"Requesting memory trial," came the judge's firm voice. Johnson finally looked up. The moment their eyes met, Elsa saw the same inner struggle that had flickered behind his gaze that night at the beach three years ago. The screen came alive. In the damp basement, Elsa stared blankly at the ceiling. She wondered how long her life would stay like this. After finally filling her stomach, she turned her head to meet Johnson's eyes. He couldn't hide the emotion in them. "Ugh, he's totally just a scumbag." "I need to rinse my eyes-how is Johnson this full of himself?" "Let's be honest. He treated Elsa well at first." "If it were me, trapped in hell, and someone showed up with food and warmth... it'd be hard not to feel something." "Still, what a sleaze. No integrity at all." Suddenly, Johnson stood up from the audience with a pale face and stormed toward the witness stand. "Enough!" He grabbed the mic, knuckles white. "Elsa was never anything to me but dead weight! The one I really wanted... was Quinn!" Quinn gasped, covering her mouth, but the gleam in her eyes said otherwise. Elsa's memory flashed back to that summer- Quinn had worn that exact same look. Back then, Elsa hadn't understood it. Now she did-Quinn had been showing off. "Is the dance club president list confirmed yet?" Inside the office, the music teacher's voice floated out. Elsa stood outside the door, clutching her application form tightly. She'd tried so many times to knock-but hadn't dared. Her fingertip traced over the words "President Application." Hurried footsteps sounded from inside. The door swung open, and Elsa found herself face to face with Quinn. Startled, she instinctively hid the form behind her back. Ms, Sarah, the dance teacher, never liked Elsa to begin with. Seeing her there made her frown. Quinn noticed too, 943 0 D She smiled sweetly and walked up, feigning concern. "Elsa, what are you doing here? You looked like a thief just now." Ms. Sarah glanced over her glasses and snorted. "Who knows? Quinn, let's head to the studio. We still have to prep for the competition." "Okay!" As they passed Elsa, Quinn suddenly snatched the form from her hands. Reading it, she burst into laughter. Ms. Sarah turned back. "Quinn? What is it?" "Ms. Sarah, my sister wants to run for president of the dance club. This is her form." She handed it over. The paper, already crumpled, now looked even worse. Ms. Sarah wrinkled her nose in distaste. seein Seeing Elsa defeated gave Quinn immense satisfaction. She fought to keep her grin in check and spoke for Elsa, "It's her dream, Ms. Sarah. Could you consider it?" "Quinn, you know our dance club has a special status at this school." "Being club president isn't a role just anyone can take." Her gaze landed on Elsa like a slap. "Especially not someone who can't even count to the beat-let alone lead choreography." Elsa stared at the floor, biting her lip hard. She reached out to retrieve the form- But Ms. Sarah's indifferent voice stopped her. "Next month we're holding open elections. If you can get two-thirds of the club's vote, you can be president." For a moment, it felt like a beam of light pierced the darkness in front of her. Quinn trailed after Ms. Sarah. When they reached the corridor's corner, she whispered, "Ms. Sarah... are you really considering letting Elsa be president?" "Quinn, you're my top student. Of course I want the role to go to you. But school policy demands a vote. Still... do you really think she can beat you?" Late at night, the dance studio glowed faintly. Elsa lifted her trembling leg in front of the mirror, her wireless earphones playing the piano track. And once again-she tumbled down the practice steps. Send Gifts Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!