Monster High: A New Start (Male Reader)

Dreadful Director

Nothing against the Olympics. They're inspiring, and they originated in Greece, just like Deucey. But whenever they rolled around, Cleo's favorite TV shows were taken off the air and replaced with, and let's be honest, two weeks' worth of obscure, unendorsable physical activities.

During that time, Cleo would often find herself wandering aimlessly around the palace like a lost camel in the desert, in search of something familiar to ground her. It was a disorienting, unnerving condition for which the only cures were the closing ceremonies and the subsequent return of her regularly scheduled programming.

Once order had been restored, she'd celebrate by eating one of Hasina's decadent chocolate pyramid cupcakes, to replenish the inevitable calorie loss she'd suffered during her fourteen days of wandering.

And now, seated in her area of the Monster High cafeteria with her three best friends, Cleo bit off the chocolate point of the pyramid in celebration of a different kind of restoration: the restoration of her regularly scheduled life. The one in which Clawdeen, Draculaura, and Lagoona focused on her like a high-performance zoom lens.

The one in which newbies (Rochelle!) and normies (You!) weren't making headlines. The one in which there was cell service in the palace. And dates with D on Saturday nights. The one in which she'd announce her Teen Vogue shoot, and her friends would sweat envy for days. The one that she was about to get back.

Oh, and the not being some mind control thing. That was nice, she supposed.

So far nothing pointed to the contrary. The cafeteria was filling up with hungry normies en route to their usual tables in the Peanut-Free, Gluten-Free, Lactose-Free, and new Fat-Free food zones. As usual, girls passed Cleo and her friends with a sideways glance to check their fashion-forward outfits.

If Deuce wasn't around, and he wasn't on Mondays because of casketball practice, guys would do the same. They'd bop their heads to the lunchtime playlist, which today began with "I Made It (Cash Money Heroes)" by Kevin Rudolf. The lyrics couldn't have been more appropriate.

I've known all my life.

I made it.

I made it.

Cleo chewed the rich pyramid-shaped cake to the triumphant beat that signaled her return. And with calculated patience, she flipped through photos on her phone, waiting for someone to ask the inevitable question.

Clawdern: My Sweet Sixteen invites went out today.

Clawdeen bit her double bacon burger.

Clawdeen: I kissed each envelope with MAC Girl About Town lipstick before I dropped it into the mailbox, which is why I was late for math this morning. Though, I am a bit worried that Y/N might not go. I mean, like, we're friends, but he might be uncomfortable around my brothers.

She paused, obviously hoping for a reaction. Cleo refused, she hadn't been the center of attention in days, and it was starting to dull the shine on her hair.

Finally Draculaura leaned closer and peeked at the screen with her deep brown eyes.

Draculaura: Hey!

She flicked a dab of chocolate icing off the pyramid with her cold finger. It landed on Cleo's black mesh sweater and fell onto her pink-and-gray tie-dyed leggings.

Draculaura: What are you looking at?

Cleo: Um, my stained pants!

Lagoona: Seriously, Sheila, whatever's on that celly must be ace, 'cause you haven't even noticed Lagoona's smudged eyeliner.

Blue said, playfully tapping her gray-gloved fingers against her cheek.

Draculaura: Nice. Make fun of the blind girl.