When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of freshman orientation, right in the middle of that awkward ice-breaker activity.

"Show us some moves! Show us some moves!" Everyone clapped and cheered, with Juliana Webb persistently nudging me.

"Come on, everyone's looking forward to your performance!" she urged, a sly smile on her face.

I squinted at her, letting out a dry laugh. "If you're in the mood to dance, feel free. I'm not interested."

She hadn't expected my refusal and stood there, taken aback.

"How can you not join in? Weren't you always keen on making friends with everyone? Besides, Micah Jones, the campus heartthrob, is in our group today. This is such a great chance, and you're just letting it pass by..."

Juliana clung to my hand with a firm grip. "You know, there's a big difference between people from small towns and those from the city. If you want to shed that small-town image, you need to blend in with the group."

I shook her hand off. "Oh? Does city life revolve around borderline dancing?"

"Why don't you show us how it's done then? I'm not really the best..." she faltered.

Juliana's expression stiffened. "You know I'm here on an arts scholarship."

Reading between the lines, I understood she couldn't dance either.

I pretended not to get the hint. "Oh, I'm well aware of your musical, artistic, and crafty talents, Juliana. You're fantastic with instruments, so I bet your dancing isn't half bad either."

"Go on, show us how city folks flaunt their talents! Let this country girl see how it's done!"

The chants grew louder around us. "Dance! Dance! Stop being so uptight!"

Seeing that I wasn't giving in, Juliana had no choice but to step up herself.

She walked toward the center of the group, and I noticed her legs trembling with every step.

Kate Collins fumbled clumsily through the dance routine, drawing laughter from everyone around her. After that incident, Juliana Webb never asked her to perform in front of their classmates again.

In our freshman year, the freshman mixer was a major event, and Juliana always insisted on dragging me along. With her slender frame, she looked good in anything, while I, with a bit of a belly, often slouched when I walked.

“Kate, we're best friends. Let’s wear matching outfits!” she exclaimed, pulling two Victorian-style dresses of the same size from her wardrobe and tossing one to me.

The dress fit her perfectly. But on me, it clung to my arms and accentuated my belly, making me look completely ridiculous. I tried to change into something else, but she stopped me.

“Just wear it; it looks great. This is what the city folks wear. If you wear your own clothes, you’ll look like a country bumpkin.”

At the co-ed mixer, she seated me right next to her. I became her foil.

The guys across from us whispered and snickered, “Trying to be a fashionista with that figure, wearing that dress? Her belly is almost in another country, haha.”

I looked down at my clothes, afraid to move for fear of a wardrobe malfunction.

I never wore makeup, but Juliana had applied hers flawlessly. She tried to convince me, “Honestly, I envy you for going natural. You don’t need makeup to look good, while I have to rely on it to enhance my features…”

But at the mixer, her tune changed.

“Don’t mind Kate not wearing makeup, everyone. I’ve tried to teach her, but she doesn’t care about her appearance or hygiene. Maybe she doesn’t care what others think.”

Juliana’s words made it sound like I had let her down. Compared to her, I felt like an exhibit in a sideshow, silent and unsure of how to defend myself, so everyone just accepted what she said.

Thanks to my “contrast,” the guys gave Juliana a nickname— “The Belle of the Ball.”

Later, the college organized a Top Ten Singers competition, and Juliana deliberately kept it from me. Little did she know, I overheard some classmates talking about it and managed to submit my application just before the deadline.

On the day of the preliminary selection, Juliana was visibly surprised to see me in the waiting room.

“Kate, what are you doing here?” she asked, masking her surprise with a smile.

I replied calmly, “Why wouldn’t I be here? If you can enter this competition, why can’t I?”

Juliana was caught off guard. “I told the class president not to tell you about it…”

Realizing her slip, she quickly added, “I mean, you don’t like performing in public, so I wanted to spare you the stress. See how considerate I am?”

She patted my shoulder with a forced smile, trying to gloss over it.

“Participants, get ready for your auditions,” the overseeing teacher announced to everyone.

Almost everyone in the school had heard of Juliana, the so-called “once-in-a-generation school beauty,” and saw her through rose-colored glasses.

“Juliana, I bet you sing beautifully too…” a girl beside her gushed.

Juliana feigned modesty, scratching her head. “Oh, not really. I got into our college through my instrumental skills. Singing is just a hobby.”

“That’s amazing! Even if singing isn’t your major, you must be fantastic!” the girl continued to flatter her.

As the first round of selections wrapped up, the teacher prepared to announce the final spot on the list. Juliana hadn’t been called yet and was getting anxious.

“The final contestant advancing is… Kate Collins.”

Juliana jumped to her feet. “That can’t be right! Did you make a mistake? I’m Juliana Webb, not Kate Collins.”

She tried to catch the teacher’s eye, but they remained firm.

“No mistake—Kate Collins is the contestant. We uphold a principle of fairness and will never allow favoritism.”

I followed the teacher into the audition room, leaving Juliana outside, her face flushed with embarrassment.

To celebrate reaching the finals, I decided to treat my roommates to a buffet. Juliana Webb piled her plates high with various meats, pastries, and some fried chicken tenders and fries.

"Singing really drains your energy. These should help you recover. Kate, you should have some more," she urged, sliding the plates in my direction.

I've never been a fan of pastries, but in my past life, I gave in to her persistent encouragement and indulged in a lot of sweets, leading to weight gain and even diabetes. This time, I nudged the plate back towards her.

"Let's agree on this: whoever takes it, eats it. If you waste food at a buffet, there's a penalty."

Juliana seemed embarrassed. "But there's no way I can finish all these pastries by myself..."

I smiled at her. "I assumed city folks like you were aware of the fines for not finishing your food. Go on!"

I chose some shrimp and beef prepared in a light broth, focusing on a high-protein meal along with broccoli and other vegetables, aiming for a balanced diet without putting on weight.

Juliana's curiosity was piqued. "Kate, are you on a diet or something?"

"No, I just love broccoli. You don't see much of it in the countryside, so I picked a buffet to indulge."

Juliana’s expression became more sour at my words.

"Alright, but you really shouldn't be dieting. Don't end up like me, feeling like a gust of wind could knock you over."

"I'm quite envious of your figure. My parents always say that being well-rounded is a sign of good fortune."

She playfully pinched my cheek. "Look at you, just like a good luck charm. So full of prosperity!"

I internally scoffed at the mention of 'good fortune.' After all the trouble she'd caused me before, what luck was there to speak of?

Disregarding her continued protests, Juliana started to look a bit desperate.

"Kate, come on, help me out and have a little. There are just too many pastries for me alone."

I waved her off, and one of our roommates, seeing what was happening, offered to help. "I'll give you a hand with some of these, but next time, only take what you can finish. Don't load up on pastries you won't eat."

Since then, I kept up a routine of daily exercise.

Unexpectedly, Micah Jones, who in my previous life had teamed up with me, also enjoyed working out. We often saw each other at the track, and over time, he started noticing me more.

"Hey, need a break? Let me buy you something to drink," he offered, extending a friendly gesture.

"I've seen you getting fitter over the months," he noted. "You've got real commitment."

I laughed. "Well, you're pretty committed yourself."

Micah rubbed the back of his head, a bit bashful. "Hey, can I add you on WhatsApp?"

And so, Micah and I became friends, coordinating our workouts together.

Despite Juliana's comments about envying my weight, she quietly began skipping meals, only drinking small amounts of water to avoid feeling bloated. When she saw Micah picking me up for our workouts at the track, she insisted on joining us.

"Micah, Kate's a bit slow because she's not as thin, but I can definitely keep up," she asserted.

Micah ignored her, yet she shamelessly tagged along.

Once we started running, she barely managed a few steps before dramatically fainting and collapsing awkwardly on the ground.

Having embarrassed herself in front of Micah, she tried to regain her composure.

"Micah, I only passed out because I'm too skinny. If I were as sturdy as Kate, keeping up would be no problem."

Micah, quiet until that moment, suddenly responded.

"Enough with the chubby comments. Kate's not overweight at all."

"Take care of your own health first. You're like a skeleton, and those people who call you a once-in-a-millennium beauty must be mistaken. More like a once-in-a-millennium mummy."

I hadn’t expected Micah to defend me like that.