Crescent Hill High wasn't just divided by grades — it was divided by power.
Section A: The elite. Children of influence. They carried the last names that built empires — future diplomats, Olympiad winners, heirs to legacies. Rules bent for them. Success was expected, not celebrated.
At the very top of that pyramid stood Celestene Vale.
Exceptionally brilliant. Emotionally unreadable. A black belt in silence and logic. Her presence in a room didn't invite attention — it commanded silence. She was a living threat wrapped in a school blazer, and even teachers adjusted their tones around her.
Section B: The hungry. Bright minds without birthrights. Students who believed they could outrun privilege with enough grit, grades, and grind. Forever chasing A, but never welcomed in.
Section : CThe invisible. Not disruptive, not impressive. Just... there. They existed in the background, moving quietly between classes, rarely remembered by name.
Section: D The wild ones. Artists, rebels, late-night poets, and rule-benders. Kids the system either couldn't understand — or never tried to. Teachers sighed when they saw them coming. Other students rolled their eyes.
And Luna Rivett was their storm.
She didn't belong in D by brains — but by record, absolutely. Detentions, fights, sarcasm soaked in acid. She walked with swagger and talked like the world owed her a fight. A sharp mind hidden beneath loud defiance. Section A students pretended not to know her name. Section B openly called her dangerous.
But on a Monday that started like any other, Luna Rivett broke a rule that wasn't written — and shook a school built on silence.
It started with a stupid letter.
A senior from Section B — desperate for Celestene's attention but too scared to face her — handed Luna the note, smirking like he'd made a clever move.
> "You hang around trouble anyway... You and Celestene are the same kind of scary."
A joke. A poor one.
Luna stared at him. Then, without warning — slapped him.
Not with drama. Not with screaming. Just a clean, echoing slap that made the hallway gasp.
And that was enough.
By lunch, the school's rumor machine had chewed it up and spit out a scandal.
> "Section D girl assaults Section B senior over A section drama."
It didn't matter that he started it. Or that he used her as a pawn. Or that she was right.
What mattered was that she was from D, and he wasn't.
When Luna walked out of the principal's office, silence hit louder than noise.
Beside her — not a teacher, not a parent — but Celestene Vale.
The elite queen and the rule-breaking rebel.
Side by side.
No one crossed from D to A. It was an unspoken law. And yet... here they were.
The crowd froze. But neither girl spoke.
They reached the staircase, and Luna paused.
> "Guess they finally got what they wanted," she said, voice low, bitter.
Celestene didn't respond. Her face unreadable. Her footsteps calm.
But the school noticed.
That flicker of something between them. Not friendship. Not alliance. Something… dangerous.
And the silent queens of Section A hated sharing their spotlight.
That day, they made an unspoken vow:
Luna had to go.
The halls echoed with rehearsed sympathy from teachers who didn't look her in the eye. Girls high-fived in the restroom. Section B boys cracked jokes about "rage hormones."
And outside, near the main notice board — where names were carved into the school's living hierarchy — students gathered to see what had changed.
At the top: Celestene Vale. Unshaken.
Below her: the five untouchables of Section A.
Kaia, Alina, Inara, Denii, Vesper.
Known not by title, but by reputation. The school's real monarchs.
They didn't run student council. They ran fear. Their fathers funded buildings. Their mothers hosted galas. Their voices carried rumors like gospel.
And their number one target?
Luna Rivett.
Because Luna was everything they couldn't control. Unpolished. Unapologetic. And worse — unafraid.
But what made their hate boil?
Celestene Vale didn't hate her.
By 12:05 PM, @CrescentTea — the school's most notorious gossip account — posted the headline:
🎥 POV: When the school's loudest villain finally gets transferred 🕊️📦✨
🎶 Karma (sped-up remix) plays over a video of Luna walking stiffly down the corridor.
Her lip was split. Her backpack hung from one shoulder. She didn't look at anyone.
But the crowd looked at her.
Phones were up. Whispers turned into grins. Some students moved aside like she was contagious. Others leaned in just to get a better angle for their stories.
Comments exploded:
> "Let's take a group selfie… to celebrate the demon leaving the building." 😇📸
"She really thought she was the main character. Girl, you were the plot twist no one liked."
"Section D just got lighter. School feels... cleaner."
"Celestene didn't even defend her. Guess that says everything."
"Netflix should cast her. All that rage? Pure reality drama."
"When karma walks you out in front of everyone 👋🧹"
Likes: 8.7K. Shares: 500+. Comments: 1.2K.
A school-wide roast disguised as celebration.
Butttt..
The Whispers Began
It didn't matter how loud the trolls laughed or how mean the comments got.
Because deep in the quiet halls of Section C, and buried under the loud defiance of D — a different kind of murmur began.
> "That boy deserved it."
"She didn't throw the first punch. Just the last."
"Celestene stepped in because Luna was right."
"She's leaving, but she's not wrong."
The hierarchy had cracked.
Not broken — but shifted.
Luna Rivett had crossed the line. Not by status. Not by rank.
But by defiance.
And while most students celebrated her departure with memes and mockery, a few watched with sharpened eyes — realizing:
She may be walking away from the school.
But she'd already left her mark on it.
And in the shadows of Crescent Hill High, where power had always been silent...