Chapter 5
Violet's POV
She bit her teeth, then smiled again, smiling like a snake flicking its tongue.
"Still that hot-tempered, Violet Kane." She spoke slowly and deliberately while pulling out her phone from her designer bag. "But, I wonder if Professor Rosen would still let you in his master class if he saw this?"
Her finger swiped the screen a few times, then she turned it to face me.
My breathing stopped instantly.
A video was playing on the screen. Under dim purple lights, I was being held down by two tattooed men at the edge of the stage.
My skirt was brutally lifted. I was desperately screaming, struggling, like a clown stripped of all dignity.
The video's background was full of vulgar whistles and jeering.
"Guess what happens if I upload this video to the campus network," Sienna leaned close to me, lowering her voice, her tone full of malicious pleasure. "How would everyone judge our pristine Violet Kane?"
My desperate screaming in the video was like a rusty needle, viciously stabbing my nerves.
The taut string in my head completely snapped.
Without any hesitation, I lunged forward and snatched the phone from Sienna's hand.
"What are you doing!" Sienna screamed.
I raised my arm high and smashed the rhinestone-studded latest model phone hard against the cement ground. With a crisp "crack," the screen instantly shattered into pieces, glass fragments scattering everywhere.
Sienna froze for a second, then immediately let out an exaggerated cry and fell backward, sitting on the ground.
"Ah! My ankle! Violet Kane, are you crazy?"
Ethan on the motorcycle immediately kicked down the stand and rushed over, pulling Sienna into his arms. He turned his head, dark brown eyes full of fury, looking at me like an unreasonable lunatic. "Violet Kane! You're absolutely unreasonable! Apologize to Sienna right now!"
I stood there. Cold wind blew through my oversized athletic wear, but suddenly I didn't feel cold at all.
Looking at this man I'd loved for three years, I only felt utterly absurd.
"Apologize?" I pulled at my lips, my voice so cold it surprised even me. "Ethan, you should be glad I smashed the phone, not her face."
"You—" Ethan was speechless with anger, pointing at me. "Do you have to make such a scene? We're even from last night!"
"Even? Fine." I straightened my spine, suppressing the tearing pain in my knee. "The money the hospital advanced, I'll pay back every cent. From now on, we're completely done."
Ethan froze, brows knitting into a tight knot. "What hospital? Are you brain damaged? I was drinking at The Velvet Lounge all last night. Who the fuck went to a hospital?"
My heartbeat skipped a beat.
It wasn't him.
The "boyfriend" the nurse mentioned who "watched all night without closing his eyes" wasn't Ethan at all.
Then it could only be that man in the ash-gray suit whose presence dominated the entire hallway—Julian Hall.
An indescribable strange emotion spread through my chest.
I took a deep breath and moved my gaze from Ethan's stunned face.
"That's even better." I looked at him coldly. "Because you don't even have the qualification to step into my hospital room. Take your Sienna and get out of my sight."
With that, I turned around, dragging my stiff leg toward the academic building.
"Violet Kane!" Ethan roared behind me, his voice carrying the shame and anger of being exposed. "You wait! I'll definitely make you pay!"
I didn't look back.
I entered Professor Rosen's lecture hall practically counting the seconds.
When I found an empty seat in the back row, my back was already soaked with cold sweat. The gauze on my knee seemed to have seeped blood again, throbbing dully.
But I forced myself to concentrate all my attention on the podium. Professor Rosen's class was recognized as rigorous throughout the country. Every bowing technique, every emotional treatment mattered for next week's city symphony orchestra selection.
That was my only chance at a full scholarship and stable salary.
After the two-hour class, I organized my notes while rubbing my aching temples.
"Hey, Vivi!" Someone slapped my shoulder hard.
I turned my head. It was my best friend Chloe.
She had flamboyant red hair, holding several thick music theory books. She plopped down in the empty seat next to me.
"Why are you dressed today like a retiree going for a morning jog?" Chloe looked me up and down in this ill-fitting gray athletic wear, then frowned, noticing something wrong with my walk. "Good God, what happened to your leg?"
"I fell last night." I glossed over those humiliating details lightly, closing my notebook. "Also, Ethan and I broke up."
Chloe's eyes widened. She froze for a full three seconds, then slammed the table.
"Thank God! You finally dumped that scumbag whose brain only has motorcycles and muscles!" She was so excited she almost jumped up. "No, this absolutely deserves celebrating! Tonight we're going to that new bar in Brooklyn. My treat. We'll drink till dawn, celebrating your rebirth!"
"I really want to go, Chloe, but I really can't." I stuffed my notes into my canvas bag and sighed. "My phone was lost last night, along with all my schedules. I have to go work at Blue Bean Café right away. I need money to buy a used phone. Plus, the orchestra selection is next week. I need to go home early and practice."
Chloe looked at my exhausted face and sighed with sympathy. "Okay, workaholic. Call me anytime you need. You know my number."
At two p.m., I put on Blue Bean Café's dark green apron.
The afternoon was the busiest time at the shop. Rich coffee bean aroma mixed with the hissing of the steam machine.
I stood at the register, trying to put my weight on my uninjured left leg, skillfully taking orders for customers.
"One iced Americano, with a double shot."
A sickeningly sweet voice rang out at the order counter.
My fingers paused on the screen. I looked up.
Sienna wore exaggerated sunglasses, standing there with her arms crossed.
Ethan stood beside her, hands in his leather jacket pockets, a nasty smile at his lips.
Behind them were those two tattooed bikers from last night.
They were like a group of barbarians bursting into a quiet library, instantly breaking the café's atmosphere. Several customers reading books frowned.
"Six dollars total." I looked at the screen expressionlessly.
Sienna pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from her bag and carelessly threw it on the counter.
"Keep the change. The rest can go toward buying you a new phone. After all, you look pathetically poor right now."