Beg Me for Mercy

My dormmate invites me to a college mate's engagement party. I choose an expensive tailor-made gown for the occasion.

When I arrive at the hotel, I see several of my former classmates are already there. Everyone looks like they're doing well—they're wearing expensive clothing. Someone is even wearing something from a luxury brand.

As soon as I enter the private room, a familiar classmate rolls her eyes at me. "Look at who it is—the woman who was once the most outstanding student in our class. You're dressed so plainly for such an important occasion."

Everyone is circled around the classmate who's wearing something from a luxury brand. They ignore me. Only our former class monitor clinks glasses with me and consoles me softly. "It's good enough that you're here. You're dressed plainly, but don't give up. You'll succeed one day."

I sip my wine and smile. "My outfit may not be too opulent, but it's an expensive, tailor-made piece. It's 100% handcrafted by a master designer."

My schedule was packed with work commitments, alongside a long list of social events. But when my former class monitor, Sky Watson, insisted that the engagement party was a rare chance to get everyone together, I finally agreed to attend.

Out of consideration for my old classmates, I even postponed an important business deal just to make time for it. I had expected the reunion to be sentimental, but instead, the room buzzed with nothing but bragging and flattery.

Disappointed and irritated, I was about to get up and leave.

Sky caught on immediately and stopped me. "Celia, don't mind what everyone else is saying. Since you're already here, why don't you stay for a while?"

I was just about to respond when a former classmate—who had already rolled her eyes at me earlier—let out a mocking snort.

"If you're already here, you might as well eat, right? No point in coming for nothing. That reminds me. Have you ever seen food this fancy before?"

She covered her mouth in an exaggerated attempt to stifle a laugh.

I glanced at her, my voice calm. "And what exactly does that have to do with you? I only came because I didn't want to disappoint Sky. Don't bother inviting me to things like this again."

I hadn't even finished speaking when Mabel Fairbank—the center of attention that evening—suddenly raised her voice, saying, "Celia, don't you think you're being a little too much? Do you think you're so high and mighty?"

Mabel twisted my words, and just like that, the others turned against me.

"Give me a break. Does she think she's the First Lady or something?"

"Look at that outfit. Even a beggar would turn it down."

"Exactly! She calls herself a white-collar worker, but she's just some low-ranking employee. All that studying back in the day—what good did it do her?"

How ridiculous! I was the one who signed paychecks for white-collar workers.

"Celia, stop throwing a tantrum. Why? Are you upset just because we