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The M Branch Painting Building stood tall, its minimalist design catching the late afternoon sunlight. Floor-to-ceiling glass panels wrapped around the curved structure, reflecting the bustling street outside. A delicate silver plaque near the entrance read: M Visual Arts Division – Headquarters. Inside, the air was crisp and clean, scented faintly with lavender. The lobby floor shimmered with polished marble, and paintings from past winners adorned the walls like silent judges.
Maria stepped inside, her boots tapping softly as she walked to the marble counter where a young receptionist greeted her with a polite smile.
"I'm here to register for the painting competition," she said calmly.
The receptionist nodded and motioned to the hallway on the left. "Please head into the waiting room. Someone will call your name soon."
Maria walked toward the large waiting lounge with floor-length curtains and modern canvas displays arranged on the walls. It was quiet, peaceful—until she stepped in and saw her.
Ivy.
She was seated gracefully on a velvet bench near the tall windows, flanked by two girls dressed in designer pastels. They were flipping through sketchbooks and whispering, but all three paused when they noticed Maria's entrance.
Ivy's face tensed for a second, her lips twitching in surprise before she gently lowered her eyes—an act. One of her hands clutched her sketchbook a bit tighter, but the delicate smile returned quickly, like it had never faltered.
Maria took a seat on the opposite side of the room without sparing them more than a glance. But Ivy's friends weren't as subtle.
What happened ivy one of the friend asked
"Nothing just saw a friend and I'm just shocked she joined the competition even as her family have some financial problems she is always like this not there for her family no matter how I try telling her that she always get aggressive and she will do anything to win like last time..... forget about it Maria said as she lower her gaze
Soon after everyone completed their registration and returned to the lounge, the room began to fill with quiet murmurs. Ivy's friends sat up a little straighter, voices just loud enough to be heard by the whole room—especially Maria.
"I heard someone's family's company is in a mess lately… but here they are, joining competitions like nothing's wrong," one girl said lightly, eyes flicking toward Maria and back to her notebook.
The other girl snorted softly. "Some people just can't stand being out of the spotlight. Must be nice to have confidence when your whole house is burning."
Ivy let out a faint gasp, setting down her pen. "Guys, don't be like that…" she said with a soft frown, voice feather-light. "She's been through a lot. Maybe painting helps her cope. We shouldn't judge her like this."
Maria raised her eyebrows slightly. There it is.
"But still," the first girl continued, "joining the M-Branch competition when everyone knows about her family's situation? I'd be too embarrassed to show my face."
"Maybe this is her last chance to make a name," the second one chimed in. "Before everything crumbles."
Ivy sighed quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "She really is talented… but she takes things too far sometimes. I just hope she doesn't do anything reckless again…"
Maria's fingers tapped rhythmically on her sketchpad, her face calm—expressionless even—but her mind burned.
Reckless? You mean like letting you steal my painting in the past life while everyone praised your fake tears?
She didn't speak, didn't flinch. Just smiled faintly as if amused.
Let them play.
This time, she would be the one holding the brush—and writing the ending.
Maria tilted her head slightly, her eyes soft and voice laced with concern as she stepped toward them.
"Ivy, bestie… you're here," she said gently, almost like she was touched. "You really are talented. After everything you went through—coming out of the mental hospital due to your dangerous split personality—it hasn't even been a day, yet you've already signed up for the competition?"
She placed a hand lightly over her chest, as if genuinely impressed. "I should really learn from your strength. I mean, my family's dealing with a little financial situation, and even I had second thoughts about participating. But you… you've gone through so much more."
Her voice dipped just a little, thoughtful and quiet, as if worried. "Your condition was really dangerous, right? You nearly hurt me and others multiple times. But still, you showed up. That takes courage."
Maria smiled faintly, as if sincerely supportive.
"I just hope things like last time don't repeat themselves," she added, in a gentle murmur. "Like when your fan accidentally switched our paintings so you would win… and the whole bribing-the-judge thing. It was such a mess. Poor fan nearly ended their life, all to protect you. But I know you would never ask for something like that. Right?"
She gave Ivy a kind, knowing nod.
"Then again, your split personality back then was very… unstable. It really went after anyone better than you. But I'm sure it's cured now. You wouldn't let your fans hurt anyone else either, right?"
Maria offered a small, hopeful smile. "They're just… really passionate. Like what happened to Kira? It was so unfortunate. She only glared at you, and somehow her nudes got leaked and she was bullied badly. But I always thought that was just a coincidence. You'd never want that to happen to anyone."
She leaned in just a bit, her voice still sweet. "I'm glad people are still willing to be friends with you. That really shows forgiveness. We're all in this together, right?"
The two girls beside Ivy shifted uncomfortably as other students began to whisper and glance over. Maria, still calm, acted as if she hadn't noticed the change in their expressions.
Then she turned her head and blinked at them innocently.
"Oh, by the way—what were you saying earlier?" she asked, her tone still light. "Something about a girl with family problems joining the competition? Were you… talking about me?"
Her expression didn't change, but her voice cooled slightly.
"Are you saying poor people shouldn't be allowed to participate? But wait… aren't you two also poor? What's the difference between a struggling family and a poor one? Not much, right?"
One girl opened her mouth to answer, but Maria cut in sweetly.
"Then maybe you should withdraw your names too. Go home, help your family financially instead of wasting time here."
She paused, then added warmly, "I also noticed that all of Ivy's friends always seem to end up bankrupt. It's like a pattern. But don't worry—you might just join the ranks soon. I mean, what do you call a poor family that ends up bankrupt?" She let the question hang in the air. "Start thinking of a new word for your situation."
Maria offered them a pleasant smile, then turned on her heel and walked off, humming a soft tune like nothing had happened.
Behind her, the two girls had gone pale, and Ivy looked like she might faint. Whispers swirled, phones captured footage, and the video was quickly uploaded.
Moments later, someone gasped, recognizing her.
"Wait… isn't that the girl from the singing variety show? The masked one who went viral?"
The scene exploded online within minutes. Ivy stood frozen in place, her reputation cracking while Maria's soared.
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After Maria left the building, she hummed a tune softly, her lips curved into a pleasant smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Of course, Ivy wasn't the only one who could act. In fact, Maria was the kind of student who didn't just learn from the master—she studied the master, beat her at her own game, and made sure the audience clapped for her instead.
The taxi pulled up silently beside her. She slid in without a glance back, giving the driver the name of a hotel nearby.
Yes, she was staying at a hotel. Why go home?
That place was a war zone—emotionally unstable, crawling with hypocrisy, betrayal, and cheap apologies wrapped in guilt. Going back there would only let the past repeat itself. No, she wasn't stupid enough to walk back into a fire expecting warmth.
This time, she was choosing distance. This time, she was choosing peace… and control.
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