The Crowned Nobody: a Brand New Bitch

Aria’s POV

The night before graduation should have felt like freedom, yet it reeked of everything I despised.

The party glowed with neon lights, the laughter and music so loud it made the floor tremble.

I stood in the corner, clutching my cup like a lifeline, watching Maya—my so-called best friend—spin in circles with the others.

Her shrieks of laughter stabbed at me. That bitch was having the time of her life.

She had dragged me here, insisting “It’s tradition, Aria. We can’t miss this.”

Tradition my ass.

Every drunken giggle, every cheer, every clink of bottles reminded me of the years I’d endured in that hellhole of a school.

Years of whispers about my mom being a single mother. Years of being shoved in hallways, called names, treated like a stain no one wanted near their perfect uniforms. Tonight was supposed to be a countdown to escape. Tomorrow, high school would finally spit me out.

I forced a breath and looked up, only to find Maya wobbling toward me, her hair wild from dancing. She collapsed into the chair beside mine, cheeks flushed.

“See?” she beamed, breathlessly. “I told you this would be fun.”

I gave her nothing but a cold glance, my lips pressed thin. She pouted, but I stood, brushing past her without a word.

The ladies’ room was dim, the thud of bass still rattling the mirror above the sink. I barely had time to breathe before I collided with her.

Lena.

The queen bee. The nightmare in human skin. Flanked by her two shadows, Mary and Jane. she smirked as if the devil himself had whispered a new way to torture me.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the charity case,” Lena sneered, eyes running over me like filth. “Did your mommy stitch that dress herself? Looks like a trash bag with glitter.”

Her shadows cackled. I clenched my fists from my side . I wanted to spit back, but Lena stepped closer, her perfume choking the air.

“Aw, look at you. Almost done with high school and still pathetic.” Her hand struck me before I saw it coming, a stinging slap that burned across my cheek as thier laughter followed them out the door.

I stared at myself in the mirror, my reflection trembling with rage.

My skin flamed, my eyes glistened—not with tears, but fury. Something inside me snapped. Lena that fucking bitch...

I stormed back to the hall, where Maya’s smile faded at the sight of me. Her lips parted in shock as I snatched the drink from her hand.

“Aria—”

Too late. The liquid burned down my throat, again and again, until the room blurred and my body swayed. The bass pounded louder. The lights spun faster. For once, I didn’t care. For once, I wanted the fire inside me to drown.

Maya’s voice shook me. “What the hell happened girl!?...and what are you doing?"

I lifted my chin, wiped my mouth, and laughed bitterly.

“Enjoying the party.”

Maya’s hand squeezed mine for a second to comfort me before she slipped away. A tall guy I’d never seen before leaned close to her, murmuring something that made her blush crimson. He offered her a drink, and before I knew it, they were gone—Maya was now waving at me over her shoulder with that half-worried, half-excited look.

And just like that, she left me.

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head with my drink in hand. Seriously, so much for “Aria, I promise you won't be alone.” and this is it.

She’d finally found her comfort, and I… was still stuck in mine.

I lifted another cup, then another. No one stopped me. No one even looked at me. Not even the geeky boys who usually stared at everyone with desperate eyes. I was invisible. I had always been.

By the time I pushed myself off the chair, the room was spinning. My body felt like it had betrayed me, moving in slow motion, while my head buzzed with rage and alcohol. I wanted out. I just wanted to breathe.

I staggered toward the exit, vision tunneling through the glowing lights and reeking perfume of my classmates. I successfully walked out the main hall heading towards the heavy double doors that blurred in front of me, freedom just a few steps away—

But just then, I collided with something hard.

Not something. Someone.

I stumbled back, slurring a curse under my breath before my eyes dragged upward.

He was tall. Brooding. A little too good-looking for someone reeking of whiskey. His shirt hung open at the chest, tie loose, hair disheveled as though he’d been in a fight or a darker kind of game upstairs. His eyes—stormy and sharp even through his drunken haze—locked onto me with a heat that made my skin prickle. God. why do I even care.

“Watch it,” he drawled, voice deep and gravelly.

I blinked at him, rage rising. “Jerk.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

His lips curved, slow and dangerous.

“Feisty. Didn’t think girls like you knew how to bite.”

I squared my shoulders, ignoring the dizziness threatening to drag me to the floor. “And what exactly do you know about girls like me?”

He leaned closer, so close I could smell the sharp tang of alcohol and something darker beneath it. “Enough to tell you’re drunk out of your pretty little mind.”

I felt heat climb my neck—anger, humiliation, maybe both. “And you’re not?” I whispered.

His chuckle was low and wicked. “Touché.”

The world kept spinning like a carousel, and before I could push past him, his body blocked mine again—towering, drunk, and infuriatingly smug.

“Move,” I snapped, though the word came out slurred.

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing at me like I was some puzzle he hadn’t decided whether to play with or break apart. “You’ve got some bite for a girl who looks like she’d rather be buried in books.”

My jaw clenched. “Better books than being a wasted nobody.”

His laugh was low, sharp, dripping with mockery. “Cute. Nerd girl thinks she can sting.” He said as he leaned closer, his voice brushing against my ear. “Bet you’ve never even been kissed properly.”

I instantly became tensed, rage and humiliation colliding.

But he's wrong because I never even got the chance to...“You don’t know me.” I said with teary eyes.

He then watched me with a close gaze, daring. “You’re right. I don’t. But I can read you, sweetheart. Those glasses, that shy little posture—you’re the kind that hides in the back of class and secretly wonders what it’s like to be wanted.”

My hand suddenly curled into a fist. “Go to hell.” I said, pushing him away with all my might but it was of no effect.

“Already there baby,” he muttered, with his lips twitching into a dangerous smirk. “You coming with?”

Before I could answer, his hand brushed my waist—not gentle, but firm, deliberate. He didn’t wait for permission, didn’t soften his edge. He just guided me, drunk and stumbling, toward the staircase.

“Where are you—?” I started, but he cut me off with a mocking glance.

“Relax, girl. You’ve been invisible all night. Nobody’s gonna miss you.”

The words stabbed, cruel but true. My chest tightened, yet my legs kept moving, following him as if the alcohol had chained me to his pull. Maybe it was madness. Maybe it was desire, or just years of swallowing my voice until it finally screamed for release.

Up the narrow stairs, down a dark corridor that reeked of smoke, then he shoved a door open with his shoulder and pulled me in.

The music dulled instantly, replaced by the pounding of by pulse. It was a small upstairs room, dimly lit , reeking faintly of alcohol and smoke. He shut the door behind us with a thud.

My back hit the wall before I could think, but his hand was flat against it near my head, and his body close enough that the heat of him suffocated the air.

"Still think am a jerk?" he murmured.

"More like an asshole" I shut back, though my voice betrayed me.

I watched how creepy his lips curved, Inches from mine. "Good. Then we understand each other."