CECILIA VALENTINO
Walking through the halls, everyone knows who I am. The queen bee. The girl in charge. People might say my name, but it's the whispers about me that matter. I've made this place mine, and it's not by accident.
Look at me - hair done, clothes on point. I make it all seem easy like I was born for this. But the truth is, I've worked for it.
Friends? Yeah, they're more like followers.
I pick who's in and who's out, and they follow my lead. Maybe one or two have earned my respect but the other's are just pawns.
High school is a game, and I play it better than anyone. I've got my own set of rules. Cross me, and you're out. Stay on my good side, and maybe you'll catch some of the coolness that surrounds me.
People think it's all about being mean. Maybe it is a bit. But it's also about staying on top. There's always someone wanting to take my spot, and I can't let that happen. So, I keep up the act, the sharp looks, the attitude that says I'm in control.
Sure, I've got friends - or whatever you wanna call them. But it's not about friendship; it's about power. They want to be close to the girl on top. And I make sure they know it.
Being the queen bee isn't easy, but I've made my choice. The throne is mine, and I'm not giving it up for anything.
After all, in this high school kingdom, the throne was mine, and I intended to rule with an iron fist and a perfectly manicured hand. And I intend to do it alone.
Love, relationships, and all that romance stuff? Not my thing. I've never understood the hype. Maybe it's the butterflies in the stomach nonsense or the idea of sharing my world with someone else.
Frankly, I'm not interested.
Friends try to set me up, thinking they've found someone who can "change my mind."
I wish you good luck with that. I've built my walls, and I'm not letting anyone tear them down. Emotions are for weak people. And I for one am not weak.
Sure, people call me cynical, maybe even cold. But I call it being realistic. I've seen the heartbreak, the tears, and the messy aftermath of love gone wrong.
No, thank you.
People say I have no feelings. The truth is, I am too cruel to fall in love or lust. I don't deserve it. Nonetheless, I don't want it either.
See something you like? Too bad. I don't do boys nor men. Maybe some casual fucks, but they know better than to stay.
Today is the first day back at the Mafia Academy after the summer break, and I'm already tingling with excitement. Summer had been a temporary escape from the intense work of the academy, but now reality hits. Not that I'm complaining but it was nice.
Returning feels like returning to a world where shadows hold secrets, and uses them against you.
Walking through the corridors, the echoes of my footsteps mingle with the hushed conversations of my peers. The air is thick with anticipation and the unspoken questions about how the summer has changed us. We're all wearing our best poker faces, but the excitement is undefined, a live wire charging the atmosphere.
I'm not just any student here. My family name carries weight, a legacy. The expectations on my shoulders are immense, not just to excel but to lead.
The corridors are alive with the low hum of conversations, I'm waiting for Maeve but she's probably fucking someone in the janitor's closet.
My gaze sharpens when I catch sight of Lorenzo, the self-proclaimed "king" of the school, and my personal nemesis. Words cannot define the enormous hate I have for him. The mere thought of his presence makes my skin crawl.
Lorenzo, the embodiment of arrogance and a notorious playboy, a fuckboy. A smirk playing on his lips.
We share a history, one filled with rivalry, disdain, and a mutual understanding that we're each other's worst enemies. Lorenzo is the master of manipulation, a puppeteer who revels in toying with others' emotions. But not with me.
"Lorenzo," I acknowledge with a tight-lipped smile, refusing to let his cocky demeanor get under my skin.
His reputation as a notorious 'fuck boy' precedes him.
"Summer treating you well, trouble?" Lorenzo's voice carries a tone of mock respect, but I see through the facade.
His words are like honey, sweet and tempting, but I know the sting that follows.
We're like chess pieces, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
"Still playing the same games?" I reply with a wry smile, my words dripping with confidence.
Lorenzo may be the 'king' of his games, but I refuse to be a pawn in his playbook. Behind the charming veneer is a manipulator, a heartbreaker with no regard for the collateral damage he leaves in his wake.
Lorenzo's smirk widens, and his eyes gleam with a mix of amusement and challenge. The air between us crackles with tension, a silent battlefield where words are the weapons, and each exchange is a strategic move.
"Games, my dear trouble, are what make life interesting," he replies, his voice carrying a tantalizing edge.
"But you've always been too serious for that, haven't you?" Lorenzo's words are laced with a familiarity that cuts deep, referencing a history we both wish we could forget.
I resist the urge to let the annoyance show on my face. Lorenzo revels in the game, in pushing boundaries and breaking hearts. He thrives on chaos, while I navigate through the shadows with purpose.
Lorenzo takes a cigarette from his packet and sparks it. Then tosses his lighter in his grey sweatpants. He licks his lips, and I watch his mouth as he takes another draw. Fuck, my mind is playing games with me right now.
"Fuck you," I say as our eyes meet. His eyes are as electric as I remember but there's something else behind them.
Something dark that wasn't there before.
As he walks away, his lingering gaze speaks of a challenge, an unspoken invitation to a battle that extends beyond the academy's classrooms. I know the depths of Lorenzo's cunning, his ability to weave webs of deception, and I'm determined not to get stuck in a trance.
The academy may be a place of calculated moves and strategic alliances, but in the dance between me and Lorenzo, every step is a confrontation, every word a duel. My family name may carry weight, but so does the history that ties me to him.
A history stained with resentment and a bitter rivalry that is far more hateful than the academy's walls.
a/n
AHH FIRST CHAPTER!!
and i already love em
what do you think??
YOU ARE READING
kill joy
Romance─── ⋆⋅ೀ⋅⋆ ── "I hate you," I whispered. His lips connected back to mine in haste. I tugged at the strands of his hair. I couldn't get enough of him. His lips, his taste. But I wouldn't admit that to him, or anyone for that matter, ever. Maybe this w...
