disbelief giving way to an almost manic energy. “So, what? You’ll play both sides?”
Hanni’s face crumpled, and she stepped closer again, reaching out. “Minji, I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want you to find out like this, but you’ve got to understand—I didn’t want to give up either thing. I didn’t want to let you down, but I didn’t want to let volleyball go either.”
Minji’s gaze burned into her, but this time, something flickered in her eyes. A hint of hurt. “You didn’t want to let me down? You’ve already let me down, Hanni. You’re here with them, and you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I’d notice you wearing their uniform instead of being where you belong?” Her voice cracked, frustration choking the words.
Hanni’s eyes were wide with panic, her hands outstretched. “Minji, I’m still part of both. I promise, I didn’t mean to choose between you two. It’s not like that.”
Minji laughed again, but this time it was dry, humorless. She looked away, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me. We were best friends”
“We still are!” Hanni pleaded. “I’m trying to make it work. Please, just—just understand. I couldn’t pick one”
Minji shook her head. “I don’t know Han” Minji’s voice cracked a little, her head downwards.
“Please Minji, it’s just the volleyball club, I am not leaving you behind whatsoever” Hanni stepped forward once more, her voice going softer
“I just-” Minji stammered a little, her usual confident voice sounding more vulnerable in a way only the people closest to her had the chance to hear. “Let’s just talk tomorrow.”
Before Hanni could say another word, Minji turned sharply and walked away, her heart pounding, her entire body aching with the weight of the betrayal. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she couldn’t go back.
It might seem like a dumb reason, but Minji had always had trouble opening up to people, letting them close, and for her best friend to hide something like this, it wounded her terribly.
Hanni stood frozen, her chest tight, a bitter taste in her mouth as Minji disappeared into the distance. She was just grateful Minji had agreed to hear her the next day, meaning that this all could be resolved and that things could go back to the way it was.
So with that thought in mind, she turned back to the gym, where it seemed practice had already started.