The sharp sound of an alarm shattered the silence of the tiny bedroom.

Charlotte Carter's eyes fluttered open before she could even realize she had fallen asleep. Her body ached from the previous day's work, and every muscle begged her to stay beneath the thin blanket that barely kept away the cold.

She turned toward the old alarm clock sitting on the cracked wooden table.

4:30 a.m.

Another day.

Another chance to disappoint everyone.

Charlotte slowly pushed herself off the mattress lying on the floor. The room was barely large enough to fit the bed, an old wardrobe with one broken door, and a tiny window that overlooked the quiet street.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall.

Long chestnut brown hair framed her delicate face. Her soft hazel eyes had dark circles beneath them, making the nineteen-year-old look older than she really was.

She forced herself to smile.

The girl in the mirror didn't smile back.

"Maybe today will be better," she whispered.

Deep down, she already knew it wouldn't.

She quietly opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

The house was silent.

Her parents and two older sisters were still asleep.

As always.

Charlotte tied her hair into a loose ponytail before walking into the kitchen. Without wasting a second, she filled a bucket with water and began mopping the floor.

By five o'clock, she had swept the sitting room.

By five-thirty, she had washed last night's dishes.

At six, she was already preparing breakfast.

The smell of freshly made pancakes drifted through the house, followed by sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs.

The same breakfast everyone loved.

The same breakfast Charlotte almost never got to eat.

Footsteps echoed from upstairs.

Her oldest sister, Vanessa, walked into the dining room wearing silk pajamas while scrolling through her phone.

She glanced at the table.

"Is that all?" she asked with a frown.

Charlotte blinked.

"I... I made pancakes, eggs and bacon."

Vanessa rolled her eyes dramatically.

"You couldn't even make waffles?"

"I'm sorry."

"You always have an excuse."

Without another word, Vanessa sat down and began eating.

A few minutes later, Charlotte's second sister, Brielle, entered the room.

"Oh, pancakes again?" she scoffed. "Seriously, Charlotte? Do you ever think?"

Charlotte lowered her head.

"I woke up early to..."

"No one asked for your explanation."

Brielle reached for the syrup while muttering loud enough for Charlotte to hear.

"I swear she's only good for cleaning."

The words stung.

Not because they were new.

Because she had heard them almost every day for years.

Then came their parents.

Her father walked straight to the table without sparing Charlotte a glance.

Her mother looked around the kitchen.

"The floor by the back door isn't dry."

Charlotte immediately looked over.

"I'll clean it again."

"You should have done it properly the first time."

"Yes, Mom."

Her mother sighed.

"I don't know what we're going to do with you."

Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat.

She wanted to say she had cleaned the floor twice already.

She wanted to say she had been awake for almost two hours while everyone else slept.

She wanted to ask why nothing she ever did was enough.

Instead...

"I'm sorry."

Her father finally spoke.

"After breakfast, don't waste time. We need to open the café early."

Charlotte nodded.

"Yes, Dad."

No one asked if she had eaten.

No one noticed she hadn't even sat down.

She stood quietly beside the table while her family laughed together.

It felt less like she belonged there...

...and more like she was the maid hired to serve them.

When breakfast ended, Vanessa stretched lazily.

"I'm going shopping later after school."

Brielle smiled.

"I'll come with you."

Their mother nodded happily.

"Take my card."

Charlotte froze for the briefest second.

Last week she had asked for money to replace her torn school bag.

Her mother had told her it was unnecessary.

"Use it until it falls apart."

Yet buying expensive clothes for her sisters wasn't unnecessary.

Her chest tightened.

She quickly turned away before anyone noticed the tears threatening to fall.

By seven o'clock, the Carter Family Café was open.

The warm aroma of butter, fresh bread and coffee welcomed the first customers of the day.

The little café wasn't luxurious.

But people loved it.

Especially the fluffy pancakes Charlotte made every morning.

"Good morning!"

A regular customer smiled warmly.

"Charlotte, your pancakes are still the best in town."

For the first time that morning...

She smiled.

"Thank you."

It was a small smile.

But it was real.

Her mother appeared almost instantly.

"Charlotte!"

She hurried over.

"Yes?"

"Stop chatting and clear Table Four."

"I'm going."

The customer frowned slightly after watching the exchange.

Charlotte simply picked up the dirty plates and carried them toward the kitchen.

Hour after hour...

She washed dishes.

Served coffee.

Cleaned tables.

Took orders.

Prepared desserts.

Carried heavy boxes from storage.

Meanwhile, Vanessa and Brielle laughed together behind the counter whenever business slowed, taking selfies and chatting with customers.

Whenever someone praised the café...

Her parents proudly introduced her sisters.

Whenever something went wrong...

Charlotte's name was the first one called.

She had long stopped wondering why.

She simply accepted that this was her place.

Invisible.

Useful.

Replaceable.

Later that same morning , Charlotte finally leaned against the kitchen counter for a few seconds to catch her breath.

She hadn't eaten since yesterday evening.

Just as she reached for one broken pancake that couldn't be served...

"Charlotte!"

Her mother's voice echoed through the kitchen.

Charlotte immediately dropped her hand.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Customers are waiting. Stop being lazy."

"I was just..."

"What?"

Charlotte shook her head.

"Nothing."

She quietly walked back outside with an empty stomach.

Outside the café window, the school clock across the street reminded her that classes would begin soon.

She still had to rush to Ravenhill Academy.

And if there was one place that felt even less like home...

It was school.

Charlotte hurried out of the café, clutching the worn straps of her faded backpack.

She glanced at the bakery across the street. The sweet smell of fresh bread drifted through the air, making her empty stomach ache.

She smiled bitterly.

Maybe one day...

Maybe one day she'd earn enough money to buy breakfast without feeling guilty.

Pushing the thought aside, she hurried toward Ravenhill Academy.

The towering gates came into view, surrounded by expensive cars dropping off students dressed in perfectly pressed uniforms. Laughter echoed across the courtyard as groups of friends greeted one another.

Charlotte quietly slipped through the crowd.

She didn't belong with them.

Most students barely noticed she existed.

Those who did usually had something cruel to say.

She kept her head down as she walked toward the main building.

Then...

A loud roar shattered the morning air.

Vroooom!

Vroooom!

VROOOOOM!

The ground seemed to tremble beneath her feet.

Students immediately turned toward the school entrance.

"They're here!"

"No way... Brian's back!"

"I heard he won another underground race!"

"Oh my God... look at those bikes!"

Charlotte froze.

She didn't have to look.

She already knew who it was.

A line of sleek black motorcycles rolled through the school gates like kings entering their kingdom.

The riders wore black leather jackets with the same silver emblem stitched across their backs.

The Raven Riders.

The most feared biker group in the academy.

Teachers hated them.

Students admired them.

Nobody dared challenge them.

At the front rode Brian Hayes.

His black motorcycle stopped with a low growl before he removed his helmet in one smooth motion.

Dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead.

His sharp jawline, piercing gray eyes and effortless confidence made almost every girl on campus stare.

He wasn't just handsome.

He knew it.

His family owned one of the largest business empires in the country, and everyone at Ravenhill Academy knew the Hayes name.

Money.

Power.

Popularity.

Brian had everything.

Everything except kindness.

He casually ran a hand through his hair while his friends climbed off their bikes.

"Dude, tonight's race is going to be insane," one of them laughed.

"You'd better not chicken out this time," another teased.

Brian smirked.

"I don't lose."

The girls nearby squealed.

Charlotte tightened her grip on her backpack.

She tried to disappear into the crowd before he noticed her.

Too late.

Brian's eyes landed on her instantly.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"Well, well..."

His deep voice carried across the courtyard.

"Look who's still alive."

Several students turned toward Charlotte.

Whispers immediately spread through the crowd.

"Poor girl."

"He's starting already."

"I almost feel bad for her."

Brian walked toward her with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

His friends followed behind him, already grinning.

Charlotte lowered her eyes.

Just keep walking.

Don't answer.

Don't react.

That was the only way to survive him.

Brian stepped directly into her path.

"Going somewhere, Pancake Girl?"

Laughter erupted behind him.

One of his friends chuckled.

"Maybe she's rushing back home to flip pancakes."

Another added loudly, "Careful, Brian. If you distract her too much, breakfast might get burnt."

The boys burst into laughter.

Charlotte swallowed hard.

"I... I have class."

Brian tilted his head.

"Oh?"

He leaned down slightly until their faces were only inches apart.

"I don't remember saying you could leave."

Charlotte's heart pounded.

She hated how easily he invaded her space.

She hated that everyone was watching.

Most of all...

She hated that no one ever stepped in.

Brian slowly reached toward her shoulder.

For one brief second, Charlotte thought he was actually going to move aside.

Instead...

He pinched the worn strap of her old backpack between two fingers.

"This thing still alive?"

Another round of laughter echoed through the courtyard.

Brian examined the torn fabric with fake curiosity.

"I've seen garbage bags in better condition."

Charlotte's cheeks burned.

It was the same backpack she'd begged her parents to replace.

The same one they'd refused to buy.

She gently pulled it back.

"It still works."

Brian raised an eyebrow.

"It still works?"

He looked at his friends.

"Did you hear that?"

One of them laughed.

"Guess she's too poor to know the difference."

Brian shrugged dramatically.

"I've got spare gym bags that cost more than everything she's wearing."

More laughter.

Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.

Don't cry.

Not here.

Not in front of them.

Brian watched her carefully.

He expected tears.

He expected her to beg him to stop.

Instead...

She simply looked down and whispered,

"Can I go now?"

For some reason...

Her quiet voice irritated him.

He couldn't explain why.

Most people argued with him.

Most people got angry.

Charlotte never did.

She simply accepted every insult as if she believed she deserved it.

Something about that annoyed him.

Before he could say another word, the school bell rang.

Students immediately hurried toward their classrooms.

Brian stepped aside with a careless shrug.

"Lucky you."

Charlotte didn't wait.

She walked past him as quickly as she could, refusing to look back.

Behind her, one of Brian's friends laughed.

"You scared her again."

Brian watched the small figure disappear into the building.

His smirk slowly faded.

"...She's weird."

"What do you mean?" one of the boys asked.

Brian shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Nothing."

But for reasons he couldn't explain...

His eyes followed Charlotte until she disappeared from sight.