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MidReal Story
The Unwanted Princess
Scenario:a popluar boy named jake fell in love with a girl named hana she was different from the other girl her skin tone was caramel and one of her eye was blue and the other one was green she was getting bully by other girls. when jake with hana he try to give her a hug or give her noticeable signs that he likes her
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Jake
He is a high school boy who falls deeply in love with Hana. He is observant, kind, and persistent. Jake notices Hana's uniqueness and is drawn to her beauty and vulnerability. Despite the risk of social backlash, he tries to approach Hana and show his affection, such as leaving notes and flowers. He helps Hana during a school evacuation, further deepening their connection. Jake's feelings for Hana become increasingly intense, leading him to make a bold decision.
Hana
She is a girl with an unusual appearance, having one blue eye and one green eye. She is shy, sensitive, and sweet. Hana stands out as an outsider due to her looks, often being bullied by other girls. She catches Jake's attention and becomes the object of his affections. During a school evacuation, Hana clings to Jake for comfort. Despite her initial shyness, she responds warmly to Jake's gestures. Their interaction suggests a budding romance that defies social norms.
When I first fell in love with Hana, it was from afar.
I didn’t know her personally, but I saw her often.
She was a year younger than me and our school was not very big.
Everyone pretty much knew everyone else, but there were cliques and groups that stuck together.
I was in one of the popular groups, consisting of boys and girls who were considered ‘normal’.
Hana was not in any group.
She was an outsider, even though she went to the same school as us and lived in the same town.
I think it was because of her looks.
She had a caramel-coloured skin tone, which was beautiful, and her hair was pitch black and straight.
But it was her eyes that made her stand out even more.
One of them was blue, and the other one was green.
It sounded weird, but trust me, it was hot.
I mean, who would want to look like every other girl in town?
They all had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a skin tone that ranged from very pale to slightly tanned during summer.
I loved Hana’s uniqueness and thought she was stunningly beautiful.
I noticed that she got bullied often by the girls in my year.
They would call her names, push her around and steal stuff from her backpack.
During lunch break, I would sit with my group of friends at our usual table.
But I always made sure to sit in a way that I could see Hana from the corner of my eye.
She would sit at a table in the corner of the cafeteria, all alone.
She would pick at her food and read a book.
She never talked to anyone, and no one ever talked to her.
I was sitting with my group of friends, eating my lunch and keeping an eye on Hana, when Sarah walked past with her two minions.
They were laughing and whispering amongst themselves as they walked by Hana’s table.
Then, Sarah ‘accidentally’ bumped into Hana’s table, knocking her milk carton onto her lap.
The three girls giggled and continued walking away while Hana sat there in shock.
My fingers gripped the edge of my table as I watched her quietly dab at her uniform with napkins.
Her face was bright red with embarrassment and anger.
I stood up to go help her, but Tom grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. "What are you doing?"
I asked him angrily.
"Why did you stop me?"
"Are you crazy?"
Tom asked me.
"Do you want to commit social suicide?"
"What are you talking about?"
I asked him, confused.
"You know how Sarah hates Hana. If you go help her now, you will be dead meat. You will be a loser just like Hana," he said to me while I watched Hana get up from her seat and walk out of the cafeteria with her head hung low in shame.
She left her half-eaten lunch on the table.
I sat down again and pushed my own food away from me.
"Tom, I can't just sit here and do nothing," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Listen, if you really want to help her, do it when no one's watching," Tom replied, glancing around nervously.
"But what if she needs someone now?" I insisted, feeling the urgency in my chest.
Tom sighed, his eyes darting towards Sarah and her friends, who were now sitting at a table across from us.
"Fine, but be quick about it. And don't let anyone see you," he warned, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.
I got up from my seat and quickly walked out of the cafeteria, scanning the hallway for any sign of Hana.
I spotted her hurrying down the empty hallway, her wet uniform leaving small droplets on the floor.
I followed her at a safe distance, not wanting to scare her or make her feel uncomfortable.
She turned a corner and ducked into a room at the end of the hall.
I recognized it as the art room, which was usually empty during lunch hours since no classes were held there then.
I approached the door cautiously, peeking through the window to see what she was doing.
She was standing by the sink area, grabbing paper towels and dabbing at her shirt where it was stained with milk.
Her face was still red with embarrassment, and I could tell she was trying to hold back tears. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
Should I go in and offer to help her?
Or should I leave her alone and let her handle it herself?
As I stood there contemplating what to do, I heard footsteps approaching from down the hall.
I quickly moved away from the door and pressed myself against the wall, holding my breath as Sarah and her minions walked by.
They were laughing and talking amongst themselves, completely unaware of my presence.
As soon as they passed me, I let out a sigh of relief and turned back towards the art room door.
But just as I was about to open it, I heard Hana's voice coming from inside.
"Who's there?"
She sounded scared and unsure of herself.
I push the door open slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.
I step inside the room, and she turns to face me.
She's still standing by the sink, her milk-stained uniform darkening the fabric across her chest.
Paper towels litter the counter, and there's a crumpled pile on the floor next to her feet.
When she sees me, her mismatched eyes widen with surprise and fear.
She takes a step back, clutching fresh paper towels in her fist.
I reach for the paper towel dispenser on the wall and pull out a few more sheets.
"Here," I say, extending them towards her.
My hand trembles slightly as I hold out the offering.
She hesitates for a moment, then reaches for the paper towels.
Her fingers brush against mine as she takes them from me, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
Standing by the sink, I watch as she dabs at the stain on her shirt.
Her shoulders relax a little at my words, but she still keeps her guard up.
The milk has left a large stain down the front of her blue uniform shirt, and it's starting to spread.
She dabs at it mechanically with the paper towels I gave her.
The silence between us is heavy, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
I grab some more paper towels and dampen them with warm water from the sink.
Then, I step closer to her and hold out the wet paper towels.
"Here," I say softly, not wanting to scare her away.
She flinches slightly when I move closer, but she doesn't back away.
She takes the wet paper towels from me and continues to dab at the stain on her shirt. The art room smells of paint and wet paper.
There are canvases stacked against the walls, some of them still damp from recent projects.
Through the windows, I can see other students walking past outside, completely unaware of our moment in here.
I take a deep breath and step even closer to Hana.
I lean against the edge of the sink, keeping a respectful distance from her.
She shakes her head without looking up at me, her long dark hair falling around her face.
But I notice that her hands are shaking as she dabs at the stain.
The milk has soaked through her shirt and left a large wet patch across her shoulder and chest.
I can see the outline of her white bra through the fabric, and I quickly look away, not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already are.
A group of students walks past the art room door, their voices muffled by the thick walls.
Hana tenses at the sound, crumpling the paper towel in her fist.
I reach for some more paper towels, moving slowly so I don't startle her.
The silence stretches between us until I can't stand it anymore. "Do you need any more help?"
I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Hana finally looks up, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asks, her voice tinged with suspicion.
I hesitate, then decide to be honest. "Because I know what it's like to feel alone."
I notice Hana shivering slightly, her thin white uniform shirt still damp and clinging uncomfortably to her skin.
Without thinking, I shrug off my navy blue school jacket.
The movement makes Hana step back, pressing against the sink.
"Here," I say softly, holding out the jacket.
"To cover up until it dries."
She stares at the jacket, then at me, her different-colored eyes searching my face.
The jacket trembles in my outstretched hand as seconds tick by.
A group of laughing students passes the art room, their shadows briefly darkening the windows.
I hold my breath as Hana slowly reaches out and takes the jacket from my hand.
Her fingers tremble as she wraps it around her shoulders, pulling the fabric close to cover the wet stain on her shirt.
The jacket is too big for her smaller frame, hanging loose over her shoulders and down to her hips.
But she tugs it tighter, pulling the collar up to her neck.
She inhales deeply, and I know she can smell my cologne on the fabric.
A tiny smile plays on her lips as she looks down at the floor, her caramel cheeks flushing pink.
The art room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing.
The familiar scent of my cologne fills the air, a comforting reminder of home.
When she finally looks up at me again, her blue and green eyes are shining with unshed tears.
I gesture toward the art room stools lined up at the painting station, keeping my movements slow and deliberate.
Hana clutches my jacket tighter around herself, but she nods slightly.
I pull out two stools, making sure to leave enough space between them.
The metal legs scrape against the floor, echoing in the empty room.
Hana perches on the edge of her stool, her posture tense.
She fidgets with the cuff of my jacket sleeve, rolling it between her fingers.
I sit down carefully, angling my body toward her while keeping a safe distance between us.
Hana breaks the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think anyone noticed me, you know."
I lean forward slightly, my gaze steady. "I've always noticed you, Hana."
My heart pounds in my chest as I watch her fingers fidget with the sleeve of my jacket.
The late afternoon sun streams through the art room windows, casting long shadows across the paint-splattered floor.
Hana's mismatched eyes remain fixed on the floor, refusing to meet my gaze.
The silence between us is heavy, but it feels comfortable, like a shared secret.
I move slowly, like approaching a frightened animal.
I slide my hand across the cool metal table, careful not to make any sudden movements.
My fingers hover uncertainly for a moment before settling over her small, trembling hand.
She tenses at first, but she doesn't pull away.
I lean forward slightly on my stool, drawn by the warmth radiating from her.
My jacket engulfs her small frame, making her look fragile yet somehow more present than before.
She fiddles with a loose thread on the sleeve, her fingers moving in nervous circles.
The art room's silence wraps around us like a cocoon, broken only by distant footsteps in the hallway.
My palm remains steady on the table near her hand, not pushing, just existing in her space.
After what feels like hours, her shoulders relax and her chin lifts.
She leans closer, our hands still touching on the cold metal table.
Her mismatched eyes dart between our joined hands and my face, uncertain but not pulling away.
The afternoon light casts long shadows through the art room windows, making the moment feel suspended in time.
My throat feels dry as I gather my courage.
The loose thread she was fidgeting with on my jacket sleeve dangles forgotten.
Her small hand trembles beneath mine, and I can feel her pulse racing through her fingertips.
The hallway outside has gone quiet, leaving us truly alone.
Hana finally meets my gaze, her voice trembling but determined. "I need to tell you something, something I've never told anyone."
I nod, my heart pounding louder in anticipation. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."
She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I think I know who took the painting."
I lean closer, my fingers curling around hers on the cold metal table.
Her mismatched eyes dart to the classroom door and then back to our hands.
The afternoon sun casts long shadows through the art room windows, making the room feel even more secluded.
She takes several deep breaths, her small frame hunching forward as she pulls my jacket tighter around her.
Her voice is barely a whisper when she finally speaks.
"I saw it in the art room one day, hidden behind a stack of canvases. It was an old painting, but it looked... important."
She pauses, glancing nervously at the door again.
The hallway outside remains quiet, but I can sense her hesitation.
I give her hand a gentle squeeze, urging her to continue.
"It was gone the next day," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.
"I didn't think much of it until I heard people talking about the missing painting."
As she speaks, footsteps echo down the hallway outside the classroom.
I lean closer, my voice dropping to match her whispers.
"Do you think there might be some clue here? Maybe we should check the art room."
Her hand tightens in mine at the suggestion.
She nods slowly, her mismatched eyes darting to the storage closet at the back of the room.
Still wearing my jacket, she slides off her stool, pulling me with her toward the closet.
Our footsteps echo in the empty room as we approach the metal door.
I reach for the handle, but Hana suddenly grabs my arm, pointing to fresh scratch marks around the lock.
Her voice is urgent, a mix of fear and excitement. "Someone's been here recently."
I glance at her, my heart racing. "Do you think they were looking for the painting too?"
She nods, her grip on my arm tightening. "We need to be careful; whoever it is might still be around."
