Chapter 2: Bananas, Books, and Big Tips
Silvermist High – Cafeteria, 12:14 PM
The cafeteria smelled like questionable curry and teenage sweat. I stared at my lunch tray—a sad ham sandwich, lukewarm apple juice, and a banana that looked one emotional breakdown away from mush.
"So this is public school fine dining," I muttered, poking the sandwich with a plastic spork.
Across from me, Jihan bit into a samgak-kimbap like he was starring in a convenience store commercial. "You know, you could just order sushi from your family's hotel."
"Defeats the whole undercover peasant experience, don't you think?"
He laughed. "You're seriously committing to this bit."
"It's not a bit," I said, unwrapping my sandwich with dramatic flair. "It's my origin story."
Then my phone buzzed.
I frowned. I kept notifications off. Only three apps allowed: Clock, Notes, and—my secret writing platform.
[WebNovel]: You received a 1,000 tip from Reader_9871!
Message: Update more, author! I'm living for the forbidden love!!
I choked on my juice.
Jihan blinked. "You okay?"
"Peach juice betrayal," I coughed, wiping my mouth. "Very traumatic."
But inside, my brain was screaming.
Someone tipped me a thousand won. For my story. MY story!
My heart soared like a caffeinated hummingbird.
Because yes—between secret identities and dodging my dad's wrath, I was also moonlighting as a webnovel author. Under the pen name BananaWriter89, I was posting chapters of "CEO's Daughter: Price Tag of Love". A total fictional story about a rich girl who falls for a poor boy and rebels against her powerful family.
Totally not autobiographical. At all.
Jihan watched me curiously. "You're grinning like a weirdo. What happened?"
"Nothing," I said, locking my phone like it was national security. "Just… someone appreciates good writing."
"Like... a teacher?"
"Nope." I sipped my juice smugly. "A fan."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're famous?"
"Secretly," I said, tossing my hair dramatically. "Like a masked vigilante. But with grammar."
Then I looked up and saw him staring—not with suspicion, but something else.
Warmth.
Interest.
A teeny tiny twinkle of affection?
Before I could say something flirty, he reached out and plucked the banana from my tray.
"Hey!"
He shrugged. "You owe me for the milk incident."
"You got thirty shirts!"
"And no potassium. Fair trade."
I squinted. "You're impossible."
He peeled it. "You're cute when you're annoyed."
My cheeks betrayed me. Heat bloomed.
I tried to salvage my pride with a cool shrug. "You should be careful. A lesser girl might fall for you."
"Good thing you're not lesser," he said with a lazy grin, taking a bite.
I hated how charming he was.
No. Scratch that.
I really liked how charming he was.
And that was the problem.
I stopped chewing mid-bite.
From the next table over, two girls were whispering loudly, clearly thinking they were the stars of some school gossip podcast.
"Have you read BananaWriter89's new novel? It's a masterpiece. I heard she's actually the CEO's daughter!"
"What? No way. Why would a rich girl write webnovels for money?"
Excuse me, WHAT?
I blinked.
Wait… Wait.
They're talking about my novel?!
And—who the actual dairy cow told them I'm the CEO's daughter?!
I was seconds away from choking on rage and banana juice when suddenly—
BOOM.
The cafeteria doors swung open like a villainess had entered a drama set.
In she came: platform heels, glitter gloss, Chanel logo earrings probably bought from a sketchy Instagram ad.
She twirled her curls like a drama queen on a mission. "Get outta here, chipmunks," she snapped at the gossiping girls. "Don't you know I'm the richest student here? Of course you don't. I just transferred from America. You peasants wouldn't understand Beverly Hills elite!"
She strutted toward our table like she owned the lunchroom.
"This is my private chair—wait…" Her voice trailed off when she spotted Jihan.
Cue the fake gasp. "Oh. My. GOSH. You are so cute. What's your name, darling?"
Before I could flip the tray in her face, Jihan responded coolly, "Lee Jihan. And… I'm not interested."
Jaw. Dropped.
The girl blinked like she'd just been slapped with a Gucci glove. "Oh, no worries! I guess you're not taken, so how about you go out with me?"
The entire cafeteria went dead silent.
It was like we were the main characters in a K-drama, and everyone else was watching the pilot episode of the century.
Eyes flicked to us. Whispers flew.
And then—Jihan struck.
"Sorry, but you might've misunderstood," he said smoothly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder like it belonged there. "I'm having lunch with my girlfriend right now."
My entire brain short-circuited.
He leaned in closer, lips near my ear.
"We're acting right now," he whispered.
Oh. OH. So that's the game?
Let's play.
I stood up, tossing my juice-stained napkin like a dramatic glove. "Yeah, babe," I snapped. "You want me to slap her thick foundation off or kick her into next week?"
Gasps. Literal gasps. One kid dropped his sandwich.
The girl took a step back, totally thrown.
"J-Jihan…" she stammered.
He gave her a pitying smile. "She's a blackbelt. I suggest retreat."
The cafeteria exploded. Whispers, laughter, phones recording—it was absolute chaos.
I plopped back into my seat, wiping imaginary sweat. "You owe me new sneakers."
He smirked. "Worth it."
The girl stormed off, her heels clacking like an angry horse retreating from battle. I took a long sip of banana milk, pretending my heart wasn't slamming in my chest like a nightclub DJ.
Jihan leaned back in his chair, totally calm. "You okay, Miss Blackbelt?"
I side-eyed him. "You owe me sneakers, emotional damage compensation, and one fake boyfriend explanation."
He grinned. "You're welcome for saving your secret identity."
Touché.
I reached for my phone, trying to cool down the flaming embarrassment under my designer blouse—and that's when I saw it.
[Notification: You received a 1,000-coin gift on WebNovel!]
From: @NovelFan_23
Message: UPDATE MORE, AUTHOR!
I choked on my drink. "WHAT."
"What?" Jihan asked, looking mildly amused.
I shoved the phone in his face. "Someone just sent me a thousand coins for my story. My secret story. That no one is supposed to know I wrote!"
Jihan blinked. "You're… BananaWriter89?"
I froze.
"…You read my story?!"
He gave me a sheepish look. "It was trending. And kind of addictive. I didn't know it was you though."
"Until now?"
"Well, that cafeteria performance was basically a live scene from your last chapter."
I groaned, hiding my face in my sleeves. "I'm gonna need to fake my death and start a new life in Antarctica."
He chuckled. "At least your readers love you."
"I don't want you to be one of them!"
"Too late. I already commented."
My mouth dropped open. "You commented?!"
He shrugged like it was no big deal. "Page 6. I said the main guy should kiss the girl already."
I smacked the table. "That was YOU?! You're BananaMilkFan?!"
He grinned. "Plot twist: your fake boyfriend is your top commenter."
I groaned dramatically, faceplanting onto my lunch tray. "This is worse than the time I sneezed in front of a K-pop idol."
"Nah," he said. "This is kinda perfect."
I peeked up at him. "You think so?"
He shrugged. "Hey, we're already fake dating. Might as well make it fun."
My heart did a weird little skip. Not the full flip yet—but definitely a skip.
I poked his arm with a fry. "Fine. But if you want royalties, I expect character inspiration rights."
He bit the fry. "Deal."
---
Meanwhile, across campus…
Inside a shadowy corner office disguised as a janitor's closet but actually full of spy-grade monitors—
CEO Kang: "My daughter just fake-dated a boy in public."
CEO Lee: "My son just called your daughter his girlfriend."
CEO Kang: "He LIED for her."
CEO Lee: "She THREATENED someone for him."
Both dads sip espresso in horrified silence.
CEO Kang: "…They're exactly like us in college, aren't they?"
CEO Lee: "…God help us."
Chapter 3? No unless you say so😝