š—£š—„š—¢š—  š—¤š—Øš—˜š—˜š—”, š™…. š™ˆš™–...

By chanelswhore

90.1K 3.1K 870

šˆš š–š‡šˆš‚š‡ a kook princess pisses her parents off, resulting in her bank accounts getting frozen in or... More

šš‘šŽšŒ šš”š„š„š.
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ¬ prologue
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ­ destructive impulses
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ® dressed up heartbreak
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸÆ never the one
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ° just a boy
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ± carried by the current
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ³ party like a pogue
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ“ with you, time feels frozen
šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸµ swallow your fucking pride
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ¬ stuntin' what my momma gave me
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ­ golden tears
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ® the stars feel like home
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸÆ cherry blossom scented bodies
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ° moral of the story
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ± home is a wasteland
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ² longing for you
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ³ does she feel like home to you?
šŸ¬šŸ­šŸ“ 1 heart broke, 4 hands bloody

šŸ¬šŸ¬šŸ² chronicles of a rich bitch

3.7K 164 37
By chanelswhore

PROM QUEEN:
CHRONICLES OF A RICH BITCH.















BEAMING RAYS OF SUNSHINE soaked through the thin, white curtains that hung above the balcony doors of the suite that following morning. Through the creaks of the windows, the soothing sound of the ocean waves crashing against one another pierced through Annabelle's ears, her head comfortably rested against the cotton materiel of what felt like a black hoodie. She could briefly hear the sound of the gulls screeching across the blue, morning sky, a small reminder that summer was getting closer and closer. Entrapped in a semiconscious state, she moved her body around slightly, eyes going wide when she felt fingers glide through her straight hair.

Immediately, she shoots awake. At the sound of a groan erupting from the person beside her, she's thrown into a wave of panic, forcing her to remove her arm from around them. With her breath caught in her throat, she balls her hands up into fists, using them to rub the tiredness away from her chocolate-colored eyes before gathering up enough courage to take a peek at whoever the hell was asleep beside her.

When Annabelle spots the familiar face, a sigh of relief emits from her lips, and a confused look quickly takes over.

Reaching for the pillow by her side, she raises it up into the air before slamming it down against Xavier's face. She does that a couple more times, even when the brown-eyed boy is fully conscious, annoyed at the fact that he'd been torn from his slumber.

Being much stronger than Annabelle, the Danvers boy easily managed to snatch the pillow from her possession, holding it away from her reach.

"What the hell, Xavier! I was ready to shout bloody murder!" Annabelle sneered, not caring about anyone else who may have been sleeping in the suite. Right now, her heart was on the verge of lurching from her chest and she only had one person to blame for that...Xavier freaking Danvers.

Blinking slowly to try and block out the sound of Annabelle shouting at him, Xavier pressed his fingers against his temples, rubbing them in a circular motion to ease the headache that was slowly beginning to emerge from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed the previous night. Most of it was a blur to him, but he did remember walking into a room and passing out beside Annabelle, who had already been fast asleep after getting back from her brief getaway with JJ Maybank.

Gathering up her hair, Annabelle used the hair tie on her wrist to put it up into a bun. She pulled a couple of strands from it out, a thin brow shooting upwards at the noticeable smirk that rested on Xavier's lips as he stared at her.

"A blowjob in the morning? What have I done to deserve this?" Xavier cockily questioned, standing to his full height.

Annabelle scoffed at his comment, a short laugh falling from her throat. "There's lotion in the bathroom, why don't you help yourself out." She rolled her eyes, pulling down the spandex shorts she'd changed into last night, which had hiked up while she was fast asleep.

"We didn't fuck, if that's what you're mad about." He assured her, running a hand through his curls to get them away from his forehead.

"Aren't you just great with words?" Sarcasm trailed in her words as she briefly glanced towards the alarm clock on the nightstand, a heavy sigh leaving her lips when she realized that she had about twenty minutes until she had to get home to try on stupid dresses for the stupid charity event that was taking place at her stupid home.

"I like to think that I am." Xavier grinned widely, peeling the black hoodie off of his body due to the stench of beer that lingered from it. His hangover was already kicking in, and if that heavy stench was left to travel up his nostrils for any longer, he'd puke.

Ignoring him, Annabelle walked towards the bathroom connected to the room. Flipping the light switch upward, she gasped in horror at the eye bags that were lying below her brown orbs. Grazing her fingers against the dark markings, she quietly whimpered under her breath. She was seriously praying that concealer would cover these up because god forbid her minor imperfections getting captured by the blinding flash of the camera.

"Your parents have that thing going on tonight, right?" Xavier questioned, his eyes roaming around the room as he searched for his missing phone.

Annabelle reached for one of the many toothbrushes that were packaged. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, stupidly nodding her head before realizing he couldn't see her. "Yeah, why?" She inquired, ripping the toothbrush out from its package so that she could run it under water before placing some toothpaste on it.

"My parents are contributing to the cause." He briefly explained, his voice growing less muffled as he stepped into the bathroom, heading towards the other sink to mimic Annabelle's actions.

Through a mouthful of foam from the toothpaste, Annabelle muttered a simple 'oh'. She could give less of a shit about this whole event taking place at her home tonight.

Around two minutes of silence later, a gag erupting from the back of Annabelle's throat ripped through the silence. Spitting into the sink, she cupped her hand, gathering up a good amount of water before gurgling it to get rid of any toothpaste in her mouth.

Ridding her mouth of the mint-infused paste, Annabelle wiped the water from her mouth, jumping in horror when she looked behind her to see Xavier standing there.

"When I die of a heart attack, you're to blame." She pointed a finger at the reflected version of himself in the mirror.

Laughing at how dramatic the Monroe girl was, Xavier gripped the counter, Annabelle's back now pressed up against his chest with his soft lips brushing against the delicate skin on her neck.

"No." Annabelle swiftly turned around, regretting it instantly because it only made this position even more enticing.

"C'mon, we've got a few minutes to kill." He whispered, bringing his hand up towards her face, his thumb drawing circles on her cheek.

Gulping down the lump in her throat, Annabelle let out a shaky breath. She tried to fight it off, reminding herself that Xavier wasn't worth it, but the thought of knowing that this would just be another meaningless hook up was enough to convince her to reach her hand towards the back of his neck to pull him even closer. "God, I hate you." She murmured, her lips brushing against his until she captured them between her own.

。・:*:ˑؘ ۪۪۫۫

ALRIGHT, HERE'S THE THING about the infamous kooks of Figure Eight.

There's no better way to understand them, and their affluent society, other than to physically attend one of their public events which are hosted for the sole purpose of portraying a false reality where they're sketched out as these literal saints who care deeply for whatever cause they're raising money for. Truth? They don't care. They seriously could give less of a shit, and it's unlikely that they ever will because if they truly cared about raising money for those in need, they'd make an anonymous donation to the cause without expecting anything else in return. Now, see, that's the thing. They didn't dare do that because attention was what kept them afloat, ensuring a generous income to add onto the millions of dollars that were already floating around in their bank accounts.

Instead of being subtle when it came to showing their generosity towards important causes, they made sure that there was enough media involvement occurring at whatever event that was being hosted because that guaranteed a positive image. The simplicity of a single photograph of them signing a check with a large quantity of money scribbled into the small, rectangular box was enough to get people to praise them. Pathetic, right?

Yeah, Annabelle had always hated that about charity events.

Well, that, and the whole dressing up part of it all.

Which was why she'd tried to avoid it all, but to her dismay, her mother had already been waiting for her arrival that morning. Now, she was trapped in one of the many rooms inside of the Monroe residence, a loose-fitting dress framing her thin figure.

"Turn around," Sandra's voice broke through Annabelle's thoughts, her finger waving around with a quick motion with her other hand tucked behind the back of her neck, her lips pursed into a thin line.

Annabelle loudly huffed, turning around for what felt like the hundredth time now. This was the tenth dress she'd tried on, and to say she was annoyed with this whole dressing up, was the biggest understatement of the year.

A judgemental look formed on Sandra's face, her head shaking in disapproval. "I don't like it."

"Mom, I have been trying dresses on for the past hour. I haven't had anything to eat, and I'm starving." Annabelle whined, her arms swaying back and forth like a child throwing a tantrum.

Sandra let out a sigh, walking towards the rack of dresses to grab a different one. She didn't care enough to even acknowledge the stylist who wasn't being given the opportunity to do her job. "Don't eat now, you'll bloat and you won't look presentable for the photographs." She muttered, handing her daughter the hideous excuse of a dress.

Annabelle walked past her mother, heading straight towards a dress that had caught her eyes the second she stepped into the large room. "Do you want me to starve?" She raised a questioning brow up, knowing that her smart comment would surely tick off the older woman.

Tossing the dress towards the nearby chair, Sandra rolled her eyes. "Don't get sarcastic with me, Annabelle!" She spat, placing her hands on her hips. "You can wait a few more hours."

"A few hours? This stupid charity event doesn't start for another five hours." Annabelle emphasized, hoping that she could help her mother realize how dumb this whole thing sounded.

"It's not stupid." She argued.

"It is when you're only hosting it to get a cover photo for Forbes magazine."

When Sandra realized that her daughter was speaking the cold truth, she decided to change the subject...to a rather cruel one, instead. "You're putting on weight. You need to stop eating your weight in food." She scowled.

A short laugh left Annabelle's lips. There was so much that she wanted to say, but her mind went completely blank. "Body-shaming? Wow, mom, that's so unlike you." Her voice nearly cracked, signifying that those two sentences had hit home.

Sandra wasn't an idiot—she was a bitch—but she wasn't an idiot. The second she noticed the stiff silence that filled the thick air, plus the stylist looking back at her with a look of disbelief, she cleared her throat. "What happened to your forehead? There's a knot." She changed the subject again, uncomfortable with how tense everyone had become.

Annabelle exhaled, holding down the urge to snap. "I don't know." She shrugged, deciding that the truth wasn't worth telling. "I probably hit myself while I was asleep."

"Well, that wasn't very smart of you."

"Darla, I'll go with the light green one." Annabelle ignored her mother's comment, her chocolate-colored eyes trailing towards the blonde-haired woman who unfortunately had to witness what could've just as easily been another pointless argument.

"The color doesn't suit you-"

Tired of Sandra's unnecessary side comments, Annabelle finally snapped. It was safe to say that if her eyes were guns, her mother would be six feet under right about now. "You want me to request an interview with one of the many journalists that will be attending your little event that you're hosting? Want me to tell them what a shit mom you are? How you're the reason that your youngest daughter is incredibly insecure? How you've trampled over her ever since she was a child?" Her voice rose, not giving the slightest shit about the stylist hearing what she had to say. "I have the ability to burn your foundation to the ground, so stop testing me! I'm sick of all your snarky comments!"

A few seconds passed.

Excruciatingly painful seconds.

"Well, you heard her! She's going with the light green one!" Sandra snapped at the blonde, not taking her eyes off of Annabelle for a single second. She had never actually expected the raven-haired girl to ever talk back, so to say she was shocked was a huge understatement.

Annabelle was the first to turn away from the intense staring contest, a proud smile adorning her lips as she walked alongside the poor woman who had to witness that. "I was thinking tan heels to go with the dress? What do you think?"

。・:*:ˑؘ ۪۪۫۫

     BOREDOM WAS SHOOTING through Annabelle's veins, rapidly creeping towards her mind to help poison her brain with that feeling that would surely cause it to burst into molecule-like fragments at some point throughout this torment of a night. She stood on the platform located on the second floor of the mansion that granted her a perfect view of the entrance and living room, champagne flute in grasp with a red tint from her lipstick smudged on the rim of the glass. Her ears felt like they were repeatedly being stabbed with a sharp object as they took in the sound of the classical music that was being played live by some elegantly dressed man sat at the piano. Classical music should've died with Beethoven and she would never allow herself to walk away from that opinion of hers that she'd formed. The sound of the piano keys being punctured to allow the tune to emit through the spacious room was seriously about to put her to sleep if she had to be here for a second longer.

The worst part of tonight was that she didn't even have any of her girl friends to suffer through this with. The Wilson family hadn't been invited due to the fact that Marianna and Reese Wilson were together again after the infinite fights that they put on display for the entirety of the island to witness. Annabelle recalled her mother saying something about their presence creating a bad image...she couldn't remember the exact words that were used, but god, with the amount of crap that Sandra Monroe talked? Those words had to be cruel, that was a given. Then there was the Atkins family, who were all unable to attend the event considering that they had some important dinner scheduled—Annabelle assumed that it must've been a family-related thing to celebrate their daughters sixteenth time orbiting around the sun. And the Cameron's were here, but so were the Thornton's which meant that Sarah was occupied with Topper elsewhere (how that relationship had even become a thing was still completely astonishing to the Monroe girl, but love tends to be random at times...right?).

The Danvers, Kingston's, and Williams were somewhere around as well, but Annabelle didn't feel like putting up with any male testosterone right now. She could handle a one on one conversation with them separately, but together? Hell to the fucking no. And after having spent her morning making out with a particular curly-haired boy, she planned on avoiding him...just for tonight.

Hell, even the Carrera's were present and that surprised Annabelle. They hardly ever attended events like these—I mean, yes, they were always at Midsummers, but charity events that were only hosted to portray a false reality? Though they technically were kooks, this didn't look like their typical setting, but people do tend to change all the time, so maybe the possibility of them going full kook one of these days was somewhere out there.

But to be honest, the idea of them being at the top of the social hierarchy didn't sit right with Annabelle. Sure Mike and Anna Carrera had worked hard to achieve everything they had, but boy did she hate their daughter. One minute the girl was having the time of her life hanging with the kooks—Annabelle vividly remembered because she'd developed a dysfunctional friendship with Kiara during that period—and the next, she was gone. Just like that, she'd slithered away from the crowd of wealthy teenagers, turning her back on them to go back to her sad little friend group. For the few weeks that were left of freshman year, Annabelle actually tried to talk to the Carrera girl so that she could gather some sort of intel on what had happened, but, of course, it felt as though she was talking to a brick wall.

Truth be told, Annabelle actually liked Kiara Carrera. She was always easy to talk to and whenever Annabelle grew sick of her parents, which was often, the curly-haired girl was always there with open arms because, for some odd reason, they'd confided in one another, in a way that the two girls had never experienced. But because they were hardly actually seen together to actually be considered friends, their friendship breakup wasn't equally as talked about as the one between Kiara and Sarah.

All Annabelle remembered was that feeling in the pit of her stomach when Kiara completely stopped talking to her—it felt like a knife had been plunged directly into her heart.

And everything could've been civil between them had it not been for Genevieve's big mouth. Of course, out of boredom, the Atkins girl decided to turn the entirety of the freshman class against Kiara Carrera, which easily surfaced through the toxic hallways at the academy. After that, pretty much everyone despised the brunette-haired girl.

A redemption arch was set in place for Annabelle to be mature about this situation and prove that she wasn't some stone-cold bitch, but with that constant pressure to be a typical kook, she did the exact opposite.

She treated Kiara like the pogue that she claimed herself to be, thus creating a hateful relationship between the two girls.

Snap.

Gasping at her sudden loss of balance, Annabelle released the glass from her hand, grabbing onto the metal railing before she could tumble to the ground.

Realization was quick to hit her, a whimper leaving her mouth.

"Shit!"

Disregarding the loudness of whoever the hell had just said that, Annabelle groaned, holding down the back of her pastel green dress so that she could crouch down to the ground to collect the ebony-colored heel, which had, in fact, snapped. "Stupid Saint Laurent." She muttered under her breath, evident frustration lingering in her tone.

Her moment of sadness, however, vanished in an instant when she realized that her champagne was no longer in her possession, and that could only mean one thing.

Momentarily squeezing her eyes shut, a lack of courage present in her actions, she peered over the wooden railing to get a good look at the person she'd almost sent glass shards into. When she spotted the familiar busboy, her eyes nearly rolled towards the depths of her brain. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" She called out, gathering the boy's attention, whose heart was rapidly beating in its cage due to the fact that the glass flute had shattered just a foot away from him. Had he taken another step forward, the possibility of him being rushed to the hospital would've been high.

"If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was call out my name." JJ pushed aside the fear that had struck him a couple of seconds ago, his gaze traveling towards the Monroe girl who was already looking down at him. This caused a short laugh to tickle at his throat. The irony of him being stood at the bottom and her at the top was just...wow!

"That didn't answer my question." She scrunched her nose, her eyes formed into slits.

He held onto the round serving tray with one of his hands, using the other to gesture towards the uniform that the rest of the servers were wearing. "Uh...working." He nodded his head slightly.

"You're working this event?" Annabelle inquired, a look of confusion sketched on her face.

"No, I just thought I'd dress like a professional waiter for the hell of it." JJ's tone was mocking, a grin engraved on his lips with his eyebrows shot upwards.

Drawing the conclusion that they probably looked like complete idiots talking like this, Annabelle looped the straps of her heels around her fingers, making her way down the stairs. At the sight of her barefoot, she received a few strange looks. She avoided them, but the audacity for people to look at her like that?! Did they know who she was? She could've just as easily thrown a harsh insult at the two women who were clearly saying rude things about her if she wanted to.

She watched from afar as JJ stared at the sharp pieces of glass that were lying on the marble floor. With a simple wave of her hand, she called him over. "Just leave it. That's the maid's job, not yours." Annabelle said the sentence without seeing any sort of problem with it, but the blonde-haired boy could hear every ounce of entitlement that reeked from her words.

JJ blew air out of his cheeks, using his shoe to try and form a pile. "You don't even realize how much of a spoiled brat you sound like right now, do you?" His tone grew cold.

Taken back by his words, Annabelle narrowed her eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"When was the last time you did something on your own? Zero responsibility enforced on others, just you." His voice was low, rough, but low.

Unsure where his sudden change of tone had come from, Annabelle shot him a cold look. If he wanted to attack her, fine! She was only gonna make this a fair fight. "When I decided to get a stupid job at the Island Inn with intolerable, grimy pogues like yourself!" She spat, not caring how low she was about to swoop right now.

"Of course she was right. She's never wrong." He mumbled under his breath, crouching down to retrieve the larger shards of glass.

Stepping closer to him, Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest. Right now, she didn't care if her feet bled from getting slashed with glass. "Who? Who was right?" Her voice was sour, anger fueling her.

"Kie."

She arched her eyebrow at him, shaking her head in disbelief. What the hell had Kiara been saying about her? "Kiara? Screw that bitch!" The name tasted bitter on her tongue, a disgusted look clawing at her features.

"Don't." JJ defended his friend before Annabelle could drag her name through the dirt.

"You three idiots are so fascinated with her looks that you've turned a blind eye to the facts that are staring you right in the face." Annabelle stifled back a laugh, dragging her tongue against the sharp edges of her teeth. "She's a kook. At the end of it all, she actually has a shot at life, unlike you, and John B, because let's admit it, Pope at the very least has the brains to make it in this world—but a boy who can't even come to terms with the clear fact that his father's body is lying around somewhere decomposed, or worse, was already eaten by the creatures in the sea? And a boy who has more experience in trauma than he does in anything school-related? Both of you are screwed." Her words were coated with venom, zero thought going into them and how cruel they actually sounded when said out loud.

JJ swallowed thickly, lips pursed into a thin line. He knew he'd provoked her into a state of anger where her only way out was fighting back, and he took full accountability, which was extremely rare, but shit, did her words hit home. Staring back at her, he couldn't help but wonder if that was something she'd always wanted to say, or if everything had just slithered into that care-free mind of hers just now. Nonetheless, his stomach churned, that reminder of how unworthy he was of achieving goals of his own suddenly engraved in his mind yet again.

Stood there staring back at her, he drew the conclusion that he liked the intoxicated version of Annabelle Monroe better.

This one was just a replica of all the arrogant kooks on figure eight.

"Goodness gracious, Annabelle, why are you walking around barefoot?" Sandra's voice cut through the tension that stood between the two teenagers. Eyes widened in disbelief, she placed a cold hand on her daughter's shoulder, sending shivers traveling down her spine

"My heel snapped." Annabelle didn't dare tear her gaze away from JJ's, a sense of guilt traveling towards her throat. She wanted to discard her stomach of the champagne she'd been drinking just a few minutes ago.

Sandra clenched her jaw, looking directly at the sixteen-year-old boy to direct the following words at him. "Why don't you actually work like you're supposed to, or I'll deduct a good portion of the money that I planned on paying you."

"Mom—" Annabelle's voice was hardly audible, her throat too dry from the lump that rested there.

Ignoring her daughter, Sandra shot JJ an annoyed look. "Why are you still standing here? Go!" She scurried him away, a disgusted look formed on her face as she eyed him like he was some sort of plague-infested rodent that would infect her with some long-term, damaging disease if he stayed in her presence for any longer.

That's all it took for the blonde to walk away from the two Monroe women, sparing the younger one a single glance.

"Lazy. Just like his father." Sandra shook her head in disapproval, downing the small bit of liquid that remained in her cup. "Friend of yours?"

"Hell no."

"Good." She gave her daughter a genuine smile, which was a sight that never failed to surprise Annabelle. "Now, c'mon, go upstairs and get some new heels on, there's someone I want you to meet!"

Once she'd been freed from Sandra's grasp, Annabelle took the time to eye every single face in the room. All those around her appeared perfectly poised, their fake laughter disgorging from their throats while they sipped whatever alcoholic beverage was in their cups to drown the underlying sorrows that would consume them as time passed. Though the melodies of the soft tunes ripped through the air, all Annabelle could make out was the ringing that resonated through her delicate eardrums. The sudden realization had struck, and she was suddenly frozen, unable to move a single muscle.

How her venomous words were already coming back to bite her in the ass? She had no clue.

All she could focus on was the reality that awaited her when she grew older. This. This right here was how the rest of her life would play out.

She'd lost...

For she was a bird meant for the wild, a wooden cage confining her from spreading her wings to soar into the heavenly sky without ever having to look back.













authors note:
I feel like that last line is weirdly worded, but I do hope that it makes sense because it's my favorite thing I've written in this book so far lol. I feel like it perfectly describes Annabelle.

ANYWAYSSSSS

JJ not wanting to believe that Miss Annabelle isn't genuinely as bad as she makes herself out to be, so he initiates a fight to draw her away so that he doesn't fall in love, but homegirl hits him right where it hurts >>>>

Honestly, the one thing I can promise is that your emotions with this book are gonna go 📈 and then 📉 .

Vote and comment! And leave your thoughts, I want to know what you like so far about this story! <3

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