My Turn, Mr. Bully

SOFIA

The music hit me like a slap as I shoved the door open. It was loud—very loud. The kind of loudness that made your chest thump and your thoughts scatter.

The party was even wilder than I imagined.

I tightened my grip on the duffel bag in my hand and froze by the entrance, swallowed by lights, bodies, and music. Everyone here was dancing, screaming, living wildly. I was just… standing.

Of course, I hadn’t been invited. They had a strict no-nerd rule. Erica’s so-called “emergency” was the only reason I was here. Her emergency? She demanded me to bring the expensive jewelry dad bought her—without even thinking of getting me anything. Typical. She probably wanted to show it off to her friends.

I adjusted my glasses nervously and scanned the place. Yes, I was at the right address, even though I already knew that. I just... double-checked for good measure.

A shaky breath left my lips, forming a cloud in the chilly night air behind me. I wasn’t planning to stay long. I’d hand it over, then disappear into the shadows like I always did.

I stepped in fully.

It was worse than I feared. The crowd swallowed me whole. Flashing lights blinded me. Music made it hard to even think. Everyone looked like they belonged—tight dresses, perfect hair, designer perfume.

And then there was me: short, chubby, baggy hoodie, awkward. I might as well have worn a neon sign that said “loser”.

"Move, you turd."

"Ew. Is that the school's ugly duckling?"

"What’s she doing here? Ashton would never invite her."

Their words sliced through me louder than the music. I kept my head down, praying I’d spot Erica and leave.

And then I heard her voice.

“Well, well, look what the wind dragged in.”

I looked up. There she was—flawless as always. Erica. My sister.

Her face was effortlessly beautiful, makeup perfect, smile sharp. Her dress hugged her perfect figure like it had been sewn on her skin. She was magnetic. I was invisible.

Except tonight, I wasn’t.

My lips parted. “I... I brought your—”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, stepping closer. “You’re seriously crashing this party? Are you that desperate to feel among?”

“No—I mean—I'm just—”

“Pathetic.” Her eyes glittered with cruelty. “Absolutely pathetic.”

I tried to step back, to hand over the duffel and leave. But she wasn’t done.

“What have you got there?” she asked, loud enough for heads to turn.

“It’s your—”

“Oh wow. You’ve started stealing now?” Her voice rang with mock surprise. “So this is your thing? Stealing from parties now? Someone call security.”

Gasps. Laughter. Whispers.

My eyes widened. “What? No! You asked me to—”

The slap came out of nowhere. Her palm cracked against my cheek, leaving it burning and red.

“You liar!” she screamed theatrically. “You disgust me.”

Tears welled in my eyes. My voice shook. “Erica, please—”

“Shut up!” she barked, playing it up for the crowd. “Everyone, be careful! This thief might take your phones too!”

The music lowered just slightly, as though the speakers themselves wanted to hear the humiliation. And then the insults began.

“Gross.”

“She looks like she crawled out of a trash can.”

“I didn’t even know she could talk.”

Something cold slapped my chest—a half-eaten slice of pizza. Then came more. French fries. A drink. Popcorn. Someone actually threw popcorn.

Each item hit me like a blow to the chest, not because it hurt, but because the sting in my heart was sharper.

I turned to leave, broken, soaking, eyes blurry.

But she wasn’t done.

Erica yanked off my glasses.

“No!” I cried out, reaching blindly. “Erica, please—I can’t see without them! I need them to get home!”

“Aw. The little nerd’s blind?” she announced to the crowd, loud and delighted. “Guess that’s why she couldn’t read the part where she wasn’t invited!”

The laughter exploded. I felt naked. Powerless.

Then she leaned in close, voice cold and private. “This is what you get for showing Mum and Dad your stupid perfect results. Tutor me? Never.”

I broke. Quietly. Internally. As the music returned to full volume, and the crowd went back to their partying, I stood still—soaked, shaking, and blind.

And then everything went still again.

A hush swept over the room. The kind of hush only one person could command.

Footsteps. Slow. Sure. Cold.

I couldn’t see him, but I felt his presence like ice on my skin. Then, suddenly, he was right in front of us.

Ashton Hall.

The god of Lakeside. The prince of this plastic kingdom. Tall, broad, silver-eyed, and untouchable. His parents owned the school. His smirk alone had its own fan club.

And of course, my crush since forever.

Not that he ever noticed me.

“What’s going on here?” His voice was quiet, but the room bent around it.

Erica immediately switched personas. She gasped sweetly, slipped her arm into his. “Babe, this loser crashed your party and started stealing things. I’m so embarrassed for her.”

My heart dropped.

“No—I didn’t steal anything—”

He looked at me. Or maybe through me.

“I would never invite an ugly nerd like you to my party,” he said coldly. “Why are you even here?”

The first words he ever spoke to me. And they cut deeper than all the food thrown.

I straightened, trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I just... need to clean up first.”

“Whatever. Just get out.” His face didn’t move. His jaw was locked.

I turned and walked fast, blindly feeling my way through the mansion. I didn’t even know where I was going. Without my glasses, every hallway looked like a mirror maze. After several wrong doors, I pushed open another, breathing heavily.

It was quiet.

Dark-themed. Elegant. Minimalistic. Like the opposite of the chaos outside.

I stepped in, dazed and shaking, trailing my fingers along the wall. My skin pressed against a velvet mural when—suddenly—arms wrapped around me from behind.

My whole body tensed.

I didn’t come to this party to end up as someone’s drunk mistake. “Let me go! I’m not— I said stop!”

I fought. Weak punches. Wild swings. But the hands were stronger.

Then I was spun around—face to chest—face to silence.

And I saw him.

Ashton.