By the time Haein turned eleven, the lines between her family and herself had grown more defined. She could no longer recall the last time her mother hugged her, the last time her father asked her how she was doing. It was as though they were two separate worlds that barely touched, except when necessary, like ships passing each other in the night.
But if Haein was troubled by this, she didn’t show it. She had learned to perfect her mask, the emotionless expression she wore like armour. In school, she remained at the top of her class, her sharp intelligence gaining her the admiration of her teachers. But even that admiration came without warmth, as Haein kept everyone at a safe distance.
Her days were meticulously scheduled: wake up early, prepare for school, excel in every subject, return home, study, and repeat. Her routine was flawless, efficient, and, most importantly, it was hers. It gave her control over her life, a sense of stability that her fractured family could never provide.
One day, during a history class, her teacher announced a special opportunity for students who excelled academically—a chance to attend an international leadership camp. Haein’s interest was piqued. The camp promised to sharpen skills in public speaking, leadership, and critical thinking, all areas where Haein already excelled. But more than that, it was an opportunity to step away from the suffocating confines of her home and into something bigger, something that felt like it could matter.
When the teacher announced the criteria for attending, Haein’s hand shot up, earning a surprised glance from the class. She rarely spoke unless called on, and now, everyone’s eyes were on her. "I'd like to apply," she said, her voice steady and confident.
Her teacher smiled, clearly pleased. "Of course, Haein. You’d be an excellent candidate."
After school, Haein returned home and immediately set about preparing her application for the camp. She had to write an essay explaining why she was a worthy candidate, and while most students might struggle to write about themselves, Haein had no such trouble. She wrote with precision, laying out her accomplishments, her ambitions, and why she was more than capable of handling the challenges that the camp would present.
By the time she finished, the sun had already set, and the house was dark and quiet. Her mother was still out, likely attending another charity gala, while her father was somewhere in his office, too busy with work to notice her absence.
Haein placed the completed application on her desk, her fingers brushing lightly over the paper. She felt a small spark of excitement, a rare emotion for her these days. If she could attend the camp, it would be a chance to prove—to herself, at least—that she was more than just the "Ice Queen." It would be a chance to show the world what she was truly capable of.
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A few weeks later, the letter arrived. Haein had been accepted into the camp. It was a small victory, but one she cherished quietly, without telling anyone. Her parents didn’t ask where she was going that summer, and Haein didn’t offer the information. If they didn’t care enough to notice, why should she bother explaining?
The camp was held in a sprawling campus nestled in the mountains, far away from the bustling city that Haein had grown accustomed to. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, Haein felt a sense of freedom. The other students were bright, competitive, and driven—qualities that resonated with her. For once, she didn’t have to hide her intelligence or hold back in fear of being too much.
During the camp, Haein flourished. She excelled in every challenge they threw at her, from problem-solving tasks to debates and public speaking competitions. But
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Solstice in Grandeur
Random"Solstice in Grandeur" follows Hong Haein, the daughter of Asia's richest family, whose life of opulence is marred by isolation and emotional distance. Despite living in luxury, she is emotionally neglected by her constantly absent parents and strug...
