THE HIT SHOW [ONGOING]

ACT 1, SCENE 3: The Fight

"Oh my god! You suck!"

A crowd of laughter filled the air, a chorus of hyenas.

"You totally suck! You were the slowest of the slow!"

Willow felt a sense of defensiveness creep around her, tightening her shoulders. She felt the urge to curse this girl and her minions out, but for some reason, she abandoned that altogether. She felt a sense of numbness on her fingertips and a burning sensation against her cheeks.

Was she...was she embarrassed?

No, I'm cold.

Alright, she was 'cold'.

Willow hated how all these people were so stuck up, so up themselves that they made her feel as though she was entirely smaller and inferior to them. As though they have the world at the palm of their hands and that they could decide whatever they wanted. She hated that. She hated them. She hated them so fucking much!

"Since you're all laughing so hard, I'm guessing that the stick up your asses fell out?"

Willow felt her fingers again.

I'm back bitch.s

The girl at the desk furrowed her dark brows. Her arms crossing against her puffed chest.

"Excuse me?"

Willow took a deep breath. In a loud, expressive tone, Willow spoke as though she was talking to a dumb person.

"I said, since you all laughed so hard, I'm guessing that the stick up your ass-

"Enough! You didn't make it. Now go, have your shower. You over there! You're next."

Sylvie hadn't realised that at that moment she was holding tightly onto her breath. She let it out once she saw the smug look on Willow's face as she strutted towards her. She really had trouble understanding the girl.

"How? Why? What did that m-

"Save the questions for later Sylvie. Did you make it?"

With all the racket caused, Sylvie had forgotten about herself.

"Yes, I made it."

Willow let out a squeal and squeezed the taller girl in her arms. Sylvie drew in a sharp breath as she felt a jolt of cool air shock her pale skin.

"What?"

"C-cold!"

Willow sprung back and grabbed onto her towel that had plopped on the ground. She figured that the droplets on her skin had shocked Sylvie.

"Oh! Sorry. Anyways, I'm going to head off to the showers. You coming?"

"No, I have to wait until the end."

Willow nodded. She understood that she needed to do some team stuff or whatever.

"Alright, where are the showers?"

Sylvie pointed into the distance, where a lilac-coloured one-story block stood. It almost looked out of place, amongst the Victorian architecture of Belle Cove.

With that, Willow was off. As she walked, she almost felt the pairs of eyes staring at her. Willow thought it was absolutely fucked and stupid that they were so caught on her performance. Was losing that bad here?

When she got to the bathroom, she felt someone's presence in front of the entry. A girl with red hair, lighter than her own, blocked the entrance with her arm.

"Uh sorry, the showers are closed. They're cleaning it up. Some girl threw up or something," the red head shrugged.

Willow furrowed her brows.

"What? What am I supposed to do then?"

The girl smiled and pointed above her, to the second level. The level was directly up the stairs that circled around the block. It was a peculiar shape. Unlike the lilac shower block, this place was entirely of frosted white glass.

Willow averted her attention back at the girl, who shrugged.

She then held on to her towel as she walked up the stairs. An instant shiver crept along her spine. She pulled the towel tighter around her body, as she felt the cold numb her limbs. She began to pick up her pace, almost running up the stairs. It felt as though she couldn't feel her feet.

Suddenly, Willow felt the same cackle of laughter follow her. This time it was deeper and mixed with catcalls and whistles.

Willow had gone numb. She hadn't noticed that she was standing before a group of guys, who had now stopped their hockey game. Across the ice rink, was the same girl from the desk in a robe watching Willow from the other end.

Although the girl wasn't laughing, she was smiling and the inside of her eyes were howling with laughter.

Willow dashed her towel now on the floor once again sprinting towards her target. She ran towards the other side, jumping and dodging over the seats that circulated the ice rink. Something or someone had taken complete control over her senses. She was about to pounce, like a cheetah hunting for its prey.

One of the players awkwardly stomped off the ice rink and onto the sidelines, where the prey stood. As Willow bolted toward the desk girl, he stepped in front of her. He put out his gloved hand as if that would stop Willow.

Willow hadn't noticed that the desk girl was now screaming bloody murder. She let out a scoff at her weakness.

"What happened? Dropped your balls?! And tell your boyfriend to move out of my fucking way! Move!"

Willow began grabbing at the boy's hockey shirt, trying to get him off balance. The boy held Willow's arm, while he stumbled to keep himself up on his skates. With his other hand, he tugged off his helmet.

"Are you hearing me? I said stop."

Willow hadn't realised how tall the boy was. Or maybe, it were his skates that made him taller than he actually was. Unlike Sylvie's blonde hair, this boy's hair was golden and had a sense of perfect wave. It sat right in place despite him probably sweating on the rink. Even though he had possibly just got off practice, he smelt sweet and musky all at once. It was a strange one but it wasn't bad. It smelt good actually. His eyes were as if they were inspired by the autumn leaves, swirling around the trees before they took off with the wind.

He was a work of art.

Willow hated him.

"What?!" She protested before proceeding to try and reach the girl behind him.

"Are you okay?"

His tone was less direct, softer.

Willow was taken aback. She looked up at him once more and furrowed her brows. She scrunched her nose eyeing him out.

"Are you okay?" she mimicked in a deep voice that was meant to insultingly match his tone.

The boy blinked a few times, shocked at this girl's behavior. He wasn't used to dealing with people like her.

"Let go! - You! You can hide all you want, watch your back!" Willow snatched her arm from the boy's grip, which had loosened still pondering on Willow's behaviour.

She turned on her heel and stormed off. The desk girl regained her safety and her confidence.

"Your ass is eating that swimsuit!" she called after her.

Willow knew she wasn't as slim as these girls. She had the handles, the dips and the pouch of a stomach. She didn't care.

"At least I got an ass!" she called back as she walked off.

Belle Cove hadn't witnessed such a scene. They had seen the occasion embarrassments, the pranks, the fights - but not one that could fight back in public.

At Belle Cove Academy, fighting was done discretely.