Olivia Green: Envy's Child [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2: Animalistic, Braindead Neanderthals

The auditorium consists of two floors of plush velvet, black seating in a circular room; the walls continue up until it forms a glass dome, allowing natural light to shine onto the centre stage where a lonesome microphone stands.

The auditorium seating is divided up into eight sectors: years seven through to thirteen, as well as another section for faculty. Years seven through to ten sit on the bottom floor in their designated area whilst eleven through to thirteen, including the teachers sit on the second level.

I'm in year eleven, sat next to Charlie Mauve and his testosterone filled team members who all play soggy biscuit in their spare time. They're a pack of wild, hellish fiends, creating unnecessary racket to fuel the loudness in this echoey room. I feel a headache forming between my eyes as I raise my chin and glare at everyone surrounding me.

Morons.

I can't think of anyone I actually like right now. There's a difference between liking someone and tolerating them. Sure, I may like the attention I get from a person, however that doesn't mean I don't tolerate their actual company. Everyone is flawed and having to deal with their true selves is tiring; people should learn to toughen the fuck up, and shut the fuck up.

"Hey, want to come over to my dorm tonight? You can sneak in through the window," he smirks and cocks a brow.

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of climbing through a window; how unfashionable. "No thanks, you can come to mine if you're that desperate."

He blinks in surprise before nodding, "Yeah, sure. Sometimes I forget you're royalty too."

Royal students, children of the Original demons, do have small privileges. Such as having a dorm room to themselves, as well as an en suite. However the only downside to being a royal is our extra lessons which I like to call, utter heaven. We need to be taught how to act like a royal, what we are expected to do and what our responsibilities entail.

The only plus side is we have one less lesson of physical education, the bane of my existence. Mainly because it's full of sweaty, smelly, hunks of rotting meat rolling around with daddy issues on their backs, hoping that if they do one more gimpy sit up, that all their pathetic problems will vanish along with the eight hundred calorie meal they ate that morning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask incredulously. "I'm literally the only daughter of Envy."

"No wait," he looks alarmed and I can't help but feel annoyed. "That's not what I meant. As in whenever I do this type of stuff, it usually is in my room because everyone I go for isn't royalty."

"'This type of stuff'?" I echo in question. "Now what's this stuff you're implying?"

"Well," he straightens up and relaxes a bit. "If you still let me come by yours tonight, I can show you."

A smooth recovery if you ask me. Infuriatingly slick, you can tell he's done this all before. The pickup lines, the smugness, relaxed attitude and overly rehearsed words; I remember why I got so bored of him. He's like a broken mixtape, repeating the same words over and over and over again to different peers, hoping to have some entertainment for the night to gossip to his fuck buddies- oh, I meant team mates- in order for them to get hyped like the animalistic, braindead Neanderthals they are.

I purse my lips and take a calming breath before forcing a beaming smile onto my lips, "Of course silly, wouldn't want to waste an offer like yours."

He smirks, "No you wouldn't. I can't wait to show you what I'm going to do to you." He places his large hand on my knee and slowly moves it onto my thigh, rubbing the inside part tenderly. I can't help but like the feeling as small tingles shoot further up.

I trap his hand to prevent him from exploring further, "I hope you can save this for tonight."

He grins mischievously, "Why of course, I wouldn't like to spoil the fun." He removes his hand from my thigh and covers my hand with his, taking me off-guard from the seemingly innocent interaction. I don't want people getting the wrong idea between the two of us, we have a no strings attached policy that I'm sure I've reinforced countless times, I'd always hoped I wouldn't have to again.

Slowly slipping my hand out from under his, the warm feeling in my chest also dissipates with it. I consciously fold my arms and tilt my head to the side, pretending to look curiously at the stage as he glances at me questioningly.

A healthy, 5'11 man with a pair of black, bat wings on his back steps onto the stage, waving his hand around the room as if he's a celebrity- which he kind of is. Principal Reynolds was the man with the idea to open Blasphemy High, which if I do say so myself was an excellent idea. Yes, it's still irritating to attend, however it does teach valuable lessons for young students and in the grande scheme of things, will benefit hell.

He is a brunette with a receding hairline, middle aged with a superiority complex that grates my nerves. Being a vanity demon, it makes sense that he takes pride in doing his job, however that comes with an egotistical attitude and a habit for showing off. His tailored, high end, dark purple three piece suit looks dashing underneath the sunlight, paired with a smart shirt and tie both in black; his pricey, shining shoes are midnight.

His shoe collection is nearly as impressive as mine, I do appreciate a man who at least knows how to be well dressed. He often sports different pairs of shoes everyday, sometimes switching them at lunchtime so he can grace everyone with his new pair from Armani, Gucci or Louboutin. I'm pretty sure he has an entire room in his penthouse dedicated to his shoes.

"Good morning Blasphemy High students! How are we all doing?" His voice booms in the microphone, polished and pronounced like most of the more sophisticated demons are.

The entire auditorium erupts in cheers and claps, mainly from downstairs; I can't help but feel deafened in my right ear as the cavemen erupt in yells and hooting. Holy heaven.

"Now I know that some of you are new and I'd like to personally greet the new students," he faces the year seven students and puts on his charming, rehearsed smile. "It's amazing to have you join us. I trust this is a bit different from Blasphemy Primary, however I'm sure your fellow demon peers will welcome you warmly since they know what it's like to be in your shoes right now.

"I have an announcement, we have decided to add a new lesson to our curriculum which will benefit you guys greatly. It is called 'human sciences'. I had a meeting with the kings and queens over the holidays and we decided it would be in everyone's best interest to understand the humans better if we studied their behaviours.

"With this comes a new faculty member, I'd like everyone to show a warm welcome to Mrs Bronson, she's took it upon herself to research and come up with the appropriate curriculum for this new and exciting subject."

A short, curvy woman stands up in the faculty section, her light brown hair is pulled back into a pony tail with a pair of brown glasses adorning her oval and friendly, blue face. She appears cheerful and actually excited as she nervously folds her hands in front of her; she's wearing a pair of grey trousers, a white top and a navy blazer. A lust demon. Once the applaud dies down does she sits down and blends back into the teachers.

"Right, so of course you guys have your lessons. I trust everyone has gotten their timetables just fine, however if there's been any complications you'll all be able to get it from the reception. Thank you for your time, I'm looking forward for your education." With that Reynold's leaves the stage, indicating for the students to exit as well.

Hastily, I slip out of the auditorium and away from the football team. Never will I ever sit with them again.