Marinette and Gurvinder sat together in silence. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, heavy with emotions neither of them knew how to navigate. He was still holding onto her, his arms loosely wrapped around her, while she kept her hands resting against his back, feeling the quiet tremble in his body.

Then, suddenly, Marinette's phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She sighed and pulled away just enough to check the screen. Alya.

Her grip on the phone tightened. A part of her was still upset with Alya—after all, it was because of her that the entire school had been gossiping about the sleepover, twisting the story into something it wasn't. Gurvinder had already been dealing with enough, and the unnecessary attention had only made things worse.

Still, she hesitated for only a moment before opening the message.

Alya: Girl, I heard something crazy. Are you seriously skipping school today??

Marinette rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. She quickly typed back.

Marinette: No, Alya. I'm just dealing with something important.

A reply came almost instantly.

Alya: It's about Gurvi, isn't it? What's going on, Mari? First the sleepover, then the fight with Chloe, and now you're missing school? People are talking again.

Marinette gritted her teeth. Of course, they were talking. Paris was a big city, but somehow, gossip spread faster than Akuma attacks. She glanced at Gurvinder, who was still sitting beside her, deep in thought, staring at the floor as if lost in his own battles.

She took a breath before replying.

Marinette: Alya, I'll tell you everything when I can. But please, stop spreading things without knowing the full story. This isn't just some drama, okay?

A pause. Then, finally, Alya responded.

Alya: Okay… I'm sorry. But I'm here if you need me.

Marinette locked her phone and let out a slow breath. She turned back to Gurvinder, who was watching her with quiet curiosity.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She forced a small smile. "Yeah… just more people talking about us."

He sighed, rubbing his face. "Let them talk."

Marinette nodded. But deep down, she knew that this wasn't over yet. If people were talking now, things would only escalate once they took the next step—once they finally confronted his uncle.

Marinette took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around her phone. She needed to have a serious talk with Alya. Without another word to Gurvinder, she got up and made her way to her room, closing the door behind her.

She sat on her bed, staring at the screen for a moment before finally calling Alya. The phone rang twice before Alya picked up.

"Hey, girl! What's going on?" Alya's voice was casual, but Marinette could tell she was fishing for information.

Marinette didn't waste time. "Alya, why did you tell the whole school about the sleepover?"

Alya hesitated. "I mean… I didn't tell everyone. I just mentioned it to a few people, and you know how fast rumors spread. I swear, I didn't mean for it to blow up like that."

Marinette closed her eyes, trying to keep her frustration in check. "Alya, this isn't just gossip. Gurvinder already has enough to deal with, and now people are looking at him like—like he's some kind of scandal. Do you even realize how this could affect him?"

There was a pause. "I get it, Mari. I do. But you've been acting different. I was worried. And honestly… I don't understand why you're doing so much for him."

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you barely knew this guy a few months ago. Now, you're skipping school for him, fighting people for him, and acting like he's the most important person in your life. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, but, Marinette, are you sure you're not just… pitying him?"

Marinette's grip on the phone tightened. "Alya, it's not pity."

"Then what is it?" Alya challenged. "Because from the outside, it looks like you're carrying all of his burdens like they're yours. And that's not fair to you."

Marinette opened her mouth to argue but stopped. Alya's words stung because they forced her to confront something she hadn't fully admitted to herself yet.

This wasn't just about helping someone in need.

This was about him. About Gurvinder.

And she wasn't sure she was ready to say it out loud yet.

Marinette sat there, gripping her phone tightly, her heart torn between the need to confide in Alya and the fear of history repeating itself. She had already admitted to her parents that she loved Gurvinder—those words had slipped out in a moment of raw emotion. But telling Alya? That was different.

Alya had always been her best friend, the one she turned to for everything. But now, that trust felt… fragile. The way Alya had spread the sleepover rumor, even if unintentionally, had shaken Marinette's faith in her. What if she told Alya how much Gurvinder had suffered, how much pain he hid behind his smile, and Alya let it slip again? What if it spread like wildfire, reaching the wrong people—reaching him—and made things worse?

Marinette wanted to believe Alya wouldn't do that. She wanted to believe she could trust her best friend. But could she afford to take that risk when it came to him?

Her thumb hovered over the call button, but she hesitated. She thought about Gurvinder—his quiet endurance, the way he carried his pain alone, the way he had trusted her and only her with his truth. Was she about to betray that trust just because she needed someone to talk to?

Marinette sighed, lowering her phone. No. Not yet.

She needed to be sure.

And right now, there was only one person she could truly, completely trust.

Herself.

Marinette sighed as her phone rang again. She hesitated before finally picking up.

"Why did you hang up on me?" Alya's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

Marinette ran a hand through her hair. "I just… I wasn't in the mood to talk."

"That's a lazy excuse, girl," Alya snapped. "And don't even try to brush me off again."

Marinette remained silent, unsure of what to say.

Alya took that as her cue to continue. "Listen, I get it. Gurvinder's been through hell, and he's a hard-working guy. But Marinette, what about you? What about your dreams? Your designs? Your studies? Have you even looked at your sketchbook lately? Or is your entire life just about watching over him now?"

Marinette's grip on the phone tightened. "Alya, it's not that simple—"

"No, Mari, it is that simple," Alya cut her off. "You're acting like—like he's dying or something! Yes, he's struggling, yes, he's been through a lot, but you can't just throw your own life away because of that! He's doing his work, but you? You're not. And it's not okay."

Marinette's heart pounded. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the truth in Alya's words hit her harder than she expected.

Was she really losing herself in this?

Was she forgetting everything else in her life?

She swallowed hard. "…I just don't want to abandon him."

Alya sighed. "And I'm not saying you should. But Marinette, you can't forget yourself either."

Marinette bit her lip, unable to answer. Because deep down… she wasn't sure she even knew where the line was anymore.

Marinette stood frozen, Alya's words still ringing in her ears.

But then, like a floodgate bursting open, her mind filled with memories.

She remembered that very first day—when Chloe tried to humiliate her, and he was the only one who stood up for her, when no one else did.

She remembered how he worked tirelessly in the bakery, never complaining, never slacking, always helping her parents as if it was his own home.

She remembered how, no matter how unfairly people treated him—ignoring him in class, belittling him, gossiping behind his back—he never retaliated, never lashed out. He just kept going, kept giving, like kindness was all he knew.

She remembered the pure joy in his eyes when he got his first paycheck, the way he immediately thought of her and her parents before himself.

She remembered the night he spent everything he had trying to save a dying puppy—how devastated he was when he couldn't, how he buried his face in his hands, grieving for a little life no one else had even noticed.

She remembered him, standing in front of her mother, shielding her without hesitation, ready to put his own life on the line for someone he barely knew.

She saw it all.

Everything.

And suddenly, a fire burned inside her—rage, heartbreak, helplessness.

Why did no one else see it?

Why did people only see what they wanted to see?

Why did they look at him like he was nothing, like he didn't matter?

Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over.

Her breath hitched as sobs racked her body. She covered her mouth, trying to silence the sound, but the pain inside her felt too much.

He was so much more than what they thought.

And it killed her that the world refused to see it.

Marinette's grip on her phone tightened as Alya's words cut through her like a blade.

"You should get over him."

"I miss the old you—the Marinette who was obsessed with fashion, with Adrien. The bubbly, clumsy Marinette. Not... this."

Something inside Marinette snapped.

Alya wanted the old Marinette? The one who giggled over fabric swatches and got tongue-tied around Adrien? The one who lived in a world where her biggest problem was missing a deadline for a design?

She clenched her jaw, her breath coming out ragged as the dam holding back everything inside her shattered.

"GET OVER HIM?!" Marinette screamed, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. "YOU THINK I CAN JUST 'GET OVER' SOMEONE WHO'S BEEN THROUGH HELL AND STILL STANDS UP WITH A SMILE?!"

Alya fell silent, caught off guard by the sheer emotion in Marinette's voice.

"Do you even know what he goes through every single day?!" Marinette choked out, her whole body trembling.

"He wakes up at 3 AM. Trains until his body breaks. Then he works in the bakery like he owes us something when he doesn't. He goes to school and listens to people whisper about him like he's some outsider who doesn't belong!

He gets beaten by his uncle every single day, and he STILL doesn't fight back! Because he thinks if he endures it just a little longer, maybe—MAYBE—he'll get to stay here! That maybe, for the first time in years, he'll have a home!

He spends his money on saving stray animals! He protects people without even thinking! And the one time he lost control, it wasn't for himself! It was because someone insulted my parents—insulted me!

And you want me to just forget about him? Move on like he doesn't matter?! Like he's just another crush?!"*

Her voice cracked at the last words.

Alya was silent on the other end.

Marinette could barely breathe, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest.

"I love him, Alya," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not because I pity him. Not because I'm 'obsessed' with him. But because he's the strongest, kindest person I have ever met. And if you don't understand that… then maybe you never really knew me at all."

With that, she ended the call, her hands shaking as the room spun around her.

She let out a breathless sob, her phone slipping from her grip.

She had finally said it.

And there was no taking it back.

Marinette's knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor, her whole body trembling as sobs wracked through her. She hugged herself tightly, as if trying to hold herself together, but the weight of everything crashed down on her all at once.

Her chest ached, her throat burned, and the more she thought about everything—about Gurvinder, about Alya's words, about how unfair it all was—the harder she cried.

She buried her face into the cold floor, her tears pooling beneath her as muffled cries escaped her lips. She wanted to scream, to break something, to do anything to make the pain stop. But all she could do was sob, her body shaking violently with each breath she took.

No one understood.

No one saw him the way she did.

No one felt what she felt.

And now, after everything, she was alone.

Alya stood frozen in the middle of the classroom, her phone still clutched in her hand as the words Marinette had screamed at her echoed in her head. The weight of it, the sheer pain in Marinette's voice—it rattled her to her core.

Around her, the rest of their classmates watched with curiosity, some whispering, others smirking as they nudged each other. They had all thought she was just going to confirm some juicy gossip—that Marinette and Gurvinder were finally going on a date or something ridiculous like that. But what she had just heard was nothing like what she expected.

Marinette wasn't some love-struck girl obsessed with a boy. She was breaking for him.

Alya's breath was shaky as she lowered her phone. What have I done?

She had laughed. She had told Marinette she was losing herself over him. She had dismissed her worries, told her to move on. And all this time… Marinette had been carrying the weight of something so much bigger.

Alya turned to Nino, who had been waiting for an update. His grin faded the second he saw her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.

Alya swallowed hard. "Everything."

The murmurs grew louder as more classmates noticed Alya's shaken expression. One by one, they started gathering around her desk, curiosity burning in their eyes.

"What happened, Alya?" Rose asked, tilting her head in concern.

"Did Marinette finally admit she's dating that guy?" Kim smirked, leaning on a desk.

"I knew it," Alix scoffed. "She was acting way too weird about him."

Alya felt her chest tighten. The way they spoke about it so lightly—like it was some joke, some stupid rumor to gossip about—made her stomach churn. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she took a shaky breath.

"It's not what you think," she finally said, her voice trembling.

Mylène, noticing Alya's distress, stepped closer. "Then what is it?"

Alya hesitated. Could she really tell them? Could she just say what Marinette had screamed at her through tears? The things she had been blind to, the things she ignored while focusing on the wrong damn thing?

But then she looked at them—at their expectant, amused faces, at the way they all assumed this was about some stupid romance—and she felt furious.

"You guys have no idea what he's been going through," Alya snapped, her voice sharp as a knife. "None of us do."

The class fell silent. For the first time, Alya wasn't just the one sharing news—she was the one shattered by it.

Adrien stepped closer, his green eyes filled with concern. "What happened, Alya?" His voice was calm but firm, sensing that this wasn't just another school rumor.

Alya swallowed hard. Her mind was still spinning from everything Marinette had yelled at her—everything she had ignored about Gurvinder all this time. The weight of it all pressed on her chest, and for once, she didn't know how to put it into words.

"He's suffering," she finally muttered, looking down at her hands.

"What do you mean?" Nino frowned, stepping up beside Adrien.

Alya took a deep breath, then looked up, her eyes glossy with regret. "Gurvinder… he's not just some kid who got lucky with a job at the bakery. He's an illegal immigrant, Adrien. He was trafficked here by his uncle, forced to fight in underground MMA matches just so he could survive. His uncle beats him, starves him, and uses him for money. And we—" she let out a bitter laugh, "we just sat here gossiping about whether or not he was sleeping in Marinette's room."

The classroom went silent. Dead silent.

Adrien's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "What?"

Alya nodded, her anger bubbling again, but this time it was directed at herself. "Marinette knew, and she's been trying to help him. And all I did was treat it like some dumb romance story."

Nino took a shaky step back, his face paling. "Holy shit…"

Rose gasped, covering her mouth. Mylène looked like she was about to cry. Even Kim, who was usually unfazed by everything, was stunned into silence.

Adrien clenched his fists. "All this time… and he never said anything?" His mind was reeling. The way Gurvinder worked himself to exhaustion, the bruises, the way he never complained no matter what people said to him… It all made sense now.

Alya exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "I don't even know if he can say anything. He's scared, Adrien. He's scared of being deported, scared of being hated, scared of losing the little bit of life he's built here."

Adrien's jaw tightened. He had misjudged Gurvinder. He had seriously misjudged him. And now? Now, he wanted to do something.

The classroom was eerily silent as the teacher walked in, her heels clicking against the floor. She glanced around, immediately sensing the heavy tension in the air. The usual morning chatter was absent. Instead, her students sat stiffly, some with their heads down, others staring blankly ahead.

Her eyes scanned the room, then narrowed. "Where's Gurvinder?" she asked, her tone casual, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

The class exchanged glances. There were other absentees—Nathaniel, Chloe, even Ivan—but she had only asked about him.

No one answered.

She frowned. "Well?"

Alya clenched her jaw. Marinette wasn't here, and neither was Gurvinder, but suddenly, the class saw what Marinette had been seeing all along. How every absence Gurvinder had was noticed in a way the others weren't. How every move he made in school was watched, judged, criticized. How, no matter how well he performed, no matter how quiet he stayed, people like their teacher always singled him out.

Adrien exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists. He thought about the way Gurvinder never reacted to any of this. How he had just endured it. And for the first time, Adrien felt ashamed that he had never noticed.

"He's sick," Alya finally muttered, voice tight.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off but choosing not to push it further. "Alright, take out your books. We're starting the lesson."

As she turned to the board, the class exchanged looks once more. They weren't just classmates anymore. They were witnesses. They had seen now.

And they couldn't ignore it any longer.

As the teacher began writing on the board, the murmurs started. Soft at first, but growing.

"Did you hear what Alya said?" one of the girls whispered behind her hand.

"Yeah… I never thought it was that bad."

"No wonder Marinette's been acting so weird lately."

"But… he never looked like he was struggling, right? I mean, he always just did his work, fought back when needed…"

"Maybe that's the problem," another girl muttered. "We all just assumed he was fine because he never showed it."

Lila, who had been silently listening, scoffed. "So what? He's just another immigrant trying to get sympathy points. Marinette's just being dramatic—"

"Shut up, Lila," one of the girls snapped, surprising even herself.

Lila frowned, about to argue, but then she noticed something. The whole class was listening now. They weren't rolling their eyes or shrugging it off. They weren't laughing at the idea of Marinette crying over him.

For the first time, they cared.

And that changed everything.

As the whispers continued, a few of the girls who had once been quiet started to speak up. One girl, who had always stayed in the background, now found herself confessing to her friend with a hesitant voice, "I… I always thought he was kind of cute, you know? His looks, his sense of humor, his body—he's got that confidence. But I never realized what was going on with him until now."

Another girl, sitting across from her, nodded slowly. "Yeah, same. I thought he was just this tough guy who could handle anything, but after hearing all of this, I feel like an idiot." She let out a sigh. "He was always the one everyone picked on behind his back, and I just went along with it, never thinking there was a real reason."

The girl who had earlier snapped at Lila leaned forward, her voice softer now. "Honestly, I thought he was just some guy trying to fit in. But now, I see it differently. He's been carrying all of this weight on his own, and we just never noticed."

Lila, now silent, observed the growing realization in the room, her earlier arrogance faltering in the face of everyone's shift in perspective.

Another girl added quietly, "It's strange, you know? We were all so quick to judge him. But when I think back, he was always so kind. Even when we were all making fun of him, he never fought back, never said anything. It makes me feel horrible, honestly."

They all fell silent for a moment, processing what they had just learned. For some, the crushing weight of their own ignorance hung over them. For others, it was a new understanding, one they had never expected to come from a quiet boy who worked tirelessly in the background, hiding the struggle no one had ever thought to see.

And in that silence, something shifted. Gurvinder wasn't just the guy they'd all once dismissed or admired from afar. He was a person, with real pain, real fears, and real strength—strength they hadn't understood until now.

The guys in the class, who usually never paid much attention to Gurvinder beyond the occasional teasing or dismissive remarks, now found themselves unsettled. They shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging glances, each one hesitant to be the first to speak.

Finally, Kim broke the silence. "Man… I always thought he was just trying to act tough. Like, you know, some brooding mysterious guy who doesn't talk much. But… hearing all this? I feel like an idiot."

Max adjusted his glasses, his voice unusually serious. "We always assumed he just kept to himself because he wanted to. We never considered that maybe he was just… surviving."

Ivan, usually the quietest among them, clenched his fists. "I don't know how someone goes through all of that and still shows up every day like nothing's wrong. That's not just tough—that's something else entirely."

Adrien, who had been listening silently, finally spoke. "He's been fighting battles we didn't even see. And yet, he still defended Marinette. He never got mad when people talked behind his back. Even when Chloe pushed him, he never fought back… until she insulted Marinette and her parents."

Nino, who had been unusually quiet, ran a hand down his face. "And here we are, living our normal lives, worrying about grades and crushes, while he's out there dealing with… all of that. It makes me feel like I took so much for granted."

"It's messed up," another guy muttered. "We treated him like he was just some random new kid. But Marinette… she saw him. She actually saw him. And we never did."

There was a long pause before Kim exhaled sharply. "Damn. We suck, huh?"

No one argued. They just sat there, the weight of everything they had overlooked pressing down on them, as the realization settled in—Gurvinder was stronger than any of them had ever given him credit for. And they had failed to notice until now.