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Scars of Love
Scars of Love
Author: Cilla

Chapter One-The Golden Boy and the Invisible Girl

Author: Cilla
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-04 02:07:24

Natalie's POV

Squeaky sneakers against an unyielding polished wooden floor repeatedly echoed through the university gymnasium. That thrumming beat felt especially potent today; it felt like a rhythm that told me I didn't belong. Every thump of basketball rushed through me and squeezed my grip even tighter on the tired notebook pressed against me like a shield.

Not that anyone noticed me.

No one ever did.

Well, except for that time Jake Lawson decided I was funny to laugh at.

He was always at the center of the maelstrom-certainly, he was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and that hair managed somehow to fall just so, even when sweat-drenched. But hazel eyes gleamed at me under fluorescent lights, and his smile. God, that smile could light an entire room if he wanted it to. And right now, all of Lawson University seemed to orbit around him.

You could tell from the huddled bleachers, not for the game, but for him. Jake Lawson: the golden boy. Every shot he made sent the crowd roaring. Every grin he tossed in their direction received as if it was a blessing. He was everything that I was not; loud, bright, adored, unforgettable.

And me? I stayed stuck to the wall like a shadow, clasping my notebook and hoping I could melt into it.

With his shoulder, Eddie nudged me. He was my best friend, sprawling on the bleachers, green eyes glistening with mischief, curls falling across his forehead in merry disarray. "If arrogance burned calories," he muttered under his breath, "Jake Lawson should have died of starvation ages ago."

I caught a tiny laugh before I could stop it; the sound felt dangerous and too noticeable, like laughter was something I wasn't supposed to have.

On my other side, my brother Ben stood stiff as stone, arms folded, jaw set. Narrowing those blue eyes so much like my father's, on Jake as though glaring hard enough might knock the crown from his head.

"He's just a spoiled show-off," murmured Ben contemptuously. "Don't even look at him, Nat. He's not worth it."

As if I could help it. My gaze betrayed me, flickering back to the court, to the way confidence clung like a second skin to Jake. He didn't see me-not really. To him, I was nothing more than background noise. Natalie Hayes: the girl who never quite fit, whose stepmother never let her forget her inadequacy, who drifted through this world like she was always half a step behind.

Well, of course the game had its closing statement by his team in victory. He jogged toward the court's end, with a towel draped about his shoulders, and a chest glistening with sweat and triumph. The crowd shrieked and drank in every move of his. Then his gaze lazily swept across the sidelines and landed on me.

My stomach dropped, cold and heavy.

"So, Natalie Hayes," Jake began with the voice that carried over laughter and buzz everywhere he went. Loud enough for all to hear, his sharp grin designed to cut said as much. "Didn't think gyms were your natural habitat. Careful, sweetheart-you might trip over the ball if you get too close."

The crowd erupted. Laughter crashed against me like waves, my complexion burning, hot and unbearable. I hugged my notebook tighter and wished the polished floor would just crack open and drag me under.

"Back off, Lawson," Ben snapped, stepping forward like a shield. His voice was ice. "She's not here for you."

Jake arched his eyebrow as he glanced down at Ben, unabashedly exuding arrogance through every inch of him. "Relax, Hayes. I'm just having fun. Don't be so sensitive."

"Funny," Eddie chimed sweetly, his sarcasm sharp as glass, "I thought fun was supposed to be mutual. Guess you missed that memo."

That flap of Jake's smirk stopped for a beat, but he recovered quickly. He looked in the direction of the adoring crowd and marched away like none of this mattered. Like I didn't matter.

But I did. At least enough to be his punchline.

My chest burned. Because the worst part wasn't that he mocked me. The worst part was that his words echoed everything I already believed about myself. Everything Victoria drilled into me every day: invisible. Awkward. Embarrassing.

Ben put a hand on my shoulder. It was a strong touch, an assurance. "Don't listen to him, Nat. Not worth it."

I nodded. But that sting was buried deep, into a place where no words of comfort could reach it.

----

By the time we reached home, the night had fallen heavy over the estate. The Hayes mansion loomed ahead, bathed in silver floodlights, its marble pillars standing tall and unyielding. Carved beauty in stone, cold and unreachable.

Inside, it stank of expensive polish and roses: too perfect, too staged.

And there she was.

Victoria. My stepmother.

She was there in the grand foyer, solid as a stormcloud in that room. Black hair twisted into perfection into a bun; frock tailored to hug into her elegant shape yet molded the body of the one present before me. And those sharp gray eyes would slice straight through me the moment I set foot into the house.

"You look like a mess," she said glumly. Not even a hello. Her eyes ran across the blemished cheeks, scuffed shoes, dirt on my skirt. Her lips curled. "Were you clumsy again, Natalie? Honestly, can't you go a single day without humiliating this family?"

Those words weighed them down as they always did. Stones pressed into my chest. My throat tightened. "I'm sorry," I managed to say.

She arched one brow, unimpressed. "Don't bother apologizing. Just try not to embarrass me further."

She stops and lowers her voice and it becomes something far more dangerous: amusement. "Especially at the Lawson party this weekend."

Blinking, I said, "Mr. Lawson's party?"

Victoria's smile could only be described as all venom. "Don't tell me you haven't heard. The Lawsons are holding one of their private shindigs. Everybody that matters will be there. Jake, his friends, his family--and expect us there." Her eyes took over view over me from head to toe, and I shrank under the tremendous weight of disdain then. "You will attend, of course. Try to look presentable for once. I will not allow people to whisper about me because of you."

Then it knotted, my stomach. A party by the Lawsons. Indeed, I had seen these gilded cages before-rooms flooded with champagne laughter and diamond-studded judgment. Girls like me disappeared, unless someone chose to make me the evening's entertainment.

"I---" my voice drifted off, trembling. "Must I go?"

Gleaming eyes sparkled with unkind amusement. "Yes, Natalie. You must go. And do try not to trip over your own feet in front of the entire elite circle." Her smile was cold as marble. "You've humiliated me enough for one week."

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