Chapter 1After They Forced Me Out of School, the Campus Tyrant Fell into a Ten-Year Depression

The first day of college, I fell for the campus tyrant at first sight.

But I never dared to get close.

After all, he was the son of the university’s biggest donor.

And I was just a scholarship kid who would starve without financial aid.

I thought it would be a quiet, four-year crush, a secret I’d carry alone. Then, the most popular girl in our class, Melinda, accused me of stealing her lipstick.

The campus tyrant, Robert, looked at me with disgust. "So your parents are poor. Does that mean they never taught you not to steal?"

He was right.

My parents had never taught me that.

They died when I was very young.

Because of that incident, I was forced to drop out.

Years later, I heard a rumor.

That same campus tyrant, in his senior year, had to take a leave of absence due to severe depression.

A depression that lasted for ten years.

* * *

Everyone was convinced I had used Melinda’s lipstick.

It was during gym class, and I was the only one who had stayed behind in the classroom.

They twisted the tube, revealing the lipstick bullet, which had been worn down into a strange, curved shape. "Never used lipstick before, have you? What kind of pig mouth do you have to ruin it like this?" one of them sneered.

Melinda tossed it aside in disgust. "It’s so gross."

Robert, who was standing with her, frowned, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt.

Suddenly, someone piped up. "Melinda, you should check the rest of your stuff. If she’d steal your lipstick, who knows what else she took."

"Yeah! I mean, you need a full face of makeup to go with the lipstick, right?"

The group erupted in laughter.

But Robert stopped Melinda as she reached for her bag. "Don't bother. Just check her bag. She probably has other people’s stuff in there, too."

Before I could react, someone grabbed my backpack and dumped everything out onto the floor.

A pile of worn-out secondhand books and a crumpled stack of one-dollar bills spilled out.

My face burned with shame as I knelt to gather my things. Suddenly, a pair of expensive leather shoes stepped on a small, red notebook.

"What's this?"

"Don't touch that!" I screamed at Melinda.

But my shout only made her grip the notebook tighter.