The metal clasp of a Disney princess keychain scraped across my Chanel, leaving a clear mark on the leather.
Ryan immediately leaned in. “Let me see.”
He made a show of inspecting it, then gasped theatrically. “Oh my God, Chloe, is your Hermès okay? You don’t want some knockoff scratching it.”
Chloe covered her mouth and laughed, her eyes curving into crescents. “It’s fine, genuine quality doesn’t damage that easily.”
Then she glanced down at me from above. “But your bag, senior… oh dear, that scratch is so obvious. Fake bags really can’t take much wear, can they?”
I slowly raised my head, meeting Ryan’s gaze as he watched for my reaction.
Too bad for him—I didn’t have one.
It’s just a bag. If it’s ruined, I’ll replace it.
Just like this man—once he’s rotten, he’s out.
When I didn’t respond, Chloe snorted and sashayed forward.
“Some people have the nerve to bring a fake bag to class?” She dropped into the seat in front of me, her voice dripping with syrup as she deliberately slammed her Hermès onto the desk. “Right, Ryan?”
Ryan didn’t answer right away, but I noticed his eyes lingering on my bag for a few seconds.
The vintage Chanel’s edges were slightly worn, and the metal clasp bore faint traces of oxidation.
His lips curled into a mocking smile as he ruffled Chloe’s hair.
“Fake is fake. Nothing like our Chloe here, a true heiress.”
He deliberately raised his voice. “If you ask me, people who carry fake bags are just driven by vanity—pretending to be a socialite when their family’s just average, mooching meals, gifts, and affection.”
Chloe jumped in right on cue. “Exactly. I even heard she tricked an upperclassman into buying her gifts!”
She turned and winked at me. “Senior, you do know fraud is illegal, right?”
A few chuckles rippled around us.
I tightened my grip on my pen, nails digging into my palm.
Trading insults was pointless. Arguing with them would only trap me in an endless loop of defending myself.
Better to wait until later—see who gets slapped in the face.
Ryan, emboldened by my silence, leaned over my desk, the scent of Chloe’s perfume heavy on him.
“Vanessa, you know something?” he said in a low voice that carried across the room.
“One of Chloe’s family projects is worth over ten million. Her real bags could buy out your whole closet of fakes.”
He straightened and smirked. “A little nobody like you could never come close.”
Chloe lifted her wrist at the perfect moment, flashing a diamond-studded Cartier bracelet.
“Daddy just bought this for me yesterday, to celebrate the company winning the Southside Development Project.”
She looked at me with a pointed smile. “Want to touch it, senior? After all, it’s something you’ll never afford in your lifetime.”
Ryan burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don’t be so hard on her. Her mom works two days in construction just to make $130. Not like our Chloe—her allowance starts at $5,000 a month.”
It wasn’t until the professor walked in that the perfect little couple reluctantly separated.
Before sitting down, Chloe suddenly turned back, flicking a gold-embossed business card at my face.
“Oh, by the way, senior, my company’s hiring a receptionist—$25 an hour. A lot easier than your mom’s construction work!”
I took the card, running my fingertips over the gold letters Adams Construction.
“Thanks, but I’ve been busy with the campus singer competition.”
“Singer competition?” Ryan finally spoke again, his tone dripping with mockery.
“You really think you can sing? Have you seen the poster? Chloe’s family is sponsoring it this year.”
Of course I’d seen it.
If her family weren’t sponsoring, I wouldn’t even bother with such a low-level event.
