Chapter One

21 0 0
                                    

There are many days when I lie awake, trying to understand why my mind is filled with these chaotic thoughts. I'll never fully grasp why things unfold the way they do, but I like to think I do everything in my power to navigate this unpredictable world as best I can. I believe I'm capable of making wise and tactical decisions, yet sometimes, I just... I don't know. Things spiral out of control, and before I realize it, I'm knee-deep in the mess I've created for myself. It's not that I want things to go wrong; they just do, and it's only when I'm already in too deep that I realize it.

For instance, I can recall that one morning, it began like any other as I arrived at Ever Richmond High. The halls buzzed with the usual chatter, a mix of laughter and conversations echoing from every direction. Passing by, I caught the familiar mix of envious glances, tentative greetings from strangers, and cheerful waves of "Hi." I walked alongside Priscilla and Lily, enjoying the comforting routine of our mornings. Suddenly, a sharp ding broke through the noise. Priscilla froze, her eyes glued to her phone screen. She let out a gasp and turned to me, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief as she turned to me.

"OMG! Drew is cheating on you!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling.

My stomach dropped as she held out her phone. On the screen was a picture that shattered everything inside me-a blurry but unmistakable image of my boyfriend leaning against his car under the glow of a streetlight, locked in a passionate kiss with a blonde-haired girl.

My eyes burned with a mix of rage and tears. I wanted to scream, to let it all out, but I knew I had to keep my composure. I felt paralyzed, unsure of how to react to this situation. Should I scream and cause a scene, or act unbothered, as if nothing was happening? As I debated with myself, I began to feel the weight of everyone's gaze. It was as though they were all watching, pointing, and laughing. The humiliation was unbearable.

How could this happen to me, Viviane Florence-the perfect Viviane Florence? I had worked so hard to maintain my flawless image: I was filthy rich with impeccable grades, a polished appearance, and the perfect boyfriend. Or at least, I thought he was perfect. Clearly, I was wrong.

Suddenly, the first bell rang, saving me from the momentary whirlwind of emotions. Lily grabbed my arm and hurriedly pulled me into the bathroom, while Priscilla stood guard at the door to keep anyone from coming in. As soon as we were inside, I let out the scream I had been holding back, a sound of pure frustration and anguish.

Lily began rambling, saying anything she could think of to calm me down, but I wasn't really listening. All I could think about was how much I wanted to disappear, to dig a hole and bury myself in it. Even though I knew they were trying to comfort me, all I truly wanted was to be left alone.

Eventually, I decided to shove my feelings deep down and put on an unbothered front. It wasn't that I wasn't hurting-I absolutely was-but I wanted to make it seem like none of this was a big deal. Even if it felt like my world was crumbling, I couldn't let anyone see that.

I sat through first period as if nothing had happened, pretending I was perfectly fine. My initial thought was simple: just text him and end it. Make it clear we were over, no drama, no explanations. I wanted to show everyone I wasn't hurt. So, that's exactly what I did.

Word of my harsh breakup spread quickly. Some people admired my boldness, but most didn't.

At first, I thought this was the safest route-cut ties and move on. But soon, rumors began swirling that I had only dated Andrew for appearances. Sure, that might have been the case in the beginning, but somewhere along the way, I fell for him. Hard. I thought we had a future, maybe even marriage. But now, everyone believed I never cared about him, and that couldn't have been further from the truth.

I just didn't want their pity. I couldn't stand the thought of people looking at me with sympathy or whispering about how I got hurt. But deep down, I had no idea how to turn this situation in my favor. After all, I was the victim here, but how was all the blame suddenly directed at me?

I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that I had everything under control. My mind swirled with a storm of anxiety and uncertainty, but I was determined to stick to my plan, no matter what. If I stayed on this path, I believed I would find the light at the end of the tunnel. All I needed was faith.

I wasn't sure how I was going to face him, especially knowing the false rumors his dumb jock friends had likely spread to boost his reputation around school. Keeping that in mind, I decided to play him at his own game. If he had his crew of jocks, I had my posse of fearless girls ready to back me up.

"So, let the games begin." I whispered underneath my breath.

By the time lunch rolled around, all the favors were in my corner. I had flipped the coin, and it landed on heads. His head was mine. But it wasn't just him-whoever that girl was, I was getting hers, too.

The biggest question mark hung over her identity. Who was this girl trying to wreck my life? It made everything harder to piece together.

Soon, everyone was asking the same thing: Who was she? The odd thing was, not a single jock friend of his seemed to know either to spread that rumor around, which only added to the confusion. Did she even go to our school? I couldn't help but wonder.

"Do you have any idea who this girl might be?" Lily asked, her face twisted in confusion as she scrunched her eyebrows.

I shot her an annoyed look and replied in the most biting tone, "No. All I know is she'd better hope she doesn't go to this school."

Priscilla chimed in, "We have to figure out who this mystery girl is! I'll ask around and see if anyone knows of a blonde-haired girl."

When I got home that evening, I couldn't shake the day's events. Sitting on my windowsill and staring out at the horizon, I tried to piece it all together. Why? Why was this happening to me? I had done everything in my power to make my life run smoothly. None of it made sense.

"Viviane? Your piano teacher is waiting downstairs for your lesson," Charlotte, our headmaster, called out.

"I'll be right down!" I shouted back, though the last thing I wanted was to sit through a lesson.

Gathering what little strength I had left, I peeled myself off the floor and trudged downstairs. The moment Maicy saw me, her eyes narrowed in concern-she knew something was off. I didn't bother masking my emotions; low-key, she was like an undercover therapist. Her insights were surprisingly wise and often gave me the fresh perspective I desperately needed.

As the lesson began, I spilled everything-every thought, every feeling, sparing no details. I wanted her to grasp the full weight of my bottled-up agony. For once, I let the tears fall freely, without shame. It felt oddly liberating.

She looked into my eyes, and as she began to speak, I hung on to every word as if my very life depended on it.

"Well, that sounds like one hell of a day," she said. "But honestly, I think you handled it perfectly. You stood your ground and made the waves bend to your will. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She paused, her gaze steady, before adding, "Sure, maybe you could've shown a little more sympathy. But let's be real-sometimes it's better if they know you're not someone to mess with. Besides, you could have any boy lining up for you if you wanted, so don't be discouraged."

I sighed and nodded, a wave of relief washing over me as I realized I had once again managed to navigate a sticky situation. With that weight off my shoulders, I finally focused on my lesson, determined to do it right.

But as my fingers moved over the keys, my thoughts drifted to the future. What was my next step? Despite my usual tactical approach, the uncertainty of tomorrow loomed over me. I had no answers, only questions swirling in my mind.

By the time the lesson ended, I felt emotionally drained, as though the weight of the day had finally caught up to me.

Only God knew what was prepared for tomorrow.

Vicious HabitsWhere stories live. Discover now