The Touch of the bad boy

New day, New ME folks!!!

VIOLET LILAC PERIWINKLE'S POV -

The sound of the rooster crowing jolted me awake once more. I sat up in bed, a thrill of realisation washing over me: today was different. Today was all about me, a day bursting with sunshine and possibilities. I hopped out of bed and twirled into the bathroom, quickly finishing my morning routine.

Wrapping a pink fluffy towel tightly around my fragile body, I dashed downstairs to grab my adorable baby pink skirt. After getting dressed, I tucked the oversized sweater into the waistband of the skirt, which almost swallowed meI straightened my already sleek brown hair, letting it cascade down my shoulders, and touched up my lips with a bit of shiny lip gloss. You see, I didn't feel the need for makeup—it just never sat right on me and often made my skin itch. It always left me feeling insecure.

As the nerves started to creep in, I made my way downstairs, where Mommy had prepared a stack of pancakes for me. I quickly gobbled them up, and she kissed me on the cheek before I hopped into the limo that I requested mommy to make pink.

I greeted Bob the butler with my good ol' grin. But as we approached the enormous sign for Alpine Heights, I felt myself tremble. Taking a deep, steadying breath that only managed to make me sway, I stepped out of the limo, only to find that all eyes were on me.

I shook violently as I looked around, realising that everyone else seemed so cool and collected, dressed in the dark colours that were initially provided by the school. My vibrant outfit felt out of place, dimming my brightness like a cloud overshadowing the sun. I felt a growing fear that I might lose my light with every passing second I spent in this sea of black and grey.

I have a feeling that my Mommy will need to come and save me.

XAVIER ALPHINE BLACK POV

I hate the world. Everyone and everything in it.

In the fading light of the house, I can still feel my father's presence. It lingers like smoke, heavy and suffocating, wrapped around memories that flash in vivid technicolor—his scent, the weight of his lingering presence, the pain he left behind. As much as I want to erase it all, I can't. I hate everyone, especially him.

I brush my teeth with a mechanical rhythm, the minty paste barely masking the bitterness in my mouth. Pulling on my uniform, I leave my coat behind, unbuttoning my shirt so that I don't suffocate to death. I grab my backpack and phone, the familiar weight of them grounding me, and head down the stairs.

As usual, the house is silent. No housekeepers, no parents—just me and this damn emptiness that fills the space like a thick fog. I snag a granola bar from the shelf, the crinkle of the wrapper punctuating the stillness, and snatch the keys to my sleek black Bugatti Chiron Pur Sport. Unlike some snobby fuckers at school, I actually earned this car, every inch of it a testament to my own grit.

The moment I step into the school, my dickhead of a best friend strides toward me, his ego on full display.

"Wassup, my one and only light!" he beams, his face a mix of mischief and arrogance. "The prince of this sacred kingdom has arrived!"

"Shut the hell up," I retort, delivering a playful slap to the back of his neck.

He winces, feigning injury. "Hey! A little kindness for my lordship wouldn't go amiss, especially after graciously welcoming you into my circle of greatness." With a flourish, he hands me a water bottle, like it's some kind of royal decree.

Ronan Knight—who's somehow my age—grins at me, his smugness radiating like a halo. The fucker has the audacity to speak in the third person, throwing around phrases like "my lordship did this" and "my lordship did that". What a pig.

I study his sorry excuse of a face for a solid two minutes, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're such an idiot," I mutter, shoving past him as I make my way to my locker, the familiar clang of metal echoing my irritation.

As I walk toward class, Ronan throws his goddamn arm around my shoulder. I shove it off, my patience wearing thin. I'm about to punch him in the face when another annoying presence blocks my path.

"Xavier, my boy! Did you miss me?" Cole grins, his tousled hair bouncing as he beams at me. How come these idiots are always so damn cheerful? It lowkey infuriates me.

"You saw me five hours ago, Cole. Shut up," I snap, already done and ready to escape before another idiot approaches.

"XAVIER!"

Great, I must have jinxed it.

Hugh barges into my personal space and hugs me, catching me completely off guard. In a flash of instinct, I kick him in the nuts, then turn toward my locker, desperate to escape this madness.

"Come on, man, show your boy Hugh some love!" he wheezes.

"Shut up," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"I'm starting to think 'shut up' is your favourite word, Xavier," Ronan chuckles, ignoring Hugh's groans. I turn my glare toward Cole.

"Why did we make him our friend again?" I ask, exasperated.

Cole laughs as Ronan pouts. Actually fucking pouts.

"You thought he was a charity case, remember?" Cole says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nodding, I shove past Hugh, who's still trying to recover.

Just my luck: the one day I want to be left alone, these idiots pop up from nowhere, shoving their business into my face and somehow making it mine, too.

THANK YOU FOLKS FOR TAKING TIME TO READ THIS CHAPTER. I INTRODUCED MY BOY XAVIER WHO I ALREADY ADOREEE!!! IF YOU WANNA SEE HOW BOTH MY BABIES MEET, STAY TUNEDDD 

LOVE YOU GUYSS

XOXOXOXO

- STEPH 💕