The Gangster Princess

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Price of Survival

Aisha Fancy Lee

Sunlight sliced through the blinds and hit my face like a damn flashlight. My head throbbed a little, and the chaotic noise coming from the hallway was not helping. It was like waking up in the middle of a concert I didn’t even buy tickets for. I groaned, burying my head under the pillow.

"O my G! Aisha, what the fuck are you doing to your life? Gusto mo yata mapadali ang pag-sundo sayo ni kamatayan!" Alex laughed as she scolded me, but it didn't faze me. She acted like my mom, always worrying. Honestly, I missed my mom. I mean, I've long sold my soul to death, but wait, how did she even know that? I came home with no bruises or anything.

Her eyebrows were furrowed in that weird mix of concern and irritation, and she had her arms crossed, mom-mode activated.

I sat up, my hair a bird’s nest, and squinted at her. “Paano mo nalaman ‘yon?” My voice came out raspy, half-asleep but suspicious.

She just glared. No words. That look alone told me she was pissed—and worried. Mostly worried.

“Aisha, gago ka ba? Buong school na ata alam na sinapak mo ang pinakamagaling sa Anacondas!” Alex hissed, almost hyperventilating. “A-a-anacondas! Aisha! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

I let out a laugh, soft at first, then louder. “Seriously? That’s what they call themselves?” I clutched my stomach. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious."

“Hindi ‘to joke time, gago! They're legit dangerous.” She stomped her foot like a frustrated preschool teacher.

“I want them to know who they’re dealing with,” I said calmly, cracking my neck. “Let them come.”

“What are you talking about, Aisha? Are you out of your mind?" Alex frowned at me, looking all concerned.

“Para malaman nila kung sino yung kalalabanin nila,” I said coolly, trying to make sense of it all.

“I told you she’s a gangster!” I heard Hannah whisper to Alex.

“I know, but you should call it Gangster Princess, just add a word, Princess,” I replied with a mischievous grin.

“Ohhh, like Gangster Prince?” Hannah said, and I raised an eyebrow. Gangster Prince?

“Ha? Gangster Prince?” I scoffed. In the gangster world, nobody’s called a Gangster Prince. What kind of joke was this?

They continued whispering, but I didn’t pay much attention. Curious, huh? Pero sana naman, they learned the meaning of “share your chismis” because sharing is caring, after all.

I just leave them and take a shower. After a quick shower, I dried my hair and changed into my uniform. It was surprisingly elegant for a school that let gangsters roam free. The white blouse was crisp and clean, hugging my frame neatly. Its collar was embroidered with a delicate golden thread that shimmered faintly under the light. The school crest was sewn above my left chest—a golden phoenix rising through flames, its wings fierce and proud.

The skirt, though what the hell, sobrang ikli. It was a pleated navy blue that barely reached mid-thigh. Pa-demure kunwari pero puro pa-attract ng attention. Paired with knee-high white socks and polished black leather shoes, the uniform somehow looked like it belonged in a fashion magazine.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The uniform surprisingly matched my vibe. My long, wavy brown hair framed my face, and my almond-shaped brown eyes stared back at me with a quiet challenge. My skin—smooth and fair—contrasted with the dark uniform. I looked… dangerous and beautiful. Exactly how I liked it.