*• 4 couples, 1 story, connected, entwined together •*
Azerelia Prep ,a rich private school, in a small town called kingston on the faraway coast of england.
"Leah Stale" or as now known as "Young" has just joined Azerelia Prep as a fifth year.
To t...
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~"Oh, darling, all the city lights Never shine as bright as your eyes"~
He threw the plate of mashed potatoes across the room, his expression serene as the creamy heap splattered against the wall. "This is what you call food? You're fired," he said, his voice calm and deliberate, as though issuing a simple instruction rather than severing a life's livelihood.
The chef stood frozen for a moment, her eyes wide with disbelief, and then, a tremor in her voice, she stammered, "I... I'm so sorry, sir."
"I don't care how sorry you are. Get out." My father's words were final, cold, cutting through the air like a blade. He stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, and with a swift movement, he exited the room, slamming the door behind him.
I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest tightening at the sound of the door. The silence that followed felt suffocating, broken only by the sound of scattered footsteps and muffled voices. The chef fled down the hall, her sobs echoing in the distance as she disappeared into the service quarters. I folded my napkin with precise, almost mechanical movements, the cloth smooth beneath my fingers as I rose from the table.
Dishes clattered behind me, followed by Greta's reprimands—our head chef was no doubt managing the chaos. I walked quietly down the hallway toward my room, the distant hum of the household no longer comforting but grating. I closed the door behind me with a soft click, sealing myself away from the noise.
I was just about to get ready for bed when a sharp knock rapped against my bedroom door.
"It's open," I called, already knowing who it would be.
The door creaked open, and Madi entered, her eyes wide with exaggerated surprise. "You're getting ready for bed already?"
"Sixth year starts tomorrow," I replied, turning toward her with a slight smile. "Isn't tomorrow your first day of fifth year?"
She stared at me like I had sprouted another head. "Well, yeah, but it's literally ten, dude."
"And your point is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She groaned and flopped onto the edge of my bed, exasperated. "There's no point in arguing with you. I overheard some of the servants talking about a fiasco at dinner."
I sighed. "Yeah. The new chef was fired."
Maddie's eyes softened, her voice quieting as she processed the news. "I guess I'll go get ready for bed, too."