Chapter Text
The class ended quickly, with the professor finalizing the pairs. You headed straight to the student council office, retrieving your keys from your backpack to unlock the door. Flicking on the lights, you set your backpack down, grabbing your laptop before settling at the desk. Absorbed in your student council tasks, you were interrupted by a knock at the door. It swung open to reveal the tall figure of the dancer. "Hey, did the coordinator hand you the dance studio keys?" she asked, closing the door behind her and leaning against the wall with crossed arms.
"Hi. Sure, just let me check," you replied with a soft smile, reaching for the drawer filled with club keys. "Bada, right?" you asked, even though you knew the answer. "We need to go over the information Professor Wentz sent for tomorrow."
Bada rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's Bada," she confirmed, stepping closer to your desk. "I'll look into it later and text you."
Handing her the key, you watched as she snatched it from your hand. "Take good care of it, okay? I only have one spare. Anything else I can help you with?" you said with a smile.
"I know how to take care of my shit, Y/N," Bada retorted, her tone laced with irritation as she ignored your question. "So, mind your own business."
Confused, you frowned as the door opened again, revealing Gayoung entering the office. "Oh, hey, Bada," she greeted the dancer, placing her backpack on the floor.
Ignoring Gayoung, Bada stormed out, slamming the door behind her. "What the fuck—" you muttered, hoping the girl did not hear you. "She's been acting like this all day, I don’t know what’s up with her attitude."
"All day?" Gayoung asked, taking a seat opposite you. "Was she in your first class?"
"Yeah, and she's my partner in the investigation," you sighed, noticing Gayoung's expression shift. "What's wrong?"
"I've heard she's pretty careless about school. She only cares about the dance club," Gayoung remarked, shrugging her shoulders. "And word around is, she's not exactly fond of you."
Confusion flashed in your eyes as you turned to Gayoung. "What do you mean?" you asked, and Gayoung let out a chuckle. "She hates me or something?"
"Remember when the administration made us evaluate the university's clubs?" the older girl asked, and you nodded, recalling the previous semester when the student council had to evaluate the clubs' leadership and organization. The poetry club ranked first, followed by the foreign language club, the reading and writing club, the sports club, and finally, the dance club. "Well, she found out everything you wrote in the evaluation."
"But, I mean—everything I said was true. Her club is consistently messy and disorganized, and there's always some drama at their events where she gets angry with her club members. I didn't lie—she just lacks the leadership skills required to manage a club," you defended, not missing a beat. Gayoung nodded in understanding. "If it hit a nerve, it's because there was some truth to it."
"Well, she didn't take it well at all. She went off on you, calling you a 'smart bitch' who's always trying to control people," Gayoung revealed, and you could not help but let out a giggle. "I've got the screenshots—Yeni sent them to me. Want to take a look?"
Gayoung retrieved her phone and opened her chat with Yeni, searching for the screenshots. Once found, she handed her phone over to you. As you examined the screenshots, it revealed the dance club leader's venomous words: calling you a bitch, accusing you of craving attention as the president, saying how stupid you were for thinking you were smarter than anyone else, and expressing outright hatred towards you.
"And now I'm paired up with her for both the investigation and the congress," you muttered, unbelieving at your unfortunate luck, handing Gayoung her phone back. "Let's see what happens."
The day flew by, with just two classes in your schedule. Gayoung dropped you off at your apartment, and once you entered your room, you collapsed onto your bed. You grabbed your phone and noticed a notification, likely from Bada.
+821055570582: i checked wentz’s email
+821055570582: we just have to read, right?
+821055570582: if it’s just reading everything, i did it [2:23 p.m]
You were taken aback by her initiative in reaching out and reading Professor Wentz's email, especially after discussing her laziness and her sentiments towards you. It brought a slight sense of relief, increasing your hopes that perhaps working with her would not be as difficult as initially thought.
y/n: yes, just reading!
y/n: i was wondering, would you like to work in the library or in the student council office?
y/n: my office is always nice and we have a coffee maker and snacks :) [2:44 p.m]
bada lee: your office is fine
bada lee: ig see you tomorrow
bada lee: after class, we can work on the investigation [2:46 p.m]
y/n: what about your club? [2:46 p.m]
bada lee: why the sudden interest? LOL
bada lee: after all, we’re unorganized and messy, right? [2:47 p.m]
You could not help but roll your eyes as you read her recounting the evaluation. You sighed, questioning why she was so bothered by it—after all, there were no consequences for her; it was merely a task you carried out as the president. It seemed your words had struck a nerve, even though they were only adjectives. What was so terrible about being labeled unorganized and messy when it was true? When facing criticism as a leader, it should serve as a motivation for improvement, not a reason for offense. Throughout your term as president, you learned to acknowledge your mistakes, recognizing that is what makes you human.
y/n: i was just asking lol
y/n: see you tomorrow, have a good day [2:48 p.m]