Prince and the Pauper

Prologue

My feet raced along the pavement of the sidewalk as I ran to catch up with my brother, Geordie. Ten years old and he had the speed of an Olympian, whilst I had the speed of, well, I simply didn't have speed . Strangers scowled at us as we brushed past them in a hurry as my legs tried to catch up, but Geordie had a good gap between us.
"Remind me again why we're running?" I shouted at him. I could hear his giddy laughter as he raised his hands in the air.
"Because competition makes everything more exciting!" Geordie laughed giddily, gloating about his winning stretch as he zig-zagged around the street lamps, proving he was finding this too easy. I huffed in playful anger and ignored the rude remark an elderly woman  gave me as I raced past. Not my fault my legs still move a decent pace.
"Aaaand, Geordie Abel takes first place!" He shouted at nobody in particular, yet gaining the attention of everybody around. "And in second place, but in this case also known as last place, the one, the only, the pitifully slow, Devonne Abel!"
I laughed as I slowed to a stop next to Geordie as he stuck his hand up in my face, pretending to hold a microphone. "Tell me, Miss Abel," he said in a fake posh accent, "How does it feel to come in the last place to your younger, and dare I say, attractive brother? That was quite an impressive gap he had on you."
"Yes, it was. Almost as big of a gap as the one in his head where his brain should be." I sneered, plastering a fake grin on my face. Geordie swatted my arm and laughed, shaking his head. I knew he would never admit he was impressed with my comeback, but when Geordie is silent, you can take that as his confession.
"Now," Geordie smiled up at me with his sparkling brown  eyes, "Let's get the what we came here for." We headed into the small grocery store on the corner of the run down street. Grover Place wasn't the most glamorous street. Hell, it was rather run down. Every shop sign had letters missing, and graffiti littered the walls and windows. Still, it had what he needed, and more importantly, what we could afford. A bell tinkled over the door as we walked in and the clerk's eyes darted towards us from the till, assessing us before returning his gaze to an old, black and white TV hanging in the corner. Clearly, a young boy with short brown hair and matching eyes, along with a plain girl with long, wild brunette hair wasn't anything to worry about. Couldn't blame the guy. This was the most corrupted part of town. Everybody around here meant we all shared one thing in common. Money was tight. This also meaning theft and crime were high, so every shop owner was cautious. It wouldn't be a day in Ruddington without at least two or three shoplifting attempts.
"It has to be nice," Geordie explained. "Not just any Valentine's day card. One that will stand out amongst the many Nicole is sure to receive."
"The many, huh?" I asked. "So this Nicole is like the Kim Kardashian of Ruddington Primary?" I teased.
"Better," Geordie grinned. "She has curly ginger hair, and these bright blue eyes, and-"
"Oh, so she's a ginger! Maybe get her sunscreen too-"
"Devonne!" Geordie snapped. "Don't be rude. She's pretty, okay? I happen to like red-heads." He mumbled softly. I shrugged my shoulders in apology. Agree to disagree. Our mother had been a red-head, and she could barely stick around months after Geordie was born. Leaving us with dad, only to leave us too nine years later, claiming he was just going for a walk, never to return. He could have walked off a cliff for all I cared.
"Alright, I'm sorry. If you really want to impress her, why don't you make the card?" I suggested, which Geordie clearly didn't agree with. He let out a short snort in reply.
"That's what morons do. Real men aren't as cheesy as that." Geordie grinned.
"Real men? You're ten. You still have me tuck you into bed at night." I scoffed. Geordie turned and glared at me, raising his hand to point his bony finger at me.
"I do not! I may have you check under the bed for monsters, but that's simply so if there is something there, they get you first, giving me a chance to run off. You're simply my sacrifice." Arms folded over his chest, Geordie smirked up at me, proud of his 'tough boy' act. I let out a  small laugh and ruffled his hair knowing it would provoke him.
"Oh yes, you're all man. With those toothpick legs and duck curls." My arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him towards me putting him in a headlock, and messed up his hair. Geordie let out a groan and wrestled around in my grip.
"What was that? I couldn't understand your oh-so-deep, manly voice."
"Dev!" Geordie was now laughing hysterically, and the shop clerk tutted at our behavior. Through the sound of our laughing I only just heard the sound of the bell above the door chiming, signaling a new customer had entered the shop.
"Everybody down on the ground!" A deep voice boomed, causing me to yelp in fright, my hold on my brother instantly loosening. Instinctively I pushed Geordie behind me when my eyes landed on the gun in a man's hand. I scanned the shop and saw there were three of them, all in black, balaclavas hiding their identities. Geordie gripped the material of my shirt in his hands, horror written all over his pale face.
"Dev, what's going on?" he whispered. Before I could respond the same man who had spoken first yelled again.
"I said on the ground! NOW!"

Instantly the two of us dropped to the floor, and a second man jumped over the counter where the shop clerk stood shaking in the corner, his hands in the air in surrender.
"J-just take the money, nobody has to be hurt." His voice shook.
"What a great idea, Einstein!" His voice hissed. Geordie let out a frightened whimpering noise, and I silently hushed him. "Your scum  don't deserve it anyway! Everybody in this town is filth. You have no money and those who do spend it on alcohol! You're a disgrace!"
My blood boiled with his words, and I could feel my hands curling into fists. The way the man spoke made it pretty clear he wasn't from these parts of town. They were obviously uptown boys living the life of luxury, yet as always, they wanted more.
"Devonne," Geordie whispered beside me. "Look at the guy holding the gun. The necklace he's wearing." My eyes followed up the robber's frame landing on the silver chain hanging around his neck. A large letter 'S' was the simple charm, with a single small diamond on the very top of the S. My eyes widened slightly. Only one family had that necklace. It was specially made for one family. Every member of the wealthiest family in town had one. The Styles. My eyes looked up to his face and stormy, blue eyes pierced into mine. Blue eyes. Remember that. I didn't know all about the Styles family, the names as such, but I knew that there was a well-known fact that only one member of the family had blue eyes. The Styles was a well-respected family, well known and well liked, and all green eyed. The fact that one son had blue eyes compared to the rest of the family sent out speculation that he wasn't a legitimate Styles. The mother supposedly had an affair. Ruddington had always referred to him as the 'bastard son.' My brother speaking up cut off my train of thought.
"He belongs to the Styles family."
The moment the words left Geordie's mouth, the man's eyes flickered to us.
Oh no.
"What did you say, kid?" His voice venomous.
"N-nothing!" Geordie gasped in fright.
"Aw, don't go shy now kid. Repeat what you said."
"He said he likes your style." I  blurted out quickly, capturing his attention. "Your shoes." I mentally face palmed at my excuse, but now I had started I had to keep going. He was not going to hurt my brother. Not some rich-arsed kid. Not a Styles. "Nike's right?"  I was mentally preparing for a gunshot. For some rude remark. But instead, he let out a long, amused laugh. Not sarcastic. He was genuinely amused for some reason. I squeezed Geordie's hand and made a silent prayer.
"What would you Ruddington scum know about brands?" He cackled. "That's golden! What's your name, hmm babe?" he laughed. "Dev I thought I heard."
"Devonne," I spoke clearly, refusing to let him think he could belittle me because of his wealth.
"Well, Devonne, I like you. Which is rare considering you're a mud-rud. But your brother?" he tutted. "He has a big mouth. And a big mouth can get you in a lot of trouble."
"No, don't." I blurted. "He won't say anything. He's ten. Who would believe a ten-year-old mud-rud? Especially against a Styles." Again the blue eyes brat laughed. "True, he is filth. But my last name means nothing. I never had a chance. My mother ruined that the minute she opened her legs to another man."
"So the rumors are true then? You are the Styles bastard."  I knew I was treading on thin ice here, but so was my brother. My plan was anger him enough that I would become the center of his anger, not Geordie. "The eldest one is the favored child huh? What's his name again? Henry?"
"Harry." The boy hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Right. Harry is the good child. The true blooded Styles off-spring. Whilst you are...well, you're just a half-cast. Who did she sleep with then? Another upper-class guy?" Geordie tugged at my hand to silence me, but I couldn't stop now. I had to deflect.
"No wait, since the Styles is as high as you could go, she must have down-graded. Stooped lower, pardon the rude pun. But how low did she go?  You seem to hate Ruddington. Perhaps that's why. You're a half-cast Rud too. Half uptown , half downtown, that leaves you as one messed up concoction."
"You think you're smart don't you?" Golden boy sneered. He yanked me up by my collar and pulled me to my feet.
"Only compared to some."
Silence.
I swear I  could have heard a pin drop in the room. All eyes were on me. My eyes on the Styles wannabe before me.
"Bring me the bat!"
My blood ran cold as another man ran in. My eyes landed on the baseball bat in his hands. Everything seemed to slow down as the bat was handed to the Styles boy, and Geordie let out a scream as the third guy from earlier yanked him to his feet. 
"NO! I screamed, jumping in front of my brother, only to be pulled away, my arms yanked behind my back by the blue eyed brat. I screamed and cussed, thrashing in his hold, but he was too strong. He probably worked in the gym frequently. He had the build. Weights of Gold I would guess. Tears sprung to my eyes as the bat was raised. Geordie's eyes flickered to mine, his wide and frightened.
No. Please no.

Blue eyed boy handed me off to the second boy and walked forward.
The bat was raised.
My screams filled the air.
Geordie, my little brother, all that I had left, fell to the ground.