Ch1: The Bug
In Reika’s system, hindi pwede ang “okay na yan.” Everything in her life is curated, color-coded, and high-definition. From her 98 GPA to the way her baby hairs are perfectly slicked back with just the right amount of hairspray, she is the definition of “that girl”.
Her Notion dashboard? A literal work of art. Her uniform? Ironed with the precision of a diamond cutter. Even her “barkada” is straight out of a Pinterest board, a circle of supportive, low-drama achievers who treat kindness like it’s a graded subject.
To the rest of Sanctuaria High, Reika is the blueprint. She’s the girl who has it all figured out. But deep inside, behind the filtered aesthetic and the high honors, there’s a glitch in her system.
The glitch—Seven is everything Reika’s spreadsheet-organized brain should hate. He’s the class clown who treats a 65% on a Math quiz like a victory lap. He’s the guy who spends more time in the Guidance Office than the library. He’s loud, he’s messy, and he’s constantly dribbling a basketball in the hallway despite the “No Ball Games” signs.
And for some reason, he’s the only person who can make Reika’s heart do a literal parkour move.
“Baby Reika, may dumi ka sa mukha,” Seven grinned, leaning way too close into her personal bubble during Homeroom.
Reika didn’t flinch. She adjusted her glasses, her eyes cold as an iced Americano. “It’s a mole, Seven. It’s been there since I was born. Maybe if you opened a textbook instead of your mouth, you’d know the difference between ‘dumi’ and biology.”
The class erupted in “Oooooohs.” and laughter. Seven just laughed, flashing that stupid, effortless dimple that makes everyone in school, from the freshmen to the canteen ladies, instantly forgive him for being a walking disaster.
“Grabe, sungit naman. Ang hirap naman magpapansin sayo” he chuckled, winking at his friends before going back to his seat at the back.
Reika rolled her eyes and turned back to her iPad, her pen hovering over a perfectly handwritten note. On the outside, she looked disgusted. She looked like she wanted to file a formal complaint against Seven’s existence. But behind all those eye rolls and savage comebacks, her palms are sweaty, her heart is about to pop out, she secretly opened a hidden, locked folder in her ipad. Inside? A blurry, zoomed-in photo of Seven laughing after a winning three-pointer last Friday.
Because in reality... Reika is obsessed with Seven. Her public opinion about Seven? An academic liability. But the truth? She loves how he is so carefree and not pressured by public opinion about his grades. She is always annoyed at him, but the truth? She finds his silliness cute. And people think she likes staying at the rooftop so noone disturbs her studying but the truth? It’s the perfect spot to watch his basketball games without anyone interrupting.
“Reika, okay ka lang? You look a bit... flushed,” whispered Bambi, her best friend, leaning in with a concerned look.
“Mainit lang, Bambs,” Reika replied, her voice steady and professional. “And Seven is just particularly annoying today. Someone needs to tell him that ‘clown’ isn’t a viable career path in 2026.”
She let go a deep sigh then she adjusted her perfectly aligned pens. Everything was under control. Her life was a masterpiece, and Seven was just a smudge on the canvas. But Reika likes the smudge more than the painting.
Does she keep up the “Hater Era” persona, or is she one dimple away from a total system collapse?
