Zachary Jacobson :
Andhorra Mackenzie :
George.P Turner :
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Chapter 2: The fight
Sitting in my hard wooden chair, I found myself lost in thought, barely registering the words of my teacher as he droned on about the intricacies of the human body. My mind was preoccupied, consumed by thoughts of Aiyden and his penetrating gaze.
It was a forbidden attraction, one that flew in the face of everything I had been raised to believe. The teachings of my clan, passed down through generations, had instilled in me a deep-seated hatred for anyone that was of a different ethnicity. They were considered inferior, unworthy of respect or kindness. Yet, I found myself drawn to Aiyden, unable to ignore the way his penetrating, dark brown eyes had pierced through me.
Perhaps returning his wallet would offer a chance to see him again, to feel that same magnetic pull that had consumed me in the forest just days before. But it was a dangerous game, a risk that could have dire consequences if my father discovered the stolen object in my possession.
The internal struggle continued as I couldn't decide what to do. The thought of reporting Aiyden to the clan, as my duty required, crossed my mind. But, the truth was, I didn't want to. I wanted him to live, and I couldn't stomach the idea of the clan going after him and initiating another ritual.
Why was I so obsessed with him? I asked myself this question over and over. Despite my conflicting emotions, I knew deep down that what I felt that night in the forest was real. I just didn't know how to reconcile it with the beliefs that had been instilled in me since birth.
Perhaps disposing of Aiyden's wallet was the best option to keep him alive and out of the clan's radar. But could I truly resist the urge to see him again, to feel his eyes on me, and to experience the inexplicable pull that had gripped me since our encounter in the forest? My mind was a jumbled mess as I weighed my options.
As the class ended, I made my way to the cafeteria for lunch, walking through the crowded corridors of Wentworth Hall Academy. The bustling noise of the other students around me was nothing but background sound, and I felt utterly disconnected from it all. Lost in my own musings, it took someone calling my name to bring me back to reality.
"Nero, hey!" Andhora was waving at me from across the cafeteria, motioning me to come over. "We were just talking about Thomas' party tomorrow. What are you going to wear?"
I forced a smile, trying to hide the fact that I hadn't been paying attention. "Oh, um, I don't know yet, probably just ... a dress." I replied, my thoughts already drifting back to my own troubles.
"What about you Charlie? I really can't decide what to wear..." continued Andhora.
Tyler's mocking tone interrupted, "Why are you even asking her? This girl can't think for herself, she only does whatever Nero does!"
Zackary added, "Yes, that is right! Talk about having no personality!"
"Enough guys. Leave Charlie Alone, after all... who would not want to be me" I replied pushing my hair of my shoulder and being clearly aware of my position in Crimson Hollow, how every girl would kill to be me.
My friends continued to chat excitedly about the party, but I found it difficult to join in. Instead, I picked at my food, lost in thoughts, which were interrupted by Thomas' voice as he asked, "Baby, you okay?"
I met his gaze, knowing it was impossible to confide in anyone about my true feelings. "I'm fine, don't worry about me, you know today is just a difficult day for me," I muttered.
Thomas didn't seem convinced, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he kissed me on the forehead and launched into a story about something funny that had happened in his math class. Despite my troubles, I found myself laughing along with everyone else, grateful for the brief reprieve from my own mind.
As lunchtime drew to a close, my friends stood up, ready to make their way back to class. But just as I was about to follow suit, Tyler grabbed me by the arm and held me back with a mischievous smile. "Hey, listen," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Why don't we skip class today and do something else? I know what day it is."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his offer. "What do you have in mind?"
"It's your mom's death anniversary, right?" Tyler said softly, his eyes full of understanding. "I thought maybe we could go visit her grave together so you don't have to do it alone, or we could do something fun to distract you."
My heart sank as I realized I had completely forgotten about the anniversary. My mind had been consumed by my recent encounter with Aiyden, and I hadn't even considered the significance of the day. I hadn't anticipated anyone remembering the anniversary either, let alone offering to accompany me.
Tyler, with his messy brown hair and bright green eyes, had always been one of my closest friends, and he seemed to grasp the significance of the day. Though, deep down, I knew Tyler's affection for me exceeded just friendship.
Despite my initial resistance, Tyler's offer was too kind to refuse. "I don't need a babysitter, Tyler. I can handle myself," I tried to play it off.
But Tyler wasn't fooled by my facade. "I'm not trying to babysit you, Nero. I just want to be there for you. We're friends, remember?"
I sighed heavily, acknowledging that Tyler was correct. I couldn't face this day by myself. "Fine," I relented. "Let's go visit my mother."
Tyler's small smile conveyed his approval. "That's the spirit. We can make a day of it. We'll bring some flowers, maybe have a picnic."
I found myself offering a small smile in return, appreciative of Tyler's ability to infuse even the darkest days with light. "Okay," I agreed. "Let's do it."
As we left the school and climbed into Tyler's car, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread mingled with gratitude. I was glad to have Tyler by my side, but I couldn't shake the guilt of forgetting my mother's death anniversary.
As we drove, Tyler and I chatted about our friends, catching up on all the latest drama. Suddenly Tyler leaned over and turned down the music, his expression serious.
"I just want you to know, Nero, that I'm not doing this just because Thomas asked me to. He would have loved to come but he had a university interview as part of his application. Regardless, I would have come even if he hadn't asked me. You mean a lot to me, more than you probably realise... I know today is a tough day for you, and I want to be there for you in any way that I can."
I was surprised by Tyler's words. I was aware of Thomas' feelings towards me, but I always perceived him as a callous individual who would not be empathetic towards my emotions, especially on the anniversary of my mother's death. Yet looking back I now realise that he had always made a small but significant gesture to make me feel less alone on this day each year. At the time, I had assumed that he was merely following social conventions and niceties.
Despite feeling a twinge of embarrassment at Tyler's words, I made an effort to maintain my stoic demeanor. I had always known that Tyler had a crush on me, but I had never reciprocated those feelings. As he looked at me with his bright green eyes, his hand lingering on my shoulder, I couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of discomfort.
"I appreciate the offer, Tyler," I said coolly. "But I can handle things on my own. I don't need anyone's help." Maintaining my reputation as a strong and self-reliant individual was essential for my position in the social hierarchy. Any sign of weakness could be used against me by those who sought to undermine my authority. I had worked hard to achieve and maintain my status, and I wasn't about to let anyone jeopardize it.
We arrived at the cemetery, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Every year for the last fourteen years I had been coming alone. So truly I was happy to have Tyler by my side today.
Indeed, Nicodemo was never able to mourn the death of my mother, and he simply could not find the strength to resolve to visit mom's grave.
Tyler turned to me, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 'So, are you ready for this?' he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
I smiled at his attempt, appreciating his efforts to make me feel better. 'Yeah, I am.'
Tyler placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Nero. I'm here for you."
In the cemetery, the air was still and heavy, as if even the birds dared not disturb the peace of the resting souls. The sun was setting, casting an orange and pink glow across the sky, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise melancholic atmosphere. The trees surrounding the cemetery seemed to be shedding their leaves in mourning, as if they too were paying their respects to the departed. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant cawing of crows.
We walked through the rows of graves, which seemed to stretch on forever, each one telling a story of a life lived and a loved one lost.
My mother's grave was at the far end of the cemetery, and the sight of it, with its ornate marble headstone, filled me with both sorrow and comfort. We had spared no expense in ensuring that her final resting place was fit for a queen.
I knelt down in front of the grave, feeling the cold dampness of the ground seeping through my clothes. The marble headstone was an impressive sight, a testament to the love and respect my family had for my mother. It was engraved with her name, the dates of her birth and death, and a heartfelt inscription that read: "Gone but not forgotten. Forever in our hearts."
I traced the letters with my finger, feeling the smoothness of the stone and the roughness of the carved words.
Tyler placed a comforting hand on my back, and I leaned into him, grateful for his support.
"Mom," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "It's been so long since I last visited you. I hope you can forgive me. I have been so busy with everything, but I know that's no excuse."
I took a deep breath and continued, "You would be proud of me, Mom. I have accomplished so much since you've been gone. I have successfully maintained my position as the queen of my social circle, but it has come with a price. I have had to sacrifice so much to get to where I am now. But I know you would understand. You always encouraged me to be the best that I could be."
I paused, taking another deep breath. "I remember the days when you used to read me bedtime stories and sing me lullabies," I continued. "You were always there for me and I know you continue to look out for me"
Tyler remained silent, giving me the space to grieve and remember. The sun slowly set behind the trees, casting long shadows over the graves. The world grew quiet, and the only sound was the beating of my heart.
"I'll always carry you in my heart. Rest in peace, Mom. I'll see you again someday."
I stayed there for a few more moments, enjoying my memories.
Then, Tyler broke the silence.
"Nero, can I ask you something?" I nodded, not sure what he was going to say.
"What was your mom like?" he asked, turning his body to face me. "I have never dared to ask all these years."
I took a deep breath, trying to recall any fragments of memories that I had of my mother. "She passed away when I was only three years old, so my memories of her are quite hazy. But according to my father and grandparents, she was a remarkable woman. Her name was Seraphina, and she hailed from Russia. She was the epitome of perfection, every inch of her exuding effortless elegance."
Tyler leaned in, his eyes fixed on mine, hanging onto every word I said.
"Her taste in fashion was unparalleled, and she always dressed in the finest designer clothing. She had a particular eye for quality and timeless style, and each piece in her wardrobe was hand-selected. But she wasn't just all about appearances. My mother was kind and selfless, always putting others before herself. And she was a gifted artist and singer - her paintings adorn the walls of our home, and her voice was like that of an angel."
Tyler wrapped his arms around me in a comforting embrace, and I leaned into him, finding solace in his embrace. "I wish I could have met her," he murmured.
A sad smile graced my lips as I replied, "Me too."
We sat there in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company and the snacks we brought along, until the sky transformed into a warm shade of orange. Tyler then offered to give me a ride back home.
Stepping out of the car, I felt my heart pounding with trepidation, I couldn't help but feel a familiar unease settling in the pit of my stomach. I was home. Home to the sprawling mansion looming before me, an impressive structure fit for royalty. The grand entrance and sweeping drive were clearly designed to impress.
To anyone else, the mansion was a sight to behold, with ivy climbing the walls and sweeping lawns stretching out before it. The legacy of wealth and privilege that had been bestowed upon my family for generations was evident in every inch of the estate.
The interior of the house was as opulent as one would expect from a family of old money. Every piece of furniture had been imported from the finest designers in Europe, and the decor was impeccable. The walls were adorned with paintings and sculptures, and every room was filled with expensive furniture and rare antiques. But to me, it was all just a facade.
There was a darkness to it's aesthetic that was hard to shake. It was as if the house itself was hiding secrets, as if the very walls held the whispers of the past. It was like stepping into a different era, one where opulence was everything and secrets were hidden behind closed doors. I had grown up in this world of extravagance, and it had left me feeling cold and uneasy.
George, the butler, appeared at my side, his impeccable suit and calm demeanor a sharp contrast to my own nervousness. "Welcome home, Miss Gambino" he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "Shall I take your things?"
I handed him my bag and coat and watched as he disappeared down the hallway.
I took a deep breath and walked further into the mansion.
As I walked the corridors of our estate, I grew even more anxious. I knew Nicodemo would not be pleased with my absence from school today, but it wasn't until I saw him in the living room that I felt the full weight of his disapproval. He sat in his favourite armchair, a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes bore into mine with a coldness that sent shivers down my spine.
"Where have you been, Nero?" his voice was sharp and clipped, and I could feel his disappointment seeping through every word.
I hesitated for a moment, knowing that the truth would only make things worse. "I was out," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nicodemo's eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened into a thin line. "Out where, precisely?" he asked, his tone growing even colder.
"I was visiting Mom's grave," I said, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of pain cross his face. But it was quickly replaced by his usual stoicism.
"You know how I feel about skipping class, Nero," he said, his voice like ice. "Education is important, and I expect you to take it seriously. You are my legacy, after all."
I bit my lip, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. I knew that I could never live up to my mother's memory in Nicodemo's eyes. She had been perfection, beautiful and accomplished, and he had always held her up as an example for me to follow.
Gone were the days where Nicodemo would tuck me in at night and regale me with tales of adventure and magic. Those moments had been replaced by an icy distance that only seemed to grow with each passing day. I yearned for the closeness that we once shared, but since my mother's passing, Nicodemo's demeanor had become even colder and more aloof.
It was as if he couldn't bear to look at me without being reminded of his immense loss. I couldn't fault him for his grief, but it was hard not to feel the pain of his rejection. The memories of our once-loving relationship were now just a faint echo, a shadow of what could have been.
I left the room, feeling dismissed by a simple wave of his hand. Nicodemo was a rigid and stern man, and no matter how much effort I put in, I could never seem to earn his approval. His disappointment in me was palpable.
I climbed the stairs to my room with a heavy heart, feeling both sad and frustrated. Thoughts of my mother and the life I could have had if she were still alive filled my mind, but even as I closed my eyes, I couldn't shake the memory of Nicodemo's cold stare.
I walked through another mundane day of classes at Wentworth Hall Academy, counting down the hours until Thomas' party. I couldn't wait to let loose and have some fun.
As I got home, Charlie joined me so that we could get ready together. George, my personal butler, arrived with a tray of Manhattan cocktails, and I grinned with excitement as I took one, savouring the sweet, tangy taste as it rolled over my tongue.
I turned to the full-length mirror and began to slip into my outfit – a stunning two-piece tweed Chanel set from the spring/summer 1994 collection. The bralette top and high-waisted skirt hugged my curves in all the right places, while the gold chain belt accentuated my waist. I paired it with my signature look - a Korean hair bow and a bold red velvet lipstick.
As a fashion enthusiast, I knew every single collection from my favourite houses, most of them being French designers. France had always inspired grace and elegance, so I even learned French so that I could read some of the best French romance classics.
Charlie, as always, was watching me with keen interest, It was clear that she was desperate to emulate my every move. Despite her efforts to imitate my style, I knew that I was the true trendsetter. Charlie may have been my best friend, but there was a part of her that was always jealous of me - my looks, my style, my social status – and it was obvious.
My mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of Aiyden, and I desperately sought advice from someone. "Hey Charlie," I began tentatively, "what should a girl do if she happens to meet someone by chance and feels something she's never experienced before? Something she can't put into words, and now she's yearning to see him again, but knows her family and friends could never accept or tolerate him?"
Charlie's reaction was instantaneous. She choked on her cocktail before demanding, "Wait, are we talking about you?"
I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "Charlie, please contain yourself and behave," I ordered her firmly. "No, I'm not talking about me. I read about it ... in ... a French romance novel, and I was just curious about your opinion." I had quickly made up that lie.
Charlie raised a sceptical eyebrow but decided to indulge me anyway. "Well, if she's feeling something like that, it's definitely worth pursuing. It's her life, not her family's," she declared, settling down on the bed to sip at her cocktail.
The conversation quickly turned to other topics, with Charlie gossiping about Meghan's latest power play and how we had to put her back in her place. As she spoke, my thoughts drifted back to Aiyden, and I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us.
On our way out to the party, we stopped on the grand marble staircase in the foyer to take a few pictures. I knew that my seven million Instagram followers would love to see my outfit for the night.
As we made our way to the most glamorous house party of the year, I couldn't fathom arriving in anything other than a Rolls-Royce Phantom, with a personal chauffeur at the wheel. He graciously opened the door, and Charlie and I effortlessly settled into the plush leather seats. Our eyes met briefly, brimming with excitement for the night ahead.
As we began our journey, I swiftly uploaded a photo that Charlie had taken of me earlier on the grand staircase to my Instagram feed. Within seconds, my phone began to vibrate with notifications from the countless admirers who were praising my fashion sense and beauty. It was exhilarating. I felt like a deity, and I revelled in it. By the way, if you aren't already following me on IG, my username is @NeroGambino.
The car flowed through the city streets seamlessly, and I couldn't resist checking my phone every few minutes to keep up with the influx of attention and admiration. The rush of validation was addicting, and I couldn't help but savour it.
We arrived at Thomas' grand estate shortly after, a perfect blend of Italian sophistication and English architecture that perfectly reflected his heritage. Although, his mansion was second only to my own estate in Crimson Hollow, of course.
As a true gentleman, Thomas greeted me at the car with a warm smile and offered his arm, and together we walked towards the entrance. But as we made our way, I couldn't help but notice Charlie's expression, which betrayed her jealousy of Thomas' attention towards me.
The energy in the air was palpable. The most influential and esteemed members of the community were in attendance. The music was blasting, and the guests were dressed in their finest attire, but I was the shining star of the night.
As we walked past a group of girls, I overheard them belittling Charlie, and it was clear that they viewed her as a cheap imitation of me. I responded with a polite smile, but my words were anything but kind. I reminded them that not everyone could match my level of sophistication, and that Charlie was doing the best she could. In retrospect, my words were not the epitome of grace.
We made our way to the bar for some shots before hitting the dance floor. Thomas did not follow us and went to talk with the rest of the guests. I was caught up in the pulsating beats and the electric atmosphere, and I couldn't help but lose myself in the rhythm.
As the night wore on, I noticed Andhora and Zachary doing drugs in the corner, but I held myself to a higher standard and refrained from participating.
The lights cast a surreal glow over the swaying crowd, and I let myself get lost in the music. Tyler appeared before me, and we began to dance together, but I didn't anticipate his advances. He was a good friend, and I didn't want to hurt him, but I still felt uncomfortable as he became increasingly flirty and pushy.
Despite knowing Tyler for twelve years and his long-standing crush on me, I was not interested in his advances. I continued to dance, but I could feel his hands on my waist, pulling me closer. I was intoxicated by the music and the moment, but I couldn't ignore the unease that was creeping up on me.
I took a step back, trying to put some distance between Tyler and myself, but he persisted, edging closer with each movement. His gaze locked onto mine, and I felt trapped, the heat from his body overwhelming.
I scanned the room for Charlie, hoping for support, but she was nowhere to be found. Instead, I caught Thomas's eye from across the room, his anger and jealousy building as he watched his best friend hit on me in plain sight. I wondered what had come over Tyler.
Despite my discomfort, the music was too loud, the lights too bright, and the drinks too abundant for me to be in the right mind space. Tyler's hands began to wander, and I instinctively recoiled. But he persisted, not taking no for an answer. I tried to keep my distance, but he kept following me, making unwarranted advances, even going as far as claiming that I had feelings for him for years but couldn't act on them because of my engagement to Thomas. I knew I had to remove myself from the situation before it escalated any further.
Just as I was about to leave, Tyler grabbed me and forcefully kissed me. I pushed him away, but he only laughed and tried to grab me again. At that moment, Thomas stormed onto the dance floor, anger burning in his eyes.
Without a word, Thomas launched himself at Tyler, striking him hard across the face and sending him sprawling to the floor. Tyler stumbled back to his feet, dazed and confused, and demanded to know what was going on. But Thomas was beyond reasoning; his jealousy and possessiveness had taken over. He unleashed another blow, this time fracturing Tyler's nose. The once lively party atmosphere quickly devolved into a full-blown brawl as the two men started throwing punches and yelling at each other.
The violence was alarming and brutal. Thomas's eyes were wild with fury as he repeatedly punched Tyler, seemingly incapable of controlling his rage. Tyler fought back, but it was clear that he was outmatched. Blood was spattering everywhere, and I could hear bones cracking with each impact.
The other partygoers tried to intervene, but it was futile. Zachary, Jonas, and the other guys attempted to separate the two, but they were too caught up in their fury. It was a terrible sight to behold.
As I watched the scene unfold, I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn't the fact that two men were fighting over me that was embarrassing, but rather the sheer lack of manners and decorum that was on display. It was as if they were both animals fighting over prey.
Finally, someone managed to break up the fight, and the partygoers dispersed, looking shaken and horrified by what they had just witnessed. I couldn't help but feel responsible for the chaos and destruction that had unfolded before my eyes.
I stepped out to the gardens taking a holder to smoke a cigarette, seeking solace in the tranquil surroundings. I couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes, but it was a small price to pay for the temporary escape it provided. As I stood there, lost in my thoughts, Thomas appeared before me, his shirt stained with blood. It was clear that the fight with Tyler had been brutal, and I shuddered at the thought of the violence that had taken place.
Thomas was visibly shaken and apologetic for what Tyler had done to me. He refused to leave my side for the rest of the night, determined to keep me safe. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn't help but feel annoyed at the lack of choice I had in the matter.
As I lay in bed that night, my mind raced with questions about Tyler's behaviour and concern for his well-being. I also couldn't shake the image of Aiyden's wallet poking out of my desk drawer. I had been careless with it, and the guilt of potentially endangering Aiyden weighed heavily on me.
But Charlie's earlier words played on a loop in my head, and I couldn't ignore them. While I knew she was cunning and manipulative, I had also come to rely on her as a valuable ally.
After careful consideration, I concluded that her advice had been genuine, and I resolved to return Aiyden's wallet and take the risk of pursuing him again, no matter the consequences. It was a reckless decision, but I was willing to sacrifice everything for a chance to see him again.