CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
( Two Years Ago )
Truth be told, Penelope didn't hear about the Redville School of Arts till she was fourteen. She remembered the day very clearly—her mother was out on a business trip and Canary was sitting on the couch, watching television. Penelope didn't usually sit there since it was something she wasn't allowed to do during her study hours, which, to be honest, were a lot longer than anyone would expect.
"Penelope." Canary smiled. "Come sit with me for a while."
Penelope hesitated. "But it's—I'm supposed to be studying right now."
"You and I both know you don't want to study right now. Even if you go and sit in front of those weird books of yours right now, you ain't gonna pay attention to it." Canary had a point. "Come on, love, I'm not gonna tell your mom. Swear."
Penelope was convinced. She sat next to Canary and saw what she was watching. It was some dance show, with the performers doing some complicated routine that in her opinion only a few people could. There was something about it—something about the expression on their faces and the movements of their dance that seemed so enticing to her. They made it seem so easy and flawless when she knew that it was a skill that must have taken so much of their blood, sweat and tears.
"You know Redville?" Canary asked.
Penelope turned to face her but the older woman's eyes were on the screen, a small smile on her face. "No," she replied. "It's a what? A dance group or something?"
"Um, no, not really." She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "You sing, Penelope, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Redville's a school. For dancers. Singers. Actors. Designers. Painters. They're all so... magnificent, you know. They're spectacular. They practice an art and they balance their studies as well. Many of them drop their art subject to pursue something else, like in studies, because the school's just that good at everything. If you wanna do law, you can do law. If you wanna become an engineer, then go ahead." Penelope didn't miss the enthusiasm in her voice. It was so heavy, so apparent—the excitement as she talked about a school.
It's just a school, though, isn't it? At the end of the day, it's just a school. Penelope sighed. "A school for genius overachieving students, you mean?"
Canary laughed. "Way to put it. But you're right, actually. Everyone there is an overachiever."
The performance on screen came to an end.
"You know what? You should try for it."
"What?"
"I mean, think about it, Penelope! It's a high school for artists. You're a singer. You're on top of all your classes. You're smart and talented, exactly what people need to get in this school. You can do so good if you want to, Penelope."
Penelope shrugged.
On the screen, a trio came up, ready for performance.
"I hadn't even heard of this school up until a few minutes ago, Canary."
"Yeah, but you have now." Canary took her hand. "See, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about what Bella would think, right?" She was right. Penelope was thinking of what her mother would say. "But fuck that, for now, you know? Read about this school. Watch some interview or whatever. It's a good school, Penelope, and your mother won't be mad if you get into this. She'll be mad proud of you. You get me?"
She sighed. "How are you so sure that she'll approve of that school? How'd you know she won't be mad at me for even suggesting this school?"
Canary just shrugged. "I know your mom, love. Even if she gets mad at you for this, I'll handle it. Leave that to you. But for now, you don't know if you want to try for it or not."
That night, Penelope stayed up till three reading about the school. She read about how and when it was founded, read about how many known faces have graduated from the place. She read about it's facilities and wins over the years and saying that she was impressed was an understatement. She hovered over a youtube video. It was an interview with Arlo Liamme, the current chairman of the school.
The interview starts with greetings and jokes exchanged. Penelope didn't want to see or hear all that so she skipped directly to the point. In the video, the interview was rather serious now.
"So, Redville School of Arts is one of the most well known schools at this point of time, isn't it? And it's completely merit based. The competition there is cutthroat. People would die to be there, people would kill to stay there. Do you think it puts a lot of pressure over the child? After, however smart they may be, at the end of the day they're all teenagers, aren't they?"
Arlo Liamme clears his throat. "I agree that Redville is merit based. It values arts and academics both, puts every field on an equal level. Students have the best facility to do what they want in their life, to learn more about their respective fields, to gain more experience. Experience is an important thing, isn't it? And by this, they make a name for themselves early in an industry where people only value reputation and money. Not everyone in this school comes from a rich background, but they're all smart in their own way. The ideals on which the school has been based upon might be harsh, but the students make it through, don't they? Because if you want your own identity, especially in their industry, competition and excellence is something you need to get used to."
"So, you're saying that Redville's merit based system is based upon the ideology that the students who face pressure turn out to be the gems in the industry? Like diamonds?"
"Exactly like diamonds."
"And if the students don't take the pressure in the way you expect them to?"
Arlo Liamme laughed. Penelope was interested in this, she thought that this was something worth getting invested in. Competition always gave her an adrenaline rush. And if the competition was as fierce as she sensed, this was probably the ideal place for her. She loved a challenge, after all.
"Darwin's Theory of Evolution. 1869. Survival of the fittest. A process of natural selection. In this industry, that's just the way it is. If you can't handle the pressure, if you can't live up to the expectations, then you're out. One should know their limits, shouldn't they?"
She watched the entire interview. Then, she read about the people who'd probably be auditioning for Redville in the coming session. She recognised a few of them from television or magazines—Summer Laurent, the child actress and model, Asher Hale, the son of one of top business tycoons of the day, Liri Dyyan, the singer who won some reality show a few years ago, and many others.
Penelope didn't sleep that night.
By the time she woke up next morning, she had her mind made.
She was going to try for Redville.
And she was going to make it.
***
Harley Kingsley
The deductions took place yesterday. The Fashion Walk is in two days. Because of the change in the rankings, the atmosphere amongst the first years is tense. I'm in the lead, of course, but Rhett is now at rank nine and his eyes show how mad he is about all this. Even Iris is keeping her distance from that guy right now which explains how serious the situation is.
"I really don't need a virtual therapy session right now, Zack. Can you please shut the fuck up? The only reason I agreed to talk to you was because I didn't want you to counsel me. God, I fucking hate this—"
He curses under his breath. "Calm. Harley. Calm down. I'm sorry. My fault. Shouldn't have asked that. Just tell me how it's there. Tell me how the students are. Tell me if you're fitting in."
I close my eyes. I can't blame him. He's a certified therapist with a lot of experience. I haven't talked to him in a long time. He sees me as a broken, fragile teenager with unresolved trauma who needs therapy on an urgent basis. I don't need therapy. What I need is for all this to end as soon as possible but I know I can't rush this. One of the first conditions I agreed upon was that I'd get this through without losing my calm. It just gets difficult when every person I'm familiar with treats me like I'm damaged goods.
I don't want people to go easy on me. I want them to try their best to break me. I'm the only one who can break me, after all. I don't falter unless I don't want to.
"I'm okay. Sorry for freaking out on you." I let out a sigh. "It's good here. Cool. I can see why she likes it here." He doesn't correct my statement. I don't bother to fix it either. "It's nice. Competitive. Just the way I like it. The students are okay too. Stupid, yes. Arrogant, yes. Overconfident, also yes. But yeah. It's cool."
"You realise you kind of just described your own self?" Zack snickers.
"I'm not stupid. And I'm not overconfident. Arrogant... Maybe. But rightfully so. It's more like I brag without intending to. I can't help it. It's effortless. It just happens. How's dad?"
The momentary silence answers my question. He's mad. "He's mad at you," he says. "Says you still haven't agreed to coming to the party. I heard Austin called you to convince you."
"He failed."
"Yeah, I know. You know he will have you here, don't you? You get this quality from him. You get what you want. He wants his daughter to be there for a dinner party so that your sister's seat isn't empty."
I hear someone's footsteps. I'm not sure if the person is heading to the terrace or—judging by the way they seem to be tripping—is sober enough to be here anyway. "I'm not her," I remind him. "I'm not her, Zack. I will never be her."
"I know. I know. You won't be her. You aren't her. But do you think your father cares about anything more than his reputation?"
He probably did care about my sister before she ran away. He probably did care about me till all his attention shifted to the better daughter, the more talented and worthy daughter. The one who was supposed to make him proud, the one who disappointed him more than anyone or anything ever had. It happens in just a moment—the memories of that day we took her home from Redville, the day she officially got expelled. One moment I'm there and the other I'm back in the car, the familiar scent of her perfume somehow reaching me once again.
***
A few months ago
She'd heard it all on the way.
The way she was such a disappointment, the way she had ruined her family's public image, the way she was giving everyone including the school such trouble to cover up the havoc she made and the way she wasn't the same person she had been.
Whispers. There were whispers all around her. She could feel the world's eyes on her, hear their foul words all meant for her. She didn't know if it was real or not because after everything that had happened in the past week, she wasn't sure about anything. Her whole world had come crashing down in a split second. She wasn't sure if it was her fault — was it all real?
Her cloudy eyes peered out of the window. The car shook, her eyes aching as two doors were slammed shut simultaneously. Her parents had left the car, making their way inside the house not even looking at each other. Elia didn't move. She was waiting for the sound once again but none came, making her breathe out. She wasn't annoyed — she couldn't be annoyed. She was just tired. Too tired to care about any of it.
"You aren't going to come in?" she heard someone ask.
She didn't move as she felt her eyes on herself. "Yeah, no, don't want to," she replied. "Why are you still here?"
"Give me one good reason for me to not be here," Harley replied immediately.
"Grow up, genius. You shouldn't be."
"Well, do you want me to leave?"
Elia waited for a moment, then bit her lip. "No," she whispered, almost inaudible but Harley heard it anyway. It wasn't like there was anyone else with them here anyway, it was just the two siblings, both confused with what the other was thinking at the moment.
For a while, there was no conversation between them at all. Just a comfortable silence, something neither of them had gotten in a quiet while. Then, Harley spoke.
"You know, Elia," she said, "I believe you, right?"
That made her sister's head turn around, casting a sideways glance to Harley. "Why would you do that?" she asked. "No one else does. And no one else cares about what you think. There's no point in believing in me, is there? I'm a fucking disappointment. I can't do anything. I'm a loser. A dumbass. Naive. I can't even—" her voice broke, a single tear slipping down her eye. Harley sat there, watching. "I can't do anything. I'd never had anything that I could call my own and the one thing I was good at — one thing that made me feel like I'm not useless, that's taken away from me. And why? Because everyone thinks that I'm a fucking loser."
"You're not a loser, Elia. You know you aren't."
"Shut the fuck up! You don't know what it feels like being here in my place. You don't know! You know nothing, nothing at all, Lee. You don't. You don't know what it feels like. You—you don't." She took in a shaky breath, clutching her blue bag closer to her chest, holding back at the tears. "Leave."
"Elia," Harley tried, knowing that she'd fail anyway.
"Leave, Lee, please. I'm begging you."
Harley saw no choice but to step out. With a sigh, she opened the door of the car and stepped outside, looking at her sister for one last time before she'd go back to her room, doing what she always did. Elia looked so sad, so miserable, and rightfully so, since the only thing everyone thought she'd pursue in her life was now out of the cards for her.
She was about to slam the door shut when Elia spoke again.
"Thank you for believing, Harley," she said, locking eyes with her, "but I'm sorry."
Harley just nodded, closing the door and walking into the place she was supposed to call home.
***
Harley Kingsley
The scene in my mind had been just a memory but the scent of the perfume hadn't. The door opens and Penny stumbles in. She's the one wearing the perfume. And she's clearly very drunk. Her hair are dyed blue now—she did that yesterday when she went downtown. Her eyes look rather cloudy and distant, looking around before they finally set on me. Her gaze softens.
"I'll call you back, alright?" I say to Zack and cut the call before he could reply. "You drunk, Penny?"
She hums. "Yeah. I'm drunk."
"It's Monday tomorrow. You're probably gonna get a hangover tomorrow."
She leans against the wall and closes her eyes. "I can skip school. I wasn't feeling very nice."
"Why are you here?" I don't know if she's really out of it or if she's here with a purpose. I think it's the latter but it can just be me being too paranoid. I've been on the edge since Rhett's scores dropped.
"Can't a girl just be where she wants to be?" She snickers. "I wanted some fresh air so here I am, getting my share of fresh air. You're here too. It's a win-win situation."
"I don't think you understood me. Penny, why are you in the first year dorm? You have no business here."
She opens her eyes, a playful smile on her lips. "You are my business, Harley. You are my business."
"You really are out of it, aren't you? You need me to call someone to get you or you good?"
Her gaze stays constant on me. "Harley," she whispers. Even though she's still smiling, I can sense the sadness in her tone. Yeah, she's definately out of it. I just hope she doesn't pass out. Dinner was over about an hour ago, many of the students had already gone to sleep. I mentally pray that any one of her friends are still awake.
"Yeah?"
"Will you stay with me? Just for a bit. I don't think I want to be alone right now."
I make a face. "Why me?"
"Because I need someone who listens to me without spreading rumours around. You know this place is hell, don't you? She called it the seventh circle of hell. She hated this place. She absolutely fucking hated this place." Penny slumps down, slowly sitting on the ground. "Or at least I thought she did. She said she did. But I think she didn't mean it. She didn't mean it like I did. You get me? She said it in a way that she hated schoolwork. She hated it like you hate school in general. I hated it because it sucks. It sucks so bad. It's so fucking, I don't know, suffocating."
I don't say anything to this. I just sit down next to her. She needs someone to listen to her. I need to listen to her because what she's saying is rather interesting. A girl who loved this place. That sounds familiar.
"She loved this place, Harley," Penny continues. "I think she was in love with this place. She loved the thrill. She loved the adrenaline. She loved the competition. She was in love with the idea of being the best, I think. I thought we were the same but we never were. I knew that. I always did. I think that was a part of the reason why I was attracted to her in the first place. It always starts with an attraction, doesn't it? It always fucking does. I ruined it too. I fucking ended this."
Her voice sounds like she's drowning. Her eyes look distant. She's going to be so mad at herself tomorrow but all the air in my lungs is caught up in my throat and I can't myself to breath in properly. Is she saying what I think she's saying?
"Regret is an ugly thing. It's so fucking bad. I'm going to regret saying all of this to you tomorrow but you know what? I'm here because I wanted to. I got drunk tonight because I wanted to. When I wake up tomorrow, I'll regret it, sure, but I think I'm just saying all of this to you because you need to hear this. Someone needs to tell you what you already know, Harley. All those warnings that people throw around about us... they're not jokes. We're not a joke."
Her hand reaches for mine. I look at her and she's looking at me softly. She's that tough girl but she's also got a calm side like everyone. I know this meeting's supposed to be a secret. I know what it might cost me if any of this goes out.
"I regret it. I regret all of it. But I don't know how to face her again. I don't know how to say sorry to her. I don't know how to say that I genuinely did not know things would come this far, that she'd end up not being here at all. It was my fault. It should've been me. Not her." She looks towards the rail, a small smile spreading across her lips. "You want to know why I'm here, Harley? Because this was the place where I first kissed her."
She's distant as fuck now. Even though she adressed the sentence to me, it's clear that she won't hear a word I say. My presence doesn't matter to her. She's living in the past. Just like I am.
"We were here, you know. Because of Diego. We met him that day. I needed fresh air. I stepped out. Five minutes later she was with me. We were talking and I don't know what came over me and I turned around and just kissed her." She lets out a nervous laugh. "I was so nervous, you know. I'd been impulsive. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. She was cool, man. I miss her. Everything changed after that. Everything."
Her eyes snap to me, a smile spreading across her lips. "Have you ever kissed a girl, Harley?" She leans in closer. "You seem like you haven't." Her fingers brush my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. They reach my hair, twirling a free strand of it as she looks like into my eyes. I can feel the alcohol in her breath. I know what she wants from me right now. She's never going to get it.
"No," I reply without hesitation.
She lets go of me and laughs. "Does nothing ever catch you off guard? Does nothing make you nervous, Harley? Because in that way, you are different. Everything flustered her. Everything made her nervous. She was an anxious wreck even though she never showed it. She wasn't perfect even though she seemed like she was. You just had to be smart enough to see it."
"Are you okay, Penny?"
She completely ignores me. "You look like her. You have the same eyes. It's hard to catch on but yeah. You look like her. Maybe that's why I like you. Maybe it's the guilt."
"Who are you talking about?"
She just shakes her head. "Someone who's ruined. Someone's who name holds no importance anymore. We don't talk about her. We can't. There are some things we cannot say or it'll slip, though I'm sure everybody already knows."
She reaches for my hand, holding it. Drunk Penny is the softest person I've met. I didn't expect her to be like that but here she is. Surprising me. She thinks nothing can catch me off guard but she just did. "Harley Kingsley, I got drunk tonight so that I can talk to you. I'm worried about you and I don't think you believe that. I want you to but I don't know. I know you can't because it's me who's saying all this. But I want you to be careful. Whatever you do, please don't jump too much into the competition. It's too much for anyone. People like Asher, people like Nate, people like Summer—the people you're messing with? They're all selfish as fuck. They don't even care about each other. Everything's fake, you know? They can do anything to get what they want because that's who they are. They are flawed and shameless and sadistic and they will step on you and use you and throw you out like the little naive doll you are just because they want to. I want you to be careful, Harley, because I've seen you dance. You are so much better than them in every way possible and it hurts their ego. They cannot stand anyone being better than them. And you? You're younger than us. Less experienced than us. Way better than us."
She pauses, taking in a deep breath. "And nobody likes it when someone they don't even know takes away what they worked for. All they see is how much they worked. That's it. They don't give a shit about you. Not a single fucking shit."
My lips curl up in another smile. "Aren't they your friends?"
She scoffs. "Friends? Nah, man. Never in a million years. They're fucking shit—"
The door to the terrace flies open. Summer and Nate stumble in. Their eyes fall on us.
"Penny, you fucker," Summer groans. "Fucking drunkard, I swear to god. I told you not to go out of your goddamn room, didn't I?" She looks at me and smiles. "Hi. You good? Sorry about her. Penny doesn't understand simple instructions when she's drunk. Or sober. She doesn't understand anything either way."
"Sorry to bother you, Harley," Nate says, walking up to Penny. He takes her hand, hoisting her up swiftly. "Jesus, how'd you even make it up the steps without falling to your fucking death?"
"Talent, my love. Talent. It's a talent. You know, the thing that you lack?"
Summer rolls her eyes. "I'm too tired for this shit. Harley, I'll talk to you properly tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Night," I reply. Summer walks out. Nate looks at me, holding up the eye contact for half a minute before he lets Penny lean against him and beginning to walk out. Penny flashes me a knowing smile and for a moment, her smile haunts me and brings a question to my mind—was she really drunk out of her senses or did she just act like it?
I shrug the question away and make my way to my room.
***
[REDACTED] and I kissed. I liked it. She liked it. Even thinking of the moment as I write about it right now gives me butterflies. My stomach keeps fluttering and twisting and thinking about her smile is making me forget everything but her. It was on the terrace of the third year dorm and the perfect moment for it, with you know the stars and the wind and everything. She's so pretty that it hurts sometimes and I'm dying to know what happens next but oh god, why do I feel like it's all going to go downhill from here on? I hate and love this feeling at the same time. I can't wait to see what happens next but at the same time, my gut is telling me to run the fuck away. I don't want to ruin anything. I hope I don't. God, why did this have to be so confusing?
I lean back, running a hand through my hair, letting the dots connect themselves. I've speculated a lot about every single redacted name in this diary, have had a lot of breakthroughs by trying to guess who had been what character of the story. But I'd never gotten a confirmation about any of the names. Today, I did.
She thinks nothing can catch me off guard but she did. Not because she turned out of be softie underneath the wild exterior, but because all this while, I'd been searching for the answers myself. And she brought one of the biggest ones to me herself. This is probably the only thing I'll ever be thankful for towards her because now that it's all connecting, I'm starting to hate her more than I ever did.
"Switch off the lights, Harley. I'm tired as fuck today," Jude calls out sleepily from her side of the room as she tosses around on her bed. With a heavy sigh, I slam the diary shut, keeping it back in my school bag. I switch of the lights and make my way to my bed when I receive a notification from my phone.
Nate: what did penny say to you?
An involuntary smile spreads across my lips. It's just the beginning. If they all knew what I was here for, they'd slit my fucking throat. I don't reply to Nate. I just keep my phone on the bedside table and let out a sigh. I'm tired and I need to rest if I want to get this right.
The clock is ticking and it's ticking fast. I keep all my promises and I'm intending to keep this one too.
Soon, she'll pay for what she did.
They all will.
***
a/n: oh hi. yes i disappeared again. yes i might disappear again. its peak exam season so i'm not exactly getting the time to write but i'll be active from april and i'll get this book done with and you'll get some damn good and regular content from me and it'll be worth it. meanwhile, let me know what you think about this chapter.
thank you for sticking around with amber eyes<3 we're almost at 100k, i genuinely never thought this would ever happen. love you guys so much honestly.
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