She Ripped My Dress, I Burned Her World

She clutched her swollen face and sobbed in a trembling voice.

“Director, we were just fooling around. I didn’t expect Emily to suddenly go crazy and start hitting me.”

I gave a cold laugh and looked at everyone.

“Fooling around?”

“Deliberately altering my outfit so it exposed my underwear on stage—you call that fooling around?”

“What?”

The Runway Director’s face darkened. The bystanders began to murmur.

“Ripping runway outfits? Those are company property, you can’t just damage them. And they’re designed by professional designers—who gives you the right to alter them?”

“Exposing underwear? That’s clearly sabotage.”

“No wonder Vanessa reacted so aggressively—she was trying to cover up her own guilt.”

Vanessa put on her innocent look.

“No, please, let me explain. I swear I was only playing around. Maybe I just don’t know better—I grew up in a small town, and that’s how we played. Emily is just too serious.”

I pulled out one of the dresses she had ruined.

“Too serious? If it’s such a joke, why don’t you wear this yourself?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t trying to humiliate me on stage.”

Her lies collapsed instantly.

I turned to the director, speaking slowly and firmly.

“This time I’ll let it go. But if it happens again, I won’t ask anyone’s opinion—I’ll go straight to the police.”

I put on my clothes and walked out, leaving Vanessa to face the director’s scolding.

Since I had been given another chance at life, I was determined to return every ounce of humiliation I had suffered before.

I knew Vanessa wouldn’t give up easily, so I prepared myself to collect evidence early. Back in the dorm, I switched on my phone’s recording function.

My past life had taught me one lesson: the weak are bullied, but the strong are respected.

Soon, two of my roommates returned, looking at me with mixed expressions.

Grace Parker grabbed my hand.

“Emily, weren’t you too harsh today? We’re all roommates—no matter what she did, you shouldn’t have hit her.”

“Vanessa’s actually a good person. She’s just from a small town, insecure, and only wanted to fit in by joking around.”

Chloe Adams nodded.

“Yeah, she looked so pitiful, I couldn’t stand it.”

Of course—it’s always easy to ask for forgiveness when you’re not the victim. That was how it went in my past life too—everyone told me to be the bigger person, to overlook her cruelty.

This time, I didn’t argue. I simply pulled out more evidence from my closet.

“Look at these. She altered all of my dresses—if you can even call it ‘altering.’ She cut them apart, tore them into rags. She turned every long dress into a miniskirt so short it shows my underwear.”

I held up another outfit.

“And this one was supposed to be my training outfit today. Tell me, can this still be worn?”

Their faces turned pale. The dress was not only ugly, but cut so short it exposed nearly everything. One step on stage, and the humiliation would be complete.