The Fairest Stars

Chapter One: 'Our toil shall strive to mend'

Ah, her voice. Kael’s legs seemed to have swapped their bones for jelly.

‘Want a drink?’ he asked, offering her the one in his hand, along with a brilliant smile that usually never failed to win him the lady.

Rochelle looked him up and down so quickly that he could have almost missed it had he not been painfully aware of every move she made. He detected a trace of desire in her body language, in the way she was looking at him… but it may have just been wishful thinking.

‘Justin’s gone to get me a drink,’ she remarked, after what seemed like an age to Kael, but in reality was probably only a few mere seconds.

‘Oh.’ He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. It was at this point where it all went wrong. A Kael free of alcohol would have left it at that point, but the few drinks he’d already enjoyed made him confident where he should have been careful. ‘Listen, Rochelle,’ he began, reaching out to touch her hand, and thrilling at the touch. ‘I know you’re with Justin, but I really like you.’ He paused, meeting her eyes in a way that would have sent many a girl into a swoon. ‘I think you might feel the same way too, judging by the way you look at me.’

Unfortunately, Justin arrived just in time to catch the gist of the speech, and bristled indignantly. Before he could speak, however, Rochelle slapped Kael’s hand away.

‘Ugh!’ she growled. ‘Shut up! I do not look at you that way, Kael, and I won’t ever look at you that way either. Get away from me!’

Humiliation and pain shot through Kael like a dart. Judging by the look in Justin’s eyes, he wanted to shoot several darts through Kael, probably non metaphorical ones too.

‘Uh, sorry.’ He wasn’t quite sure what to say. ‘I’ll er, go now.’

He backed off quickly before Justin could use those humungous muscles to injure some parts of him, and headed towards the other side of the room, breathing deeply. Not only was he hurt at the thought that Rochelle was determined to never look at him that way, but the mortification of being ousted by that ridiculous rugby playing moron was enough to make his cheeks redden at the thought. He was Kael, Ladies’ Man! Not Kael, the Rejected.

He looked at the drink in his hand, the liquid swilling round in the cup, and lifted it to his lips, knocking it back and wincing as the bitter taste stung his throat. Eyeing the table full of drinks, he grinned. There was one sure way of making himself feel better: alcohol.

Too many more drinks than he’d like to count later, and Kael was enjoying himself much more. Dancing wildly with a few hot girls (though they weren’t quite as attractive as Rochelle) he sang loudly along to the words of the catchy dance song, alcohol blurring his words together, making the girls giggle and press closer to him. It made him feel good.

Taking another swig of his drink, which appeared to be straight vodka, though he wasn’t precisely sure, he caught sight of Rochelle and Justin, kissing passionately on the small balcony outside his room. He laughed, an idea coming to him, and excused himself from the girls, downing the last of the drink. His alcohol intoxicated mind cheered, telling him what a great idea it was. The best idea ever.

Leaving the room, he made his way out of the corridor, the music growing quieter as he got further away. Quickly climbing a small staircase (thankfully he’d retained his coordination) he followed the various passageways and staircases he knew all too well. As he walked past a trophy cabinet, the large Grecian bust of some Roman emperor caught his eye. Expensive, and highly prized by the head master, it might just add to what he wanted to do. Grinning, he took it from the shelf, clutching the solid base tightly. It was heavier than he expected, but ah well, it would do.