Cupid's Curse ━━ Elite.

𝑰𝑰. Flower Boy.

    Loretta smiles and nods, "Loretta or just Lorie is fine," Swivelling around, the curly-haired boy takes notice of the towering girl waiting quite impatiently. "And that's Rebeka —"

    "— Con K." Rebeka salutes. 

    "Ander," He shakes the slightly shorter (but still tall) girl's hand. "It's a pleasure meeting you both. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to help. In fact, I believe you have an assigned tour with my brother pretty soon. Other than that, I hope you enjoy your time here."

There's a certain warmth and generosity in his smile, a softness that makes Loretta comfortable enough to be in his presence. She waves gently in return to his departure before they are on their separate ways. 

Pretty soon, Loretta and Rebeka find themselves standing in front of the principal's office. Loretta's knuckles rap against the wood as Rebeka leans cooly against the wall. A muffled "Come in" sounds from within the room. Pushing down on the handle, Loretta opens the door to see the back of a curly-haired student's head and a red-headed woman of whom instantly gleams at the arrival of the new students. 

     "Ah, just in time," It seems she'd been referring to her private discussion with the faceless boy seated in front of her as she stands. Inviting the sisters in, she rounds her desk in order to shake their hands. "You must be Rebeka?" Said girl nods, "And Loretta. Principal Azucena — welcome to Las Encinas." 

Loretta. The divine name blares flashily in his head. A name associated with victory, honour, spirit — a name that belonged to the signature lip-stick stained kisses on his pieces of poetry, the drift of the late summer's wind, the kind of warmth that still warms him to the core, even after several weeks.

The Loretta he knows and holds dear to his heart couldn't possibly be one of the two behind him. It's highly unlikely. However the second he hears the shy tone escape the person's lips, slight shock registers on his face as he swivels to face them. 

There's a terrifying moment where Loretta's face washes blank with disarray, much like her brain simply couldn't comprehend the intense similarities between the brunet positioned behind his mother and the tender, flower boy that'd crushed her with his ignorance. 

    "This is Vincent Muñoz," Azucena announces proudly, "He'll be giving you a tour of the school."

Blood drains from her skin whereas his illuminated, guilt-ridden gaze never once lifts from her face. 

She looked different. 

The unruly, electrifying blue stricken strands that weaved through her brown hair, had vanished. His oversized buttoned shirts no longer draped over her ragged denim shorts and halter tops, much like the last he'd seen her. It seems her colourful eyeshadow, had too, been ditched and replaced with a modernly colour. The Loretta that stands shyly before him merely wasn't like the one he'd remembered. 

Loretta could easily say the same about Vincent. 

His neat, rich caramel toned curls isn't as chaotic and free. Overtime, it'd grown — enough to shield the mini, matching blue strand that she'd dyed from sight. In the red, white and navy themed uniform, he appeared as sharp and elegant as ever. Having said that, his choice of accessories hadn't altered. Wristbands, silver toned braces, silver rings, as well as his miniature earring. If anything he resembled that of a typical rich boy. 

       "Do you guys know each other?" Azucena inquires, noticing the prolonging eye contact. 

       Vincent clears his throat, instantly avoiding her stare. "Yeah, um, she's the waitress at La Braseria." Ouch. "The place I was telling you about..."

      "Oh," Azucena hums.

      She purses her lips, "Not, um, not anymore." A false smile fades in as she maintains minimal eye contact, "You wouldn't believe the amount of lousy tippers we encountered." Loretta's whimsical mutter, without a doubt, was directed towards Vincent. He sensed this — in fact they first encounter was partly due to his poorly tips.

It's when his mother grants them a brief introduction and timetable he takes notice of the drawn-down corners of her mouth and fluttering eyes — that, and the fact that she hadn't spared him a glance the entirety of their tour. 

Over the course of the tour, Vincent was able to present the most favoured sections of the school (most of which he figured Loretta would a shine to) yet, he'd only been met with a blank stare from the soundless, brunette. Loretta hadn't uttered a single word for the entire 20 minutes, if not breathing a muffled laugh at her sister's commentary here and there, but that was it. 

Vincent directs them down the main hall, signifying the approaching end to their tour. There was no denying the certain spark and fascination behind his words — a clear indication of his passion for the grand school. 

      "This, here, is where you'll find your lockers —"

      "Vince!" A voice calls. 

Rebeka, Loretta, and Vincent each swivel round to the speaker, to find a group of four. Out of each of them, Loretta seems to only recognise one, the beaming brunet — Ander. The others? Well, just from their hostile glowers, Loretta made a definite decision to steer clear from them. 

A blur of honey hair and honey freckles displayed upon pale skin throws her arms devotedly around the neck of the youngest twin before concealing the sweetness of passion with a longing kiss — giving enough time for Lu, Guzman and Ander to move closer to their friend. 

Loretta's face drops entirely. Never once had he mentioned a girl. 

Her heart clenches. Vincent was never hers — sure, but she couldn't deny that it hurt a little. It hurt and sucked witnessing her unrequited crush express such gentle admiration for another. 

Loretta jumps at the contact of a hand meeting her shoulder. Rebeka's lingering presence had sunk in oblivion, so the moment she meets the girl's knowing gaze she couldn't help but sigh. 

     "C'mon, kid." Rebeka directs them away, with her arm dangling protectively over her sister's shoulder. "He's not worth it." 

Vincent observes the swaying pair as they stroll away. An indistinct look dwells within his bright eyes, as the internal regret starts to simmer. He hadn't expected to ever see Loretta again. Every moment spent with her resembled that of a dream, a euphoric fantasy, of which almost didn't feel real. Other than Ander and Lorie, there wasn't many people he felt comfortable around to truly be himself — they were "best friends" if you will. Yet, it was only due time where he had to face reality — the grounding weight of the blondish girl leaning against his chest was a clear example. At this point, with expectations and assumptions, it's safe to say people were living his life for him. 

     "So..." Rebeka starts. Her teasing smirk causes the downhearted girl to peer cautiously at her. "What? Did you fuck him or something — ?" Loretta whacks her against the chest. "Hey!" Her hands press against her own chest offensively, "Chill... it was just a question." She snorts. 

     "....But you want to, right?"

     "Rebe!"