Kim stood frozen, the $100 (approximately ₩130,000) registration fee request replaying in his mind. The excitement he’d felt about forming a meaningful connection with Min now seemed foolish, eclipsed by the stark financial reality she presented. For someone like Kim, who barely managed his day-to-day expenses, such a sum was inconceivable. Yet, he didn’t want to outright refuse her, unsure of how to navigate the conversation without appearing rude or embarrassed.

As he lingered in indecision, Seo reappeared from the cafeteria, a steaming cup of coffee in each hand. “Hey, Kim,” Seo said with a grin, “which one do you want? The ₩5,000 ($3) coffee or the ₩7,000 ($5) one? Don’t say I never treat you!”

Kim glanced at Seo, grateful for the distraction but painfully aware of the irony. Seo’s teasing tone clashed with the heavy realization settling in his chest. Before Kim could respond, Min’s eyes narrowed as she turned toward the pair, clearly having overheard the exchange.

“₩5,000 coffee?” Min asked, her voice laced with incredulity. “Why would anyone drink something so… cheap?”

The offhand comment stung, and Kim felt his face flush with embarrassment. Summoning his courage, he replied, “That’s just what I can afford right now.”

Min’s smile faltered, her expression shifting to one of confusion and surprise. “Wait… you’re serious?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Kim nodded slowly, reluctant to elaborate but feeling an obligation to explain. “I’m a scholarship student,” he admitted. “My budget is… tight.”

The revelation hit Min like a jolt, and her demeanor instantly changed. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by an icy glare. “So, you’ve been deceiving me this whole time?” she snapped, her voice louder now, drawing the attention of a few passersby.

Kim blinked, caught off guard by her accusation. “What? No, I never lied—”

“You let me believe you were someone you’re clearly not!” Min interrupted, crossing her arms as if shielding herself from the perceived offense. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Kim said, his voice shaking. “You never asked about my financial situation, and I didn’t think it was relevant to us just… talking.”

Min scoffed, her demeanor growing more hostile. “It absolutely matters. I thought you were different—someone who could actually keep up with me. I’ve got enough scholarship students fawning over me already, trying to impress me with what little they have. I don’t need another one.”

Her words cut deeper than Kim anticipated. “I wasn’t trying to impress you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Min rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with derision. “Please. You’re all the same. Trying to get close to me, pretending it’s about friendship or whatever, but I know what you want. And honestly? It’s pathetic.”

Kim stared at her, struggling to reconcile the cheerful, inviting girl he’d met earlier with the venomous person standing before him now. “Why are you saying this?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Min didn’t flinch. “Because it’s the truth. Do you think I spend time with people like you for free? You’re useful, sure, but only as long as you know your place. If you can’t even afford the club fees, you’re not worth my time.”

Her words were like a slap to the face. Kim felt a lump forming in his throat as he fought to process the sudden and brutal shift in her behavior. The charm and warmth he had admired in her were nothing more than tools she used to manipulate others for her own benefit.

Seo, who had been watching the exchange in stunned silence, finally stepped forward. Placing a firm hand on Kim’s shoulder, he said, “Let’s go, Kim. You don’t need this.”

Kim hesitated, still grappling with the weight of Min’s words, but Seo’s presence grounded him. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Min standing at the booth.

As they moved through the bustling courtyard, Seo squeezed Kim’s shoulder reassuringly. “She’s not worth it,” he said softly, his usual playful tone replaced by genuine concern.

Kim nodded but said nothing, his mind replaying every moment of the interaction. The bitter truth of Min’s character was a harsh reminder of the world he had stepped into—a world where charm and kindness were often masks for selfishness and manipulation.

Though the experience left him shaken, Kim resolved to learn from it. He wouldn’t let himself be fooled again. If he was going to survive in this elite environment, he needed to be stronger, smarter, and more discerning. And above all, he needed to rely on people who truly valued him—not for what he could give, but for who he was.