All the Male Leads are Trash

Chapter 1

Ugh.

'My head hurts and my body feels sore. I can't even see properly. I can't...I can't move. Why can't I move? WHY CAN'T I MOVE MY BODY!?'

Wriggle wriggle.

I am trying to move and open my eyes but my body feels so stiff and sluggish, I feel tired- wet...something wet just hit my face and someone is making a sound but I can't make out what it is.

I don't know what is happening but I feel suffocated, like the air in my lungs is being drawn out, or more like my lungs have given up on breathing.

'I...feel...sleepy...Yeah...I just need...sleep...'

...

..

.

"My lady?"

My lady, my lady. If I hear my lady one more time, I swear. It's been a week since I, Cara Grace, found myself in this strange place. I first thought someone was playing a prank on me but these people aren't playing.

"Young miss, the young masters are waiting for you in the garden" a throaty and elderly man's voice let out.

This old man is the butler of this manor or mansion or whatever, I don't know what is happening or where this place is but I know for sure that I am a rich girl over here.

"Okay, lead... lead the way" I wobbly let out.

Click clack.

The sound of my pumps colliding with the floor of a long corridor as I walk to the garden is the only thing that can be heard other than my wildly bumping heart which can only be heard by me of course. I have no idea what to expect from the people here.

The so-called young masters I am to meet are my brothers and cousin who just so happened to come back from a trip. I am nervous, because what if they notice...I am not her?

I finally made it to the venue. I am greeted by a cute brunch set-up that I used to see on some random internet magazine. It feels so surreal being able to see this in real-time.

"Ch-charla!" a young-looking boy with ginger hair and silver eyes, who was probably nine or so stood up as soon as he saw me and rushed to pull out my chair.

'What a gentleman.... gentle boy? Whatever, but he is cute'.

I take the seat and give him a short thank you, in which he beams at my response with an abnormally bright smile. The other two on the other hand look amused at the actions, like it is something new. The oldest-looking boy, with red hair and sharp green eyes, then averted his gaze while the last guy, who looked like he was around my age shifted in his seat, bringing his chair closer to mine before a grin was pulled onto his face.

"Oh Charla, it's so good to see you up and about and more especially you participating in this little gathering of ours," the boy said as he leaned towards my direction, his icy blue eyes making eye contact with mine.

'This kid is so weird-'

"I am really happy to see you...dear cousin "the boy says, while his hand reaches out to get some of my hair before he is cut off.

"Ch-charla, what happened to you while we were away!?" the small boy from before asked while yanking the hair that the blue-eyed boy was trying to get, yanking my head with him.

"Ouchy!"

"I am so sorry Charla, I didn't mean to!" the boy cried out, tears gathering at the rim of his grey eyes.

"Charla, are you alright, do you need anything?" the blue-eyed boy asked, but the concern in his voice was non-existent, unlike the worried face he displayed.

"Pl-please forgive me, please" the ginger-haired boy pleaded.

"Enough" an assertive voice let out.

The chatter from the two boys instantly stopped and the atmosphere became solemn. The person who caused this was the oldest-looking boy with red hair. His green eyes contained a look of mystery and sternness. He looked like he was just a teenage boy, yet he could invoke such an atmosphere.

"You guys know very well what happened to Andrea so just shut up and leave her alone "the boy finished.

'Andrea? Who the heck is Andrea...Is that some other name of mine that people just so happened not to inform me about? I only know that this body's name is Charlotte.'

The other two boys got up to leave reluctantly, leaving me and this red-haired teen. He just looked at me, like he was trying to stare into my soul to check for something.

"Andrea," he said, his voice coming out kind of hoarse.

He got up from his chair and moved towards me. He pulled out a hander kerchief from his breast pocket before wiping the lock of hair the other two boys had been touching before taking off his black leather gloves that I had not noticed he was wearing until now, revealing hands with scars and scratches that don't match his beautiful face. Once he did that, he left me in the garden, alone.

'What the actual fu-'