4-WAR BEGINS.

SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.

As I'd suspected, Roxanne didn't wait before firing the first blow. It came before the second period that day, like a silent, slow poison, but I felt it. 

The photo hit before the second period.

I didn’t even get the chance to breathe.

There it was, blasted across every group chat like gospel. A shot of me curled into Lucien’s lap, my head tilted back in laughter, his hand on my waist like I belonged there. Like I was his.

A doctored photo, but for some reason, everyone believed it, even though they knew Lucien and I never hung out, not even for a project. His wing of the school was completely different from mine, and off-limits to the scholarship kids.

Everyone still believed it, and it spread like wildfire. The rumour is going wild across the school. I heard the whispers before I saw the caption.

SELLING YOURSELF FOR TUITION? DADDY'S WORK AS THE HELP MUST NOT BE PAYING OFF.

The first time I saw it, my heart didn’t break.

It clenched, tight, hot, furious, ready to burn them all for their allegations. My first kiss was today, in front of the entire school, and not by the one I had wanted my whole life.

I'm not like the rest of them; I'd been saving myself for Matt, thinking of the day he'd come around and hoping it would be soon.  There was no way it could have been true. 

By the time the bell rang, three more rumours had already spiralled:

A fake chat where I was begging Lucien to sleep with me

A whisper that I was pregnant with his child.

And the worst?

That I was being passed around like a discount whore.

Funny how fast the world turns on you the second you stop being quiet.

----------------------

I slammed my locker shut and forced myself to walk straight, back stiff, chin high, just as Lucien had said earlier this morning. Even when people whispered loud enough for me to hear, their sneers like vicious animals ready to prey on me.

Even when girls stepped aside like my skin might infect them, even when boys whistled as I walked by, acting like they hadn't slept with more than half the school.

They wanted to see me burn, to see me fall, to see me crawl, but for some reason, I felt strong. Maybe it was Lucien and the power he had slowly rubbing off on me, but I made a choice.

I wouldn't fall, not for them.

Fuck their status, their parent's money, their wealth.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Rounding off the corner, and heading to my next class, I stop in my tracks, the sight of the last person I wanted to see before me.

Matt.

Lookin away, I move to head into the class room, only to be stopped abruptly by his wrists closing around mine.

"Come with me." He had said, pulling me along and not stopping till we got to the east staircase.

A spot we shared often times, especially when the bullying got too much.

Slo,” he said, soft and syrupy calling me by the endearment he had given me years ago, like he hadn’t stabbed me in the back less than a day ago. “You don’t have to do this. We both know he’s using you.”

Removing my wrist from his hold, I stare him deep in the eye, something I struggled to do up untill yesterday, when I thought we had a chance, and he hadn't backstabbed me

. “You really think I need saving?”

His expression twisted into something condescending. “You’re better than this. You used to care about what people said, your future. Your reputation. You used to be someone I would be proud of, but now, you're just what?”

“And you used to be someone I trusted,” I shot back. “What happened to that?”

Matt blinked, faltered for a second. “You’re not being rational. Roxanne’s just upset—”

“You mean the same Roxanne you cheated with? Or a new one I don’t know about yet?” I cut him off, not ready to listen to what he had to say.

He flinched.

I smiled at that, pure pride filling me at the sight of the effects of my words on him.

“Slo, just—” He started, but I couldn't care less.

Not anymore.

I stepped around him, not bothering to look back. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to anymore.”

I felt it before I saw him.

Lucien.

Watching me from the third-floor railing like a god surveying his kingdom, his jacket slung over one shoulder, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw sharp, tie hanging loose like he didn’t have a care in the world.

But he was watching me.

His ocean blue eyes looking down at me in pride, a smirk on his full lips, his golden hair still in place, like it had a mind of it's own, and would not dare ruin his appearance.

He stared at me in a particular way; it made my heart beat faster, my chest constricted as I stare back at him, and something in me shifts as  I realize what his stare is about.

It's like I’d done something he approved of.

Something brutal. Something strong.

Like I made him proud.

And I liked it.

By lunch, the flames were everywhere, consuming it all with nothing left in it's wake.

That fake chat? It’d gone viral., spreading through the entire school, even the janitors knew about it. I could tell from the way they looked at me as they cleaned their spot, their eyes full of pity and worry. 

They were also treated worse than animals in this school, so they catered to the scholarship kids in secret, treating us better than anyone else here had.

The rumor about me being pregnant? Spread like wildfire in the cafeteria as everyone whispered loud enough for me to hear;

'You think she'll abort it?'

'Um, yes. Eldrich certainly wouldn't want some charity case pregnant with his grand kid.' 

Two girls said from where they'd sat, their group of five snickering as they ate their salad, their paper thin bodies almost disappearing as they snickered.

The whispers about me being "passed around"? They weren’t even whispered anymore, everyone said it to my ear shot, not caring that I was human as well.

And Roxanne?

She laughed loudest, her victory smirk plastered on her face like a permanent tattoo as she moved through the cafeteria, the one place the scholarship kids and some of the elite got to be in a place together; but it was still divided according to class. The scholarship kids were to sit at the farthest part of the hall, closest to the trash cans.

All of a sudden, like an angel smiled from above, everyone's phones pinged loudly in the hall. Some buzzed, some rang, and like clock work, everyone pulled them out to see what was going on.

As did I.

With wide eyes, I read the tabloids on my screen, shock and confusion gripping me.

The news had changed, everything had changed. I stared at the black, white and red words on my phone in shock.

There were four new rumors.....

That Roxanne and Matt were caught in the drama closet by a teacher.

That their sex tape was going around.

That maybe Matt wasn’t as “loyal” as he pretended to be.

That Matt's father's company was going bankrupt.

What the fuck??

Who could have done this?

Like the devil himself whispered in my ears,' look up', I looked up, my eyes moving around in interest.

And there he was;

Lucien Knox fucking Ravenscroft.

SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.

It wasn’t real.

But in Ravenscroft Academy, truth never mattered.

Only power did.

And Lucien?

He had all of it. This school was practically his playground—a field his father had given him; he owned everything. He smirks at me, a grin in his eyes as he swirls his phone in his hand, the tattoo of an ace of spades beautifully drawn on the back of his right hand.

Overwhelmed, I rose from my seat, barely giving a damn about who was watching.

Everyone's eyes were on Roxanne, the new object of all gossip.

That's what happens when Lucien strips his protection from you-- you're left on your own, the wolves and sharks ready to close in on you.

I found myself in the girls’ bathroom after that.  I needed a second to breathe, maybe to hide, the weight of everything crushing me.

The hum of the fluorescent light above buzzed too loudly, the smell of lavender soap almost suffocating. I gripped the sink, knuckles whitening, watching my reflection like she might give me an answer. My eyes appeared red as I fought the urge to cry.

To scream.

To run... and hide, far away from this school.

A few minutes later, I could feel myself returning to normal as my breathing evened out, my red eyes cleared, and I could finally breathe without the urge to curl up in a ball and cry. The quiet helped; no one else was in the bathroom, so I had my thoughts to myself.

I was wrong.

The door slammed open, the expensive wood hit the wall so hard, I thought it would fly off its hinges; even if it did, the parents would make another generous donation, and it would be forgotten.

I looked at the figure in the mirror; the last person I wanted to see had walked in. Her possey of bimbos behind her.

Roxanne.

“You just can’t stop begging for attention, can you?” she spat, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Slut in a scholarship skirt.” She narrows her eyes, sharpening them into slits that could cut through ice. 

But for some reason, maybe it was the weight of it all, the fear of my father finding out, of my father losing his job, of Matt's betrayal.....Lucien's power, and the way it rubbed off on me from this morning, but I made one decision;

Not today.

Not anymore.

I turned slowly, drying my hands on the edge of my skirt, my eyes finding hers in the mirror before I faced her fully. She stood, waiting for my response, probably expecting me to shrink as I always did before her.

“I might be a charity case,” I said, my voice calm like a frozen blade, “but at least I don’t come with a receipt.”

Her mouth parted, the first crack in her perfect porcelain façade. She looks at her possey of bimbos, as though she needed them to speak up on her behalf, but even they were shocked.

“You’re not even his type,” she hissed, her porcelain face turned red; with embarrassment? 

Shock?

I didn't know, and I didn't care.

I took a step toward her, tilting my head, studying her the way you might study an insect you’re deciding whether to kill.

She noticed, as she slightly moved back, her eyes sparkling with something I had never seen before.

Fear.

“You’re so plastic, Roxanne…” I let the pause stretch, savoring it. “…even your lies squeak.”

For a moment, she just stood there, chest rising and falling fast, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or cry, her face turned redder as each second passed.

I thought she would burst into flames.

Then I felt it. The weight of a presence.

A shadow shifted just beyond the doorway, and a tall form stood confidently, revealing himself. His smirk was still on his face as his face shone with something.

Satisfaction.

Lucien.

He leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to.

Roxanne turns, noticing his presence, and like a child, she recoils in shock at the sight of him. A few seconds later, as we waited for her to do something, she suddenly stormed out like a petulant child, groaning as she walked. 

Her possey followed behind her, lapping after their queen bee like mindless robots.

Lucien nods at me, giving me his approval, before walking away.

Later that day....

The hallway was darker than usual when I stepped out, like the whole building was holding its breath. School was almost over. Students poured out of halls into the grand hallway fit to hold a million people at once, their expensive uniforms adding to the air of class and wealth in the atmosphere.

I headed out of class, trying my hardest not to search for Matt; he and I usually walked home together.

Lucien was still there. Like he had been waiting for me, he looked up the moment I walked out of the hall and into the hallway.

He pushed off the wall, straightening, a slow smile curving his mouth, as he walked up to me. His long legs moved with expertise, like he belonged on the runway.

“You saw the new rumor?” I asked.

A dangerous glint lit his eyes. “One rumor deserves another.” He said, shrugging his shoulders lazily.

We both knew he meant the one he’d already dropped — the one about Roxanne and Matt and a conveniently leaked sex tape. It had spread like wildfire before the ashes of the first rumor about me could even settle.

But now, he wasn’t interested in defense. He was in attack mode.

“Let’s play, princess,” he said, stepping closer until I could feel the heat of him.

“People know this is fake,” I told him. “They know you don’t want me.” It felt like everyone was looking at us, and they probably were.

The hall suddenly became silent, so silent, even a pin drop would be heard.

I wasn't his type. I was too nerdy, too book smart, and certainly, I was too poor.

His smirk deepened, and for a split second, it looked almost real — like there was a truth under it he wasn’t ready to admit.

“They think I’m faking it too,” he murmured. “That I don’t want you.”

I felt like asking him if he did.

If he wanted me.

The space between us shrank as he moved closer to me, his lean muscled body against mine, electricity crackling in the air. My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, almost ringing as I stared into his ocean blue eyes; the orbs looked so beautiful, they could suck someone's soul in without a fight.

Then, he said softly, “Want to prove them wrong?” He whispered in my ear, his hands wrapped around my waist. He smelled so good, I had the urge to breathe in his scent.

I should’ve laughed. I should’ve rolled my eyes, stepped back, and reminded him that this was a deal, a game.

Instead, I stepped forward, closing any air around us, emboldened by his presence and the momentum of everyone watching us.

And I kissed him.

It was like flipping a switch.

One second, his mouth was just warm against mine. The next, his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, his lips hungry like he wanted to consume the air I breathed.

The world of Ravenscroft High tilted. I clutched at his jacket, not because I needed to, but because I wanted to ground myself, to prevent my knees from weakening from how good it felt.

When I finally pulled away, my breath came fast, my lips tingling.

“You said fake,” I whispered, my heartbeat thudded louder in my ears as I tried to catch my breath, and I appeared not too affected by how good that kiss was.

“That,” he said with a slow, wicked smile, “felt real.”

And God help me, he was right.

"Miss Bishop."

The voice sliced through the haze, sharp as glass.

I turned to see Ms. Vale, my Literature and Arts teacher — dressed in all black silk and precision, her fountain pen poised between her fingers like she could skewer someone with it.

"Yes, Ms. Vale," I said, stepping back from Lucien’s heat.

"Your presence is required in the art room," she said, tone clipped. Her gaze flicked to him, unreadable, as she pursed her lips...like she was holding something back.

I started to follow, but Lucien’s hand caught mine, pulling me back hard enough that I stumbled into his chest. And then his mouth was on mine again — reckless, unapologetic, right there under Ms. Vale’s perfectly arched brows and scrutiny.

When he finally let me go, his lips brushed my ear.

"I’ll be waiting."