MALEVOLENT/H.S

two.

"Even though she has survived this far, my selfish tendencies have ruined her innocence."

Standing in front of my full-length mirror in my knee length, tight pink dress, I smooth my hair behind my ears, placing it in the claw clip. I decided to entertain my mom's little celebration tonight. Even though this is not what I had in mind for my last night in town, I think I deserve a drink, or two. I mean, what the hell, it's not everyday you make it into NYU's apprenticeship program as a junior.

"Bianca, hurry up! People will be here any minute now!" My mom's voice calls from down the stairs.

"Five minutes and I'll be down," I yell back, stamping over to my vanity to apply a few swipes of clear lipgloss. I strap on my nude heels and walk towards my bedroom door. As I reach for the knob, the door swings open.

"Damn it, Lilliana," I breathe "what is with you people and not knocking on closed doors?"

"Chill, I just need to borrow your lipstick. I left the house without mine," she explains.

"It's in the drawer, second to the bottom," I say, nodding my head in the direction of my vanity.

"Thanks B," she smiles, striding over to the drawer.

"I'll meet you downstairs," I announce, walking down the stairs to the living room.

The living room is still empty and I take in the serenity before this night of chaos that is bound to happen. Especially when you mix people in this town and alcohol.

"Honey, you could have curled your hair for this like Lilliana," she whines, motioning to my sister coming down the stairs, "It looks so much classier for things like these."

"You know what mom?" I start but quickly stop myself.

"What?" she snaps with her own Maryanne Rossi style attitude.

"Never mind," I growl, pushing past her and into the kitchen. I angrily place a glass on the counter, filling it with vodka and cranberry. I take a sip and roll my neck around, hearing it crack in two places. Tonight was going to be a long one.

...

An hour had gone by, I was four drinks in, and my body was feeling warm and buzzing. I felt good. I was sat on the couch listening to some old guy tell me about how important it was for me to "procreate." He also thinks the working should be left to the men and if I wasn't so drunk right now I would punch him straight in the nose.

There was a sudden knock on the door that perks me up.

"I'll get it!" I call across the room to my mother and she nods, sipping her red wine.

I stumble my way over to the door, pulling my dress down so I don't show everyone everything I've got. I swing the door open, only to be met with a nauseating sight.

"Miles," I grit, looking away from him quickly.

"Well, hello there, lovely. I've missed you," He marvels, with that signature, sickening grin plastered across his ignorant face.

"Go to hell. You're not welcome here," I snap as I attempt to slam the door in his face. He catches it with his large hand, holding it open.

"Actually, love bug, your mom invited me. So, that makes me welcome," he smirks, snaking past me into my house. "Where are the drinks? The party has arrived!" he announces loudly as he enters the living room.

"Miles, dear, I'm so glad you could make it! Drinks are in the kitchen, help yourself," my mother's painted lips grow into a smile at the sight of Mile's treacherous existence. I can't believe how dense the people in this town are. How can they not see the cunning snake I see. He's a jack of all trades but not in the good way. I shake my head as I make my way to the backyard by our pool. My mom winks at me on my way out and my face falls flat.

"Hey little sister," I hear Lilliana's voice chime as I slam the door.

"Fuck! I hate that cocky bastard," I growl, running my hands through my now messy hair, striding with a feverous manner.

"Woah, calm down" she hushes me "what are you talking about?"

"Miles Morgan." I cut, rolling my eyes. I might be overreacting and the alcohol running through my veins was not helping my case.

"Bianca, you're still going on about him?" she whines, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head.

"Lilliana, you don't understand, there's something, off , about him. I can feel it," I say seriously.

"Bianca, seriously, you're drunk right now and you need to just inside and go to bed, alright," she says grabbing me by the arm and trying to pull me back in the house.

"Stop. I refuse to breathe the same air as him, Lilli," I shake my head desperately.

"You're being ridiculous," she breathes, struggling to hold me.

"Ladies, what seems to be the problem here?" I hear Miles's voice cut through my own struggling.

"She's drunk and I'm trying to get her to bed but, obviously, she's fighting me," my sister complains but I keep trying to break free from her hold.

"Oh come on, Bianca, can't we just use this night to celebrate?" Miles says with a condescending smile.

"I will not be celebrating with you," I hiccup, the alcohol now coursing through my veins even more.

"Why not? After all, this is kind of a celebration for me as well," he winks at me, my arm still caught in my sister's grip.

"What are you talking about?" I choke, rolling my eyes at him.

"Haven't you heard sweet pea? I got into NYU," he grins over his glass, throwing his fist in the air while taking a long drink.

I begin to writhe in my sister's arms trying to get away. The one place I can get away from this town is going to be diseased with the one person I despise most. As I try my best to get away, Miles casually sits his glass on the table and walks towards me. He quickly grabs my wrist, turns me around, and presses a spot on my shoulder. Suddenly, everything goes black.

...

My eyes flutter open to be met with a soft light coming through the window. My ceiling fan turning around slowly on my ceiling, now meeting my view. The last thing I remember is being outside with my sister and Miles. 

That bastard knocked me out. How the hell does he even know how to do that and why would my sister let him? To top that off he's coming to torture me at NYU. My happy place. 

Holy shit, NYU!

I jump up out of bed and try to find my phone. To my surprise, it's right on my bedside table.

The time reads seven-fifteen in the morning and my flight leaves at twelve. It's game time, bitches.

Hello, giving this update fore more starting context! Will start updating once a week!