THIRD PERSON POV
Samantha had just finished answering a few of the principal's questions when the door abruptly opened.
And in walked Filia.
Right behind came Jharied.
Seeing them together, a mixture of fear, shame, and fury kicked Samantha in the chest.
"Miss Mereles," the principal said, "we need your side."
Filia kept quiet.
She sat down.
She didn't even look at Samantha.
And then Samantha began to realize:
She was no longer the pitiable one; she was to blame.
And that was the worst feeling she could endure. Her perfect scheme was promptly reversing on her.
"Miss Mereles, did what's in the video truly happen?
Filia said nothing at first.
She didn't answer right away.
But beside her, Jharied's look of concern was obvious.
"I didn't want it to go public," she said softly. "I didn't want it to go viral, sir."
The principal nodded. "But the footage is real?
She took a deep breath.
"…yes."
Samantha closed her eyes.
It was as if the ground beneath her feet had given way.
There was no escape.
"And do you want to press disciplinary action?" asked Principal Hernandez.
Filia did not answer right away.
Samantha felt her throat tighten.
"Fi… Filia…" she whispered, a desperate, muffled plea. "Please don't…"
Filia finally looked up.
And there she saw Samantha—
not angry, not arrogant,
but truly terrified.
But before Filia could form an answer—
"Yes."
Jharied cut off the girl's response.
Filia whirled immediately, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at the young man.
"Jharied…" she whispered weakly.
But the young man fixed his gaze straight on the principal.
"I'm filing on her behalf. Bullying. Physical assault. Harassment."
Samantha almost choked. She never thought Jharied would do this for Filia.
"What?! You can't do that! She didn't speak—!"
"She doesn't need to," he replied coldly.
"I'll handle this for her. You crossed the line, Samantha."
Samantha felt cold all over her body; her heart beat faster, and she was perspiring, though there was air conditioning.
She never thought Jharied himself would become her enemy.
"Miss Montana, considering the severity of the incident and taking into consideration the video evidence. the school will deliberate on the following sanctions:
* Minimum one-week suspension
* Removal from leadership positions
Compulsory sessions of counseling
* Possible legal complaint from the Mereles family
* Permanent disciplinary record
You will be called again tomorrow for the final decision.
Samantha swallowed hard.
She was crying, but silently.
"This is unfair…" she mumbled.
"It's the consequence of your actions," the principal replied.
After that, when they were about to leave the office, Samantha just couldn't keep it in.
"Filia," her voice took on a threatening tone, "you will surely pay for what you have done. I am not finished here."
Before Filia could strike back, Jharied planted himself squarely in Samantha's path.
"Try me, Sam."
His voice was hard, serious, devoid of any former affection.
Samantha froze.
Not because she was afraid—but because his tone hurt deeply.
"Jharied…" she whispered. "Even you?"
"Stop hurting Filia. Period."
It felt as though her world had come to an end. She never thought Jharied would be the first to turn against her.
"I'm not—"
"Just stop," he cut her off.
Off Jharied went, walking abreast with Filia.
It was then that Samantha finally gave way to tears.
Not because she was afraid.
Not because she was humiliated.
But because today…
she had lost.
And Filia—
the woman she hated the most—
was the cause of her downfall.
But one thing was certain:
Samantha wasn't finished.
Not today.
Not tomorrow.
And the fight…
was far from over.
______
The campus noise seemed to lift into the air the minute they stepped out of the Student Affairs office: the shouting, the whispers, and the eyes of students voracious for drama subsided. All that remained was the weight of what had just happened and the two people who didn't know how to resume a normal day: Filia and Jharied.
They walked in silence.
Not holding hands.
Not close.
But the tension between them was palpable, a thread slowly being pulled apart.
Filia grasped her bag strap firmly.
Jharied had taken two deep breaths to speak but still couldn't find the right words.
They were in the middle of the quadrangle, but Filia felt like they were the only two people in the world. She felt Jharied's gaze on her, but she refused to look back. She didn't know why—was she embarrassed? Annoyed? Or afraid of what she might feel if their eyes met?
"Filia…" Jharied called softly.
She didn't answer.
"Does it hurt?" he added.
Filia stopped.
She briefly closed her eyes.
Then she turned.
"Which one? My slap on Samantha or what she said to me in the locker room?" she replied sharply without holding her words back.
Jharied was taken aback by the bitterness in her response.
Yet he didn't back down.
"Your—" He pointed to Filia's cheek, "—that.
Only then did she realize that her cheek was slightly red—perhaps from Samantha's rough dragging or the chaotic fight.
Filia kept silent.
Jharied stepped closer.
Extremely close, so close that Filia could almost hear his heart beating in her ears.
He reached out and touched Filia's cheek slowly.
Lightly, carefully, as if afraid of hurting her further.
Filia's face flushed.
*Shit.
"Not really," she whispered.
"You shouldn't have been hurt," Jharied said with a serious expression on his face. "I shouldn't have let it happen. I should have found out immediately what she did in the locker room."
Filia was silent.
Not because she had no answer, but because she wasn't used to having this much care given to her.
Not mockery either.
Not like gossip.
Not like the shouting of people who only watched.
Jharied was different.
And that was terrifying.
"Why are you like this?" Filia said suddenly, unable to restrain herself.
"Like what?" Jharied asked.
"Concerned."
It was stressed.
It held avoidance.
It held fear.
Jharied raised an eyebrow.
"Do you not want me to be concerned?"
Filia stifled a sigh. "I didn't say—"
"Then let me," said Jharied, cutting in.
The sincerity in his voice was palpable.
He wasn't kidding.
He wasn't showing off.
"Let me worry about you…"
He paused, looking straight into Filia's eyes.
"…because I care." Filia's knees felt weak.
"What did you say?" she mumbled under her breath, but the words slipped out.
Jharied swallowed-he hadn't meant it, but it had come out anyway. He didn't take them back either.
"It's true," he added. Quietly, but firmly.
"Since earlier. Since yesterday. For days now." Filia didn't budge. She didn't know what to do with her heart: kill the feeling or nurture it.
"Jharied…" Filia clutched the edge of her uniform, fidgeting with the fabric.
"You don't need to do this." "I don't need to worry," he replied,
"but I do."
"You don't need to defend me." "Then why did I do it?" Jharied let out a soft chuckle not because he was amused—but because he didn't know how to explain himself.
"Filia, do you understand… you're driving me crazy." Filia frowned.
"Excuse me? I'm the one who—"
"No, I mean… the effect you have on me is driving me crazy." And just like that… Filia's brain seemed to short circuit.
"Huh?!" Jharied was smiling. A smile she couldn't decode. Warm. Dangerous. Perilous to the heart.
"Because… when they say bad things about you, I get agitated. When you cry, I want to declare war. When you fight back, I don't know whether to be happy or anxious.
" Filia laughed, forced. "This is such a weird day."
"Because I am telling the truth now," he replied.
Filia looked down. She didn't want to show she was affected.
She didn't want to show she was needy. But she felt it.
The warmth.
The sincerity.
The possibility.