The hallway outside the filming set was finally quiet. For the first time in the last hour, there were no shouted directions, no fake laughter for the cameras, no overdone perfume slogans bouncing off studio walls. The bright commercial lights had gone dim, leaving only the colder glow of the building’s interior system. White floor panels reflected faint blue strips of neon from the walls, making the entire corridor feel sterile and distant, like a hospital designed by someone with no soul.

  Laura walked through it with perfect balance. Every movement was smooth. Every step measured. Her heels clicked softly against the floor in a rhythm so consistent it almost sounded programmed. Her half purple, half green hair brushed against the white fabric on her shoulders. The metallic parts of her arms caught the cold light every few seconds, flashing like polished blades.

  Behind her, Jin Tu Moon followed with the lazy swagger of a man who had gone through life believing that desire was something women offered him by default. He looked her up and down shamelessly as they walked. A smirk spread across his face.

  “So,” he said, adjusting the collar of his expensive jacket, “you really couldn’t wait until later?”

  Laura did not look back at him. “Come into the room for a moment,” she said. Her tone was flat, almost absent, but there was still something suggestive in it. Not warmth. Not real seduction. More like a direct statement delivered by a machine that understood what men wanted to hear.

  Jin grinned wider. “And what exactly is waiting for me in there?”

  Laura stopped in front of a reinforced side door near the break room section of the studio. It was a less populated corner, one mostly ignored by the staff during shooting hours. A quiet place. The kind of place no one thought about unless they needed privacy. She turned to face him.

  “I want us to do something sexual.”

  Jin let out a low laugh. “Doing it with you? A cyborg?” His eyes moved down her body again, greedier this time. “That would be a new experience. I guess there is a first time for everything.”

  Laura stared at him without blinking. “If you are interested, come inside.”

  Interested. He almost laughed at the word. Interested was too weak. He was already imagining it. The thrill of secrecy after filming. A beautiful artificial woman with no awkwardness, no hesitation, no human drama. Just a body, a room, and his ego being rewarded yet again.

  “Sex after a commercial shoot,” he muttered to himself with satisfaction. “Exactly what I needed.” Then he looked at her again and smirked. “And with a stupid cyborg too. Wow. What a dream.”

  Laura reached for his hand. Her grip was cool. Firmer than he expected. Not affectionate. Not tender. Just controlled. “Before we go in,” she said, “cover your eyes with your hands.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “I want to undress first. It is a surprise.”

  For the first time, he looked properly excited. “Straight to the point, huh?”

  Laura said nothing. He chuckled and lifted both hands over his eyes. “Fine. I’m playing along. Don’t disappoint me.”

  She opened the door. He stepped into the room. The darkness inside was thick and immediate. The only light came from a faint emergency strip in the corner and a sliver of white from the hallway before the door shut behind him. Then came the metallic click. Locked.

  Jin was still smiling. “So?”

  Silence. He stood still in the dark, hands still covering his face. “Done already?”

  A woman’s voice answered him. “Yes, sweetie. I’m done.”

  His smile vanished instantly. That was not Laura’s voice. That voice was colder. Sharper. Human in a way that carried something worse than rage. It carried focus. “You can open your eyes now.”

  Slowly, Jin lowered his hands. His pupils adjusted to the dimness. And then he saw her.

  Caitlyn Theresa stood in front of him like she had been there all along. Her tight purple dress clung to her body with predatory elegance. Her long purple hair was tied up beautifully, every strand in place, not a trace of disorder in her appearance. Her makeup was flawless. Her turquoise eyes gleamed like cut glass. Her purple heels were planted firmly against the floor. She looked immaculate. She looked furious.

  Jin blinked in confusion. “Caitlyn? Where’s the cyborg?”

  A small smile touched Caitlyn’s lips. It was the kind of smile someone gives when they already know the ending of the scene and the person in front of them does not.

  “Laura?” she asked softly. Then she lifted one manicured finger and pointed upward. “She’s above you. Look.”

  Jin tilted his head back. At first he did not understand what he was seeing. A dark container hung above the chair near the wall, angled carefully, attached to a release line. Then Caitlyn pulled the cord.

  A splash of liquid came down fast. Not all of it. Just enough. The acid hit his face. The sound that tore out of him did not sound like language anymore. It was raw pain. Animal pain. Immediate, violent, panicked.

  “AAAHHHHHH!” He stumbled backward, grabbing at his face. “FUCK! FUCK! MY EYES!”

  He dropped to his knees. “You bitch! What the fuck is this?!” His hands flew desperately over his burning skin. He screamed again, louder this time, every nerve in his body exploding at once. “My eyes! My fucking eyes! I can’t see!”

  Caitlyn moved instantly. She caught him by both arms before he could collapse sideways, dragged him across the floor with frightening efficiency, and shoved him hard into a heavy chair positioned directly below the trap. Thick restraints were already attached to it. She forced his wrists down and snapped them shut around him one after the other.

  Jin thrashed and kicked. “Let me go! Let me go!” He tried to wrench his arms free, but the pain in his face ruined his coordination. He was blind, panicked, unbalanced. It made him weak.

  Caitlyn took a glass from the table beside her and threw cold water across his face. He gasped violently. The relief was tiny. Cruelly tiny.

  “Shhh,” she said. Her voice was low. Calm. Almost gentle. “Now listen to me.”

  She pulled another chair over and set it directly in front of him. Then she sat down with infuriating composure, crossed one leg over the other, and looked at him as if she were conducting an interview rather than torturing a man. Purple heel over purple heel. Perfect posture. Perfect makeup. Eyes burning like frozen fire.

  “I still need you functional,” she said. “So scream less and listen more.”

  Jin panted heavily, his face wet, red, burned, trembling. “Who the hell are you to do this to me?” he shouted. “Do you know who I am? Chuma! Somebody help me!”

  Outside the room, Chuma would not be helping anyone. He was sprawled unconscious in the hallway, slumped against the wall like a dropped bag of laundry. Laura stood over him, looking down with open indifference. “Stupid director,” she said quietly. Then she turned her head toward the door and listened to the muffled sounds inside. “Good luck, Caitlyn.”

  Inside, Caitlyn leaned forward. “Jin. You remember Ye Moon.”

  He froze. Not from recognition. From confusion. “What?”

  Caitlyn tilted her head. “Ye Moon.”

  He swallowed hard. “Who?”

  The slap cracked across his face so sharply that his head snapped to the side. “Focus. Your sister, you piece of trash.”

  Jin’s breathing became shorter. Somewhere under the fear and pain, something old stirred. Caitlyn’s fingers dug into the armrest of her chair. “You should have remembered her instantly. She died eighteen years ago, and you still make me say her name for you.”

  Jin tried to pull away from the sound of her voice. “What the hell does my sister have to do with this?”

  A tear slipped down Caitlyn’s cheek. She wiped it away with a sharp, annoyed motion, almost angry at herself for allowing it. “What does she have to do with this?” she repeated. Then she laughed once. It was an ugly sound. “You really want to ask me that.”

  “You’re insane,” Jin spat. “You are actually insane. You do this to me and you think you’re walking away? You’ll go to prison in seconds.”

  “Prison?” Caitlyn leaned back and smiled. “I am Caitlyn Theresa, baby. I decide how this ends.” She put one hand on her own chest and tapped a long purple nail against the fabric of her dress. “Leonardo is my boss. Leonardo covers my tracks. Leonardo will never let a man like you matter more than one of his own.”

  Her smile faded. “So no, Jin. Prison isn’t what I’m thinking about tonight.”

  Jin’s mouth trembled. “You’re lying.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m remembering.” She stared at him for a long moment. Then her voice dropped. “You’re probably wondering why I care. Let me show you.”

  Her fingers tightened around the edge of the chair. And the past came back. Not gently. Never gently. It came back with mud and shame and blood and a purple-haired girl who still believed the world might leave her alone if she asked politely.

  Eighteen years earlier, Caitlyn had been sixteen years old and still answered to Cait in her own head.

  She had stood outside the high school gates on her first day, adjusting the strap of her bag, trying not to look nervous. Her long purple hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. Her uniform was neat. Her makeup was almost nonexistent. Her expression carried the awkward determination of someone who had already decided she would survive high school by keeping her head down and her grades high.

  “Alright,” she whispered to herself. “This place looks awful, but whatever. Don’t get into trouble. Get the diploma. Leave.”

  Then she walked in. The first few minutes almost felt normal. The girl found the lockers, checked the room numbers, and held her books tightly against her chest, trying not to notice how many people were staring at her hair.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Then Becky Ginny arrived. Even before anyone said her name, Cait could tell what kind of girl she was. Beautiful in the clean, cruel way that turned school corridors into kingdoms. Blonde hair done perfectly. Short skirt. Lip gloss. Confidence dripping off every movement like perfume. Two girls trailed behind her. Two boys watched from nearby, ready to laugh at whatever she said next.

  Becky stopped in front of the purple-haired newcomer and looked her up and down. “Wow,” she said. “Should we stop everything?” Her friends giggled. Becky tilted her head and stared at her hair. “Is it Halloween already? What are you supposed to be?”

  The other girls burst out laughing. Cait’s eyes hardened instantly.

  “It’s my natural hair,” she said. “I can see the jealousy dripping off you and it’s okay. Not everyone gets blessed with a color this good. You’re literally just blonde.”

  One of Becky’s friends made an offended noise. Becky’s face changed. The smile stayed, but her eyes turned ugly. “Natural?” she said. “Bullshit. You dyed it for attention. You’ll regret talking to me like that.”

  Cait lifted her chin. “Try me.”

  Becky looked at her for one more second, then turned and walked away with her little audience trailing behind her like decorative dogs. The girl rolled her eyes, but the knot in her stomach had already formed. She understood something then. The first shot had been fired.

  The next day, Becky waited outside her classroom. As Cait stepped into the hallway, her foot slid forward violently. She crashed hard against the floor. Water. Becky had poured it across the tiles. The laughter came before the pain. Becky stood nearby with folded arms and a grin so smug it made her see red.

  “Told you,” Becky said. “You’d regret it.”

  The teenager stood up so fast her chair scraped back against the wall. She crossed the space between them and slapped Becky across the face with all the force she had. The hallway exploded. Becky touched her cheek slowly, then smiled wider. “Good,” she whispered. “Now this is going to be fun.”

  And it was fun. For Becky.

  The days that followed turned into open hunting season. Mud dumped over Cait's head in the school yard. Glue smeared over her locker. Whispers in every classroom. Laughter when she passed. Students moving away from her like bullying might be contagious if they stood too close. Teachers who noticed, frowned, promised vague action, and did nothing.

  She tried to fight back in words at first. Then in silence. Then in pure stubbornness. But humiliation is exhausting. Especially when it is daily. Especially when the whole school quietly agrees that your pain is entertainment.

  One afternoon Cait sat alone in the courtyard, trying to wipe dirt off her sleeves with shaking hands. She had stopped caring if anyone saw her cry. Not because she wanted to cry in public, but because she had simply run out of strength to hide it.

  That was when Ye Moon approached. She came carefully, as if she knew one wrong word might send the girl lashing out again. “Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Ye Moon.”

  Cait did not look up. “Go away.”

  Ye Moon hesitated. “I’m sorry for what’s happening to you.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Congratulations. That makes you the first person here with eyes.”

  “I don’t agree with them.”

  “Then what do you want, a medal?”

  Finally Cait looked up. And went quiet. Ye Moon was beautiful. Not in the polished, performative way girls like Becky were beautiful. There was something gentler about her. Black flowing hair. Warm brown eyes. A face that looked delicate until you noticed the scar that ran across one side of it, ugly and real and impossible to ignore.

  Ye Moon noticed the girl staring. “Your eyes are amazing,” she said quickly, almost as if she wanted to protect her from her own curiosity. “And your hair is perfect. Don’t let Becky make you forget that.”

  Cait blinked. Then she stared at the scar again. “What happened to your face?”

  Ye Moon’s hand rose unconsciously to her cheek. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  A pause. Then Ye Moon looked away. “My brother poured acid on me. He missed my eye. Barely. He’s in prison. But only for a year.”

  The purple-haired girl stared at her in disbelief. “For that?”

  Ye Moon laughed weakly, but it broke in the middle. “He’s a sadist. He always was.”

  Something shifted in Cait at that moment. Until then, everyone had felt far away. Cruel or passive, loud or useless, all of them part of the same blur. But Ye Moon was different. She was wounded in a way Cait understood instantly. Not the same wound. But the same loneliness.

  She reached out and took her hand. The gesture surprised both of them. “I’m sorry,” Cait said.

  Ye Moon looked at her. “I’m with you now, okay?”

  Ye Moon blinked, stunned. “We just met.”

  Cait gave the smallest smile. “Then congratulations. You can already call me your best friend.”

  For the first time, Ye Moon smiled like she believed life might actually allow her one nice thing. After that, they became inseparable. shared lunches, shared walks home, small comments that only the other understood.

  Becky noticed, of course. One day she cornered them in the yard. “Well, look at this,” Becky said loudly. “Halloween Witch found herself a scarred little pet.”

  Ye Moon’s jaw tightened. “Leave us alone,” she said.

  Becky walked closer. “Why? Are you two in love?”

  Cait took a step forward, but one of the boys moved immediately to block her path. For the first time, she hesitated. Becky grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

  Ye Moon was trembling by the time they left. Her friend put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  A few weeks later the school held its opening dance. Everyone got invitations except them. Cait stormed up to a teacher. “So let me get this straight. Every useless bitch in this building gets invited except us?”

  The teacher slapped her. Hard. “Get out,” the woman hissed. “You disrespectful little brat.”

  Cait stood frozen. Then Ye Moon rose from the back of the room, flipped her desk over with a violent crash, and walked out without saying a word.

  That night Cait went to her house. Ye Moon lived with her grandmother in a small place that smelled of soup and old wood. The girl arrived wearing a simple purple skirt and a soft pink top. Her hair was down. Ye Moon opened the door in a white dress and instantly forgot how to breathe.

  “You look amazing,” Ye Moon said.

  Cait smirked. “So do you.”

  They sat together and tried to make a fake version of the dance. Music from an old speaker, shared jokes about everyone they hated. Then the mood shifted. Cait noticed Ye Moon staring at her hand.

  “Ye Moon?”

  Ye Moon stood up suddenly and kissed her. It was clumsy, quick, panicked, and full of everything she had been trying to swallow for weeks. The teen jumped up in shock.

  “Ye Moon?”

  Ye Moon backed away instantly, already crying. “I’m sorry. I just... I fell in love with you. You saw me from the first second and I... I couldn’t stop feeling it. Please don’t leave.”

  Cait touched her own lips. Then she laughed softly through her surprise. “Your lips are really soft,” she murmured.

  She stepped closer and lifted a hand to cup the scarred cheek with unbelievable tenderness. “But if you’re with me against Becky... then I’m with you too.”

  Then she kissed her back. slowly. willingly. like she wanted to remember it. For one full minute the world disappeared and there was only warmth and relief.

  “Let’s leave some taste for next time,” Cait whispered when she pulled back.

  Ye Moon let out a shaky, happy laugh. Then, right before she left, Ye Moon ran to her and hugged her from behind. “I’m so alone,” she whispered. “If it wasn’t for you... I don’t think I’d want to keep coming to school.”

  Cait turned around, kissed her on the cheek, and held her tightly. “I’m with you. We’ll get through Becky together.”

  The next evening they went on a real date. A table near the promenade. Sea wind. Stolen wine. Ye Moon tried to hide her scar until Cait pulled a lipstick from her bag.

  “Here. Put this on.”

  Ye Moon shook her head. “It’ll draw attention.”

  The purple-haired girl stood up, lifted Ye Moon’s chin gently, and put the lipstick on her herself. “Listen to me. This scar isn’t some defect. It’s proof you survived. Femininity is power, not weakness.”

  Later they ran all the way to the pier, breathless, holding hands. “It looks like the ocean could wash every problem away,” Ye Moon said quietly.

  Cait wrapped her arms around her waist. “No sea is taking you away from me.” Then they kissed under the night sky.

  Two days later Becky attacked them with mud guns. They were drenched in seconds. The crowd laughed. Cait lunged forward, but was shoved hard backward. “Stay down, freak.”

  She stood there covered in mud, shaking. That was the moment something in her broke. Not visibly. It just snapped cleanly inside. That night she recorded a message for Ye Moon. “Don’t come to school tomorrow. Listen to me. I’m ending this.”

  Then she opened a drawer, took a knife, and left.

  The next morning Cait walked into class dressed in white. Her face was blank. Her eyes were dead calm. Becky sat in her usual seat. The girl stood up, pulled the knife out, and stabbed Becky in the back. A scream tore through the room. She yanked the blade free and stabbed her again in the chest.

  Chaos erupted. Cait stood over the body with blood on her hands and shouted at the room: “Back off! She made our lives hell for no reason!”

  She ran straight to Ye Moon’s house. “Ye Moon! I did it! It’s over!”

  Then she saw the body. Ye Moon hangs in the middle of the room. Still. Gone.

  Cait dropped to the floor. “No. No no no no no!”

  A newspaper lay nearby. The headline announced Jin Tu Moon’s early release. The girl cut Ye Moon down with shaking hands and pulled her into her arms, sobbing. She found the letter tucked into her clothes. Ye Moon wrote that she could not survive her brother's return. That she was too weak to face that terror again. That Cait had made her feel beautiful. That she loved her forever.

  When the police arrived, she was still on the floor holding Ye Moon’s body. She barely resisted.

  At trial, she was convicted and sent away. Three years in a juvenile facility, then transfer, then prison. She spoke very little. A girl with purple hair and turquoise eyes turned into something colder. Every night she thought about Ye Moon. And every night one name stood in the center: Jin Tu Moon.

  One day, a representative from the British military entered the visiting room. “I’ve been reading your file. You have focus. You have pain. You have potential.”

  Cait looked at him for a long time. Then nodded once.

  The memory released her slowly.

  Caitlyn came back to the room shaking. Tears ran down her cheeks now without permission. Jin sat in front of her, breathing hard, his face ruined, his arrogance gone. For the first time all night, he sounded human.

  “I was different back then,” he said hoarsely. “I was pathetic. I was disgusting. Please... please forgive me.”

  Caitlyn stood up so fast the chair scraped hard against the floor. Her fist smashed into his face with brutal force. “Shut up!” She was yelling now. Raw. “I will never forgive you. Never.”

  “But what am I guilty of?” he shouted desperately. “She chose to do it!”

  Caitlyn stared at him in disbelief. Then she started crying harder. “You are guilty because she was terrified of you. She knew you were getting out. She knew what you were.”

  Jin’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I was a kid too... I know it now.”

  “You poured acid on your own sister. You destroyed her face. You turned her life into a death sentence.”

  He bowed his head.

  “Laura,” she said. The door opened. “From this moment on, you’re accepted into ALKEN. But first, I want your opinion. Should he live or die?”

  Laura considered him. “If I decide, then die. However, permanent blindness and lifelong disfigurement may be more efficient.”

  A faint smile touched Caitlyn’s mouth. “There’s the answer I wanted.” She took out her phone and showed Laura the live feed from the hidden camera. “I’m not going to dirty my hands any further. Leonardo is waiting for me. I want him ruined. Pathetic. Broken. Scarred. Like the life he gave Ye Moon. But don’t kill him.”

  Laura nodded. “As you wish.”

  Caitlyn paused with her hand on the knob. “The greatest punishment is that he keeps living with what he made.”

  Jin started screaming as she left. In the hallway, she did not look back. Laura released the rest of the acid. His scream chased Caitlyn down the hallway.

  Thirty minutes later, she stepped into Leonardo’s office. Leonardo sat behind the desk in a black tuxedo. His blue eyes lifted to her. “You’re twenty minutes late,” he said. “Why?”

  Caitlyn closed the door and smiled sweetly. “I had urgent business. I recruited someone.”

  Leonardo’s hand struck the desk. “And why am I hearing this after the fact?”

  Caitlyn glanced at her phone—the feed showed writhing. She turned it off. “Sorry, Leonardosh. I’ll do the paperwork.”

  “Don’t play cute with me.”

  “Then don’t give me such a handsome face to play with.”

  Leonardo leaned back slightly. “Cait.” Her expression changed; he rarely called her that. “I didn’t call you here just to reprimand you. I want to take you for a drink.”

  Caitlyn stared. “A drink?” She laughed in disbelief. “I thought you wanted to punish me.”

  “I can do both,” he said dryly. “Tomorrow. Nine o’clock. Manchester. There’s a place I know.”

  Caitlyn crossed her arms. “And why exactly would I say yes?”

  Leonardo studied her. “Because I’m asking.”

  That actually got her. Sincerity. “Fine. But don’t think I’m easy. I’m only agreeing because they serve amazing Chambord there.”

  “I’m glad. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Don’t call me Leonardosh in public tomorrow.”

  She burst out laughing. “No promises.”

  “You’re dismissed.”

  She turned toward the door, blew him a kiss, and said, “Try not to wear the tuxedo. It’s boring.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  She left the office and leaned back against the door in the empty hallway. Her breathing came out shaky. A whisper slipped out of her mouth.

  “Fuck.” A tiny smile appeared. “Finally. He’s falling for me.”

  And somewhere far behind her, a man screamed for mercy that would never come.

  To be continued.