Pre-story author's note:
This story is the classic ugly girl gets hurt and then come back a hot girl.
Oh yes, it is.
I just want it written in a very dramatic, gossipgirl-esque. And thus, came this story. I've been writing this on and off for YEARS. There might be cliches, but hell, who the hell am I kidding? These are the epitome of cliches. But I love writing this story, I love the over the top drama and the crazy plot and psychotic rich characters. I love this story to the bits. Sometimes that I become possesive of it and don't want to post it online because I'm afraid someone might steal them.
So yeah, if you steal this, I will kick you in your lady bits. Or nuts, whatever you have.
Now that the threat is out, I can be nice again and let you enjoy the story without anymore interruption.
-
-
-
In Cassandra Bellington'd dictionary, high school was not 'an institution for educating children through grade 9 to 12'. No, high school was 'an area where teenagers flock and let the Jungle Law commence'. The school laws, the one made by the teachers, were merely there as an ornament, serving nothing except for an embellishment.
The real laws, the ones that the kids do obey, are actually the ones They made Themshelves.
Of course, when Cassie meant Them, she meant the Royalties that reigned over the St. Pulkeria High School for the Gifted and Scholars (or in Cassie's own personal term, 'the Prosperous and the Presumptuous.')
....................................
The Royalties (noun): a group of prosperous and presumptuous kids that have too much money and spend too much of them on drugs, parties, drinks, and clothes. They are usually excessively rich and like to belittle other people.
....................................
The Royalties made the rules (which mostly consisted of 'The Strong Stomps at the Weak'), they chased after people who broke the rules ('Everyone should be kept in their rightful place!'), and they broke the rules themshelves, because they could, and because no one can stop them.
Cassie had had a hard time trying to keep in an ambivalent mood about them scumbags.
At the very top of the pyramid, there was Desmond Arrington aka the King. Of course, like any other Royalty-based High school, Desmond was a senior, filthy-rich, and a jock. Not only that; his great grandfather was part of the founder of the school, and to add the cliché, he was inhumanly gorgeous. He didn't smile much, and when he did, it was almost always on the expense on another.
And his friends (friends (noun): people who will smile and suck you up until you open up. Then they'll find way to backstab you so that they can advance further). God, who could forget about Desmond Arrington's friends? They were beautiful (but not as hereditarily beautiful as the Arringtons), they were rich (but some are not as old-money enough as the Arringtons), and they were all mean (but of course, not as mean as the Arringtons. You have to be satanic to beat that). And not to mention, all are eager to please Desmond Arrington, because he was the ticket to practically every good connections all the kids desperately needed to amplify their worldly pleasure. They were his minions, all right.
....................................
Minions (noun): 1. see friends. 2. What the Royalty consists of.
....................................
Before any unfair judgments ensue, Cassie herself is not in that bad condition. Coming from her mother's gen, she had smooth, white skin that was the envy of the girls. Her hair was soft from many treatments that her aunt enforced to her, and she wasn't that fat.
Like every other resident of St Pulkeria, she was rich, relatively so. At least, with her mother's bank account alone, she could get by for three or four years without working. She knew what Valentino, Dior or Prada was, though true to her reserved nature, she could only wear their most conservative products, the ones that usually get overlooked by fashionistas.
Just like her sense of fashion, she was mostly ignored at school. She had already stayed in St Pulkeria since she was in grade school, and thorough all the twelve years, her social status had never degraded or improved. A wallflower, she was one of the 'Unseen, Unheard of'. A little better than the 'Scraping Pariahs' or 'Okay to Bully', but much, much worse than 'Commoners'. Nobody would try to bully her or make her time at school like hell. They'd be relatively nice to her, because she was one of the good students with good relationship with teachers. But there was no way she would be invited to the exclusive parties, no 'meet up for drinks' after school hour, no secret gossiping and private places to meet.
She was, for lack of better word, 'Unseen, Unheard of'.
At least, Cassie often thought, she was content with that. She had a peaceful time in high school something that most people couldn't achieve even if they tried. She could concentrate on her studies and get into Harvard, and best of all, she would leave St. Pulkeria unscathed. That's quite a feat, considering how dangerous the 'Jungle' was.
Now, at her Senior year, it was all just one step away. She planned continuing her unknown persona and got as good grades as she could manage. She was determined to leave the school unscarred, because she hated pain and most of all, she hated dramas over trivial matters.
And her plan was going on so well, until it happened, and it happened strategically at the end of the first semester.
Like all juicy stories, it all started in a party. And as usual, it involved a few drinks. Alcoholic ones.
She forgot how it happened, but she remembered the little details pretty clearly. She was there, panting, clothes almost all off, and hair tangled in a way it has never tangled before, even in her bad days. Behind her was a squeaking mattress that was unfamiliar, surrounding her was a room she had never seen before, and on top of her, on top of her was the sweating, panting, alcohol-laden King of St. Pulkeria.
Yes, the Desmond Arrington his highness himself.
How the hell she managed to get into this hellhound situation, she didn't know, but at that time, getting him off her was the last thing she had in mind.
....................................
Desmond Arrington
(Adjective)
1.Being unnecessarily mean just to prove that YES! You can, and you will.
(noun)
1. The King of Social Scene in St. Pulkeria High School for the Prosperous and Presumptuous. Very dangerous. Proceed to him with extra caution.
2. The embodiment of Satan who took place in a good-looking human who had a lot of privileges. Destroyers of many hopes and hearts.
3. A really, really good kisser.
....................................
-
-
-
It's just the prologue. More will come soon. :) I have about 6 chapters prewritten so it won't really interfere with The Quirky Tale of April Hale updating schedule. I plan to publish a chapter a week, with recaps. Everything will be written in third person POV, btw, and I hope that you give it a chance, because third person POV works, too. In fact, most books are better written in third person POV, I just dont know what kind of hurricane that brings wattpad to the obligatory first person POV. Okay, so now I'm rambling. Comment, vote, love, bye!
YOU ARE READING
Frankly My Dear, All's Fair in Love and War
Teen FictionCassie, 18, never kissed, never drank, never smoked, practically never did anything remotely adventurous, was planning to leave high school unscathed. But when her heart got broken by the school's King, Desmond, she was determined to have a change o...