Ruthanne Georgeson High

💎 •Whirl-Wind of Emotions•

 °[unedited]°

°°°

        It was the black girl from the hall. That'd been staring at his painting with a quizzical but quiet admiration. He'd found it curious, how her face twisted in misunderstanding, but still appreciated the art.

Ren took slow steps down the stairs into the aisle as the jewels backed away, except for Renee, in cognizance of him. And his commanding aura, while not conscious of it, seemed to be in blazes.

The girl's chest deflated imperceptibly.

"Leave her be," Renee ordered in a simple tone, keeping her cotton-soft eyes on her brother.

In seconds, the hall had emptied, the fanged sharks dispersed, and the frosty flecks of a chilling stare-down between Morgan and Ren lingered; the long look of Ivie on Ren unnoticed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing you want to know about, brother," Renee said. "Just some ... little introduction and orientation on how things are done here."

"You mean causing trouble?"

She scoffed inaudibly. "Are you going to do something about that?"

"Stop it, Renee. Don't go about harming the little innocent kids."

"Heyy, chilax. I'm not doing nothing to anybody." She flipped her sheeny hair behind, turned with it to face the large windows on the far left.

She turned to face him, gave him a full smile that had all the ice on her features chipping off.

A lucky bitch she was - getting away with so many things, doing bad stuff and not having anyone tell on her, taking advantage of her brother being the Head Student. He could be so oblivious sometimes, she mused, too benign—believing the best of people and in situations.

Ren stared back at her, his face without a crack and eyes darts-thin, not mellowing.

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          Ruthanne was a winding maze of towering pillars and glasses enclosing spaces with more depth than an ocean, and vast clusters of structure, architectural design and greenery beautification, interconnected in a convoluting manner that was nothing less than submerging.

It seemed all the more cascading with Demi's torrential waves of emotion that was clogging her throat, filling up to burst through her head.

Every scene from earlier was a mash up: the words, actions and students—Diadem—or whatever they called themselves, a swirl she couldn't stop.

Confusion, blacking out, irritation, and vexation were everything she was feeling.

The door to the hall opened with a bang.

A golden-haired, faired as snow-white girl in 6-inches cream heels stood at the entrance, her pose ejecting menace.

Renee.

Changed of mind and there in the auditorium to take over their crazy little game. The meeting finished about seconds ago though but a quite scene was on.