THIRD PERSON'S POV
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"Do you want to get sued again for defamation?"
"It's not like I'm lying. I've seen you vape countless times."
"Yeah—with a medical permit, you imbecile."
"It was fake."
"Several doctors approved it."
"Still a liar."
Ivy took a slow breath, her fingers still tapping rhythmically against the table. Albert dragged a hand down his face.
"Dude, how many times do they need to prove it to you?"
Daniel scoffed. "How many times did she sleep with you for you to defend her like that?"
"Daniel. Enough."
Sarah stared at him, shock written all over her face. The others looked just as confused.
"What are you even arguing about?" Nathan asked. "There's no need to insult each other."
Zoe leaned back slightly. "It's the information I sent you guys before. You didn't believe me."
George frowned. "It was real?"
"Yes. But one-sided."
All eyes turned to Ivy.
She finally spoke—calm, detached.
"I have nothing to prove to anyone. But you"—her gaze locked on Daniel—"better shut your mouth. I won't hesitate this time."
A pause.
"You keep accusing me because you don't want to believe your precious sister could do something like that." Her tone sharpened slightly. "I'm warning you. Don't cross the line."
She stood, grabbed her backpack, and walked out.
Daniel rolled his eyes and continued eating.
Albert shot him a glare and followed Ivy out.
The rest stayed—more for Sarah's sake than anything else.
Donald didn't sit.
He just stared at Daniel.
"I've never liked you."
"I don't care."
Donald picked up his bag and left.
One by one, the others finished in silence and followed.
For the rest of the month, Ivy withdrew even more.
She spoke only when necessary. Kept her distance. Stayed unreadable.
But the tension didn't disappear—it lingered, heavy and constant.
The others noticed.
They just didn't know how to approach her.
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Training Grounds
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The national tournament was approaching fast.
They were doing push-ups in their usual training spot while Renzo stood a distance away, smoking like he had nothing to do with their suffering.
Lily collapsed onto the grass.
"I'm tired."
"You've barely reached eight," George said.
"My arms hurt, boss."
He chuckled. "Fine. Ten-minute break. Don't say I'm evil."
Renzo's voice cut in from afar.
"Break? In my days I trained nonstop. Anyways enjoy, you weaklings."
Then he disappeared.
Everyone dropped instantly.
Everyone… except Ivy.
As usual, she walked off and sat under a tree, chewing bubblegum.
A silent agreement had formed over the weeks:
Don't push her. Don't pry.
But silence can only last so long.
Nathan was the first to move.
He walked over and sat beside her—no words, no questions.
Donald followed, water bottle in hand, sitting on her other side.
Then George.
Then Fiona.
Then Albert.
Lily came last—curling up against Ivy without hesitation.
Ivy stiffened slightly, raising a brow.
"…What are you all doing?"
"We're resting," George said simply, lying back on the grass.
Ivy looked at them, suspicious at first—like she was searching for an ulterior motive.
There was none.
Albert nudged her foot lightly with his.
That did it.
She relaxed—just a little.
For the first time in weeks…
Silence didn't feel heavy.
It felt… easy.
And somehow, that small moment eased something between them.
Training continued.
Time passed quickly.
And before they knew it—
It was time.
The national tournament.
This year, it was held in Country A.
Renzo blasted music loud enough to shake bones as he sped down the highway like a man with no fear of death.
Lily clung to Fiona.
"Why is he like this?!"
"It builds character," Donald said dryly.
"IT BUILDS TRAUMA!"
The moment the van stopped, they all rushed out like survivors escaping disaster.
Ivy stepped out last.
She paused.
Took a deep breath.
And smiled.
A real one.
Donald noticed immediately.
"Well, well… is that an actual smile?" he teased. "So you can smile."
It vanished instantly.
She side-eyed him.
He laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulders.
"Relax. Smile more. You look better like that."
She was just about to shove him off—
George stepped in on her other side.
"It's nice to see you happy, Ivy," he said. "Would you mind showing us around?"
She glanced between them.
Shot Donald a look.
Then nodded.
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Hotel
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The hotel was massive—sleek, polished, and clearly built to impress.
The receptionist greeted them warmly and handed over their keys.
The layout was familiar—like their apartment back at school. Five rooms, shared living space.
They settled in quickly, changed, and gathered in the living room.
Waiting.
Ivy returned a few minutes later.
Black shorts. Red crop top. White hoodie. Knee-length boots.
Her group bandana wrapped around her wrist.
She tossed matching bandanas and masks to each of them.
They caught them, confused.
Ivy smirked slightly.
"Country A loves entertainment," she explained. "The masks help you keep your privacy. People act like they don't recognize you. And the fans here know when to behave"
She tapped the symbol on the fabric.
"But this lets cameras know exactly who you are."
A pause.
"Ready?"
Lily's eyes lit up instantly.
One by one, they stood.
And for once—
Ivy matched Lily's energy.
She led them out, already starting the tour.